{"collection":"philosophy-ethics","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_40868/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_40868","id":"gutenberg_40868","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/40868","summary":null,"tags":["Category: Philosophy & Ethics","Idea (Philosophy)","Knowledge, Theory of","Philosophy","Will"],"text":"The World As Will And Idea\n\n                                    By\n\n                           Arthur Schopenhauer\n\n                      Translated From The German By\n\n                           R. B. Haldane, M.A.\n\n                                   And\n\n                              J. Kemp, M.A.\n\n                                Vol. III.\n\n  Containing Supplements to Part of the Second Book and to the Third and\n                               Fourth Books\n\n                              Sixth Edition\n\n                                  London\n\n                    Kegan Paul, Trench, Tr\u00fcbner & Co.\n\n                                   1909\n\n\n\n\n\nCONTENTS\n\n\nSupplements To The Second Book.\n   Chapter XXI. Retrospect and More General View.\n   Chapter XXII. Objective View of the Intellect.\n   Chapter XXIII.On The Objectification Of The Will In Unconscious Nature.\n   Chapter XXIV. On Matter.\n   Chapter XXV. Transcendent Considerations Concerning The Will As Thing\n   In Itself.\n   Chapter XXVI. On Teleology.\n   Chapter XXVII. On Instinct And Mechanical Tendency.\n   Chapter XXVIII. Characterisation Of The Will To Live.\nSupplements to the Third Book.\n   Chapter XXIX. On The Knowledge Of The Ideas.\n   Chapter XXX. On The Pure Subject Of Knowledge.\n   Chapter XXXI. On Genius.\n   Chapter XXXII. On Madness.\n   Chapter XXXIII. Isolated Remarks On Natural Beauty.\n   Chapter XXXIV. On The Inner Nature Of Art.\n   Chapter XXXV. On The \u00c6sthetics Of Architecture.\n   Chapter XXXVI. Isolated Remarks On The \u00c6sthetics Of The Plastic And\n   Pictorial Arts.\n   Chapter XXXVII. On The \u00c6sthetics Of Poetry.\n   Chapter XXXVIII. On History.\n   Chapter XXXIX. On The Metaphysics Of Music.\nSupplements to the Fourth Book.\n   Chapter XL. Preface.\n   Chapter XLI. On Death And Its Relation To The Indestructibility Of Our\n   True Nature.\n   Chapter XLII. The Life Of The Species.\n   Chapter XLIII. On Heredity.\n   Chapter XLIV. The Metaphysics Of The Love Of The Sexes.\n   Chapter XLV. On The Assertion Of The Will To Live.\n   Chapter XLVI. On The Vanity And Suffering Of Life.\n   Chapter XLVII. On Ethics.\n   Chapter XLVIII. On The Doctrine Of The Denial Of The Will To Live.\n   Chapter XLIX. The Way Of Salvation.\n   Chapter L. Epiphilosophy.\nAppendix.\n   Abstract.\n   Chapter I.\n   Chapter II.\n   Chapter III.\n   Chapter IV.\n   Chapter V.\n   Chapter VI.\n   Chapter VII.\n   Chapter VIII.\nIndex.\nCorrigenda And Addenda In Vol. I.\nFootnotes\n\n\n\n\n\n\n                               [Cover Art]\n\n[Transcriber\u2019s Note: The above cover image was produced by the submitter\nat Distributed Proofreaders, and is being placed into the public domain.]\n\n\n\n\n\nSUPPLEMENTS TO THE SECOND BOOK.\n\n\n\n\nChapter XXI. Retrospect and More General View.\n\n\nIf the _intellect_ were not of a subordinate nature, as the two preceding\nchapters show, then everything which takes place without it, _i.e._,\nwithout intervention of the idea, such as reproduction, the development\nand maintenance of the organism, the healing of wounds, the restoration or\nvicarious supplementing of mutilated parts, the salutary crisis in\ndiseases, the works of the mechanical skill of animals, and the\nperformances of instinct would not be done so infinitely better and more\nperfectly than what takes place with the assistance of intellect, all\nconscious and intentional achievements of men, which compared with the\nformer are mere bungling. In general _nature_ signifies that which\noperates, acts, performs without the assistance of the intellect. Now,\nthat this is really identical with what we find in ourselves as _will_ is\nthe general theme of this second book, and also of the essay, \u201c_Ueber den\nWillen in der Natur_.\u201d The possibility of this fundamental knowledge\ndepends upon the fact that _in us_ the will is directly lighted by the\nintellect, which here appears as self\u2010consciousness; otherwise we could\njust as little arrive at a fuller knowledge of it _within us_ as without\nus, and must for ever stop at inscrutable forces of nature. We have to\nabstract from the assistance of the _intellect_ if we wish to comprehend\nthe nature of the will in itself, and thereby, as far as is possible,\npenetrate to the inner being of nature.\n\nOn this account, it may be remarked in passing, my direct antipode among\nphilosophers is Anaxagoras; for he assumed arbitrarily as that which is\nfirst and original, from which everything proceeds, a \u03bd\u03bf\u03c5\u03c2, an\nintelligence, a subject of ideas, and he is regarded as the first who\npromulgated such a view. According to him the world existed earlier in the\nmere idea than in itself; while according to me it is the unconscious\n_will_ which constitutes the reality of things, and its development must\nhave advanced very far before it finally attains, in the animal\nconsciousness, to the idea and intelligence; so that, according to me,\nthought appears as the very last. However, according to the testimony of\nAristotle (_Metaph._, i. 4), Anaxagoras himself did not know how to begin\nmuch with his \u03bd\u03bf\u03c5\u03c2, but merely set it up, and then left it standing like a\npainted saint at the entrance, without making use of it in his development\nof nature, except in cases of need, when he did not know how else to help\nhimself. All physico\u2010theology is a carrying out of the error opposed to\nthe truth expressed at the beginning of this chapter\u2014the error that the\nmost perfect form of the origin of things is that which is brought about\nby means of an _intellect_. Therefore it draws a bolt against all deep\nexploration of nature.\n\nFrom the time of Socrates down to our own time, we find that the chief\nsubject of the ceaseless disputations of the philosophers has been that\n_ens rationis_, called _soul_. We see the most of them assert its\nimmortality, that is to say, its metaphysical nature; yet others,\nsupported by facts which incontrovertibly prove the entire dependence of\nthe intellect upon the bodily organism, unweariedly maintain the contrary.\nThat soul is by all and before everything taken as _absolutely simple_;\nfor precisely from this its metaphysical nature, its immateriality and\nimmortality were proved, although these by no means necessarily follow\nfrom it. For although we can only conceive the destruction of a formed\nbody through breaking up of it into its parts, it does not follow from\nthis that the destruction of a simple existence, of which besides we have\nno conception, may not be possible in some other way, perhaps by gradually\nvanishing. I, on the contrary, start by doing away with the presupposed\nsimplicity of our subjectively conscious nature, or the _ego_, inasmuch as\nI show that the manifestations from which it was deduced have two very\ndifferent sources, and that in any case the intellect is physically\nconditioned, the function of a material organ, therefore dependent upon\nit, and without it is just as impossible as the grasp without the hand;\nthat accordingly it belongs to the mere phenomenon, and thus shares the\nfate of this,\u2014that the _will_, on the contrary, is bound to no special\norgan, but is everywhere present, is everywhere that which moves and\nforms, and therefore is that which conditions the whole organism; that, in\nfact, it constitutes the metaphysical substratum of the whole phenomenon,\nconsequently is not, like the intellect, a _Posterius_ of it, but its\n_Prius_; and the phenomenon depends upon it, not it upon the phenomenon.\nBut the body is reduced indeed to a mere idea, for it is only the manner\nin which the _will_ exhibits itself in the perception of the intellect or\nbrain. The _will_, again, which in all other systems, different as they\nare in other respects, appears as one of the last results, is with me the\nvery first. The _intellect_, as mere function of the brain, is involved in\nthe destruction of the body, but the _will_ is by no means so. From this\nheterogeneity of the two, together with the subordinate nature of the\nintellect, it becomes conceivable that man, in the depths of his self\u2010\nconsciousness, feels himself to be eternal and indestructible, but yet can\nhave no memory, either _a parte ante_ or _a parte post_, beyond the\nduration of his life. I do not wish to anticipate here the exposition of\nthe true indestructibility of our nature, which has its place in the\nfourth book, but have only sought to indicate the place where it links\nitself on.\n\nBut now that, in an expression which is certainly one\u2010sided, yet from our\nstandpoint true, the body is called a mere idea depends upon the fact than\nan existence in space, as something extended, and in time, as something\nthat changes, and more closely determined in both through the causal\u2010\nnexus, is only possible in the _idea_, for all those determinations rest\nupon its forms, thus in a brain, in which accordingly such an existence\nappears as something objective, _i.e._, foreign; therefore even our own\nbody can have this kind of existence only in a brain. For the knowledge\nwhich I have of my body as extended, space\u2010occupying, and movable, is only\n_indirect_: it is a picture in my brain which is brought about by means of\nthe senses and understanding. The body is given to me _directly_ only in\nmuscular action and in pain and pleasure, both of which primarily and\ndirectly belong to the _will_. But the combination of these two different\nkinds of knowledge of my own body afterwards affords the further insight\nthat all other things which also have the objective existence described,\nwhich is primarily only in my brain, are not therefore entirely non\u2010\nexistent apart from it, but must also ultimately _in themselves_ be that\nwhich makes itself known in self\u2010consciousness as _will_.\n\n\n\n\nChapter XXII.(1) Objective View of the Intellect.\n\n\nThere are two fundamentally different ways of regarding the intellect,\nwhich depend upon the difference of the point of view, and, much as they\nare opposed to each other in consequence of this, must yet be brought into\nagreement. One is the _subjective_, which, starting from _within_ and\ntaking the _consciousness_ as the given, shows us by what mechanism the\nworld exhibits itself in it, and how, out of the materials which the\nsenses and the understanding provide, it constructs itself in it. We must\nlook upon Locke as the originator of this method of consideration; Kant\nbrought it to incomparably higher perfection; and our first book also,\ntogether with its supplements, are devoted to it.\n\nThe method of considering the intellect which is opposed to this is the\n_objective_, which starts from _without_, takes as its object not our own\nconsciousness, but the beings given in outward experience, conscious of\nthemselves and of the world, and now investigates the relation of their\nintellect to their other qualities, how it has become possible, how it has\nbecome necessary, and what it accomplishes for them. The standpoint of\nthis method of consideration is the empirical. It takes the world and the\nanimal existences present in it as absolutely given, in that it starts\nfrom them. It is accordingly primarily zoological, anatomical,\nphysiological, and only becomes philosophical by connection with that\nfirst method of consideration, and from the higher point of view thereby\nattained. The only foundations of this which as yet have been given we owe\nto zootomists and physiologists, for the most part French. Here Cabanis is\nspecially to be named, whose excellent work, \u201c_Des rapports du physique au\nmoral_,\u201d is initiatory of this method of consideration on the path of\nphysiology. The famous Bichat was his contemporary, but his theme was a\nmuch more comprehensive one. Even Gall may be named here, although his\nchief aim was missed. Ignorance and prejudice have raised against this\nmethod of consideration the accusation of materialism, because, adhering\nsimply to experience, it does not know the immaterial substance, soul. The\nmost recent advances in the physiology of the nervous system, through Sir\nCharles Bell, Magendie, Marshall Hall, and others, have also enriched and\ncorrected the material of this method of consideration. A philosophy\nwhich, like the Kantian, entirely ignores this point of view for the\nintellect is one\u2010sided, and consequently inadequate. It leaves an\nimpassable gulf between our philosophical and our physiological knowledge,\nwith which we can never find satisfaction.\n\nAlthough what I have said in the two preceding chapters concerning the\nlife and the activity of the brain belongs to this method of\nconsideration, and in the same way all the discussions to be found under\nthe heading, \u201c_Pflanzenphysiologie_,\u201d in the essay, \u201c_Ueber den Willen in\nder Natur_,\u201d and also a portion of those under the heading \u201c_Vergleichende\nAnatomie_,\u201d are devoted to it, the following exposition of its results in\ngeneral will be by no means superfluous.\n\nWe become most vividly conscious of the glaring contrast between the two\nmethods of considering the intellect opposed to each other above if we\ncarry the matter to the extreme and realise that what the one, as\nreflective thought and vivid perception, directly assumes and makes its\nmaterial is for the other nothing more than the physiological function of\nan internal organ, the brain; nay, that we are justified in asserting that\nthe whole objective world, so boundless in space, so infinite in time, so\nunsearchable in its perfection, is really only a certain movement or\naffection of the pulpy matter in the skull. We then ask in astonishment:\nwhat is this brain whose function produces such a phenomenon of all\nphenomena? What is the matter which can be refined and potentiated to such\na pulp that the stimulation of a few of its particles becomes the\nconditional supporter of the existence of an objective world? The fear of\nsuch questions led to the hypothesis of the simple substance of an\nimmaterial soul, which merely dwelt in the brain. We say boldly: this pulp\nalso, like every vegetable or animal part, is an organic structure, like\nall its poorer relations in the inferior accommodation of the heads of our\nirrational brethren, down to the lowest, which scarcely apprehends at all;\nyet that organic pulp is the last product of nature, which presupposes all\nthe rest. But in itself, and outside the idea, the brain also, like\neverything else, is _will_. _For existing for another is being perceived;\nbeing in itself is willing_: upon this it depends that on the purely\nobjective path we never attain to the inner nature of things; but if we\nattempt to find their inner nature from without and empirically, this\ninner always becomes an outer again in our hands,\u2014the pith of the tree, as\nwell as its bark; the heart of the animal, as well as its hide; the white\nand the yolk of an egg, as well as its shell. On the other hand, upon the\nsubjective path the inner is accessible to us at every moment; for we find\nit as the _will_ primarily in ourselves, and must, by the clue of the\nanalogy with our own nature, be able to solve that of others, in that we\nattain to the insight that a being in itself independent of being known,\n_i.e._, of exhibiting itself in an intellect, is only conceivable as\nwilling.\n\nIf now, in the _objective_ comprehension of the intellect, we go back as\nfar as we possibly can, we shall find that the necessity or the need of\n_knowledge in general_ arises from the multiplicity and the _separate_\nexistence of beings, thus from individuation. For suppose there only\nexisted _a single_ being, such a being would have no need of knowledge:\nbecause nothing would exist which was different from it, and whose\nexistence it would therefore have to take up into itself indirectly\nthrough knowledge, _i.e._, image and concept. It would _itself_ already be\nall in all, and therefore there would remain nothing for it to know,\n_i.e._, nothing foreign that could be apprehended as object. In the case\nof a multiplicity of beings, on the other hand, every individual finds\nitself in a condition of isolation from all the rest, and hence arises the\nnecessity of knowledge. The nervous system, by means of which the animal\nindividual primarily becomes conscious of itself, is bounded by a skin;\nyet in the brain that has attained to intellect it passes beyond this\nlimit by means of its form of knowledge, causality, and thus there arises\nfor it perception as a consciousness of _other_ things, as an image of\nbeings in space and time, which change in accordance with causality. In\nthis sense it would be more correct to say, \u201cOnly the different is known\nby the different,\u201d than as Empedocles said, \u201cOnly the like is known by the\nlike,\u201d which was a very indefinite and ambiguous proposition; although\npoints of view may certainly also be conceived from which it is true; as,\nfor instance, we may observe in passing that of Helvetius when he says so\nbeautifully and happily: \u201c_Il n\u2019y a que l\u2019esprit qui sente l\u2019esprit: c\u2019est\nune corde qui ne fr\u00e9mit qu\u2019\u00e0 l\u2019unison_,\u201d which corresponds with Xenophon\u2019s\n\u201c\u03c3\u03bf\u03c6\u03bf\u03bd \u03b5\u03b9\u03bd\u03b1\u03b9 \u03b4\u03b5\u03b9 \u03c4\u03bf\u03bd \u03b5\u03c0\u03b9\u03b3\u03bd\u03c9\u03c3\u03bf\u03bc\u03b5\u03bd\u03bf\u03bd \u03c4\u03bf\u03bd \u03c3\u03bf\u03c6\u03bf\u03bd\u201d (_sapientem esse opportet\neum, qui sapientem agniturus sit_), and is a great sorrow. But now, again,\nfrom the other side we know that multiplicity of similars only becomes\npossible through time and space; thus through the forms of our knowledge.\nSpace first arises in that the knowing subject sees externally; it is the\nmanner in which the subject comprehends something as different from\nitself. But we also saw knowledge in general conditioned by multiplicity\nand difference. Thus knowledge and multiplicity, or individuation, stand\nand fall together, for they reciprocally condition each other. Hence it\nmust be inferred that, beyond the phenomenon in the true being of all\nthings, to which time and space, and consequently also multiplicity, must\nbe foreign, there can also be no knowledge. Buddhism defines this as\n_Pratschna Paramita_, _i.e._, that which is beyond all knowledge (J. J.\nSchmidt, \u201cOn the Maha\u2010Jana and Pratschna Paramita\u201d). A \u201cknowledge of\nthings in themselves,\u201d in the strictest sense of the word, would\naccordingly be already impossible from the fact that where the thing in\nitself begins knowledge ceases, and all knowledge is essentially concerned\nonly with phenomena. For it springs from a limitation, by which it is made\nnecessary, in order to extend the limits.\n\nFor the objective consideration the brain is the efflorescence of the\norganism; therefore only where the latter has attained its highest\nperfection and complexity does the brain appear in its greatest\ndevelopment. But in the preceding chapter we have recognised the organism\nas the objectification of the will; therefore the brain also, as a part of\nit, must belong to this objectification. Further, from the fact that the\norganism is only the visibility of the will, thus in itself is the will, I\nhave deduced that every affection of the organism at once and directly\naffects the will, _i.e._, is felt as agreeable or painful. Yet, with the\nheightening of sensibility, in the higher development of the nervous\nsystem, the possibility arises that in the nobler, _i.e._, the\n_objective_, organs of sense (sight and hearing) the exquisitely delicate\naffections proper to them are perceived without in themselves and directly\naffecting the will, that is, without being either painful or agreeable,\nand that therefore they appear in consciousness as indifferent, merely\nperceived, sensations. But in the brain this heightening of sensibility\nreaches such a high degree that upon received impressions of sense a\nreaction even takes place, which does not proceed directly from the will,\nbut is primarily a spontaneity of the function of understanding, which\nmakes the transition from the directly perceived sensation of the senses\nto its _cause_; and since the brain then at once produces the form of\nspace, there thus arises the perception of an _external object_. We may\ntherefore regard the point at which the understanding makes the transition\nfrom the mere sensation upon the retina, which is still a mere affection\nof the body and therefore of the will, to the _cause_ of that sensation,\nwhich it projects by means of its form of space, as something external and\ndifferent from its own body, as the boundary between the world as will and\nthe world as idea, or as the birthplace of the latter. In man, however,\nthe spontaneity of the activity of the brain, which in the last instance\nis certainly conferred by the will, goes further than mere _perception_\nand immediate comprehension of causal relations. It extends to the\nconstruction of abstract conceptions out of these perceptions, and to\noperating with these conceptions, _i.e._, to _thinking_, as that in which\nhis _reason_ consists. _Thoughts_ are therefore furthest removed from the\naffections of the body, which, since the body is the objectification of\nthe will, may, through increased intensity, pass at once into pain, even\nin the organs of sense. Accordingly idea and thought may also be regarded\nas the efflorescence of the will, because they spring from the highest\nperfection and development of the organism; but the organism, in itself\nand apart from the idea, is the _will_. Of course, in my explanation, the\nexistence of the body presupposes the world of idea; inasmuch as it also,\nas body or real object, is only in this world; and, on the other hand, the\nidea itself just as much presupposes the body, for it arises only through\nthe function of an organ of the body. That which lies at the foundation of\nthe whole phenomenon, that in it which alone has being in itself and is\noriginal, is exclusively the _will_; for it is the will which through this\nvery process assumes the form of the _idea_, _i.e._, enters the secondary\nexistence of an objective world, or the sphere of the knowable.\nPhilosophers before Kant, with few exceptions, approached the explanation\nof the origin of our knowledge from the wrong side. They set out from a\nso\u2010called soul, an existence whose inner nature and peculiar function\nconsisted in thinking, and indeed quite specially in abstract thinking,\nwith mere conceptions, which belonged to it the more completely the\nfurther they lay from all perception. (I beg to refer here to the note at\nthe end of \u00a7 6 of my prize essay on the foundation of morals.) This soul\nhas in some inconceivable manner entered the body, and there it is only\ndisturbed in its pure thinking, first by impressions of the senses and\nperceptions, still more by the desires which these excite, and finally by\nthe emotions, nay, passions, to which these desires develop; while the\ncharacteristic and original element of this soul is mere abstract\nthinking, and given up to this it has only universals, inborn conceptions,\nand _\u00e6tern\u00e6 veritates_ for its objects, and leaves everything perceptible\nlying far below it. Hence, also, arises the contempt with which even now\n\u201csensibility\u201d and the \"sensuous\" are referred to by professors of\nphilosophy, nay, are even made the chief source of immorality, while it is\njust the senses which are the genuine and innocent source of all our\nknowledge, from which all thinking must first borrow its material, for in\ncombination with the _a priori_ functions of the intellect they produce\nthe _perception_. One might really suppose that in speaking of sensibility\nthese gentlemen always think only of the pretended sixth sense of the\nFrench. Thus, as we have said, in the process of knowledge, its ultimate\nproduct was made that which is first and original in it, and accordingly\nthe matter was taken hold of by the wrong end. According to my exposition,\nthe intellect springs from the organism, and thereby from the will, and\nhence could not be without the latter. Thus, without the will it would\nalso find no material to occupy it; for everything that is knowable is\njust the objectification of the will.\n\nBut not only the perception of the external world, or the consciousness of\nother things, is conditioned by the brain and its functions, but also\nself\u2010consciousness. The will in itself is without consciousness, and\nremains so in the greater part of its phenomena. The secondary world of\nidea must be added, in order that it may become conscious of itself, just\nas light only becomes visible through the bodies which reflect it, and\nwithout them loses itself in darkness without producing any effect.\nBecause the will, with the aim of comprehending its relations to the\nexternal world, produces a brain in the animal individual, the\nconsciousness of its own self arises in it, by means of the subject of\nknowledge, which comprehends things as existing and the _ego_ as willing.\nThe sensibility, which reaches its highest degree in the brain, but is yet\ndispersed through its different parts, must first of all collect all the\nrays of its activity, concentrate them, as it were, in a focus, which,\nhowever, does not lie without, as in the case of the concave mirror, but\nwithin, as in the convex mirror. With this point now it first describes\nthe line of time, upon which, therefore, all that it presents to itself as\nidea must exhibit itself, and which is the first and most essential form\nof all knowledge, or the form of inner sense. This focus of the whole\nactivity of the brain is what Kant called the synthetic unity of\napperception (_cf._ vol. ii. p. 475). Only by means of this does the will\nbecome conscious of itself, because this focus of the activity of the\nbrain, or that which knows, apprehends itself as identical with its own\nbasis, from which it springs, that which wills; and thus the _ego_ arises.\nYet this focus of the brain activity remains primarily a mere subject of\nknowledge, and as such capable of being the cold and impartial spectator,\nthe mere guide and counsellor of the will, and also of comprehending the\nexternal world in a purely objective manner, without reference to the will\nand its weal or woe. But whenever it turns within, it recognises the will\nas the basis of its own phenomenon, and therefore combines with it in the\nconsciousness of an _ego_. That focus of the activity of the brain (or the\nsubject of knowledge) is indeed, as an indivisible point, simple, but yet\nis not on this account a substance (soul), but a mere condition or state.\nThat of which it is itself a condition or state can only be known by it\nindirectly, as it were through reflection. But the ceasing of this state\nmust not be regarded as the annihilation of that of which it is a state.\nThis _knowing_ and conscious _ego_ is related to the will, which is the\nbasis of its phenomenal appearance, as the picture in the focus of a\nconcave mirror is related to the mirror itself, and has, like that\npicture, only a conditioned, nay, really a merely apparent, reality. Far\nfrom being the absolutely first (as, for example, Fichte teaches), it is\nat bottom tertiary, for it presupposes the organism, and the organism\npresupposes the will. I admit that all that is said here is really only an\nimage and a figure, and in part also hypothetical; but we stand at a point\nto which thought can scarcely reach, not to speak of proof. I therefore\nrequest the reader to compare with this what I have adduced at length on\nthis subject in chapter 20.\n\nNow, although the true being of everything that exists consists in its\nwill, and knowledge together with consciousness are only added at the\nhigher grades of the phenomenon as something secondary, yet we find that\nthe difference which the presence and the different degree of\nconsciousness places between one being and another is exceedingly great\nand of important results. The subjective existence of the plant we must\nthink of as a weak analogue, a mere shadow of comfort and discomfort; and\neven in this exceedingly weak degree the plant knows only of itself, not\nof anything outside of it. On the other hand, even the lowest animal\nstanding next to it is forced by increased and more definitely specified\nwants to extend the sphere of its existence beyond the limits of its own\nbody. This takes place through knowledge. It has a dim apprehension of its\nimmediate surroundings, out of which the motives for its action with a\nview to its own maintenance arise. Thus accordingly the _medium of\nmotives_ appears, and this is\u2014the world existing objectively in time and\nspace, _the world as idea_, however weak, obscure, and dimly dawning this\nfirst and lowest example of it may be. But it imprints itself ever more\nand more distinctly, ever wider and deeper, in proportion as in the\nascending scale of animal organisations the brain is ever more perfectly\nproduced. This progress in the development of the brain, thus of the\nintellect, and of the clearness of the idea, at each of these ever higher\ngrades is, however, brought about by the constantly increasing and more\ncomplicated _wants_ of this phenomenon of the will. This must always first\nafford the occasion for it, for without necessity nature (_i.e._, the will\nwhich objectifies itself in it) produces nothing, least of all the hardest\nof its productions\u2014a more perfect brain: in consequence of its _lex\nparsimoni\u00e6_: _natura nihil agit frustra et nihil facit supervacaneum_. It\nhas provided every animal with the organs which are necessary for its\nsustenance and the weapons necessary for its conflict, as I have shown at\nlength in my work, \u201c_Ueber den Willen in der Natur_,\u201d under the heading,\n\u201c_Vergleichende Anatomie_.\u201d According to this measure, therefore, it\nimparts to each the most important of those organs concerned with what is\nwithout, the brain, with its function the intellect. The more complicated,\nthrough higher development, its organisation became, the more multifarious\nand specially determined did its wants also become, and consequently the\nmore difficult and the more dependent upon opportunity was the provision\nof what would satisfy them. Thus there was needed here a wider range of\nsight, a more accurate comprehension, a more correct distinction of things\nin the external world, in all their circumstances and relations.\nAccordingly we see the faculty of forming ideas, and its organs, brain,\nnerves, and special senses, appear ever more perfect the higher we advance\nin the scale of animals; and in proportion as the cerebral system\ndevelops, the external world appears ever more distinct, many\u2010sided, and\ncomplete in consciousness. The comprehension of it now demands ever more\nattention, and ultimately in such a degree that sometimes its relation to\nthe will must momentarily be lost sight of in order that it may take place\nmore purely and correctly. Quite definitely this first appears in the case\nof man. With him alone does a _pure separation of knowing and willing_\ntake place. This is an important point, which I merely touch on here in\norder to indicate its position, and be able to take it up again later.\nBut, like all the rest, nature takes this last step also in extending and\nperfecting the brain, and thereby in increasing the powers of knowledge,\nonly in consequence of the increased needs, thus in the service of the\n_will_. What this aims at and attains in man is indeed essentially the\nsame, and not more than what is also its goal in the brutes\u2014nourishment\nand propagation. But the requisites for the attainment of this goal became\nso much increased in number, and of so much higher quality and greater\ndefiniteness through the organisation of man, that a very much more\nconsiderable heightening of the intellect than the previous steps demanded\nwas necessary, or at least was the easiest means of reaching the end. But\nsince now the intellect, in accordance with its nature, is a tool of the\nmost various utility, and is equally applicable to the most different\nkinds of ends, nature, true to her spirit of parsimony, could now meet\nthrough it alone all the demands of the wants which had now become so\nmanifold. Therefore she sent forth man without clothing, without natural\nmeans of protection or weapons of attack, nay, with relatively little\nmuscular power, combined with great frailty and little endurance of\nadverse influences and wants, in reliance upon that one great tool, in\naddition to which she had only to retain the hands from the next grade\nbelow him, the ape. But through the predominating intellect which here\nappears not only is the comprehension of motives, their multiplicity, and\nin general the horizon of the aims infinitely increased, but also the\ndistinctness with which the will is conscious _of itself_ is enhanced in\nthe highest degree in consequence of the clearness of the whole\nconsciousness which has been brought about, which is supported by the\ncapacity for abstract knowledge, and now attains to complete\nreflectiveness. But thereby, and also through the vehemence of the will,\nwhich is necessarily presupposed as the supporter of such a heightened\nintellect, an intensifying of all the _emotions_ appears, and indeed the\npossibility of the _passions_, which, properly speaking, are unknown to\nthe brute. For the vehemence of the will keeps pace with the advance of\nintelligence, because this advance really always springs from the\nincreased needs and pressing demands of the will: besides this, however,\nthe two reciprocally support each other. Thus the vehemence of the\ncharacter corresponds to the greater energy of the beating of the heart\nand the circulation of the blood, which physically heighten the activity\nof the brain. On the other hand, the clearness of the intelligence\nintensifies the emotions, which are called forth by the outward\ncircumstances, by means of the more vivid apprehension of the latter.\nHence, for example, young calves quietly allow themselves to be packed in\na cart and carried off; but young lions, if they are only separated from\ntheir mother, remain permanently restless, and roar unceasingly from\nmorning to night; children in such a position would cry and vex themselves\nalmost to death. The vivaciousness and impetuosity of the ape is in exact\nproportion to its greatly developed intellect. It depends just on this\nreciprocal relationship that man is, in general, capable of far greater\nsorrows than the brute, but also of greater joy in satisfied and pleasing\nemotions. In the same way his higher intelligence makes him more sensible\nto _ennui_ than the brute; but it also becomes, if he is individually very\ncomplete, an inexhaustible source of entertainment. Thus, as a whole, the\nmanifestation of the will in man is related to that in the brute of the\nhigher species, as a note that has been struck to its fifth pitched two or\nthree octaves lower. But between the different kinds of brutes also the\ndifferences of intellect, and thereby of consciousness, are great and\nendlessly graduated. The mere analogy of consciousness which we must yet\nattribute to plants will be related to the still far deader subjective\nnature of an unorganised body, very much as the consciousness of the\nlowest species of animals is related to the _quasi_ consciousness of\nplants. We may present to our imagination the innumerable gradations in\nthe degree of consciousness under the figure of the different velocity of\npoints which are unequally distant from the centre of a revolving sphere.\nBut the most correct, and indeed, as our third book teaches, the natural\nfigure of that gradation is afforded us by the scale in its whole compass\nfrom the lowest audible note to the highest. It is, however, the grade of\nconsciousness which determines the grade of existence of a being. For\nevery immediate existence is subjective: the objective existence is in the\nconsciousness of another, thus only for this other, consequently quite\nindirect. Through the grade of consciousness beings are as different as\nthrough the will they are alike, for the will is what is common to them\nall.\n\nBut what we have now considered between the plant and the animal, and then\nbetween the different species of animals, occurs also between man and man.\nHere also that which is secondary, the intellect, by means of the\nclearness of consciousness and distinctness of knowledge which depends\nupon it, constitutes a fundamental and immeasurably great difference in\nthe whole manner of the existence, and thereby in the grade of it. The\nhigher the consciousness has risen, the more distinct and connected are\nthe thoughts, the clearer the perceptions the more intense the sensations.\nThrough it everything gains more depth: emotion, sadness, joy, and sorrow.\nCommonplace blockheads are not even capable of real joy: they live on in\ndull insensibility. While to one man his consciousness only presents his\nown existence, together with the motives which must be apprehended for the\npurpose of sustaining and enlivening it, in a bare comprehension of the\nexternal world, it is to another a _camera obscura_ in which the macrocosm\nexhibits itself:\n\n\n    \u201cHe feels that he holds a little world\n    Brooding in his brain,\n    That it begins to work and to live,\n    That he fain would give it forth.\u201d\n\n\nThe difference of the whole manner of existence which the extremes of the\ngradation of intellectual capacity establish between man and man is so\ngreat that that between a king and a day labourer seems small in\ncomparison. And here also, as in the case of the species of animals, a\nconnection between the vehemence of the will and the height of the\nintellect can be shown. Genius is conditioned by a passionate temperament,\nand a phlegmatic genius is inconceivable: it seems as if an exceptionally\nvehement, thus a violently longing, will must be present if nature is to\ngive an abnormally heightened intellect, as corresponding to it; while the\nmerely physical account of this points to the greater energy with which\nthe arteries of the head move the brain and increase its turgescence.\nCertainly, however, the quantity, quality, and form of the brain itself is\nthe other and incomparably more rare condition of genius. On the other\nhand, phlegmatic persons are as a rule of very moderate mental power; and\nthus the northern, cold\u2010blooded, and phlegmatic nations are in general\nnoticeably inferior in mind to the southern vivacious and passionate\npeoples; although, as Bacon(2) has most pertinently remarked, if once a\nman of a northern nation is highly gifted by nature, he can then reach a\ngrade which no southern ever attains to. It is accordingly as perverse as\nit is common to take the great minds of different nations as the standard\nfor comparing their mental powers: for that is just attempting to prove\nthe rule by the exceptions. It is rather the great majority of each nation\nthat one has to consider: for one swallow does not make a summer. We have\nfurther to remark here that that very passionateness which is a condition\nof genius, bound up with its vivid apprehension of things, produces in\npractical life, where the will comes into play, and especially in the case\nof sudden occurrences, so great an excitement of the emotions that it\ndisturbs and confuses the intellect; while the phlegmatic man in such a\ncase still retains the full use of his mental faculties, though they are\nmuch more limited, and then accomplishes much more with them than the\ngreatest genius can achieve. Accordingly a passionate temperament is\nfavourable to the original quality of the intellect, but a phlegmatic\ntemperament to its use. Therefore genius proper is only for theoretical\nachievements, for which it can choose and await its time, which will just\nbe the time at which the will is entirely at rest, and no waves disturb\nthe clear mirror of the comprehension of the world. On the other hand,\ngenius is ill adapted and unserviceable for practical life, and is\ntherefore for the most part unfortunate. Goethe\u2019s \u201cTasso\u201d is written from\nthis point of view. As now genius proper depends upon the _absolute_\nstrength of the intellect, which must be purchased by a correspondingly\nexcessive vehemence of disposition, so, on the other hand, the great pre\u2010\neminence in practical life that makes generals and statesmen depends upon\nthe _relative_ strength of the intellect, thus upon the highest degree of\nit that can be attained without too great excitability of the emotions,\nand too great vehemence of character, and that therefore can hold its own\neven in the storm. Great firmness of will and constancy of mind, together\nwith a capable and fine understanding, are here sufficient; and whatever\ngoes beyond this acts detrimentally, for too great a development of the\nintelligence directly impedes firmness of character and resolution of\nwill. Hence this kind of eminence is not so abnormal, and is a hundred\ntimes less rare than the former kind; and accordingly we see great\ngenerals and great ministers appear in every age, whenever the merely\nexternal conditions are favourable to their efficiency. Great poets and\nphilosophers, on the other hand, leave centuries waiting for them; and yet\nhumanity may be contented even with this rare appearance of them, for\ntheir works remain, and do not exist only for the present, like the\nachievements of those other men. It is also quite in keeping with the law\nof the parsimony of nature referred to above that it bestows great\neminence of mind in general upon very few, and genius only as the rarest\nof all exceptions, while it equips the great mass of the human race with\nno more mental power than is required for the maintenance of the\nindividual and the species. For the great, and through their very\nsatisfaction, constantly increasing needs of the human race make it\nnecessary that the great majority of men should pass their lives in\noccupations of a coarsely physical and entirely mechanical description.\nAnd what would be the use to them of an active mind, a glowing\nimagination, a subtle understanding, and a profoundly penetrating\nintellect? These would only make them useless and unhappy. Therefore\nnature has thus gone about the most costly of all her productions in the\nleast extravagant manner. In order not to judge unfairly one ought also to\nsettle definitely one\u2019s expectations of the mental achievements of men\ngenerally from this point of view, and to regard, for example, even\nlearned men, since as a rule they have become so only by the force of\noutward circumstances, primarily as men whom nature really intended to be\ntillers of the soil; indeed even professors of philosophy ought to be\nestimated according to this standard, and then their achievements will be\nfound to come up to all fair expectations. It is worth noticing that in\nthe south, where the necessities of life press less severely upon the\nhuman race, and more leisure is allowed, the mental faculties even of the\nmultitude also become more active and finer. It is physiologically\nnoteworthy that the preponderance of the mass of the brain over that of\nthe spinal cord and the nerves, which, according to S\u00f6mmerring\u2019s acute\ndiscovery, affords the true and closest measure of the degree of\nintelligence both of species of brutes and of individual men, at the same\ntime increases the direct power of moving, the agility of the limbs;\nbecause, through the great inequality of the relation, the dependence of\nall motor nerves upon the brain becomes more decided; and besides this the\ncerebellum, which is the primary controller of movements, shares the\nqualitative perfection of the cerebrum; thus through both all voluntary\nmovements gain greater facility, rapidity, and manageableness, and by the\nconcentration of the starting\u2010point of all activity that arises which\nLichtenberg praises in Garrick: \u201cthat he appeared to be present in all the\nmuscles of his body.\u201d Hence clumsiness in the movement of the body\nindicates clumsiness in the movement of the thoughts, and will be regarded\nas a sign of stupidity both in individuals and nations, as much as\nsleepiness of the countenance and vacancy of the glance. Another symptom\nof the physiological state of the case referred to is the fact that many\npersons are obliged at once to stand still whenever their conversation\nwith any one who is walking with them begins to gain some connection;\nbecause their brain, as soon as it has to link together a few thoughts,\nhas no longer as much power over as is required to keep the limbs in\nmotion by means of the motory nerves, so closely is everything measured\nwith them.\n\nIt results from this whole objective consideration of the intellect and\nits origin, that it is designed for the comprehension of those ends upon\nthe attainment of which depends the individual life and its propagation,\nbut by no means for deciphering the inner nature of things and of the\nworld, which exists independently of the knower. What to the plant is the\nsusceptibility to light, in consequence of which it guides its growth in\nthe direction of it, that is, in kind, the knowledge of the brute, nay,\neven of man, although in degree it is increased in proportion as the needs\nof each of these beings demand. With them all apprehension remains a mere\nconsciousness of their relations to other things, and is by no means\nintended to present again in the consciousness of the knower the peculiar,\nabsolutely real nature of these things. Rather, as springing from the\nwill, the intellect is also only designed for its service, thus for the\napprehension of motives; it is adapted for this, and is therefore of a\nthoroughly practical tendency. This also holds good if we conceive the\nsignificance of life as ethical; for in this regard too we find man\nknowing only for the benefit of his conduct. Such a faculty of knowledge,\nexisting exclusively for practical ends, will from its nature always\ncomprehend only the relations of things to each other, but not the inner\nnature of them, as it is in itself. But to regard the complex of these\nrelations as the absolute nature of the world as it is in itself, and the\nmanner in which it necessarily exhibits itself in accordance with the laws\npredisposed in the brain as the eternal laws of the existence of all\nthings, and then to construct ontology, cosmology, and theology in\naccordance with this view\u2014this was really the old fundamental error, of\nwhich Kant\u2019s teaching has made an end. Here, then, our objective, and\ntherefore for the most part physiological consideration of the intellect\nmeets _his_ transcendental consideration of it; nay, appears in a certain\nsense even as an _a priori_ insight into it; for, from a point of view\nwhich we have taken up outside of it, our objective view enables us to\nknow in its origin, and therefore as _necessary_, what that transcendental\nconsideration, starting from facts of consciousness, presents only as a\nmatter of fact. For it follows from our objective consideration of the\nintellect, that the world as idea, as it exists stretched out in space and\ntime, and moves on regularly according to the strict law of causality, is\nprimarily only a physiological phenomenon, a function of the brain, which\nbrings it about, certainly upon the occasion of certain external stimuli,\nbut yet in conformity with its own laws. Accordingly it is beforehand a\nmatter of course, that what goes on in this function itself, and therefore\nthrough it and for it, must by no means be regarded as the nature of\n_things in themselves_, which exist independently of it and are entirely\ndifferent from it, but primarily exhibits only the mode or manner of this\nfunction itself, which can always receive only a very subordinate\nmodification through that which exists completely independently of it, and\nsets it in motion as a stimulus. As, then, Locke claimed for the organs of\nsense all that comes into our apprehension by means of the sensation, in\norder to deny that it belongs to things in themselves, so Kant, with the\nsame intention, and pursuing the same path further, has proved all that\nmakes _perception_ proper possible, thus space, time, and causality, to be\nfunctions of the brain; although he has refrained from using this\nphysiological expression, to which, however, our present method of\ninvestigation, coming from the opposite side, the side of the real,\nnecessarily leads us. Kant arrived upon his analytical path at the result\nthat what we know are mere _phenomena_. What this mysterious expression\nreally means becomes clear from our objective and genetic investigation of\nthe intellect. The phenomena are the motives for the aims of individual\nwill as they exhibit themselves in the intellect which the will has\nproduced for this purpose (which itself appears as a phenomenon\nobjectively, as the brain), and which, when comprehended, as far as one\ncan follow their concatenation, afford us in their connection the world\nwhich extends itself objectively in time and space, and which I call the\nworld as idea. Moreover, from our point of view, the objectionable element\nvanishes which in the Kantian doctrine arises from the fact that, because\nthe intellect knows merely phenomena instead of things as they are in\nthemselves, nay, in consequence of this is led astray into paralogisms and\nunfounded hypostases by means of \u201csophistications, not of men but of the\nreason itself, from which even the wisest does not free himself, and if,\nperhaps indeed after much trouble, he avoids error, can yet never get quit\nof the illusion which unceasingly torments and mocks him\u201d\u2014because of all\nthis, I say, the appearance arises that our intellect is intentionally\ndesigned to lead us into errors. For the objective view of the intellect\ngiven here, which contains a genesis of it, makes it conceivable that,\nbeing exclusively intended for practical ends, it is merely the _medium of\nmotives_, and therefore fulfils its end by an accurate presentation of\nthese, and that if we undertake to discover the nature of things in\nthemselves, from the manifold phenomena which here exhibit themselves\nobjectively to us, and their laws, we do this at our own peril and on our\nown responsibility. We have recognised that the original inner force of\nnature, without knowledge and working in the dark, which, if it has worked\nits way up to self\u2010consciousness, reveals itself to this as _will_,\nattains to this grade only by the production of an animal brain and of\nknowledge, as its function, whereupon the phenomenon of the world of\nperception arises in this brain. But to explain this mere brain\nphenomenon, with the conformity to law which is invariably connected with\nits functions, as the objective inner nature of the world and the things\nin it, which is independent of the brain, existing before and after it, is\nclearly a spring which nothing warrants us in making. From this _mundus\nph\u0153nomenon_, however, from this perception which arises under such a\nvariety of conditions, all our conceptions are drawn. They have all their\ncontent from it, or even only in relation to it. Therefore, as Kant says,\nthey are only for immanent, not for transcendental, use; that is to say,\nthese conceptions of ours, this first material of thought, and\nconsequently still more the judgments which result from their combination,\nare unfitted for the task of thinking the nature of things in themselves,\nand the true connection of the world and existence; indeed, to undertake\nthis is analogous to expressing the stereometrical content of a body in\nsquare inches. For our intellect, originally only intended to present to\nan individual will its paltry aims, comprehends accordingly mere\n_relations_ of things, and does not penetrate to their inner being, to\ntheir real nature. It is therefore a merely superficial force, clings to\nthe surface of things, and apprehends mere _species transitivas_, not the\ntrue being of things. From this it arises that we cannot understand and\ncomprehend any single thing, even the simplest and smallest, through and\nthrough, but something remains entirely inexplicable to us in each of\nthem. Just because the intellect is a product of nature, and is therefore\nonly intended for its ends, the Christian mystics have very aptly called\nit \u201cthe light of nature,\u201d and driven it back within its limits; for nature\nis the object to which alone it is the subject. The thought from which the\nCritique of Pure Reason has sprung really lies already at the foundation\nof this expression. That we cannot comprehend the world on the direct\npath, _i.e._, through the uncritical, direct application of the intellect\nand its data, but when we reflect upon it become ever more deeply involved\nin insoluble mysteries, points to the fact that the intellect, thus\nknowledge itself, is secondary, a mere product, brought about by the\ndevelopment of the inner being of the world, which consequently till then\npreceded it, and it at last appeared as a breaking through to the light\nout of the obscure depths of the unconscious striving the nature of which\nexhibits itself as _will_ to the self\u2010consciousness which now at once\narises. That which preceded knowledge as its condition, whereby it first\nbecame possible, thus its own basis, cannot be directly comprehended by\nit; as the eye cannot see itself. It is rather the relations of one\nexistence to another, exhibiting themselves upon the surface of things,\nwhich alone are its affair, and are so only by means of the apparatus of\nthe intellect, its forms, space, time, and causality. Just because the\nworld has made itself without the assistance of knowledge, its whole being\ndoes not enter into knowledge, but knowledge presupposes the existence of\nthe world; on which account the origin of the world does not lie within\nits sphere. It is accordingly limited to the relations between the things\nwhich lie before it, and is thus sufficient for the individual will, for\nthe service of which alone it appeared. For the intellect is, as has been\nshown, conditioned by nature, lies in it, belongs to it, and cannot\ntherefore place itself over against it as something quite foreign to it,\nin order thus to take up into itself its whole nature, absolutely,\nobjectively, and thoroughly. It can, if fortune favours it, understand all\nthat is in nature, but not nature itself, at least not directly.\n\nHowever discouraging to metaphysics this essential limitation of the\nintellect may be, which arises from its nature and origin, it has yet\nanother side which is very consoling. It deprives the direct utterances of\nnature of their unconditional validity, in the assertion of which\n_naturalism_ proper consists. If, therefore, nature presents to us every\nliving thing as appearing out of nothing, and, after an ephemeral\nexistence, returning again for ever to nothing, and if it seems to take\npleasure in the unceasing production of new beings, in order that it may\nbe able unceasingly to destroy, and, on the other hand, is unable to bring\nanything permanent to light; if accordingly we are forced to recognise\n_matter_ as that which alone is permanent, which never came into being and\nnever passes away, but brings forth all things from its womb, whence its\nname appears to be derived from _mater rerum_, and along with it, as the\nfather of things, _form_, which, just as fleeting as matter is permanent,\nchanges really every moment, and can only maintain itself so long as it\nclings as a parasite to matter (now to one part of it, now to another),\nbut when once it entirely loses hold, disappears, as is shown by the\npal\u00e6otheria and the ichthyosaurians, we must indeed recognise this as the\ndirect and genuine utterance of nature, but on account of the origin of\nthe intellect explained above, and the nature of it which results from\nthis origin, we cannot ascribe to this utterance an _unconditional truth_,\nbut rather only an entirely _conditional_ truth, which Kant has\nappropriately indicated as such by calling it the _phenomenon_ in\nopposition to the _thing in itself_.\n\nIf, in spite of this essential limitation of the intellect, it is\npossible, by a circuitous route, to arrive at a certain understanding of\nthe world and the nature of things, by means of reflection widely pursued,\nand the skilful combination of objective knowledge directed towards\nwithout, with the data of self\u2010consciousness, this will yet be only a very\nlimited, entirely indirect, and relative understanding, a parabolical\ntranslation into the forms of knowledge, thus a _quadam prodire tenus_,\nwhich must always leave many problems still unsolved. On the other hand,\nthe fundamental error of the old _dogmatism_ in all its forms, which was\ndestroyed by Kant, was this, that it started absolutely from _knowledge_,\ni.e., _the world as idea_, in order to deduce and construct from its laws\nbeing in general, whereby it accepted that world of idea, together with\nits laws, as absolutely existing and absolutely real; while its whole\nexistence is throughout relative, and a mere result or phenomenon of the\ntrue being which lies at its foundation,\u2014or, in other words, that it\nconstructed an ontology when it had only materials for a dianoiology. Kant\ndiscovered the subjectively conditioned and therefore entirely immanent\nnature of knowledge, _i.e._, its unsuitableness for transcendental use,\nfrom the constitution of knowledge itself; and therefore he very\nappropriately called his doctrine the _Critique of Reason_. He\naccomplished this partly by showing the important and thoroughly _a\npriori_ part of all knowledge, which, as throughout subjective, spoils all\nobjectivity, and partly by professedly proving that if they were followed\nout to the end the principles of knowledge, taken as purely objective, led\nto contradictions. He had, however, hastily assumed that, apart from\n_objective_ knowledge, _i.e._, apart from the world as _idea_, there is\nnothing given us except conscience, out of which he constructed the little\nthat still remained of metaphysics, his moral theology, to which, however,\nhe attributed absolutely only a practical validity, and no theoretical\nvalidity at all. He had overlooked that although certainly objective\nknowledge, or the world as idea, affords nothing but phenomena, together\nwith their phenomenal connection and regressus, yet our own nature\nnecessarily also belongs to the world of things in themselves, for it must\nhave its root in it. But here, even if the root itself cannot be brought\nto light, it must be possible to gather some data for the explanation of\nthe connection of the world of phenomena with the inner nature of things.\nThus here lies the path upon which I have gone beyond Kant and the limits\nwhich he drew, yet always restricting myself to the ground of reflection,\nand consequently of honesty, and therefore without the vain pretension of\nintellectual intuition or absolute thought which characterises the period\nof pseudo\u2010philosophy between Kant and me. In his proof of the\ninsufficiency of rational knowledge to fathom the nature of the world Kant\nstarted from knowledge as a _fact_, which our consciousness affords us,\nthus in this sense he proceeded _a posteriori_. But in this chapter, and\nalso in my work, \u201c_Ueber den Willen in der Natur_,\u201d I have sought to show\nwhat knowledge is in its _nature and origin_, something secondary,\ndesigned for individual ends; whence it follows that it _must be_\ninsufficient to fathom the nature of the world. Thus so far I have reached\nthe same goal _a priori_. But one never knows anything wholly and\ncompletely until one has gone right round it for that purpose, and has got\nback to it from the opposite side from which one started. Therefore also,\nin the case of the important fundamental knowledge here considered, one\nmust not merely go from the intellect to the knowledge of the world, as\nKant has done, but also from the world, taken as given, to the intellect,\nas I have undertaken here. Then this physiological consideration, in the\nwider sense, becomes the supplement of that ideological, as the French\nsay, or, more accurately, transcendental consideration.\n\nIn the above, in order not to break the thread of the exposition, I have\npostponed the explanation of one point which I touched upon. It was this,\nthat in proportion as, in the ascending series of animals, the intellect\nappears ever more developed and complete, _knowledge_ always separates\nitself more distinctly from _will_, and thereby becomes purer. What is\nessential upon this point will be found in my work, \u201c_Ueber den Willen in\nder Natur_,\u201d under the heading, \u201c_Pflanzenphysiologie_\u201d (p. 68\u201072 of the\nsecond, and 74\u201077 of the third edition), to which I refer, in order to\navoid repetition, and merely add here a few remarks. Since the plant\npossesses neither irritability nor sensibility, but the will objectifies\nitself in it only as plastic or reproductive power, it has neither muscle\nnor nerve. In the lowest grades of the animal kingdom, in zoophites,\nespecially in polyps, we cannot as yet distinctly recognise the separation\nof these two constituent parts, but still we assume their existence,\nthough in a state of fusion; because we perceive movements which follow,\nnot, as in the case of plants, upon mere stimuli, but upon motives,\n_i.e._, in consequence of a certain apprehension. Now in proportion as, in\nthe ascending series of animals, the nervous and muscular systems\n_separate_ ever more distinctly from each other, till in the vertebrate\nanimals, and most completely in man, the former divides into an organic\nand a cerebral nervous system, and of these the latter again develops into\nthe excessively complicated apparatus of the cerebrum and cerebellum,\nspinal marrow, cerebral and spinal nerves, sensory and motor nerve\nfascicles, of which only the cerebrum, together with the sensory nerves\ndepending upon it, and the posterior spinal nerve fascicles are intended\nfor the _apprehension of the motive_ from the external world, while all\nthe other parts are intended for the _transmission_ of the motive to the\nmuscles in which the will manifests itself directly; in the same\nproportion does the _motive_ separate ever more distinctly in\n_consciousness_ from the _act of will_ which it calls forth, thus the\n_idea_ from the _will_; and thereby the _objectivity_ of consciousness\nconstantly increases, for the ideas exhibit themselves ever more\ndistinctly and purely in it. These two _separations_ are, however, really\nonly one and the same, which we have here considered from two sides, the\nobjective and the subjective, or first in the consciousness of other\nthings and then in self\u2010consciousness. Upon the degree of this separation\nultimately depends the difference and the gradation of intellectual\ncapacity, both between different kinds of animals and between individual\nhuman beings; thus it gives the standard for the intellectual completeness\nof these beings. For the clearness of the consciousness of the external\nworld, the objectivity of the perception, depends upon it. In the passage\nreferred to above I have shown that the brute only perceives things so far\nas they are _motives_ for its will, and that even the most intelligent of\nthe brutes scarcely overstep these limits, because their intellect is too\nclosely joined to the will from which it has sprung. On the other hand,\neven the stupidest man comprehends things in some degree _objectively_;\nfor he recognises not merely what they are with reference to him, but also\nsomething of what they are with reference to themselves and to other\nthings. Yet in the case of very few does this reach such a degree that\nthey are in a position to examine and judge of anything purely\n_objectively_; but \u201cthat must I do, that must I say, that must I believe,\u201d\nis the goal to which on every occasion their thought hastens in a direct\nline, and at which their understanding at once finds welcome rest. For\nthinking is as unendurable to the weak head as the lifting of a burden to\nthe weak arm; therefore both hasten to set it down. The objectivity of\nknowledge, and primarily of perceptive knowledge, has innumerable grades,\nwhich depend upon the energy of the intellect and its separation from the\nwill, and the highest of which is _genius_, in which the comprehension of\nthe external world becomes so pure and objective that to it even more\nreveals itself directly in the individual thing than the individual thing\nitself, namely, the nature of its whole _species_, _i.e._, its Platonic\nIdea; which is brought about by the fact that in this case the will\nentirely vanishes from consciousness. Here is the point at which the\npresent investigation, starting from physiological grounds, connects\nitself with the subject of our third book, the metaphysics of the\nbeautiful, where \u00e6sthetic comprehension proper, which, in a high degree,\nis peculiar to genius alone, is fully considered as the condition of pure,\n_i.e._, perfectly will\u2010less, and on that account completely objective\nknowledge. According to what has been said, the rise of intelligence, from\nthe obscurest animal consciousness up to that of man, is a progressive\n_loosening of the intellect from the will_, which appears complete,\nalthough only as an exception, in the _genius_. Therefore genius may be\ndefined as the highest grade of the _objectivity_ of knowledge. The\ncondition of this, which so seldom occurs, is a decidedly larger measure\nof intelligence than is required for the service of the will, which\nconstitutes its basis; it is accordingly this free surplus which first\nreally properly comes to know the world, _i.e._, comprehends it perfectly\n_objectively_, and now paints pictures, composes poems, and thinks in\naccordance with this comprehension.\n\n\n\n\nChapter XXIII.(3)On The Objectification Of The Will In Unconscious Nature.\n\n\nThat the will which we find within us does not proceed, as philosophy has\nhitherto assumed, first from knowledge, and indeed is a mere modification\nof it, thus something secondary, derived, and, like knowledge itself,\nconditioned by the brain; but that it is the _prius_ of knowledge, the\nkernel of our nature, and that original force itself which forms and\nsustains the animal body, in that it carries out both its unconscious and\nits conscious functions;\u2014this is the first step in the fundamental\nknowledge of my metaphysics. Paradoxical as it even now seems to many that\nthe will in itself is without knowledge, yet the scholastics in some way\nalready recognised and confessed it; for Jul. C\u00e6s. Vaninus (that well\u2010\nknown sacrifice to fanaticism and priestly fury), who was thoroughly\nversed in their philosophy, says in his \u201c_Amphitheatro_,\u201d p. 181:\n\u201c_Voluntas potentia c\u0153ca est, ex scholasticorum opinione_.\u201d That, further,\nit is that same will which in the plant forms the bud in order to develop\nthe leaf and the flower out of it; nay, that the regular form of the\ncrystal is only the trace which its momentary effort has left behind, and\nthat in general, as the true and only \u03b1\u03c5\u03c4\u03bf\u03bc\u03b1\u03c4\u03bf\u03bd, in the proper sense of\nthe word, it lies at the foundation of all the forces of unorganised\nnature, plays, acts, in all their multifarious phenomena, imparts power to\ntheir laws, and even in the crudest mass manifests itself as gravity;\u2014this\ninsight is the second step in that fundamental knowledge, and is brought\nabout by further reflection. But it would be the grossest misunderstanding\nto suppose that this is a mere question of a word to denote an unknown\nquantity. It is rather the most real of all real knowledge which is here\nexpressed in language. For it is the tracing back of that which is quite\ninaccessible to our immediate knowledge, and therefore in its essence\nforeign and unknown to us, which we denote by the words _force of nature_,\nto that which is known to us most accurately and intimately, but which is\nyet only accessible to us in our own being and directly, and must\ntherefore be carried over from this to other phenomena. It is the insight\nthat what is inward and original in all the changes and movements of\nbodies, however various they may be, is in its nature identical; that yet\nwe have only one opportunity of getting to know it more closely and\ndirectly, and that is in the movements of our own body. In consequence of\nthis knowledge we must call it _will_. It is the insight that that which\nacts and strives in nature, and exhibits itself in ever more perfect\nphenomena, when it has worked itself up so far that the light of knowledge\nfalls directly upon it, _i.e._, when it has attained to the state of self\u2010\nconsciousness\u2014exists as that _will_, which is what is most intimately\nknown to us, and therefore cannot be further explained by anything else,\nbut rather affords the explanation of all other things. It is accordingly\nthe _thing in itself_ so far as this can ever be reached by knowledge.\nConsequently it is that which must express itself in some way in\neverything in the world, for it is the inner nature of the world and the\nkernel of all phenomena.\n\nAs my essay, \u201c_Ueber den Willen in der Natur_,\u201d specially refers to the\nsubject of this chapter, and also adduces the evidence of unprejudiced\nempiricists in favour of this important point of my doctrine, I have only\nto add now to what is said there a few supplementary remarks, which are\ntherefore strung together in a somewhat fragmentary manner.\n\nFirst, then, with reference to plant life, I draw attention to the\nremarkable first two chapters of Aristotle\u2019s work upon plants. What is\nmost interesting in them, as is so often the case with Aristotle, are the\nopinions of earlier profound philosophers quoted by him. We see there that\nAnaxagoras and Empedocles quite rightly taught that plants have the motion\nof their growth by virtue of their indwelling _desires_ (\u03b5\u03c0\u03b9\u03b8\u03c5\u03bc\u03b9\u03b1); nay,\nthat they also attributed to them pleasure and pain, therefore sensation.\nBut Plato only ascribed to them desires, and that on account of their\nstrong appetite for nutrition (_cf._ Plato in the \u201c_Tim\u0153us_,\u201d p. 403,\nBip.) Aristotle, on the other hand, true to his customary method, glides\non the surface of things, confines himself to single characteristics and\nconceptions fixed by current expressions, and asserts that without\nsensation there can be no desires, and that plants have not sensation. He\nis, however, in considerable embarrassment, as his confused language\nshows, till here also, \u201cwhere fails the comprehension, a word steps\npromptly in as deputy,\u201d namely, \u03c4\u03bf \u03b8\u03c1\u03b5\u03c0\u03c4\u03b9\u03ba\u03bf\u03bd, the faculty of nourishing.\nPlants have this, and thus a part of the so\u2010called soul, according to his\nfavourite division into _anima vegetativa_, _sensitiva_, and\n_intellectiva_. This, however, is just a scholastic _Quidditas_, and\nsignifies _plant\u0153 nutriuntur quia habent facultatem nutritivam_. It is\ntherefore a bad substitute for the more profound research of his\npredecessors, whom he is criticising. We also see, in the second chapter,\nthat Empedocles even recognised the sexuality of plants; which Aristotle\nthen also finds fault with, and conceals his want of special knowledge\nbehind general propositions, such as this, that plants could not have both\nsexes combined, for if so they would be more complete than animals. By\nquite an analogous procedure he displaces the correct astronomical system\nof the world of the Pythagoreans, and by his absurd fundamental\nprinciples, which he specially explains in the books _de C\u0153lo_, introduces\nthe system of Ptolemy, whereby mankind was again deprived of an already\ndiscovered truth of the greatest importance for almost two thousand years.\n\nI cannot refrain from giving here the saying of an excellent biologist of\nour own time who fully agrees with my teaching. It is G. R. Treviranus,\nwho, in his work, \u201c_Ueber die Erscheinungen und Gesetze des organischen\nLebens_,\u201d 1832, Bd. 2, Abth. 1, \u00a7 49, has said what follows: \u201cA form of\nlife is, however, conceivable in which the effect of the external upon the\ninternal produces merely feelings of desire or dislike. Such is the life\nof plants. In the higher forms of animal life the external is felt as\nsomething objective.\u201d Treviranus speaks here from pure unprejudiced\ncomprehension of nature, and is as little conscious of the metaphysical\nimportance of his words as of the _contradictio in adjecto_ which lies in\nthe conception of something \u201cfelt as objective,\u201d a conception which indeed\nhe works out at great length. He does not know that all feeling is\nessentially subjective, and all that is objective is, on the other hand,\nperception, and therefore a product of the understanding. Yet this does\nnot detract at all from the truth and importance of what he says.\n\nIn fact, in the life of plants the truth that will can exist without\nknowledge is apparent\u2014one might say palpably recognisable. For here we see\na decided effort, determined by wants, modified in various ways, and\nadapting itself to the difference of the circumstances, yet clearly\nwithout knowledge. And just because the plant is without knowledge it\nbears its organs of generation ostentatiously in view, in perfect\ninnocence; it knows nothing about it. As soon, on the other hand, as in\nthe series of existences knowledge appears the organs of generation are\ntransferred to a hidden part. Man, however, with whom this is again less\nthe case, conceals them intentionally: he is ashamed of them.\n\nPrimarily, then, the vital force is identical with the will, but so also\nare all other forces of nature; though this is less apparent. If,\ntherefore, we find the recognition of a desire, _i.e._, of a will, as the\nbasis of _plant life_, expressed at all times, with more or less\ndistinctness of conception, on the other hand, the reference of the forces\nof _unorganised_ nature to the same foundation is rarer in proportion as\ntheir remoteness from our own nature is greater. In fact, the boundary\nbetween the organised and the unorganised is the most sharply drawn in the\nwhole of nature, and perhaps the only one that admits of no\ntransgressions; so that _natura non facit saltus_ seems to suffer an\nexception here. Although certain crystallisations display an external form\nresembling the vegetable, yet even between the smallest lichen, the lowest\nfungus, and everything unorganised there remains a fundamental and\nessential difference. In the _unorganised_ body that which is essential\nand permanent, thus that upon which its identity and integrity rests, is\nthe material, the _matter_; what is unessential and changing is, on the\nother hand, the _form_. With the _organised_ body the case is exactly\nreversed; for its life, _i.e._, its existence as an organised being,\nsimply consists in the constant change of the _material_, while the _form_\nremains permanent. Its being and its identity thus lies in the _form_\nalone. Therefore the continuance of the _unorganised_ body depends upon\n_repose_ and exclusion from external influences: thus alone does it retain\nits existence; and if this condition is perfect, such a body lasts for\never. The continuance of the _organised_ body, on the contrary, just\ndepends upon continual _movement_ and the constant reception of external\ninfluences. As soon as these are wanting and the movement in it stops it\nis dead, and thereby ceases to be organic, although the trace of the\norganism that has been still remains for a while. Therefore the talk,\nwhich is so much affected in our own day, of the life of what is\nunorganised, indeed of the globe itself, and that it, and also the\nplanetary system, is an organism, is entirely inadmissible. The predicate\nlife belongs only to what is organised. Every organism, however, is\nthroughout organised, is so in all its parts; and nowhere are these, even\nin their smallest particles, composed by aggregation of what is\nunorganised. Thus if the earth were an organism, all mountains and rocks,\nand the whole interior of their mass, would necessarily be organised, and\naccordingly really nothing unorganised would exist; and therefore the\nwhole conception of it would be wanting.\n\nOn the other hand, that the manifestation of a _will_ is as little bound\nup with life and organisation as with knowledge, and that therefore the\nunorganised has also a will, the manifestations of which are all its\nfundamental qualities, which cannot be further explained,\u2014this is an\nessential point in my doctrine; although the trace of such a thought is\nfar seldomer found in writers who have preceded me than that of the will\nin plants, where, however, it is still unconscious.\n\nIn the forming of the crystal we see, as it were, a tendency towards an\nattempt at life, to which, however, it does not attain, because the\nfluidity of which, like a living thing, it is composed at the moment of\nthat movement is not enclosed in a _skin_, as is always the case with the\nlatter, and consequently it has neither vessels in which that movement\ncould go on, nor does anything separate it from the external world.\nTherefore, rigidity at once seizes that momentary movement, of which only\nthe trace remains as the crystal.\n\nThe thought that the will, which constitutes the basis of our own nature,\nis also the same will which shows itself even in the lowest unorganised\nphenomena, on account of which the conformity to law of both phenomena\nshows a perfect analogy, lies at the foundation of Goethe\u2019s\n\u201c_Wahlverwandtschaften_,\u201d as the title indeed indicates, although he\nhimself was unconscious of this.\n\nMechanics and astronomy specially show us how this will conducts itself so\nfar as it appears at the lowest grade of its manifestation merely as\ngravity, rigidity, and inertia. Hydraulics shows us the same thing where\nrigidity is wanting and the fluid material is now unrestrainedly\nsurrendered to its predominating passion, gravity. In this sense\nhydraulics may be conceived as a characteristic sketch of water, for it\npresents to us the manifestations of will to which water is moved by\ngravity; these always correspond exactly to the external influences, for\nin the case of all non\u2010individual existences there is no particular\ncharacter in addition to the general one; thus they can easily be referred\nto fixed characteristics, which are called laws, and which are learned by\nexperience of water. These laws accurately inform us how water will\nconduct itself under all different circumstances, on account of its\ngravity, the unconditioned mobility of its parts, and its want of\nelasticity. Hydrostatics teaches how it is brought to rest through\ngravity; hydrodynamics, how it is set in motion; and the latter has also\nto take account of hindrances which adhesion opposes to the will of water:\nthe two together constitute hydraulics. In the same way Chemistry teaches\nus how the will conducts itself when the inner qualities of materials\nobtain free play by being brought into a fluid state, and there appears\nthat wonderful attraction and repulsion, separating and combining, leaving\ngo of one to seize upon another, from which every precipitation\noriginates, and the whole of which is denoted by \u201celective affinity\u201d (an\nexpression which is entirely borrowed from the conscious will). But\nAnatomy and Physiology allow us to see how the will conducts itself in\norder to bring about the phenomenon of life and sustain it for a while.\nFinally, the poet shows us how the will conducts itself under the\ninfluence of motives and reflection. He exhibits it therefore for the most\npart in the most perfect of its manifestations, in rational beings, whose\ncharacter is individual, and whose conduct and suffering he brings before\nus in the Drama, the Epic, the Romance, &c. The more correctly, the more\nstrictly according to the laws of nature his characters are there\npresented, the greater is his fame; hence Shakespeare stands at the top.\nThe point of view which is here taken up corresponds at bottom to the\nspirit in which Goethe followed and loved the natural sciences, although\nhe was not conscious of the matter in the abstract. Nay more, this not\nonly appears from his writings, but is also known to me from his personal\nutterances.\n\nIf we consider the will, where no one denies it, in conscious beings, we\nfind everywhere, as its fundamental effort, the _self\u2010preservation_ of\nevery being: _omnis natura vult esse conservatrix sui_. But all\nmanifestations of this fundamental effort may constantly be traced back to\na seeking or pursuit and a shunning or fleeing from, according to the\noccasion. Now this also may be shown even at the lowest grades of nature,\nthat is, of the objectification of the will, where the bodies still act\nonly as bodies in general, thus are the subject\u2010matter of mechanics, and\nare considered only with reference to the manifestations of\nimpenetrability, cohesion, rigidity, elasticity, and gravity. Here also\nthe _seeking_ shows itself as gravitation, and the _shunning_ as the\nreceiving of motion; and the _movableness_ of bodies by pressure or\nimpact, which constitutes the basis of mechanics, is at bottom a\nmanifestation of the effort after _self\u2010preservation_, which dwells in\nthem also. For, since as bodies they are impenetrable, this is the sole\nmeans of preserving their cohesion, thus their continuance at any time.\nThe body which is impelled or exposed to pressure would be crushed to\npieces by the impelling or pressing body if it did not withdraw itself\nfrom its power by flight, in order to preserve its cohesion; and when\nflight is impossible for it this actually happens. Indeed, one may regard\n_elastic_ bodies as the more _courageous_, which seek to repel the enemy,\nor at least to prevent him from pursuing further. Thus in the one secret\nwhich (besides gravity) is left by mechanics otherwise so clear, in the\ncommunicability of motion, we see a manifestation of the fundamental\neffort of the will in all its phenomena, the effort after self\u2010\npreservation, which shows itself even at the lowest grades as that which\nis essential.\n\nIn unorganised nature the will objectifies itself primarily in the\nuniversal forces, and only by means of these in the phenomena of the\nparticular things which are called forth by causes. In \u00a7 26 of the first\nvolume I have fully explained the relation between cause, force of nature,\nand will as thing in itself. One sees from that explanation that\nmetaphysics never interrupts the course of physics, but only takes up the\nthread where physics leaves it, at the original forces in which all causal\nexplanation has its limits. Only here does the metaphysical explanation\nfrom the will as the thing in itself begin. In the case of every physical\nphenomenon, of every _change_ of material things, its cause is primarily\nto be looked for; and this cause is just such a particular _change_ which\nhas appeared immediately before it. Then, however, the original force of\nnature is to be sought by virtue of which this cause was capable of\nacting. And first of all the _will_ is to be recognised as the inner\nnature of this force in opposition to its manifestation. Yet the will\nshows itself just as directly in the fall of a stone as in the action of\nthe man; the difference is only that its particular manifestation is in\nthe one case called forth by a motive, in the other by a mechanically\nacting cause, for example, the taking away of what supported the stone;\nyet in both cases with equal necessity; and that in the one case it\ndepends upon an individual character, in the other upon an universal force\nof nature. This identity of what is fundamentally essential is even made\npalpable to the senses. If, for instance, we carefully observe a body\nwhich has lost its equilibrium, and on account of its special form rolls\nback and forward for a long time till it finds its centre of gravity\nagain, a certain appearance of life forces itself upon us, and we directly\nfeel that something analogous to the foundation of life is also active\nhere. This is certainly the universal force of nature, which, however, in\nitself identical with the _will_, becomes here, as it were, the soul of a\nvery brief _quasi_ life. Thus what is identical in the two extremes of the\nmanifestation of the will makes itself faintly known here even to direct\nperception, in that this raises a feeling in us that here also something\nentirely original, such as we only know in the acts of our own will,\ndirectly succeeded in manifesting itself.\n\nWe may attain to an intuitive knowledge of the existence and activity of\nthe will in unorganised nature in quite a different and a sublime manner\nif we study the problem of the three heavenly bodies, and thus learn more\naccurately and specially the course of the moon round the earth. By the\ndifferent combinations which the constant change of the position of these\nthree heavenly bodies towards each other introduces, the course of the\nmoon is now accelerated; now retarded, now it approaches the earth, and\nagain recedes from it; and this again takes place differently in the\nperihelion of the earth from in its aphelion, all of which together\nintroduces such irregularity into the moon\u2019s course that it really obtains\na capricious appearance; for, indeed, Kepler\u2019s third law is no longer\nconstantly valid, but in equal times it describes unequal areas. The\nconsideration of this course is a small and separate chapter of celestial\nmechanics, which is distinguished in a sublime manner from terrestrial\nmechanics by the absence of all impact and pressure, thus of the _vis a\ntergo_ which appears to us so intelligible, and indeed of the actually\ncompleted case, for besides _vis inerti\u0153_ it knows no other moving and\ndirecting force, except only gravitation, that longing for union which\nproceeds from the very inner nature of bodies. If now we construct for\nourselves in imagination the working of this given case in detail, we\nrecognise distinctly and directly in the moving force here that which is\ngiven to us in self\u2010consciousness as will. For the alterations in the\ncourse of the earth and the moon, according as one of them is by its\nposition more or less exposed to the influence of the sun, are evidently\nanalogous to the influence of newly appearing motives upon our wills, and\nto the modifications of our action which result.\n\nThe following is an illustrative example of another kind. Liebig (_Chemie\nin Anwendung auf Agrikultur_, p. 501), says: \u201cIf we bring moist copper\ninto air which contains carbonic acid, the affinity of the metal for the\noxygen of the air will be increased by the contact with this acid to such\na degree that the two will combine with each other; its surface will be\ncoated with green carbonic oxide of copper. But now two bodies which have\nthe capacity of combining, the moment they meet assume opposite electrical\nconditions. Therefore if we touch the copper with iron, by producing a\nspecial electrical state, the capacity of the copper to enter into\ncombination with the oxygen is destroyed; even under the above conditions\nit remains bright.\u201d The fact is well known and of technical use. I quote\nit in order to say that here the will of the copper, laid claim to and\noccupied by the electrical opposition to iron, leaves unused the\nopportunity which presents itself for its chemical affinity for oxygen and\ncarbonic acid. Accordingly it conducts itself exactly as the will in a man\nwho omits an action which he would otherwise feel himself moved to in\norder to perform another to which a stronger motive urges him.\n\nI have shown in the first volume that the forces of nature lie outside the\nchain of causes and effects, because they constitute their accompanying\ncondition, their metaphysical foundation, and therefore prove themselves\nto be eternal and omnipresent, _i.e._, independent of time and space. Even\nin the uncontested truth that what is essential to a _cause_ as such\nconsists in this, that it will produce the same effect at any future time\nas it does now, it is already involved that something lies in the cause\nwhich is independent of the course of time, _i.e._, is outside of all\ntime; this is the force of nature which manifests itself in it. One can\neven convince oneself to a certain extent empirically and as a matter of\nfact of the _ideality_ of this form of our perception by fixing one\u2019s eyes\nupon the powerlessness of time as opposed to natural forces. If, for\nexample, a rotatory motion is imparted to a planet by some external cause,\nif no new cause enters to stop it, this motion will endure for ever. This\ncould not be so if time were something in itself and had an objective,\nreal existence; for then it would necessarily also produce some effect.\nThus we see here, on the one hand, the _forces of nature_, which manifest\nthemselves in that rotation, and, if it is once begun, carry it on for\never without becoming weary or dying out, prove themselves to be eternal\nor timeless, and consequently absolutely real and existing in themselves;\nand, on the other hand, _time_ as something which consists only in the\nmanner in which we apprehend that phenomenon, since it exerts no power and\nno influence upon the phenomenon itself; for _what does not act is not_.\n\nWe have a natural inclination whenever it is possible to explain every\nnatural phenomenon _mechanically_; doubtless because mechanics calls in\nthe assistance of the fewest original, and hence inexplicable, forces,\nand, on the other hand, contains much that can be known _a priori_, and\ntherefore depends upon the forms of our own intellect, which as such\ncarries with it the highest degree of comprehensibility and clearness.\nHowever, in the \u201cMetaphysical First Principles of Natural Science\u201d Kant\nhas referred mechanical activity itself to a dynamical activity. On the\nother hand, the application of mechanical explanatory hypotheses, beyond\nwhat is demonstrably mechanical, to which, for example, Acoustics also\nbelongs, is entirely unjustified, and I will never believe that even the\nsimplest chemical combination or the difference of the three states of\naggregation will ever admit of mechanical explanation, much less the\nproperties of light, of heat, and electricity. These will always admit\nonly of a dynamical explanation, _i.e._, one which explains the phenomenon\nfrom original forces which are entirely different from those of impact,\npressure, weight, &c., and are therefore of a higher kind, _i.e._, are\nmore distinct objectifications of that will which obtains visible form in\nall things. I am of opinion that light is neither an emanation nor a\nvibration; both views are akin to that which explains transparency from\npores and the evident falseness of which is proved by the fact that light\nis subject to no mechanical laws. In order to obtain direct conviction of\nthis one only requires to watch the effects of a storm of wind, which\nbends, upsets, and scatters everything, but during which a ray of light\nshooting down from a break in the clouds is entirely undisturbed and\nsteadier than a rock, so that with great directness it imparts to us the\nknowledge that it belongs to another order of things than the mechanical:\nit stands there unmoved like a ghost. Those constructions of light from\nmolecules and atoms which have originated with the French are indeed a\nrevolting absurdity. An article by Amp\u00e8re, who is otherwise so acute, upon\nlight and heat, which is to be found in the April number of the \u201c_Annales\nde chimie et physique_,\u201d of 1835, may be considered as a flagrant\nexpression of this, and indeed of the whole of atomism in general. There\nthe solid, the fluid, and the elastic consist of the same atoms, and all\ndifferences arise solely from their aggregation; nay, it is said that\nspace indeed is infinitely divisible, but not matter; because, if the\ndivision has been carried as far as the atoms, the further division must\nfall in the spaces between the atoms! Light and heat, then, are here\nvibrations of the atoms; and sound, on the other hand, is a vibration of\nthe molecules composed of the atoms. In truth, however, these atoms are a\nfixed idea of the French savants, and therefore they just speak of them as\nif they had seen them. Otherwise one would necessarily marvel that such a\nmatter\u2010of\u2010fact nation as the French can hold so firmly to a completely\ntranscendent hypothesis, which is quite beyond the possibility of\nexperience, and confidently build upon it up to the sky. This is just a\nconsequence of the backward state of the metaphysics they shun so much,\nwhich is poorly represented by M. Cousin, who, with all good will, is\nshallow and very scantily endowed with judgment. At bottom they are still\nLockeians, owing to the earlier influence of Condillac. Therefore for them\nthe thing in itself is really matter, from the fundamental properties of\nwhich, such as impenetrability, form, hardness, and the other primary\nqualities, everything in the world must be ultimately explicable. They\nwill not let themselves be talked out of this, and their tacit assumption\nis that matter can only be moved by mechanical forces. In Germany Kant\u2019s\nteaching has prevented the continuance of the absurdities of the atomistic\nand purely mechanical physics for any length of time; although at the\npresent moment these views prevail here also, which is a consequence of\nthe shallowness, crudeness, and folly introduced by Hegel. However, it\ncannot be denied that not only the evidently porous nature of natural\nbodies, but also two special doctrines of modern physics, apparently\nrender assistance to the atomic nuisance. These are, Hauz\u2019s\nCrystallography, which traces every crystal back to its kernel form, which\nis an ultimate form, though only _relatively_ indivisible; and Berzelius\u2019s\ndoctrine of chemical atoms, which are yet mere expressions for combining\nproportions, thus only arithmetical quantities, and at bottom nothing more\nthan counters. On the other hand, Kant\u2019s thesis in the second antinomy in\ndefence of atoms, which is certainly only set up for dialectical purposes,\nis a mere sophism, as I have proved in my criticism of his philosophy, and\nour understanding itself by no means leads us necessarily to the\nassumption of atoms. For just as little as I am obliged to think that the\nslow but constant and uniform _motion_ of a body before my eyes is\ncomposed of innumerable motions which are absolutely quick, but broken and\ninterrupted by just as many absolutely short moments of rest, but, on the\ncontrary, know very well that the stone that has been thrown flies more\nslowly than the projected bullet, yet never pauses for an instant on the\nway, so little am I obliged to think of the mass of a body as consisting\nof atoms and the spaces between them, _i.e._, of absolute density and\nabsolute vacuity; but I comprehend those two phenomena without difficulty\nas constant _continua_, one of which uniformly fills time and the other\nspace. But just as the one motion may yet be quicker than another, _i.e._,\nin an equal time can pass through more space, so also one body may have a\ngreater specific gravity than another, _i.e._, in equal space may contain\nmore matter: in both cases the difference depends upon the intensity of\nthe acting force; for Kant (following Priestley) has quite correctly\nreduced matter to forces. But even if the analogy here set up should not\nbe admitted as valid, and it should be insisted upon that the difference\nof specific gravity can only have its ground in porosity, even this\nassumption would always lead, not to atoms, but only to a perfectly dense\nmatter, unequally distributed among different bodies; a matter which would\ncertainly be no longer _compressible_, when no pores ran through it, but\nyet, like the space which it fills, would always remain infinitely\n_divisible_. For the fact that it would have no pores by no means involves\nthat no possible force could do away with the continuity of its spatial\nparts. For to say that everywhere this is only possible by extending the\nalready existing intervals is a purely arbitrary assertion.\n\nThe assumption of atoms rests upon the two phenomena which have been\ntouched upon, the difference of the specific gravity of bodies and that of\ntheir compressibility, for both are conveniently explained by the\nassumption of atoms. But then both must also always be present in like\nmeasure, which is by no means the case. For, for example, water has a far\nlower specific gravity than all metals properly so called. It must thus\nhave fewer atoms and greater interstices between them, and consequently be\nvery compressible: but it is almost entirely incompressible.\n\nThe defence of atoms might be conducted in this way. One may start from\nporosity and say something of this sort: All bodies have pores, and\ntherefore so also have all parts of a body: now if this were carried out\nto infinity, there would ultimately be nothing left of a body but pores.\nThe refutation would be that what remained over would certainly have to be\nassumed as without pores, and so far as absolutely dense, yet not on that\naccount as consisting of absolutely indivisible particles, atoms;\naccordingly it would certainly be absolutely incompressible, but not\nabsolutely indivisible. It would therefore be necessary that it should be\nasserted that the division of a body is only possible by penetrating into\nits pores; which, however, is entirely unproved. If, however, this is\nassumed, then we certainly have atoms, _i.e._, absolutely indivisible\nbodies, thus bodies of such strong cohesion of their spatial parts that no\npossible power can separate them: but then one may just as well assume\nsuch bodies to be large as small, and an atom might be as big as an ox, if\nit only would resist all possible attacks upon it.\n\nImagine two bodies of very different kinds, entirely freed from all pores\nby compression, as by means of hammering, or by pulverisation;\u2014would their\nspecific gravity then be the same? This would be the criterion of\ndynamics.\n\n\n\n\nChapter XXIV. On Matter.\n\n\nMatter has already been spoken of in the fourth chapter of the supplements\nto the first book, when we were considering the part of our knowledge of\nwhich we are conscious _a priori_. But it could only be considered there\nfrom a one\u2010sided point of view, because we were then concerned merely with\nits relation to the forms of our intellect, and not to the thing in\nitself, and therefore we investigated it only from the subjective side,\n_i.e._, so far as it is an idea, and not from the objective side, _i.e._,\nwith regard to what it may be in itself. In the first respect, our\nconclusion was that it is objective _activity_ in general, yet conceived\nwithout fuller determination; therefore it takes the place of causality in\nthe table of our _a priori_ knowledge which is given there. For what is\nmaterial is that which _acts_ (the actual) in general, and regarded apart\nfrom the specific nature of its action. Hence also matter, merely as such,\nis not an object of _perception_, but only of _thought_, and thus is\nreally an abstraction. It only comes into perception in connection with\nform and quality, as a body, _i.e._, as a fully determined kind of\nactivity. It is only by abstracting from this fuller determination that we\nthink of matter as such, _i.e._, separated from form and quality;\nconsequently under matter we think of _acting_ absolutely and in general,\nthus of _activity_ in the abstract. The more fully determined acting we\nthen conceive as the _accident_ of matter; but only by means of this does\nmatter become perceptible, _i.e._, present itself as a body and an object\nof experience. Pure matter, on the other hand, which, as I have shown in\nthe Criticism of the Kantian Philosophy, alone constitutes the true and\nadmissible content of the conception of _substance_, is causality itself,\nthought objectively, consequently as in space, and therefore filling it.\nAccordingly the whole being of matter consists in _acting_. Only thus does\nit occupy space and last in time. It is through and through pure\ncausality. Therefore wherever there is action there is matter, and the\nmaterial is the active in general. But causality itself is the form of our\nunderstanding; for it is known to us _a priori_, as well as time and\nspace. Thus matter also, _so far_ and up to this point, belongs to the\nformal part of our knowledge, and is consequently that form of the\nunderstanding, _causality_ itself, bound up with space and time, hence\nobjectified, _i.e._, conceived as that which fills space. (The fuller\nexplanation of this doctrine will be found in the second edition of the\nessay on the principle of sufficient reason, p. 77; third edition, p. 82.)\nSo far, however, matter is properly not the _object_ but the _condition_\nof experience; like the pure understanding itself, whose function it so\nfar is. Therefore of pure matter there is also only a _conception_, no\n_perception_. It enters into all external experience as a necessary\nconstituent part of it; yet it cannot be given in any experience, but is\nonly _thought_, and thought indeed as that which is absolutely inert,\ninactive, formless, and without qualities, and which is yet the supporter\nof all forms, qualities, and effects. Accordingly, of all fleeting\nphenomena, thus of all manifestations of natural forces and all living\nbeings, matter is the _permanent substratum_ which is necessarily produced\nby the forms of our intellect in which the world as _idea_ exhibits\nitself. As such, and as having sprung from the forms of the intellect, it\nis entirely _indifferent_ to those phenomena themselves, _i.e._, it is\njust as ready to be the supporter of this force of nature as of that,\nwhenever, under the guidance of causality, the necessary conditions\nappear; while it itself, just because its existence is really only\n_formal_, _i.e._, is founded in the _intellect_ must be thought as that\nwhich under all that change is absolutely permanent, thus with regard to\ntime is without beginning and without end. This is why we cannot give up\nthe thought that anything may be made out of anything, for example, gold\nout of lead; for this would only require that we should find out and bring\nabout the intermediate states which matter, in itself indifferent, would\nhave to pass through upon that path. For _a priori_ we can never see why\nthe same matter which is now the supporter of the quality lead could not\nsome time become the supporter of the quality gold. Matter, as that which\nis only _thought_ _a priori_, is distinguished from the _a priori_\n_intuitions_ or _perceptions_ proper by the fact that we can also think it\nentirely away; space and time, on the contrary, never. But this only shows\nthat we can present to ourselves space and time in imagination without\nmatter. For the matter which has once been placed in them, and accordingly\nthought as _existing_, we can never again absolutely think away, _i.e._,\nimagine it as vanished and annihilated, but are always forced to think of\nit merely as transferred to another space. So far, then, matter is as\ninseparably connected with our faculty of knowledge as space and time\nthemselves. Yet even the difference that it must first be voluntarily\nthought as existing indicates that it does not belong so entirely and in\nevery regard to the _formal_ part of our knowledge as space and time, but\nalso contains an element which is only given _a posteriori_. It is, in\nfact, the point of connection of the empirical part of our knowledge with\nthe pure and _a priori_ part, consequently the peculiar foundation\u2010stone\nof the world of experience.\n\nOnly where all _a priori_ assertions cease, therefore in the _entirely\nempirical_ part of our knowledge of bodies, in their form, quality, and\ndefinite manner of acting, does that _will_ reveal itself which we have\nalready recognised and established as the true inner nature of things. But\nthese forms and qualities always appear only as the properties and\nmanifestations of that very _matter_ the existence and nature of which\ndepends upon the subjective forms of our intellect, _i.e._, they only\nbecome visible in it, and therefore by means of it. For that which always\nexhibits itself to us is only _matter_ acting in some specially determined\nmanner. Out of the inner properties of such matter, properties which\ncannot be further explained, proceeds every definite kind of effect of\ngiven bodies; and yet the matter itself is never perceived, but only these\neffects, and the definite properties which lie at their foundation, after\nseparating which, matter, as that which then remains over, is necessarily\nadded in thought by us; for, according to the exposition given above, it\nis objectified _causality itself_. Accordingly matter is that whereby the\n_will_, which constitutes the inner nature of things, becomes capable of\nbeing apprehended, perceptible, _visible_. In this sense, then, matter is\nsimply the _visibility_ of the will, or the bond between the world as will\nand the world as idea. It belongs to the latter inasmuch as it is the\nproduct of the functions of the intellect, to the former inasmuch as that\nwhich manifests itself in all material existences, _i.e._, phenomena is\nthe will. Therefore every object is, as thing in itself, will, and as\nphenomenon, matter. If we could strip any given matter of all the\nproperties that come to it _a priori_, _i.e._, of all the forms of our\nperception and apprehension, we would have left the thing in itself, that\nwhich, by means of those forms, appears as the purely empirical in matter,\nbut which would then itself no longer appear as something extended and\nactive; _i.e._, we would no longer have matter before us, but the will.\nThis very thing in itself, or the will, in that it becomes a phenomenon,\n_i.e._, enters the forms of our intellect, appears as matter, _i.e._, as\nthe invisible but necessarily assumed supporter of the properties which\nare only visible through it. In this sense, then, matter is the visibility\nof the _will_. Consequently Plotinus and Giordano Bruno were right, not\nonly in their sense but also in ours, when they made the paradoxical\nassertion already referred to in chapter 4: Matter itself is not extended,\nconsequently it is incorporeal. For space, which is our form of\nperception, imparts extension to matter, and corporeal existence consists\nin acting, which depends upon causality, and consequently upon the form of\nour understanding. On the other hand, every definite property, thus\neverything empirical in matter, even gravity, depends upon that which only\nbecomes visible by means of matter, the thing in itself, the will. Gravity\nis yet the lowest of all grades of the objectification of the will;\ntherefore it appears in all matter without exception, thus is inseparable\nfrom matter in general. Yet, just because it is a manifestation of the\nwill, it belongs to knowledge _a posteriori_, not to knowledge _a priori_.\nTherefore we can always picture to ourselves matter without weight, but\nnot without extension, repulsive force, and stability, for then it would\nbe without impenetrability, and consequently would not occupy space,\n_i.e._, it would be without _the power of acting_; but the nature of\nmatter as such just consists in _acting_, _i.e._, in causality in general;\nand causality depends upon the _a priori_ form of our understanding, and\ntherefore cannot be thought away.\n\nMatter is accordingly the _will_ itself, but no longer in itself, but so\nfar as it is _perceived_, _i.e._, assumes the form of the objective idea.\nThus what objectively is matter is subjectively will. Exactly\ncorresponding to this, as was proved above, our body is just the\nvisibility, objectivity of our will, and so also every body is the\nobjectivity of the will at some one of its grades. Whenever the will\nexhibits itself to objective knowledge it enters into the forms of\nperception of the intellect, time, space, and causality. But on account of\nthis it exists at once as a _material_ object. We can present to our minds\nform without matter, but not the reverse; because matter deprived of form\nwould be the will itself, and the will only becomes objective by entering\nthe forms of perception of our intellect, and therefore only by means of\nthe assumption of form. Space is the form of perception of matter because\nthe latter is the substance (Stoff) of mere form, but matter can _appear_\nonly in form.\n\nSince the will becomes objective, _i.e._, passes over into the idea,\nmatter is the universal substratum of this objectification, or rather it\nis this objectification itself taken abstractly, _i.e._, regarded apart\nfrom all form. Matter is accordingly the _visibility_ of the will in\ngeneral, while the character of its definite manifestations has its\nexpression in form and quality. Hence what in the manifestation, _i.e._,\nfor the idea, is _matter_ is in itself _will_. Therefore, under the\nconditions of experience and perception, everything holds good of it that\nholds good of the will in itself, and it repeats all the relations and\nproperties of the will in temporal images. Accordingly it is the substance\nof the world of perception, as the will is the inner nature of all things.\nThe forms are innumerable, the matter is one; just as the will is one in\nall its objectifications. As the will never objectifies itself as general,\n_i.e._, as absolute will, but always as particular, _i.e._, under special\ndeterminations and a given character, so matter never appears as such, but\nalways in connection with some particular form and quality. In the\nmanifestation or objectification of the will matter represents its\ntotality, it itself, which in all is one, as matter is one in all bodies.\nAs the will is the inmost kernel of all phenomenal beings, so matter is\nthe substance which remains after all the accidents have been taken away.\nAs the will is that which is absolutely indestructible in all existence,\nso matter is that which is imperishable in time and permanent through all\nchanges. That matter for itself, thus separated from form, cannot be\nperceived or presented in imagination depends upon the fact that in\nitself, and as the pure substantiality of bodies, it is really the _will_\nitself. But the will cannot be apprehended objectively, or perceived in\nitself, but only under all the conditions of the _idea_, and therefore\nonly as _phenomenon_. Under these conditions, however, it exhibits itself\nat once as body, _i.e._, as matter clothed in form and quality. But form\nis conditioned by space, and quality or power of acting by causality; thus\nboth depend upon the functions of the intellect. Matter without them would\njust be the thing in itself, _i.e._, the will itself. Therefore, as has\nbeen said, Plotinus and Giordano Bruno could only be brought by a\ncompletely objective path to the assertion that matter in and for itself\nis without extension, consequently without spatial properties,\nconsequently incorporeal.\n\nBecause, then, matter is the visibility of the will, and every force in\nitself is will, no force can appear without a material substratum, and\nconversely no body can be without forces dwelling in it which constitute\nits quality. Therefore a body is the union of matter and form which is\ncalled substance (Stoff). Force and substance are inseparable because at\nbottom they are one; for, as Kant has shown, matter itself is given us\nonly as the union of two forces, the force of expansion and that of\nattraction. Thus there is no opposition between force and substance,\nrather they are precisely one.\n\nLed by the course of our consideration to this standpoint, and having\nattained to this metaphysical view of matter, we will confess without\nreluctance that the temporal _origin_ of forms, shapes, or species cannot\nreasonably be sought elsewhere than in matter. Some time or other they\nmust have come forth from it, just because it is the mere _visibility of\nthe will_ which constitutes the inner nature of all phenomena. In that the\nwill manifests itself, _i.e._, presents itself _objectively_ to the\nintellect, matter, as its visibility, assumes _form_ by means of the\nfunctions of the intellect. Hence the Schoolmen said: \u201c_Materia appetit\nformam_.\u201d That such was the origin of all forms of life cannot be doubted:\nwe cannot even conceive it otherwise. Whether, however, now, since the\npaths to the perpetuation of the forms stand open, and are secured and\nsustained by nature with boundless care and jealousy, _generatio \u0153quivoca_\nstill takes place, can only be decided by experience; especially since the\nsaying, _Natura nihil facit frustra_, might, with reference to the paths\nof regular propagation, be used as a valid argument against it. Yet in\nspite of the most recent objections to it, I hold that at very low grades\n_generatio \u0153quivoca_ is very probable, and primarily indeed in the case of\nentozoa and epizoa, particularly such as appear in consequence of special\ncachexia of the animal organism. For the conditions of their life only\nappear exceptionally; consequently their species cannot propagate itself\nin the regular manner, and therefore has always to arise anew whenever\nopportunity offers. Therefore as soon as the conditions of life of epizoa\nhave appeared in consequence of certain chronic diseases, or cachexia, and\nin accordance with them, _pediculus capitis_ or _pubis_ or _corporis_\nappears entirely of itself, and without any egg; and this notwithstanding\nthe complex structure of these insects, for the putrefaction of a living\nanimal body affords material for higher productions than that of hay in\nwater, which only produces infusoria. Or is it thought more likely that\nthe eggs of the epizoa are constantly floating about in the air in\nexpectation? (Fearful to think of!) Let us rather remember the disease of\nphthiriasis, which occurs even now. An analogous case takes place when\nthrough special circumstances the conditions of life appear of a species\nwhich up till then was foreign to that _place_. Thus August St. Hilaire\nsaw in Brazil, after the burning of a primitive forest, as soon as ever\nthe ashes had cooled, a number of plants grow up out of them, the species\nof which was not to be found far and wide; and quite recently Admiral\nPetit\u2010Thouars informed the _Acad\u00e9mie des sciences_ that upon the growing\ncoral islands in Polynesia a soil gradually deposits itself which is now\ndry, now lies in water, and which vegetation soon takes possession of,\nbringing forth trees which are absolutely peculiar to these islands\n(_Comptes rendus_, 17th Jan. 1859, p. 147). Whenever putrefaction takes\nplace mould, fungi, and in liquids infusoria appear. The assumption now in\nfavour that spores and eggs of the innumerable species of all those kinds\nof animal life are everywhere floating in the air, and wait through long\nyears for a favourable opportunity, is more paradoxical than that of\n_generatio \u0153quivoca_. Putrefaction is the decomposition of an organised\nbody, first into its _more immediate_ chemical constituents. Since now\nthese are more or less the same in all living beings, the omnipresent will\nto live can possess itself of them, in order, in accordance with the\ncircumstances, to produce new existences from them; and these forming\nthemselves according to design, _i.e._, objectifying the volition of the\nwill at the time, solidify out of the chemical elements as the chicken out\nof the fluidity of the egg. When, however, this does not take place, the\nputrefying matter is resolved into its _ultimate_ constituent parts, which\nare the chemical elements, and now passes over again into the great course\nof nature. The war which has been waged for the last ten or fifteen years\nagainst _generatio \u0153quivoca_, with its premature shouts of victory, was\nthe prelude to the denial of the vital force, and related to it. Let no\none, however, be deceived by dogmatic assertions and brazen assurances\nthat the questions are decided, settled, and generally recognised. On the\ncontrary, the whole mechanical and atomistic view of nature is approaching\nits bankruptcy, and its defenders have to learn that something more is\nconcealed behind nature than action and reaction. The reality of\n_generatio \u0153quivoca_ and the folly of the extraordinary assumption that in\nthe atmosphere, everywhere and always, billions of seeds of all possible\nkinds of fungi, and eggs of all possible kinds of infusoria, are floating\nabout, till now one and then another by chance finds its suitable medium,\nhas quite recently (1859) been thoroughly and victoriously shown by\nPouchet before the French Academy, to the great vexation of the other\nmembers.\n\nOur wonder at the origin of forms in matter is at bottom like that of the\nsavage who looks for the first time in a mirror and marvels at his own\nimage which he sees there. For our own inner nature is the will, whose\nmere _visibility_ is matter. Yet matter never appears otherwise than with\nthe _visible_, _i.e._, under the outer shell of form and quality, and\ntherefore is never directly apprehended, but always merely added in\nthought as that which is identical in all things, under all differences of\nquality and form. On this account it is more a metaphysical than a\nphysical principle of explanation of things, and to make all existences\narise from it is really to explain them from something which is very\nmysterious; which all know it to be except those who confound attacking\nwith comprehending. In truth, the ultimate and exhaustive explanation of\nthings is by no means to be sought in matter, although certainly the\ntemporal origin both of unorganised forms and of organised beings is to be\nsought in it. Yet it seems that the origination of organised forms, the\nproduction of the species themselves, is almost as difficult for nature to\naccomplish as it is for us to comprehend. This is indicated by the\nentirely extravagant provision which nature always makes for maintaining\nthe species which once exist. Yet on the present surface of this planet\nthe will to live has gone through the scale of its objectification three\ntimes, quite independently of each other, in a different modulation, and\nalso with great difference of perfection and fulness. The old world,\nAmerica, and Australia have, it is well known, each their peculiar\nindependent fauna, entirely different from that of the other two. Upon\neach of these great continents the species are throughout different, but\nyet, because all three belong to the same planet, they have a thorough\nanalogy with each other running parallel through them; therefore the\n_genera_ are for the most part the same. In Australia this analogy can\nonly be very imperfectly followed because its fauna is very poor in\nmammalia, and contains neither beasts of prey nor apes. On the other hand,\nbetween the old world and America it is obvious, and in the following\nmanner. In mammals America always produces the inferior analogue, but in\nbirds and reptiles the better. Thus it has the advantage in the condor,\nthe macaw, the humming\u2010bird, and the largest batrachia and ophidia; but,\nfor example, instead of the elephant it has only the tapir, instead of the\nlion the puma, instead of the tiger the jaguar, instead of the camel the\nlama, and instead of apes proper only monkeys. Even from this last defect\nit may be concluded that in America nature was not able to rise to man;\nfor even from the nearest grade below man, the chimpanzee and the orang\u2010\noutang or pongo, the step to man was still an excessively great one.\nCorrespondingly we find that the three races of men which, both upon\nphysiological and linguistic grounds, are undoubtedly equally original,\nthe Caucasian, the Mongolian, and the Ethiopian, are only at home in the\nold world; while America, on the other hand, is peopled by a mixed or\nclimatically modified Mongolian race, which must have come over from Asia.\nOn the surface of the earth which immediately preceded the present surface\napes were reached here and there, but not men.\n\nFrom this standpoint of our consideration, which shows us matter as the\ndirect visibility of the will which manifests itself in all things, nay,\nindeed, for the merely physical investigation which follows the guidance\nof time and causality, lets it pass as the origin of things, we are easily\nled to the question whether even in philosophy we could not just as well\nstart from the objective as from the subjective side, and accordingly set\nup as the fundamental truth the proposition: \u201cThere is in general nothing\nbut matter and its indwelling forces.\u201d But, with regard to these\n\u201cindwelling forces\u201d here so easily used, we must remember that their\nassumption leads every explanation back to a completely incomprehensible\nmiracle, and then leaves it beside it, or rather leaves it to begin from\nit. For every definite, inexplicable force of nature which lies at the\nfoundation of the most different kinds of effects of an unorganised body,\nnot less than the vital force which manifests itself in every organised\nbody, is such an incomprehensible miracle, as I have fully explained in\nchap. 17, and have also shown that physics can never be set upon the\nthrone of metaphysics, just because it leaves quite untouched the\nassumption referred to and also many others; whereby from the beginning it\nrenounces all claim to give an ultimate explanation of things. I must\nfurther remind the reader here of the proof of the insufficiency of\nmaterialism, which is given towards the end of the first chapter, because,\nas was said there, it is the philosophy of the subject which forgets\nitself in its calculation. But all these truths rest upon the fact that\neverything _objective_, everything external, since it is always only\nsomething apprehended, something known, remains also always indirect and\nsecondary, therefore absolutely never can become the ultimate ground of\nexplanation of things or the starting\u2010point of philosophy. Philosophy\nnecessarily requires what is absolutely immediate for its starting\u2010point.\nBut clearly only that which is given in _self\u2010consciousness_ fulfils this\ncondition, that which is within, the _subjective_. And hence it is so\neminent a merit of Descartes that he first made philosophy start from\nself\u2010consciousness. Since then, upon this path, the genuine philosophers,\nespecially Locke, Berkeley, and Kant, have gone even further, each in his\nown manner, and in consequence of their investigations I was led to\nrecognise and make use, not of one, but of two completely different data\nof immediate knowledge in self\u2010consciousness, the idea and the will, by\nthe combined application of which one can go further in philosophy, in the\nsame proportion as in the case of an algebraical problem one can\naccomplish more if two known quantities are given than if only one is\ngiven.\n\nIn accordance with what has been said, the ineradicable falseness of\nmaterialism primarily consists in the fact that it starts from a _petitio\nprincipii_, which when more closely considered turns out indeed to be a\n\u03c0\u03c1\u03c9\u03c4\u03bf\u03bd \u03c6\u03b5\u03c5\u03b4\u03bf\u03c2. It starts from the assumption that matter is something\nabsolutely and unconditionally given, something existing independently of\nthe knowledge of the subject, thus really a thing in itself. It attributes\nto matter (and consequently also to its presuppositions time and space) an\n_absolute_ existence, _i.e._, an existence independent of the perceiving\nsubject; this is its fundamental error. Then, if it will go honestly to\nwork, it must leave the qualities inherent in the given materials, _i.e._,\nin the substances, together with the natural forces which manifest\nthemselves in these, and finally also the vital force, unexplained, as\nunfathomable _qualitates occult\u00e6_, and start from them; as physics and\nphysiology actually do, because they make no claim to be the ultimate\nexplanation of things. But just to avoid this, materialism\u2014at least as it\nhas hitherto appeared\u2014has not proceeded honestly. It denies all those\noriginal forces, for it pretends and seems to reduce them all, and\nultimately also the vital force, to the mere mechanical activity of\nmatter, thus to manifestations of impenetrability, form, cohesion,\nimpulsive power, inertia, gravity, &c., qualities which certainly have\nleast that is inexplicable in themselves, just because they partly depend\nupon what is known _a priori_, consequently on the forms of our own\nintellect, which are the principle of all comprehensibility. But the\nintellect as the condition of all objects, and consequently of the whole\nphenomenal world, is entirely ignored by materialism. Its plan is now to\nrefer everything qualitative to something merely quantitative, for it\nattributes the former to mere _form_ in opposition to _matter_ proper. To\nmatter it leaves, of the properly _empirical_ qualities, only gravity,\nbecause it already appears as something quantitative, the only measure of\nthe quantity of the matter. This path necessarily leads it to the fiction\nof atoms, which now become the material out of which it thinks to\nconstruct the mysterious manifestations of all original forces. But here\nit has really no longer to do with empirically _given_ matter, but with a\nmatter which is not to be found _in rerum natura_, but is rather a mere\nabstraction of that real matter, a matter which would absolutely have no\nother than those mechanical qualities which, with the exception of\ngravity, can be pretty well construed _a priori_, just because they depend\nupon the forms of space, time, and causality, and consequently upon our\nintellect; to this poor material, then, it finds itself reduced for the\nconstruction of its castle in the air.\n\nIn this way it inevitably becomes _atomism_; as happened to it already in\nits childhood in the hands of Leucippus and Democritus, and happens to it\nagain now that it has come to a second childhood through age; with the\nFrench because they have never known the Kantian philosophy, and with the\nGermans because they have forgotten it. And indeed it carries it further\nin this its second childhood than in its first. Not merely _solid_ bodies\nare supposed to consist of atoms, but liquids, water, air, gas, nay, even\nlight, which is supposed to be the undulations of a completely\nhypothetical and altogether unproved ether, consisting of atoms, the\ndifference of the rapidity of these undulations causing colours. This is\nan hypothesis which, like the earlier Newtonian seven\u2010colour theory,\nstarts from an analogy with music, entirely arbitrarily assumed, and then\nviolently carried out. One must really be credulous to an unheard\u2010of\ndegree to let oneself be persuaded that the innumerable different ether\nvibrations proceeding from the infinite multiplicity of coloured surfaces\nin this varied world could constantly, and each in its own time, run\nthrough and everywhere cross each other without ever disturbing each\nother, but should rather produce through such tumult and confusion the\nprofoundly peaceful aspect of illumined nature and art. _Credat Jud\u00e6us\nApella!_ Certainly the nature of light is to us a secret; but it is better\nto confess this than to bar the way of future knowledge by bad theories.\nThat light is something quite different from a mere mechanical movement,\nundulation, or vibration and tremor, indeed that it is material, is shown\nby its chemical effects, a beautiful series of which was recently laid\nbefore the _Acad\u00e9mie des sciences_ by Chevreul, who let sunlight act upon\ndifferent coloured materials. The most beautiful thing in these\nexperiments is, that a white roll of paper which has been exposed to the\nsunlight exhibits the same effects, nay, does so even after six months, if\nduring this time it has been secured in a firmly closed metal tube. Has,\nthen, the tremulation paused for six months, and does it now fall into\ntime again? (_Comptes rendus_ of 20th December 1858.) This whole\nhypothesis of vibrating ether atoms is not only a chimera, but equals in\nawkward crudeness the worst of Democritus, and yet is shameless enough, at\nthe present day, to profess to be an established fact, and has thus\nbrought it about that it is orthodoxly repeated by a thousand stupid\nscribblers of all kinds, who are devoid of all knowledge of such things,\nand is believed in as a gospel. But the doctrine of atoms in general goes\nstill further: it is soon a case of _Spartam, quam nactus es, orna_!\nDifferent perpetual motions are then ascribed to all the atoms, revolving,\nvibrating, &c., according to the office of each; in the same way every\natom has its atmosphere of ether, or something else, and whatever other\nsimilar fancies there may be. The fancies of Schelling\u2019s philosophy of\nnature and its disciples were for the most part ingenious, lofty, or at\nleast witty; but these, on the contrary, are clumsy, insipid, paltry, and\nawkward, the production of minds which, in the first place, are unable to\nthink any other reality than a fabulous, qualityless matter, which is also\nan absolute object, _i.e._, an object without a subject; and secondly can\nthink of no other activity than motion and impact: these two alone are\ncomprehensible to them, and that everything runs back to these is their _a\npriori_ assumption; for these are their _thing in itself_. To attain this\nend the vital force is reduced to chemical forces (which are insidiously\nand unjustifiably called molecular forces), and all processes of\nunorganised nature to mechanism, _i.e._, to action and reaction. And thus\nat last the whole world and everything in it becomes merely a piece of\nmechanical ingenuity, like the toys worked by levers, wheels, and sand,\nwhich represent a mine or the work on a farm. The source of the evil is,\nthat through the amount of hand\u2010work which experimenting requires the\nhead\u2010work of thinking has been allowed to get out of practice. The\ncrucible and the voltaic pile are supposed to assume its functions; hence\nalso the profound abhorrence of all philosophy.\n\nBut the matter might be put in this way. One might say that materialism,\nas it has hitherto appeared, has only failed because it did not adequately\n_know_ the matter out of which it thought to construct the world, and\ntherefore was dealing, not with matter itself, but with a propertyless\nsubstitute for it. If, on the contrary, instead of this, it had taken the\nactual and _empirically_ given matter (_i.e._, material substance, or\nrather substances), endowed as it is with all physical, chemical,\nelectrical properties, and also with the power of spontaneously producing\nlife out of itself, thus the true _mater rerum_, from the obscurity of\nwhose womb all phenomena and forms come forth, to fall back into it some\ntime again; from this, _i.e._, from matter fully comprehended and\nexhaustively known, a world might have been constructed of which\nmaterialism would not need to be ashamed. Quite true: only the trick would\nthen consist in this, that the _Qu\u00e6sita_ had been placed in the _Data_,\nfor professedly what was taken as given, and made the starting\u2010point of\nthe deduction, was mere matter, but really it included all the mysterious\nforces of nature which cling to it, or more correctly, by means of it\nbecome visible to us, much the same as if under the name of the dish we\nunderstand what lies upon it. For in fact, for our knowledge, matter is\nreally merely the _vehicle_ of the qualities and natural forces, which\nappear as its accidents, and just because I have traced these back to the\nwill I call matter the mere _visibility of the will_. Stripped of all\nthese qualities, matter remains behind as that which is without qualities,\nthe _caput mortuum_ of nature, out of which nothing can honestly be made.\nIf, on the contrary, in the manner referred to, one leaves it all these\nproperties, one is guilty of a concealed _petitio principii_, for one has\nassumed the _Qu\u00e6sita_ beforehand as _Data_. But what is accomplished with\n_this_ will no longer be a proper _materialism_, but merely _naturalism_,\n_i.e._, an absolute system of _physics_, which, as was shown in chap. 17\nalready referred to, can never assume and fill the place of metaphysics,\njust because it only begins after so many assumptions, thus never\nundertakes to explain things from the foundation. Mere naturalism is\ntherefore essentially based simply upon _qualitates occult\u00e6_, which one\ncan never get beyond except, as I have done, by calling in the aid of the\n_subjective_ source of knowledge, which then certainly leads to the long\nand toilsome round\u2010about path of metaphysics, for it presupposes the\ncomplete analysis of self\u2010consciousness and of the intellect and will\ngiven in it. However, the starting from what is _objective_, at the\nfoundation of which lies _external perception_, so distinct and\ncomprehensible, is a path so natural and which presents itself of its own\naccord to man, that _naturalism_, and consequently, because this cannot\nsatisfy as it is not exhaustive, _materialism_, are systems to which the\nspeculative reason must necessarily have come, nay, must have come first\nof all. Therefore at the very beginning of the history of philosophy we\nmeet naturalism, in the systems of the Ionic philosophers, and then\nmaterialism in the teaching of Leucippus and Democritus, and also later we\nsee them ever appear anew from time to time.\n\n\n\n\nChapter XXV. Transcendent Considerations Concerning The Will As Thing In\nItself.\n\n\nEven the merely empirical consideration of nature recognises a constant\ntransition from the simplest and most necessary manifestation of a\nuniversal force of nature up to the life and consciousness of man himself,\nthrough gentle gradations, and with only relative, and for the most part\nfluctuating, limits. Reflection, following this view, and penetrating\nsomewhat more deeply into it, will soon be led to the conviction that in\nall these phenomena, the inner nature, that which manifests itself, that\nwhich appears, is one and the same, which comes forth ever more\ndistinctly; and accordingly that what exhibits itself in a million forms\nof infinite diversity, and so carries on the most varied and the strangest\nplay without beginning or end, this is one being which is so closely\ndisguised behind all these masks that it does not even recognise itself,\nand therefore often treats itself roughly. Thus the great doctrine of the\n\u1f11\u03bd \u03ba\u03b1\u03b9 \u03c0\u03b1\u03bd early appeared both in the east and in the west, and, in spite\nof all contradiction, has asserted itself, or at least constantly revived.\nWe, however, have now entered even deeper into the secret, since by what\nhas already been said we have been led to the insight that when in any\nphenomenon a _knowing consciousness_ is added to that inner being which\nlies at the foundation of all phenomena, a consciousness which when\ndirected inwardly becomes _self\u2010consciousness_, then that inner being\npresents itself to this self\u2010consciousness as that which is so familiar\nand so mysterious, and is denoted by the word _will_. Accordingly we have\ncalled that universal fundamental nature of all phenomena _the will_,\nafter that manifestation in which it unveils itself to us most fully; and\nby this word nothing is further from our intention than to denote an\nunknown _x_; but, on the contrary, we denote that which at least on one\nside is infinitely better known and more intimate than anything else.\n\nLet us now call to mind a truth, the fullest and most thorough proof of\nwhich will be found in my prize essay on the freedom of the will\u2014the truth\nthat on account of the absolutely universal validity of the law of\ncausality, the conduct or the action of all existences in this world is\nalways strictly _necessitated_ by the causes which in each case call it\nforth. And in this respect it makes no difference whether such an action\nhas been occasioned by causes in the strictest sense of the word, or by\nstimuli, or finally by motives, for these differences refer only to the\ngrade of the susceptibility of the different kinds of existences. On this\npoint we must entertain no illusion: the law of causality knows no\nexception; but everything, from the movement of a mote in a sunbeam to the\nmost deeply considered action of man, is subject to it with equal\nstrictness. Therefore, in the whole course of the world, neither could a\nmote in a sunbeam describe any other line in its flight than it has\ndescribed, nor a man act any other way than he has acted; and no truth is\nmore certain than this, that all that happens, be it small or great,\nhappens with absolute _necessity_. Consequently, at every given moment of\ntime, the whole condition of all things is firmly and accurately\ndetermined by the condition which has just preceded it, and so is it with\nthe stream of time back to infinity and on to infinity. Thus the course of\nthe world is like that of a clock after it has been put together and wound\nup; thus from this incontestable point of view it is a mere machine, the\naim of which we cannot see. Even if, quite without justification, nay, at\nbottom, in spite of all conceivability and its conformity to law, one\nshould assume a first beginning, nothing would thereby be essentially\nchanged. For the arbitrarily assumed first condition of things would at\nits origin have irrevocably determined and fixed, both as a whole and down\nto the smallest detail, the state immediately following it; this state,\nagain, would have determined the one succeeding it, and so on _per secula\nseculorum_, for the chain of causality, with its absolute strictness\u2014this\nbrazen bond of necessity and fate\u2014introduces every phenomenon irrevocably\nand unalterably, just as it is. The difference merely amounts to this,\nthat in the case of the one assumption we would have before us a piece of\nclockwork which had once been wound up, but in the case of the other a\nperpetual motion; the necessity of the course, on the other hand, would\nremain the same. In the prize essay already referred to I have irrefutably\nproved that the action of man can make no exception here, for I showed how\nit constantly proceeds with strict necessity from two factors\u2014his\ncharacter and the motives which come to him. The character is inborn and\nunalterable; the motives are introduced with necessity under the guidance\nof causality by the strictly determined course of the world.\n\nAccordingly then, from one point of view, which we certainly cannot\nabandon, because it is established by the objective laws of the world,\nwhich are _a priori_ valid, the world, with all that is in it, appears as\nan aimless, and therefore incomprehensible, play of an eternal necessity,\nan inscrutable and inexorable \u0391\u03bd\u03b1\u03b3\u03ba\u03b7. Now, what is objectionable, nay,\nrevolting, in this inevitable and irrefutable view of the world cannot be\nthoroughly done away with by any assumption except this, that as in one\naspect every being in the world is a phenomenon, and necessarily\ndetermined by the laws of the phenomenon, in another aspect it is in\nitself _will_, and indeed absolutely _free will_, for necessity only\narises through the forms which belong entirely to the phenomenon, through\nthe principle of sufficient reason in its different modes. Such a will,\nthen, must be self\u2010dependent, for, as free, _i.e._, as a thing in itself,\nand therefore not subject to the principle of sufficient reason, it cannot\ndepend upon another in its being and nature any more than in its conduct\nand action. By this assumption alone will as much _freedom_ be supposed as\nis needed to counterbalance the inevitable strict _necessity_ which\ngoverns the course of the world. Accordingly one has really only the\nchoice either of seeing that the world is a mere machine which runs on of\nnecessity, or of recognising a free will as its inner being whose\nmanifestation is not directly the action but primarily the _existence and\nnature_ of things. This freedom is therefore transcendental, and consists\nwith empirical necessity, in the same way as the transcendental ideality\nof phenomena consists with their empirical reality. That only under this\nassumption the action of a man, in spite of the necessity with which it\nproceeds from his character and the motives, is yet _his own_ I have shown\nin my prize essay on the freedom of the will; with this, however, self\u2010\ndependency is attributed to his nature. The same relation holds good of\nall things in the world. The strictest _necessity_, carried out honestly\nwith rigid consistency, and the most perfect _freedom_, rising to\nomnipotence, had to appear at once and together in philosophy; but,\nwithout doing violence to truth, this could only take place by placing the\nwhole _necessity_ in the _acting and doing_ (_Operari_), and the whole\n_freedom_ in the _being and nature_ (_Esse_). Thereby a riddle is solved\nwhich is as old as the world, simply because it has hitherto always been\nheld upside down and the freedom persistently sought in the _Operari_, the\nnecessity in the _Esse_. I, on the contrary, say: Every being without\nexception _acts_ with strict necessity, but it _exists_ and is what it is\nby virtue of its _freedom_. Thus with me freedom and necessity are to be\nmet with neither more nor less than in any earlier system; although now\none and now the other must be conspicuous according as one takes offence\nthat _will_ is attributed to processes of nature which hitherto were\nexplained from necessity, or that the same strict necessity is recognised\nin motivation as in mechanical causality. The two have merely changed\nplaces: freedom has been transferred to the _Esse_, and necessity limited\nto the _Operari_.\n\nIn short, _Determinism_ stands firm. For fifteen hundred years men have\nwearied themselves in vain to shake it, influenced by certain crotchets,\nwhich are well known, but dare scarcely yet be called by their name. Yet\nin accordance with it the world becomes a mere puppet\u2010show, drawn by wires\n(motives), without it being even possible to understand for whose\namusement. If the piece has a plan, then fate is the director; if it has\nnone, then blind necessity. There is no other deliverance from this\nabsurdity than the knowledge that the _being and nature_ of all things is\nthe manifestation of a really _free will_, which knows itself in them; for\ntheir _doing and acting_ cannot be delivered from necessity. To save\nfreedom from fate and chance, it had to be transferred from the action to\nthe existence.\n\nAs now necessity only affects the phenomenon, not the thing in itself,\n_i.e._, the true nature of the world, so also does _multiplicity_. This is\nsufficiently explained in \u00a7 25 of the first volume. I have only to add\nhere one remark in confirmation and illustration of this truth.\n\nEvery one knows only _one_ being quite immediately\u2014his own will in self\u2010\nconsciousness. Everything else he knows only indirectly, and then judges\nit by analogy with this; a process which he carries further in proportion\nto the grade of his reflective powers. Even this ultimately springs from\nthe fact that there really is _only one being_; the illusion of\nmultiplicity (_Maja_), which proceeds from the forms of external,\nobjective comprehension, could not penetrate to inner, simple\nconsciousness; therefore this always finds before it only one being.\n\nIf we consider the perfection of the works of nature, which can never be\nsufficiently admired, and which even in the lowest and smallest organisms,\nfor example, in the fertilising parts of plants or in the internal\nconstruction of insects, is carried out with as infinite care and\nunwearied labour as if each work of nature had been its only one, upon\nwhich it was therefore able to expend all its art and power; if we yet\nfind this repeated an infinite number of times in each one of innumerable\nindividuals of every kind, and not less carefully worked out in that one\nwhose dwelling\u2010place is the most lonely, neglected spot, to which, till\nthen, no eye had penetrated; if we now follow the combination of the parts\nof every organism as far as we can, and yet never come upon one part which\nis quite simple, and therefore ultimate, not to speak of one which is\ninorganic; if, finally, we lose ourselves in calculating the design of all\nthose parts of the organism for the maintenance of the whole by virtue of\nwhich every living thing is complete in and for itself; if we consider at\nthe same time that each of these masterpieces, itself of short duration,\nhas already been produced anew an innumerable number of times, and yet\nevery example of a species, every insect, every flower, every leaf, still\nappears just as carefully perfected as was the first of its kind; thus\nthat nature by no means wearies and begins to bungle, but, with equally\npatient master\u2010hand, perfects the last like the first: then we become\nconscious, first of all, that all human art is completely different, not\nmerely in degree, but in kind, from the works of nature; and, next, that\nthe working force, the _natura naturans_, in each of its innumerable\nworks, in the least as in the greatest, in the last as in the first, _is\nimmediately present whole and undivided_, from which it follows that, as\nsuch and in itself, it knows nothing of space and time. If we further\nreflect that the production of these hyperboles of all works of art costs\nnature absolutely nothing, so that, with inconceivable prodigality, she\ncreates millions of organisms which never attain to maturity, and without\nsparing exposes every living thing to a thousand accidents, yet, on the\nother hand, if favoured by chance or directed by human purpose, readily\naffords millions of examples of a species of which hitherto there was only\none, so that millions cost her no more than one; this also leads us to see\nthat the multiplicity of things has its root in the nature of the\nknowledge of the subject, but is foreign to the thing in itself, _i.e._,\nto the inner primary force which shows itself in things; that consequently\nspace and time, upon which the possibility of all multiplicity depends,\nare mere forms of our perception; nay, that even that whole inconceivable\ningenuity of structure associated with the reckless prodigality of the\nworks upon which it has been expended ultimately springs simply from the\nway in which things are apprehended by us; for when the simple and\nindivisible original effort of the will exhibits itself as object in our\ncerebral knowledge, it must appear as an ingenious combination of separate\nparts, as means and ends of each other, accomplished with wonderful\ncompleteness.\n\nThe _unity of that will_, here referred to, which lies beyond the\nphenomenon, and in which we have recognised the inner nature of the\nphenomenal world, is a metaphysical unity, and consequently transcends the\nknowledge of it, _i.e._, does not depend upon the functions of our\nintellect, and therefore can not really be comprehended by it. Hence it\narises that it opens to the consideration an abyss so profound that it\nadmits of no thoroughly clear and systematically connected insight, but\ngrants us only isolated glances, which enable us to recognise this unity\nin this and that relation of things, now in the subjective, now in the\nobjective sphere, whereby, however, new problems are again raised, all of\nwhich I will not engage to solve, but rather appeal here to the words _est\nquadam prodire tenus_, more concerned to set up nothing false or\narbitrarily invented than to give a thorough account of all;\u2014at the risk\nof giving here only a fragmentary exposition.\n\nIf we call up to our minds and distinctly go through in thought the\nexceedingly acute theory of the origin of the planetary system, first put\nforth by Kant and later by Laplace, a theory of which it is scarcely\npossible to doubt the correctness, we see the lowest, crudest, and\nblindest forces of nature bound to the most rigid conformity to law, by\nmeans of their conflict for one and the same given matter, and the\naccidental results brought about by this produce the framework of the\nworld, thus of the designedly prepared future dwelling\u2010place of\ninnumerable living beings, as a system of order and harmony, at which we\nare the more astonished the more distinctly and accurately we come to\nunderstand it. For example, if we see that every planet, with its present\nvelocity, can only maintain itself exactly where it actually has its\nplace, because if it were brought nearer to the sun it would necessarily\nfall into it, or if placed further from it would necessarily fly away from\nit; how, conversely, if we take the place as given, it can only remain\nthere with its present velocity and no other, because if it went faster it\nwould necessarily fly away from the sun, and if it went slower it would\nnecessarily fall into it; that thus only one definite place is suitable to\neach definite velocity of a planet; and if we now see this solved by the\nfact that the same physical, necessary, and blindly acting cause which\nappointed it its place, at the same time and just by doing so, imparted to\nit exactly the only velocity suitable for this place, in consequence of\nthe law of nature that a revolving body increases its velocity in\nproportion as its revolution becomes smaller; and, moreover, if finally we\nunderstand how endless permanence is assured to the whole system, by the\nfact that all the mutual disturbances of the course of the planets which\nunavoidably enter, must adjust themselves in time; how then it is just the\nirrationality of the periods of revolution of Jupiter and Saturn to each\nother that prevents their respective perturbations from repeating\nthemselves at one place, whereby they would become dangerous, and brings\nit about that, appearing seldom and always at a different place, they must\nsublate themselves again, like dissonances in music which are again\nresolved into harmony. By means of such considerations we recognise a\ndesign and perfection, such as could only have been brought about by the\nfreest absolute will directed by the most penetrating understanding and\nthe most acute calculation. And yet, under the guidance of that cosmogony\nof Laplace, so well thought out and so accurately calculated, we cannot\nprevent ourselves from seeing that perfectly blind forces of nature,\nacting according to unalterable natural laws, through their conflict and\naimless play among themselves, could produce nothing else but this very\nframework of the world, which is equal to the work of an extraordinarily\nenhanced power of combination. Instead now, after the manner of\nAnaxagoras, of dragging in the aid of an _intelligence_ known to us only\nfrom animal nature, and adapted only to its aims, an intelligence which,\ncoming from without, cunningly made use of the existing forces of nature\nand their laws in order to carry out its ends, which are foreign to\nthese,\u2014we recognise in these lowest forces of nature themselves that same,\none will, which indeed first manifests itself in them, and already in this\nmanifestation striving after its goal, through its original laws\nthemselves works towards its final end, to which therefore all that\nhappens according to blind laws of nature must minister and correspond.\nAnd this indeed cannot be otherwise, because everything material is\nnothing but just the phenomenal appearance, the visibility, the\nobjectivity of the will to live which is one. Thus even the lowest forces\nof nature themselves are animated by that same will, which afterwards, in\nthe individual beings provided with intelligence, marvels at its own work,\nas the somnambulist wonders in the morning at what he has done in his\nsleep; or, more accurately, which is astonished at its own form which it\nbeholds in the mirror. This unity which is here proved of the accidental\nwith the intentional, of the necessary with the free, on account of which\nthe blindest chances, which, however, rest upon universal laws of nature,\nare as it were the keys upon which the world\u2010spirit plays its melodies so\nfull of significance,\u2014this unity, I say, is, as has already been remarked,\nan abyss in the investigation into which even philosophy can throw no full\nlight, but only a glimmer.\n\nBut I now turn to a _subjective_ consideration belonging to this place, to\nwhich, however, I am able to give still less distinctness than to the\nobjective consideration which has just been set forth; for I shall only be\nable to express it by images and similes. Why is our consciousness\nbrighter and more distinct the further it extends towards without, so that\nits greatest clearness lies in sense perception, which already half\nbelongs to things outside us,\u2014and, on the other hand, grows dimmer as we\ngo in, and leads, if followed to its inmost recesses, to a darkness in\nwhich all knowledge ceases? Because, I say, consciousness presupposes\n_individuality_; but this belongs to the mere phenomenon, for it is\nconditioned by the forms of the phenomenon, space and time, as\nmultiplicity of the similar. Our inner nature, on the other hand, has its\nroot in that which is no longer phenomenon, but thing in itself, to which,\ntherefore, the forms of the phenomenon do not extend; and thus the chief\nconditions of individuality are wanting, and with these the distinctness\nof consciousness falls off. In this root of existence the difference of\nbeings ceases, like that of the radii of a sphere in the centre; and as in\nthe sphere the surface is produced by the radii ending and breaking off,\nso consciousness is only possible where the true inner being runs out into\nthe phenomenon, through whose forms the separate individuality becomes\npossible upon which consciousness depends, which is just on that account\nconfined to phenomena. Therefore all that is distinct and thoroughly\ncomprehensible in our consciousness always lies without upon this surface\nof the sphere. Whenever, on the contrary, we withdraw entirely from this,\nconsciousness forsakes us,\u2014in sleep, in death, to a certain extent also in\nmagnetic or magic influences; for these all lead through the centre. But\njust because distinct consciousness, being confined to the surface of the\nsphere, is not directed towards the centre, it recognises other\nindividuals certainly as of the same kind, but not as identical, which yet\nin themselves they are. Immortality of the individual might be compared to\na point of the surface flying off at a tangent. But immortality, by virtue\nof the eternal nature of the inner being of the whole phenomenon, may be\ncompared to the return of that point, on the radius, to the centre, of\nwhich the whole surface is just the extension. The will as the thing in\nitself is whole and undivided in every being, as the centre is an integral\npart of every radius; while the peripherical end of this radius is in the\nmost rapid revolution, with the surface, which represents time and its\ncontent, the other end, at the centre, which represents eternity, remains\nin the profoundest peace, because the centre is the point of which the\nrising half is not different from the sinking. Therefore in the Bhagavad\u2010\ngita it is said: \u201c_Haud distributum animantibus, et quasi distributum\ntamen insidens, animantiumque sustentaculum id cognoscendum, edax et\nrursus genitale_\u201d (Lect. 13, 16 vers. Schlegel). Certainly we fall here\ninto mystical and figurative language, but it is the only language in\nwhich anything can be said on this entirely transcendent theme. So this\nsimile also may pass. The human race may be imagined as an _animal\ncompositum_, a form of life of which many polypi, especially those which\nswim, such as _Veretillum_, _Funiculina_, and others, afford examples. As\nin these the head isolates each individual animal, and the lower part,\nwith the common stomach, combines them all in the unity of one life\nprocess, so the brain with its consciousness isolates the human\nindividual, while the unconscious part, the vegetative life with its\nganglion system, into which in sleep the brain\u2010consciousness disappears,\nlike a lotus which nightly sinks in the flood, is a common life of all, by\nmeans of which in exceptional cases they can even communicate, as, for\nexample, occurs when dreams communicate themselves directly, the thoughts\nof the mesmeriser pass into the somnambulist, and finally also in the\nmagnetic or generally magical influence proceeding from intentional\nwilling. Such an influence, if it occurs, is _toto genere_ different from\nevery other on account of the _influxus physicus_ which takes place, for\nit is really an _actio in distans_ which the will, certainly proceeding\nfrom the individual, yet performs in its metaphysical quality as the\nomnipresent substratum of the whole of nature. One might also say that as\nin the _generatio \u00e6quivoca_ there sometimes and as an exception appears a\nweak residue of the original _creative power_ of the will, which in the\nexisting forms of nature has already done its work and is extinguished, so\nthere may be, exceptionally, acting in these magical influences, as it\nwere, a surplus of its original _omnipotence_, which completes its work\nand spends itself in the construction and maintenance of the organisms. I\nhave spoken fully of this magical property of the will in \u201cThe Will in\nNature,\u201d and I gladly omit here discussions which have to appeal to\nuncertain facts, which yet cannot be altogether ignored or denied.\n\n\n\n\nChapter XXVI.(4) On Teleology.\n\n\nThe universal teleology or design of organised nature relative to the\ncontinuance of every existing being, together with the adaptation of\norganised to unorganised nature, cannot without violence enter into the\nconnection of any philosophical system except that one which makes a\n_will_ the basis of the existence of every natural being; a will which\naccordingly expresses its nature and tendency not merely in the actions,\nbut already in the _form_ of the phenomenal organism. In the preceding\nchapter I have merely indicated the account which our system of thought\ngives of this subject, since I have already expounded it in the passage of\nthe first volume referred to below, and with special clearness and fulness\nin \u201cThe Will in Nature,\u201d under the rubric \u201cComparative Anatomy.\u201d\n\nThe astounding amazement which is wont to take possession of us when we\nconsider the endless design displayed in the construction of organised\nbeings ultimately rests upon the certainly natural but yet false\nassumption that that _adaptation_ of the parts to each other, to the whole\nof the organism and to its aims in the external world, as we comprehend it\nand judge of it by means of _knowledge_, thus upon the path of the _idea_,\nhas also come into being upon the same path; thus that as it exists _for_\nthe intellect, it was also brought about _by_ the intellect. We certainly\ncan only bring about something regular and conforming to law, such, for\nexample, as every crystal is, under the guidance of the law and the rule;\nand in the same way, we can only bring about something designed under the\nguidance of the conception of the end; but we are by no means justified in\nimputing this limitation of ours to nature, which is itself prior to all\nintellect, and whose action is entirely different in kind from ours, as\nwas said in the preceding chapter. It accomplishes that which appears so\ndesigned and planned without reflection and without conception of an end,\nbecause without idea, which is of quite secondary origin. Let us first\nconsider what is merely according to rule, not yet adapted to ends. The\nsix equal radii of a snowflake, separating at equal angles, are measured\nbeforehand by no knowledge; but it is the simple tendency of the original\nwill, which so exhibits itself to knowledge when knowledge appears. As now\nhere the will brings about the regular figure without mathematics, so also\nwithout physiology does it bring about the form which is organised and\nfurnished with organs evidently adapted to special ends. The regular form\nin space only exists for the perception, the perceptive form of which is\nspace; so the design of the organism only exists for the knowing reason,\nthe reflection of which is bound to the conceptions of end and means. If\ndirect insight into the working of nature was possible for us, we would\nnecessarily recognise that the wonder excited by teleology referred to\nabove is analogous to that which that savage referred to by Kant in his\nexplanation of the ludicrous felt when he saw the froth irresistibly\nfoaming out of a bottle of beer which had just been opened, and expressed\nhis wonder not that it should come out, but that any one had ever been\nable to get it in; for we also assume that the teleology of natural\nproductions has been put in the same as it comes out for us. Therefore our\nastonishment at design may likewise be compared to that which the first\nproductions of the art of printing excited in those who considered them\nunder the supposition that they were works of the pen, and therefore had\nto resort to the assumption of the assistance of a devil in order to\nexplain them. For, let it be said again, it is our intellect which by\nmeans of its own forms, space, time, and causality, apprehends as object\nthe act of will, in itself metaphysical and indivisible, which exhibits\nitself in the phenomenon of an animal,\u2014it is our intellect which first\nproduces the multiplicity and diversity of the parts, and is then struck\nwith amazement at their perfect agreement and conspiring together, which\nproceeds from the original unity; whereby then, in a certain sense, it\nmarvels at its own work.\n\nIf we give ourselves up to the contemplation of the indescribably and\ninfinitely ingenious construction of any animal, even if it were only the\ncommonest insect, lose ourselves in admiration of it, and it now occurs to\nus that nature recklessly exposes even this exceedingly ingenious and\nhighly complicated organism daily and by thousands to destruction by\naccident, animal rapacity, and human wantonness, this wild prodigality\nfills us with amazement; but our amazement is based upon an ambiguity of\nthe conceptions, for we have in our minds the human work of art which is\naccomplished by the help of the intellect and by overcoming a foreign and\nresisting material, and therefore certainly costs much trouble. Nature\u2019s\nworks, on the contrary, however ingenious they may be, cost her absolutely\nno trouble; for here the will to work is already the work itself, since,\nas has already been said, the organism is merely the visibility of the\nwill which is here present, brought about in the brain.\n\nIn consequence of the nature of organised beings which has been set forth,\nteleology, as the assumption of the adaptation of every part to its end,\nis a perfectly safe guide in considering the whole of organised nature; on\nthe other hand, in a metaphysical regard, for the explanation of nature\nbeyond the possibility of experience, it must only be regarded as valid in\na secondary and subsidiary manner for the confirmation of principles of\nexplanation which are otherwise established: for here it belongs to the\nproblems which have to be given account of. Accordingly, if in some animal\na part is found of which we do not see any use, we must never venture the\nconjecture that nature has produced it aimlessly, perhaps trifling, or out\nof mere caprice. Certainly it is possible to conceive something of this\nkind under the Anaxagorean assumption that the disposition of nature has\nbeen brought about by means of an ordering understanding, which, as such,\nobeys a foreign will; but not under the assumption that the true inner\nbeing (_i.e._, outside of our idea) of every organism is simply and solely\n_its own will_; for then the existence of every part is conditioned by the\ncircumstance that in some way it serves the will which here lies at its\nfoundation, expresses and realises some tendency of it, and consequently\nin some way contributes to the maintenance of this organism. For apart\nfrom _the will which manifests itself in it_, and the conditions of the\nexternal world under which this has voluntarily undertaken to live, for\nthe conflict with which its whole form and disposition is already adapted,\nnothing can have influenced it and determined its form and parts, thus no\narbitrary power, no caprice. On this account everything in it must be\ndesigned; and therefore final causes (_caus\u00e6 finales_) are the clue to the\nunderstanding of organised nature, as efficient causes (_caus\u00e6\nefficientes_) are the clue to the understanding of unorganised nature. It\ndepends upon this, that if in anatomy or zoology, we cannot find the end\nor aim of an existing part, our understanding receives a shock similar to\nthat which it receives in physics from an effect whose cause remains\nconcealed; and as we assume the latter as necessary, so also we assume the\nformer, and therefore go on searching for it, however long we may already\nhave done so in vain. This is, for example, the case with the spleen, as\nto the use of which men never cease inventing hypotheses, till some day\none shall have proved itself correct. So is it also with the large spiral\u2010\nformed teeth of the babyroussa, the horn\u2010shaped excrescences of certain\ncaterpillars, and more of the like. Negative cases are also judged by us\naccording to the same rule; for example, that in a class which, as a\nwhole, is so uniform as that of lizards, so important a part as the\nbladder is present in many species, while it is wanting in others;\nsimilarly that dolphins and certain cetacea related to them are entirely\nwithout olfactory nerves, while the rest of the cetacea and even fishes\nhave them: there must be a reason which determines this.\n\nIndividual real exceptions to this universal law of design in organised\nnature have indeed been discovered, and with great surprise; but in these\ncases that _exceptio firmat regulam_ applies, since they can be accounted\nfor upon other grounds. Such, for example, is the fact that the tadpoles\nof the pipa toad have tails and gills, although, unlike all other\ntadpoles, they do not swim, but await their metamorphosis on the back of\nthe mother; that the male kangaroo has the marsupial bones which in the\nfemale carry the pouch; that male mammals have breasts; that the _Mus\ntyphlus_, a rat, has eyes, although very small ones, without any opening\nfor them in the outer skin, which thus covers them, clothed with hair; and\nthat the moles of the Apennines, and also two fishes\u2014_Murena c\u0153cilia_ and\n_Gastrobrauchus c\u0153cus_\u2014are in the same case; of like kind is the _Proteus\nanguinus_. These rare and surprising exceptions to the rule of nature,\nwhich is otherwise so rigid, these contradictions with itself into which\nit falls, we must explain from the inner connection which the different\nkinds of phenomena have with each other, by virtue of the unity of that\nwhich manifests itself in them, and in consequence of which nature must\nhint at some thing in one, simply because another of the same type\nactually has it. Accordingly the male animal has a rudimentary form of an\norgan which is actually present in the female. As now here the difference\nof the _sex_ cannot abolish the type of the _species_, so also the type of\na whole order\u2014for example, of the batrachia\u2014asserts itself even where in\none particular species (pipa) one of its determinations is superfluous.\nStill less can nature allow a determination (eyes) which belongs to the\ntype of a whole division (Vertebrata) to vanish entirely without a trace,\neven if it is wanting in some particular species (_Mus typhlus_) as\nsuperfluous; but here also it must at least indicate in a rudimentary\nmanner what it carries out in all the others.\n\nEven from this point of view it is to some extent possible to see upon\nwhat depends that _homology_ in the skeleton primarily of mammals, and in\na wider sense of all vertebrates, which has been so fully explained,\nespecially by Richard Owen in his \u201c_Ost\u00e9ologie compar\u00e9e_,\u201d and on account\nof which, for example, all mammals have seven cervical vertebr\u00e6, every\nbone of the human hand and arm finds its analogue in the fin of the whale,\nthe skull of the bird in the egg has exactly as many bones as that of the\nhuman f\u0153tus, &c. All this points to a principle which is independent of\nteleology, but which is yet the foundation upon which teleology builds, or\nthe already given material for its works, and just that which Geoffroy St.\nHilaire has explained as the \u201canatomical element.\u201d It is the _unit\u00e9 de\nplan_, the fundamental type of the higher animal world, as it were the\narbitrarily chosen key upon which nature here plays.\n\nAristotle has already correctly defined the difference between the\nefficient cause (_causa efficiens_) and the final cause (_causa finalis_)\nin these words: \u201c\u0394\u03c5\u03bf \u03c4\u03c1\u03bf\u03c0\u03bf\u03b9 \u03c4\u03b7\u03c2 \u03b1\u03b9\u03c4\u03b9\u03b1\u03c2, \u03c4\u03bf \u03bf\u1f51 \u1f11\u03bd\u03b5\u03ba\u03b1 \u03ba\u03b1\u03b9 \u03c4\u03bf \u03b5\u03be \u03b1\u03bd\u03b1\u03b3\u03ba\u03b7\u03c2, \u03ba\u03b1\u03b9\n\u03b4\u03b5\u03b9 \u03bb\u03b5\u03b3\u03bf\u03bd\u03c4\u03b1\u03c2 \u03c4\u03c5\u03b3\u03c7\u03b1\u03bd\u03b5\u03b9\u03bd \u03bc\u03b1\u03bb\u03b9\u03c3\u03c4\u03b1 \u03bc\u03b5\u03bd \u03b1\u03bc\u03c6\u03bf\u03b9\u03bd.\u201d (_Duo sunt caus\u00e6 modi: alter\ncujus gratia, et alter e necessitate; ac potissimum utrumque eruere\noportet._) _De part. anim._, i. 1. The efficient cause is that _whereby_\nsomething is, the final cause that _on account of which_ it is; the\nphenomenon to be explained has, in time, the former _behind_ it, and the\nlatter _before_ it. Only in the case of the voluntary actions of animal\nbeings do the two directly unite, for here the final cause, the end,\nappears as the motive; a motive, however, is always the true and proper\n_cause_ of the action, is wholly and solely its _efficient_ cause, the\nchange preceding it which calls it forth, by virtue of which it\nnecessarily appears, and without which it could not happen; as I have\nshown in my prize essay upon freedom. For whatever of a physiological\nnature one might wish to insert between the act of will and the corporeal\nmovement, the _will_ always remains here confessedly that which moves, and\nwhat moves _it_ is the _motive_ coming from without, thus the _causa\nfinalis_; which consequently appears here as _causa efficiens_. Besides,\nwe know from what has gone before that the bodily movement is one with the\nact of will, for it is merely its phenomenal appearance in cerebral\nperception. This union of the _causa finalis_ with the efficient cause in\nthe one phenomenon _intimately_ known to us, which accordingly remains\nthroughout our typical phenomenon, is certainly to be firmly retained; for\nit leads precisely to the conclusion that at least in organised nature,\nthe knowledge of which has throughout final causes for its clue, a _will_\nis the forming power. In fact, we cannot otherwise distinctly think a\nfinal cause except as an end in view, _i.e._, a motive. Indeed, if we\ncarefully consider the final causes in nature in order to express their\ntranscendent nature, we must not shrink from a contradiction, and boldly\nsay: the final cause is a motive which acts upon a being, by which it is\nnot known. For certainly the termite nests are the motive which has\nproduced the toothless muzzle of the ant\u2010bear, and also its long\nextensile, glutinous tongue: the hard egg\u2010shell which holds the chicken\nimprisoned is certainly the motive for the horny point with which its beak\nis provided in order to break through that shell, after which it throws it\noff as of no further use. And in the same way the laws of the reflection\nand refraction of light are the motive for the wonderfully ingenious and\ncomplex optical instrument, the human eye, which has the transparency of\nits cornea, the different density of its three humours, the form of its\nlens, the blackness of its choroid, the sensitiveness of its retina, the\ncontracting power of its pupil, and its muscular system, accurately\ncalculated according to those laws. But those motives acted before they\nwere apprehended; it is not otherwise, however contradictory it may sound.\nFor here is the transition of the physical into the metaphysical. But the\nlatter we have already recognised in the _will_; therefore we must see\nthat the will which extends an elephant\u2019s trunk towards an object is the\nsame will which has also called it forth and formed it, anticipating\nobjects.\n\nIt is in conformity with this that in the investigation of _organised_\nnature we are entirely referred to _final causes_, everywhere seek for\nthese and explain everything from them. The _efficient causes_, on the\ncontrary, here assume only a quite subordinate position as the mere tools\nof the final causes, and, just as in the case of the voluntary movement of\nthe limbs, which is confessedly effected by external motives, they are\nrather assumed than pointed out. In explaining the physiological\n_functions_ we certainly look about for the efficient causes, though for\nthe most part in vain; but in explaining the origin of the parts we again\nlook for them no more, but are satisfied with the final causes alone. At\nthe most we have here some such general principle as that the larger the\npart is to be the stronger must be the artery that conducts blood to it;\nbut of the actually efficient causes which bring about, for example, the\neye, the ear, the brain, we know absolutely nothing. Indeed, even in\nexplaining the mere functions the final cause is far more important and\nmore to the point than the efficient; therefore, if the former alone is\nknown we are instructed and satisfied with regard to the principal matter,\nwhile, on the other hand, the efficient cause alone helps us little. For\nexample, if we really knew the _efficient cause_ of the circulation of the\nblood, as we do not, but still seek it, this would help us little unless\nwe knew the final cause, that the blood must go into the lungs for the\npurpose of oxidation, and again flow back for the purpose of nourishing;\nbut by the knowledge of this, even without the knowledge of the efficient\ncause, we have gained much light. Moreover, I am of opinion, as was said\nabove, that the circulation of the blood has no properly efficient cause,\nbut that the will is here as immediately active as in muscular movement\nwhere motives determine it by means of nerve conduction, so that here also\nthe movement is called forth directly by the final cause; thus by the need\nof oxidation in the lungs, which here to a certain extent acts as a motive\nupon the blood, yet so that the mediation of knowledge is in this case\nwanting, because everything takes place in the interior of the organism.\nThe so\u2010called metamorphosis of plants, a thought lightly thrown out by\nKaspar Wolf, which, under this hyperbolic title, Goethe pompously and with\nsolemn delivery expounds as his own production, belongs to the class of\nexplanations of organic nature from the efficient cause; although\nultimately he only says that nature does not in the case of every\nproduction begin from the beginning and create out of nothing, but as it\nwere, writing on in the same style, adds on to what already exists, makes\nuse of the earlier forms, developed, and raised to higher power, to carry\nits work further: just as it has done in the ascending series of animals\nentirely in accordance with the law: _Natura non facit saltus, et quod\ncommodissimum in omnibus suis operationibus sequitur_ (_Arist. de incessu\nanimalium, c. 2 et 8_). Indeed, to explain the blossom by pointing out in\nall its parts the form of the leaf seems to me almost the same as\nexplaining the structure of a house by showing that all its parts,\nstoreys, balconies, and garrets, are only composed of bricks and mere\nrepetitions of the original unity of the brick. And not much better,\nthough much more problematical, seems to me the explanation of the skull\nfrom vertebr\u00e6, although even here also it is a matter of course that the\ncovering or case of the brain will not be absolutely different and\nentirely disparate from that of the spinal cord, of which it is the\ncontinuation and terminal knob, but will rather be a carrying out of the\nsame kind of thing. This whole method of consideration belongs to the\nHomology of Richard Owen referred to above. On the other hand, it seems to\nme that the following explanation of the nature of the flower from its\n_final cause_, suggested by an Italian whose name has escaped me, is a far\nmore satisfactory account to give. The end of the _corolla_ is\u2014(1.)\nProtection of the pistil and the _stamina_; (2.) by means of it the\npurified saps are prepared, which are concentrated in the _pollen_ and\n_germs_; (3.) from the glands of its base the essential oil distils which,\nfor the most part as a fragrant vapour, surrounding the anthers and\npistil, protects them to a certain extent from the influence of the damp\nair. It is also one of the advantages of final causes that every\n_efficient_ cause always ultimately rests upon something that cannot be\nfathomed, a force of nature, _i.e._, a _qualitas occulta_, and, therefore,\nit can only give a _relative_ explanation; while the final cause within\nits sphere affords a sufficient and perfect explanation. It is true we are\nonly perfectly content when we know both the efficient cause, also called\nby Aristotle \u1f21 \u03b1\u03b9\u03c4\u03b9\u03b1 \u03b5\u03be \u03b1\u03bd\u03b1\u03b3\u03ba\u03b7\u03c2, and the final cause, \u1f21 \u03c7\u03b1\u03c1\u03b9\u03bd \u03c4\u03bf\u03c5\n\u03b2\u03b5\u03bb\u03c4\u03b9\u03bf\u03bd\u03bf\u03c2, at once and yet separately, as their concurrence, their\nwonderful working together, then surprises us, and on account of it the\nbest appears as the absolutely necessary, and the necessary again as if it\nwere merely the best and not necessary; for then arises in us the dim\nperception that both causes, however different may be their origin, are\nyet connected in the root, in the nature of the thing in itself. But such\na twofold knowledge is seldom attainable; in _organised_ nature, because\nthe efficient cause is seldom known to us; in _unorganised_ nature,\nbecause the final cause remains problematical. However, I will illustrate\nthis by a couple of examples as good as I find within the range of my\nphysiological knowledge, for which physiologists may be able to substitute\nclearer and more striking ones. The louse of the negro is black. Final\ncause: its own safety. Efficient cause: because its nourishment is the\nblack _rete Malpighi_ of the negro. The multifarious, brilliant, and gay\ncolouring of the plumage of tropical birds is explained, although only\nvery generally, from the strong effect of the light in the tropics, as its\nefficient cause. As the final cause I would assign that those brilliant\nfeathers are the gorgeous uniform in which the individuals of the\ninnumerable species there, often belonging to the same genus, may\nrecognise each other; so that each male may find his female. The same\nholds good of butterflies of different zones and latitudes. It has been\nobserved that consumptive women, in the last stage of their illness,\nreadily become pregnant, that the disease stops during pregnancy, but\nafter delivery appears again worse than before, and now generally results\nin death: similarly that consumptive men generally beget another child in\nthe last days of their life. The _final cause_ here is that nature, always\nso anxiously concerned for the maintenance of the species, seeks to\nreplace by a new individual the approaching loss of one in the prime of\nlife; the _efficient cause_, on the other hand, is the unusually excited\nstate of the nervous system which occurs in the last period of\nconsumption. From the same final cause is to be explained the analogous\nphenomenon that (according to Oken, _Die Zeugung_, p. 65) flies poisoned\nwith arsenic still couple, and die in the act of copulation. The final\ncause of the pubes in both sexes, and of the Mons Veneris in the female,\nis that even in the case of very thin subjects the Ossa pubis shall not be\nfelt, which might excite antipathy; the efficient cause, on the other\nhand, is to be sought in the fact that wherever the mucous membrane passes\nover to the outer skin, hair grows in the vicinity; and, secondly, also\nthat the head and the genitals are to a certain extent opposite poles of\neach other, and therefore have various relations and analogies between\nthem, among which is that of being covered with hair. The same efficient\ncause holds good also of the beard of the man; the final cause of it, I\nsuppose, lies in the fact that the pathogonomic signs, thus the rapid\nalterations of the countenance betraying every movement of the mind, are\nprincipally visible in the mouth and its vicinity; therefore, in order to\nconceal these from the prying eye of the adversary, as something dangerous\nin bargaining, or in sudden emergencies, nature gave man the beard (which\nshows that _homo homini lupus_). The woman, on the other hand, could\ndispense with this; for with her dissimulation and command of countenance\nare inborn. As I have said, there must be far more apt examples to be\nfound to show how the completely blind working of nature unites in the\nresult with the apparently intentional, or, as Kant calls it, the\nmechanism of nature with its technic; which points to the fact that both\nhave their common origin beyond their difference in the will as the thing\nin itself. Much would be achieved for the elucidation of this point of\nview, if, for example, we could find the efficient cause which carries the\ndriftwood to the treeless polar lands, or that which has concentrated the\ndry land of our planet principally in the northern half of it; while it is\nto be regarded as the final cause of this that the winter of that half,\nbecause it occurs in the perihelion which accelerates the course of the\nearth, is eight days shorter, and hereby is also milder. Yet in\nconsidering _unorganised_ nature the final cause is always ambiguous, and,\nespecially when the _efficient_ cause is found, leaves us in doubt whether\nit is not a merely subjective view, an aspect conditioned by our point of\nview. In this respect, however, it may be compared to many works of art;\nfor example, to coarse mosaics, theatre decorations, and to the god\nApennine at Pratolino, near Florence, composed of large masses of rock,\nall of which only produce their effect at a distance, and vanish when we\ncome near, because instead of them the efficient cause of their appearance\nnow becomes visible: but the forms are yet actually existent, and are no\nmere imagination. Analogous to this, then, are the final causes in\nunorganised nature, if the efficient causes appear. Indeed, those who take\na wide view of things would perhaps allow it to pass if I added that\nsomething similar is the case with omens.\n\nFor the rest, if any one desires to misuse the _external_ design, which,\nas has been said, always remains ambiguous for physico\u2010theological\ndemonstrations, which is done even at the present day, though it is to be\nhoped only by Englishmen, there are in this class enough examples _in\ncontrarium_, thus ateleological instances, to derange his conception. One\nof the strongest is presented by the unsuitableness of sea\u2010water for\ndrinking, in consequence of which man is never more exposed to the danger\nof dying of thirst than in the midst of the greatest mass of water on his\nplanet. \u201cWhy, then, does the sea need to be salt?\u201d let us ask our\nEnglishman.\n\nThat in _unorganised_ nature the final causes entirely withdraw into the\nbackground, so that an explanation from them alone is here no longer\nvalid, but the efficient causes are rather indispensably required, depends\nupon the fact that the will which objectifies itself here also no longer\nappears in individuals which constitute a whole for themselves, but in\nforces of nature and their action, whereby end and means are too far\nseparated for their relation to be clear and for us to recognise a\nmanifestation of will in it. This already occurs in organised nature, in a\ncertain degree, when the design is an external one, _i.e._, the end lies\nin _one_ individual and the means in _another_. Yet even here it remains\nunquestionable so long as the two belong to the same species, indeed it\nthen becomes the more striking. Here we have first to count the\nreciprocally adapted organisation of the genitals of the two sexes, and\nthen also many circumstances that assist the propagation of the species,\nfor example, in the case of the _Lampyris noctiluca_ (the glowworm) the\ncircumstance that only the male, which does not shine, has wings to enable\nit to seek out the female; the wingless female, on the other hand, since\nit only comes out in the evening, possesses the phosphorescent light, so\nthat the male may be able to find it. Yet in the case of the _Lampyris\nItalica_ both sexes shine, which is an instance of the natural luxury of\nthe South. But a striking, because quite special, example of the kind of\ndesign we are speaking of is afforded by the discovery made by Geoffroy\nSt. Hilaire, in his last years, of the more exact nature of the sucking\napparatus of the cetacea. Since all sucking requires the action of\nrespiration, it can only take place in the respirable medium itself, and\nnot under water, where, however, the sucking young of the whale hangs on\nto the teats of the mother; now to meet this the whole mammary apparatus\nof the cetacea is so modified that it has become an injecting organ, and\nplaced in the mouth of the young injects the milk into it without it\nrequiring to suck. When, on the contrary, the individual that affords\nessential help to another belongs to an entirely different species, and\neven to another kingdom of nature, we will doubt this external design just\nas in unorganised nature; unless it is evident that the maintenance of the\nspecies depends upon it. But this is the case with many plants whose\nfructification only takes place by means of insects, which either bear the\npollen to the stigma or bend the stamina to the pistil. The common\nbarberry, many kinds of iris, and _Aristolochia Clematitis_ cannot\nfructify themselves at all without the help of insects (_Chr. Cour._\nSprengel, _Entdecktes Geheimniss, &c._, 1793; Wildenow, _Grundriss der\nKr\u00e4uterkunde_, 353). Very many di\u0153cia, mon\u0153cia, and polygamia are in the\nsame position. The reciprocal support which the plant and the insect\nworlds receive from each other will be found admirably described in\nBurdach\u2019s large Physiology, vol. i. \u00a7 263. He very beautifully adds: \u201cThis\nis no mechanical assistance, no make\u2010shift, as if nature had made the\nplants yesterday, and had committed an error which she tries to correct\nto\u2010day through the insect; it is rather a deep\u2010lying sympathy between the\nplant and the animal worlds. It ought to reveal the identity of the two.\nBoth, children of one mother, ought to subsist with each other and through\neach other.\u201d And further on: \u201cBut the organised world stands in such a\nsympathy with the unorganised world also,\u201d &c. A proof of this _consensus\nnatur\u00e6_ is also afforded by the observation communicated in the second\nvolume of the \u201cIntroduction into Entomology\u201d by Kirby and Spence, that the\ninsect eggs that pass the winter attached to the twigs of the trees, which\nserve as nourishment for their larv\u00e6, are hatched exactly at the time at\nwhich the twig buds; thus, for example, the aphis of the birch a month\nearlier than that of the ash. Similarly, that the insects of perennial\nplants pass the winter upon these as eggs; but those of mere annuals,\nsince they cannot do this, in the state of pup\u00e6.\n\nThree great men have entirely rejected teleology, or the explanation from\nfinal causes, and many small men have echoed them. These three are,\nLucretius, Bacon of Verulam, and Spinoza. But in the case of all three we\nknow clearly enough the source of this aversion, namely, that they\nregarded it as inseparable from speculative theology, of which, however,\nthey entertained so great a distrust (which Bacon indeed prudently sought\nto conceal) that they wanted to give it a wide berth. We find Leibnitz\nalso entirely involved in this prejudice, for, with characteristic\nna\u00efvet\u00e9, he expresses it as something self\u2010evident in his _Lettre \u00e0 M.\nNicaise_ (_Spinoz\u00e6 op. ed Paulus_, vol. ii. p. 672): \u201c_Les causes finales,\nou ce qui est la m\u00eame chose, la consideration de la sagesse divine dans\nl\u2019ordre des choses._\u201d (The devil also _m\u00eame chose_!) At the same point of\nview we find, indeed, Englishmen even at the present day. The Bridgewater\u2010\nTreatise\u2010men\u2014Lord Brougham, &c.\u2014nay, even Richard Owen also, in his\n\u201c_Ost\u00e9ologie Compar\u00e9e_,\u201d thinks precisely as Leibnitz, which I have\nalready found fault with in the first volume. To all these teleology is at\nonce also theology, and at every instance of design recognised in nature,\ninstead of thinking and learning to understand nature, they break at once\ninto the childish cry, \u201cDesign! design!\u201d then strike up the refrain of\ntheir old wives\u2019 philosophy, and stop their ears against all rational\narguments, such as, however, the great Hume has already advanced against\nthem.(5)\n\nThe ignorance of the Kantian philosophy now, after seventy years, which is\nreally a disgrace to Englishmen of learning, is principally responsible\nfor this whole outcast position of the English; and this ignorance, again,\ndepends, at least in great measure, upon the nefarious influence of the\ndetestable English clergy, with whom stultification of every kind is a\nthing after their own hearts, so that only they may be able still to hold\nthe English nation, otherwise so intelligent, involved in the most\ndegrading bigotry; therefore, inspired by the basest obscurantism, they\noppose with all their might the education of the people, the investigation\nof nature, nay, the advancement of all human knowledge in general; and\nboth by means of their connections and by means of their scandalous,\nunwarrantable wealth, which increases the misery of the people, they\nextend their influence even to university teachers and authors, who\naccordingly (for example, Th. Brown, \u201cOn Cause and Effect\u201d) resort to\nsuppressions and perversions of every kind simply in order to avoid\nopposing even in a distant manner that \u201ccold superstition\u201d (as P\u00fcckler\nvery happily designates their religion, or the current arguments in its\nfavour).\n\nBut, on the other hand, the three great men of whom we are speaking, since\nthey lived long before the dawn of the Kantian philosophy, are to be\npardoned for their distrust of teleology on account of its origin; yet\neven Voltaire regarded the physico\u2010theological proof as irrefutable. In\norder, however, to go into this somewhat more fully: first of all, the\npolemic of Lucretius (iv. 824\u2010858) against teleology is so crude and\nclumsy that it refutes itself and convinces us of the opposite. But as\nregards Bacon (_De augm. scient._, iii. 4), he makes, in the first place,\nno distinction with reference to the use of final causes between organised\nand unorganised nature (which is yet just the principal matter), for, in\nhis examples of final causes, he mixes the two up together. Then he\nbanishes final causes from physics to metaphysics; but the latter is for\nhim, as it is still for many at the present day, identical with\nspeculative theology. From this, then, he regards final causes as\ninseparable, and goes so far in this respect that he blames Aristotle\nbecause he has made great use of final causes, yet without connecting them\nwith speculative theology (which I shall have occasion immediately\nespecially to praise). Finally, Spinoza (_Eth._ i. _prop._ 36, _appendix_)\nmakes it abundantly clear that he identifies teleology so entirely with\nphysico\u2010theology, against which he expresses himself with bitterness, that\nhe explains _Natura nihil frustra agere_: _hoc est, quod in usum hominum\nnon sit_: similarly, _Omnia naturalia tanquam ad suum utile media\nconsiderant, et credunt aliquem alium esse, qui illa media paraverit_; and\nalso: _Hinc statuerunt, Deos omnia in usum hominum fecisse et dirigere_.\nUpon this, then, he bases his assertion: _Naturam finem nullum sibi\npr\u00e6fixum habere et omnes causas finales nihil, nisi humana esse figmenta_.\nHis aim merely was to block the path of theism; and he had quite rightly\nrecognised the physico\u2010theological proof as its strongest weapon. But it\nwas reserved for Kant really to refute this proof, and for me to give the\ncorrect exposition of its material, whereby I have satisfied the maxim:\n_Est enim verum index sui et falsi_. But Spinoza did not know how else to\nhelp himself but by the desperate stroke of denying teleology itself, thus\ndesign in the works of nature\u2014an assertion the monstrosity of which is at\nonce evident to every one who has gained any accurate knowledge of\norganised nature. This limited point of view of Spinoza, together with his\ncomplete ignorance of nature, sufficiently prove his entire incompetence\nin this matter, and the folly of those who, upon his authority, believe\nthey must judge contemptuously of final causes.\n\nAristotle, who just here shows his brilliant side, contrasts very\nadvantageously with these modern philosophers. He goes unprejudiced to\nnature, knows of no physico\u2010theology\u2014such a thing has never entered his\nmind,\u2014and he has never looked at the world for the purpose of seeing\nwhether it was a bungled piece of work. He is in his heart pure from all\nthis, for he also sets up hypotheses as to the origin of animals and men\n(_De generat. anim._, iii. 11) without lighting upon the physico\u2010\ntheological train of thought. He always says: \u201c\u1f21 \u03c6\u03c5\u03c3\u03b9\u03c2 \u03c0\u03bf\u03b9\u03b5\u03b9 (_natura\nfacit_), never \u1f21 \u03c6\u03c5\u03c3\u03b9\u03c2 \u03c0\u03b5\u03c0\u03bf\u03b9\u03b7\u03c4\u03b1\u03b9\u201d (_natura facta est_). But after he has\ntruly and diligently studied nature, he finds that it everywhere proceeds\nteleologically, and he says: \u201c\u03bc\u03b1\u03c4\u03b7\u03bd \u1f41\u03c1\u03c9\u03bc\u03b5\u03bd \u03bf\u03c5\u03b4\u03b5\u03bd \u03c0\u03bf\u03b9\u03bf\u03c5\u03c3\u03b1\u03bd \u03c4\u03b7\u03bd \u03c6\u03c5\u03c3\u03b9\u03bd\u201d\n(_naturam nihil frustra facere cernimus_), _De respir._, c. 10; and in the\nbooks, _De partibus animalium_, which are a comparative anatomy: \u201c\u039f\u03c5\u03b4\u03b5\n\u03c0\u03b5\u03c1\u03b9\u03b5\u03c1\u03b3\u03bf\u03bd \u03bf\u03c5\u03b4\u03b5\u03bd, \u03bf\u03c5\u03c4\u03b5 \u03bc\u03b1\u03c4\u03b7\u03bd \u1f21 \u03c6\u03c5\u03c3\u03b9\u03c2 \u03c0\u03bf\u03b9\u03b5\u03b9.\u2014\u1f29 \u03c6\u03c5\u03c3\u03b9\u03c2 \u1f11\u03bd\u03b5\u03ba\u03b1 \u03c4\u03bf\u03c5 \u03c0\u03bf\u03b9\u03b5\u03b9\n\u03c0\u03b1\u03bd\u03c4\u03b1.\u2014\u03a0\u03b1\u03bd\u03c4\u03b1\u03c7\u03bf\u03c5 \u03b4\u03b5 \u03bb\u03b5\u03b3\u03bf\u03bc\u03b5\u03bd \u03c4\u03bf\u03b4\u03b5 \u03c4\u03bf\u03c5\u03b4\u03b5 \u1f11\u03bd\u03b5\u03ba\u03b1, \u1f41\u03c0\u03bf\u03c5 \u03b1\u03bd \u03c6\u03b1\u03b9\u03bd\u03b7\u03c4\u03b1\u03b9 \u03c4\u03b5\u03bb\u03bf\u03c2 \u03c4\u03b9,\n\u03c0\u03c1\u03bf\u03c2 \u1f41 \u1f21 \u03ba\u03b9\u03bd\u03b7\u03c3\u03b9\u03c2 \u03c0\u03b5\u03c1\u03b1\u03b9\u03bd\u03b5\u03b9; \u1f61\u03c3\u03c4\u03b5 \u03b5\u03b9\u03bd\u03b1\u03b9 \u03c6\u03b1\u03bd\u03b5\u03c1\u03bf\u03bd, \u1f41\u03c4\u03b9 \u03b5\u03c3\u03c4\u03b9 \u03c4\u03b9 \u03c4\u03bf\u03b9\u03bf\u03c5\u03c4\u03bf\u03bd, \u1f41 \u03b4\u03b7\n\u03ba\u03b1\u03b9 \u03ba\u03b1\u03bb\u03bf\u03c5\u03bc\u03b5\u03bd \u03c6\u03c5\u03c3\u03b9\u03bd. \u0395\u03c0\u03b5\u03b9 \u03c4\u03bf \u03c3\u03c9\u03bc\u03b1 \u03bf\u03c1\u03b3\u03b1\u03bd\u03bf\u03bd; \u1f11\u03bd\u03b5\u03ba\u03b1 \u03c4\u03b9\u03bd\u03bf\u03c2 \u03b3\u03b1\u03c1 \u1f11\u03ba\u03b1\u03c3\u03c4\u03bf\u03bd \u03c4\u03c9\u03bd\n\u03bc\u03bf\u03c1\u03b9\u03c9\u03bd, \u03bf\u03bc\u03bf\u03b9\u03c9\u03c2 \u03c4\u03b5 \u03ba\u03b1\u03b9 \u03c4\u03bf \u1f41\u03bb\u03bf\u03bd.\u201d (_Nihil supervacaneum, nihil frustra\nnatura facit.\u2014Natura rei alicujus gratia facit omnia.\u2014Rem autem hanc esse\nillius gratia asserere ubique solemus, quoties finem intelligimus aliquem,\nin quem motus terminetur; quocirca ejusmodi aliquid esse constat, quod\nNaturam vocamus. Est enim corpus instrumentum: nam membrum unumquodque __\nrei alicujus gratia est, tum vero totum ipsum._) At greater length, p. 633\nand 645 of the Berlin quarto edition, and also _De incessu animalium_, c.\n2: \u201c\u1f29 \u03c6\u03c5\u03c3\u03b9\u03c2 \u03bf\u03c5\u03b4\u03b5\u03bd \u03c0\u03bf\u03b9\u03b5\u03b9 \u03bc\u03b1\u03c4\u03b7\u03bd, \u03b1\u03bb\u03bb\u1fbd \u03b1\u03b5\u03b9, \u03b5\u03ba \u03c4\u03c9\u03bd \u03b5\u03bd\u03b4\u03b5\u03c7\u03bf\u03bc\u03b5\u03bd\u03c9\u03bd \u03c4\u1fc3 \u03bf\u03c5\u03c3\u03b9\u1fb3, \u03c0\u03b5\u03c1\u03b9\n\u1f11\u03ba\u03b1\u03c3\u03c4\u03bf\u03bd \u03b3\u03b5\u03bd\u03bf\u03c2 \u03b6\u03c9\u03bf\u03c5 \u03c4\u03bf \u03b1\u03c1\u03b9\u03c3\u03c4\u03bf\u03bd.\u201d (_Natura nihil frustra facit, sed semper\nex iis, qu\u00e6 cuique animalium generis essenti\u00e6 contingunt, id quod optimum\nest._) But he expressly recommends teleology at the end of the books _De\ngeneratione animalium_, and blames Democritus for having denied it, which\nis just what Bacon, in his prejudice, praises in him. Especially, however,\nin the \u201cPhysica,\u201d ii. 8, p. 198, Aristotle speaks _ex professo_ of final\ncauses, and establishes them as the true principle of the investigation of\nnature. In fact, every good and regular mind must, in considering\norganised nature, hit upon teleology, but unless it is determined by the\npreconceived opinions, by no means either upon physico\u2010theology or upon\nthe anthropo\u2010teleology condemned by Spinoza. With regard to Aristotle\ngenerally, I wish further to draw attention to the fact here, that his\nteaching, so far as it concerns _unorganised_ nature, is very defective\nand unserviceable, as in the fundamental conceptions of mechanics and\nphysics he accepts the most gross errors, which is the less pardonable,\nsince before him the Pythagoreans and Empedocles had been upon the right\npath and had taught much better. Empedocles indeed, as we learn from\nAristotle\u2019s second book, _De c\u0153lo_ (c. 1, p. 284), had already grasped the\nconception of a tangential force arising from rotation, and counteracting\ngravity, which Aristotle again rejects. Quite the reverse, however, is\nAristotle\u2019s relation to the investigation of _organised_ nature. This is\nhis field; here the wealth of his knowledge, the keenness of his\nobservation, nay, sometimes the depth of his insight, astonish us. Thus,\nto give just one example, he already knew the antagonism in which in the\nruminants the horns and the teeth of the upper jaw stand to each other, on\naccount of which, therefore, the latter are wanting where the former are\nfound, and conversely (_De partib. anim._, iii. 2). Hence then, also his\ncorrect estimation of final causes.\n\n\n\n\nChapter XXVII. On Instinct And Mechanical Tendency.\n\n\nIt is as if nature had wished, in the mechanical tendencies of animals, to\ngive the investigator an illustrative commentary upon her works, according\nto final causes and the admirable design of her organised productions\nwhich is thereby introduced. For these mechanical tendencies show most\nclearly that creatures can work with the greatest decision and\ndefiniteness towards an end which they do not know, nay, of which they\nhave no idea. Such, for instance, is the bird\u2019s nest, the spider\u2019s web,\nthe ant\u2010lion\u2019s pitfall, the ingenious bee\u2010hive, the marvellous termite\ndwelling, &c., at least for those individual animals that carry them out\nfor the first time; for neither the form of the perfected work nor the use\nof it can be known to them. Precisely so, however, does _organising_\nnature work; and therefore in the preceding chapter I gave the paradoxical\nexplanation of the final cause, that it is a motive which acts without\nbeing known. And as in working from mechanical tendency that which is\nactive is evidently and confessedly the _will_, so is it also really the\nwill which is active in the working of organising nature.\n\nOne might say, the will of animal creatures is set in motion in two\ndifferent ways: either by motivation or by instinct; thus from without, or\nfrom within; by an external occasion, or by an internal tendency; the\nformer is explicable because it lies before us without, the latter is\ninexplicable because it is merely internal. But, more closely considered,\nthe contrast between the two is not so sharp, indeed ultimately it runs\nback into a difference of degree. The motive also only acts under the\nassumption of an inner tendency, _i.e._, a definite quality of will which\nis called its _character_. The motive in each case only gives to this a\ndefinite direction\u2014individualises it for the concrete case. So also\ninstinct, although a definite tendency of the will, does not act entirely,\nlike a spring, from within; but it also waits for some external\ncircumstance necessarily demanded for its action, which at least\ndetermines the time of its manifestation; such is, for the migrating bird,\nthe season of the year; for the bird that builds its nest, the fact of\npregnancy and the presence of the material for the nest; for the bee it\nis, for the beginning of the structure, the basket or the hollow tree, and\nfor the following work many individually appearing circumstances; for the\nspider, it is a well\u2010adapted corner; for the caterpillar, the suitable\nleaf; for egg\u2010laying insects, the for the most part very specially\ndetermined and often rare place, where the hatched larv\u00e6 will at once find\ntheir nourishment, and so on. It follows from this that in works of\nmechanical tendency it is primarily the instinct of these animals that is\nactive, yet subordinated also to their intellect. The instinct gives the\nuniversal, the rule; the intellect the particular, the application, in\nthat it directs the detail of the execution, in which therefore the work\nof these animals clearly adapts itself to the circumstances of the\nexisting case. According to all this, the difference between instinct and\nmere character is to be fixed thus: Instinct is a character which is only\nset in motion by a _quite specially determined_ motive, and on this\naccount the action that proceeds from it is always exactly of the same\nkind; while the character which is possessed by every species of animal\nand every individual man is certainly a permanent and unalterable quality\nof will, which can yet be set in motion by very different motives, and\nadapts itself to these; and on account of this the action proceeding from\nit may, according to its material quality, be very different, but yet will\nalways bear the stamp of the same character, and will therefore express\nand reveal this; so that for the knowledge of this character the material\nquality of the action in which it appears is essentially a matter of\nindifference. Accordingly we might explain instinct as a character which\nis beyond all measure one\u2010sided and strictly determined. It follows from\nthis exposition that being determined by mere motivation presupposes a\ncertain width of the sphere of knowledge, and consequently a more fully\ndeveloped intellect: therefore it is peculiar to the higher animals, quite\npre\u2010eminently, however, to man; while being determined by instinct only\ndemands as much intellect as is necessary to apprehend the one quite\nspecially determined motive, which alone and exclusively becomes the\noccasion for the manifestation of the instinct. Therefore it is found in\nthe case of an exceedingly limited sphere of knowledge, and consequently,\nas a rule, and in the highest degree, only in animals of the lower\nclasses, especially insects. Since, accordingly, the actions of these\nanimals only require an exceedingly simple and small motivation from\nwithout, the medium of this, thus the intellect or the brain, is very\nslightly developed in them, and their outward actions are for the most\npart under the same guidance as the inner, follow upon mere stimuli,\nphysiological functions, thus the ganglion system. This is, then, in their\ncase excessively developed; their principal nerve\u2010stem runs under the\nbelly in the form of two cords, which at every limb of the body form a\nganglion little inferior to the brain in size, and, according to Cuvier,\nthis nerve\u2010stem is an analogue not so much of the spinal cord as of the\ngreat sympathetic nerve. According to all this, instinct and action\nthrough mere motivation, stand in a certain antagonism, in consequence of\nwhich the former has its maximum in insects, and the latter in man, and\nthe actuation of other animals lies between the two in manifold gradations\naccording as in each the cerebral or the ganglion system is\npreponderatingly developed. Just because the instinctive action and the\ningenious contrivances of insects are principally directed from the\nganglion system, if we regard them as proceeding from the brain alone, and\nwish to explain them accordingly, we fall into absurdities, because we\nthen apply a false key. The same circumstance, however, imparts to their\naction a remarkable likeness to that of somnambulists, which indeed is\nalso explained as arising from the fact that, instead of the brain, the\nsympathetic nerve has undertaken the conduct of the outward actions also;\ninsects are accordingly, to a certain extent, natural somnambulists.\nThings which we cannot get at directly we must make comprehensible to\nourselves by means of an analogy. What has just been referred to will\naccomplish this in a high degree when assisted by the fact that in\nKieser\u2019s \u201c_Tellurismus_\u201d (vol. ii. p. 250) a case is mentioned \u201cin which\nthe command of the mesmerist to the somnambulist to perform a definite\naction in a waking state was carried out by him when he awoke, without\nremembering the command.\u201d Thus it was as if he must perform that action\nwithout rightly knowing why. Certainly this has the greatest resemblance\nto what goes on in the case of mechanical instincts in insects. The young\nspider feels that it must spin its web, although it neither knows nor\nunderstands the aim of it. We are also reminded here of the d\u00e6mon of\nSocrates, on account of which he had the feeling that he must leave undone\nsome action expected of him, or lying near him, without knowing why\u2014for\nhis prophetic dream about it was forgotten. We have in our own day quite\nwell\u2010authenticated cases analogous to this; therefore I only briefly call\nthese to mind. One had taken his passage on a ship, but when it was about\nto sail he positively would not go on board without being conscious of a\nreason;\u2014the ship went down. Another goes with companions to a powder\nmagazine; when he has arrived in its vicinity he absolutely will not go\nany further, but turns hastily back, seized with anxiety he knows not\nwhy;\u2014the magazine blows up. A third upon the ocean feels moved one night,\nwithout any reason, not to undress, but lays himself on the bed in his\nclothes and boots, and even with his spectacles on;\u2014in the night the ship\ngoes on fire, and he is among the few who save themselves in the boat. All\nthis depends upon the dull after\u2010effect of forgotten fatidical dreams, and\ngives us the key to an analogous understanding of instinct and mechanical\ntendencies.\n\nOn the other hand, as has been said, the mechanical tendencies of insects\nreflect much light upon the working of the unconscious will in the inner\nfunctions of the organism and in its construction. For without any\ndifficulty we can see in the ant\u2010hill or the beehive the picture of an\norganism explained and brought to the light of knowledge. In this sense\nBurdach says (_Physiologie_, vol. ii. p. 22): \u201cThe formation and\ndepositing of the eggs is the part of the queen\u2010bee, and the care for the\ncultivation of them falls to the workers; thus in the former the ovary,\nand in the latter the uterus, is individualised.\u201d In the insect society,\nas in the animal organism, the _vita propria_ of each part is subordinated\nto the life of the whole, and the care for the whole precedes that for\nparticular existence; indeed the latter is only conditionally willed, the\nformer unconditionally; therefore the individuals are even sacrificed\noccasionally for the whole, as we allow a limb to be taken off in order to\nsave the whole body. Thus, for example, if the path is closed by water\nagainst the march of the ants, those in front boldly throw themselves in\nuntil their corpses are heaped up into a dam for those that follow. When\nthe drones have become useless they are stung to death. Two queens in the\nhive are surrounded, and must fight with each other till one of them loses\nits life. The ant\u2010mother bites its own wings off after it has been\nimpregnated, for they would only be a hindrance to it in the work that is\nbefore it of tending the new family it is about to found under the earth\n(Kirby and Spence, vol. i.) As the liver will do nothing more than secrete\ngall for the service of the digestion, nay, will only itself exist for\nthis end\u2014and so with every other part\u2014the working bees also will do\nnothing more than collect honey, secrete wax, and make cells for the brood\nof the queen; the drones nothing more than impregnate; the queen nothing\nbut deposit eggs; thus all the parts work only for the maintenance of the\nwhole which alone is the unconditional end, just like the parts of the\norganism. The difference is merely that in the organism the will acts\nperfectly blindly in its primary condition; in the insect society, on the\nother hand, the thing goes on already in the light of knowledge, to which,\nhowever, a decided co\u2010operation and individual choice is only left in the\naccidents of detail, where it gives assistance and adopts what has to be\ncarried out to the circumstances. But the insects will the end as a whole\nwithout knowing it; just like organised nature working according to final\ncauses; even the choice of the means is not as a whole left to their\nknowledge, but only the more detailed disposition of them. Just on this\naccount, however, their action is by no means automatic, which becomes\nmost distinctly visible if one opposes obstacles to their action. For\nexample, the caterpillar spins itself in leaves without knowing the end;\nbut if we destroy the web it skilfully repairs it. Bees adapt their hive\nat the first to the existing circumstances, and subsequent misfortunes,\nsuch as intentional destruction, they meet in the way most suitable to the\nspecial case (Kirby and Spence, _Introduc. to Entomol._; Huber, _Des\nabeilles_). Such things excite our astonishment, because the apprehension\nof the circumstances and the adaptation to these is clearly a matter of\nknowledge; while we believe them capable once for all of the most\ningenious preparation for the coming race and the distant future, well\nknowing that in this they are not guided by knowledge, for a forethought\nof that kind proceeding from knowledge demands an activity of the brain\nrising to the level of reason. On the other hand, the intellect even of\nthe lower animals is sufficient for the modifying and arranging of the\nparticular case according to the existing or appearing circumstances;\nbecause, guided by instinct, it has only to fill up the gaps which this\nleaves. Thus we see ants carry off their larv\u00e6 whenever the place is too\ndamp, and bring them back again when it becomes dry. They do not know the\naim of this, thus are not guided in it by knowledge; but the choice of the\ntime at which the place is no longer suitable for the larv\u00e6, and also of\nthe place to which they now bring them, is left to their knowledge. I wish\nhere also to mention a fact which some one related to me verbally from his\nown experience, though I have since found that Burdach quotes it from\nGleditsch. The latter, in order to test the burying\u2010beetle (_Necrophorus\nvespillo_), had tied a dead frog lying upon the ground to a string, the\nupper end of which was fastened to a stick stuck obliquely in the ground.\nNow after several burying\u2010beetles had, according to their custom,\nundermined the frog, it could not, as they expected, sink into the ground;\nafter much perplexed running hither and thither they undermined the stick\nalso. To this assistance rendered to instinct, and that repairing of the\nworks of mechanical tendency, we find in the organism the _healing power_\nof nature analogous, which not only heals wounds, replacing even bone and\nnerve substance, but, if through the injury of a vein or nerve branch a\nconnection is interrupted, opens a new connection by means of enlargement\nof other veins or nerves, nay, perhaps even by producing new branches;\nwhich further makes some other part or function take the place of a\ndiseased part or function; in the case of the loss of an eye sharpens the\nother, or in the case of the loss of one of the senses sharpens all the\nrest; which even sometimes closes an intestinal wound, in itself fatal, by\nthe adhesion of the mesentery or the peritoneum; in short, seeks to meet\nevery injury and every disturbance in the most ingenious manner. If, on\nthe other hand, the injury is quite incurable, it hastens to expedite\ndeath, and indeed the more so the higher is the species of the organism,\nthus the greater its sensibility. Even this has its analogue in the\ninstinct of insects. The wasps, for instance, who through the whole summer\nhave with great care and labour fed their larv\u00e6 on the produce of their\nplundering, but now, in October, see the last generation of them facing\nstarvation, sting them to death (Kirby and Spence, vol. i. p. 374). Nay,\nstill more curious and special analogies may be found; for example, this:\nif the female humble\u2010bee (_Apis terrestris, bombylius_) lays eggs, the\nworking humble\u2010bees are seized with a desire to devour them, which lasts\nfrom six to eight hours and is satisfied unless the mother keeps them off\nand carefully guards the eggs. But after this time the working humble\u2010bees\nshow absolutely no inclination to eat the eggs even when offered to them;\non the contrary, they now become the zealous tenders and nourishers of the\nlarv\u00e6 now being hatched out. This may without violence be taken as an\nanalogue of children\u2019s complaints, especially teething, in which it is\njust the future nourishers of the organism making an attack upon it which\nso often costs it its life. The consideration of all these analogies\nbetween organised life and the instinct, together with the mechanical\ntendencies of the lower animals, serves ever more to confirm the\nconviction that the _will_ is the basis of the one as of the other, for it\nshows here also the subordinate r\u00f4le of knowledge in the action of the\nwill, sometimes more, sometimes less, confined, and sometimes wanting\naltogether.\n\nBut in yet another respect instincts and the animal organisation\nreciprocally illustrate each other: through the _anticipation of the\nfuture_ which appears in both. By means of instincts and mechanical\ntendencies animals care for the satisfaction of wants which they do not\nyet feel, nay, not only for their own wants, but even for those of the\nfuture brood. Thus they work for an end which is as yet unknown to them.\nThis goes so far, as I have illustrated by the example of the Bombex in\n\u201cThe Will in Nature\u201d (second edit. p. 45, third edit. p. 47), that they\npursue and kill in advance the enemies of their future eggs. In the same\nway we see the future wants of an animal, its prospective ends,\nanticipated in its whole corporisation by the organised implements for\ntheir attainment and satisfaction; from which, then, proceeds that perfect\nadaptation of the structure of every animal to its manner of life, that\nequipment of it with the needful weapons to attack its prey and to ward\noff its enemies, and that calculation of its whole form with reference to\nthe element and the surroundings in which it has to appear as a pursuer,\nwhich I have fully described in my work on the will in nature under the\nrubric \u201cComparative Anatomy.\u201d All these anticipations, both in the\ninstinct and in the organisation of animals, we might bring under the\nconception of a knowledge _a priori_, if _knowledge_ lay at their\nfoundation at all. But this is, as we have shown, not the case. Their\nsource lies deeper than the sphere of knowledge, in the will as the thing\nin itself, which as such remains free even from the _forms_ of knowledge;\ntherefore with reference to it time has no significance, consequently the\nfuture lies as near it as the present.\n\n\n\n\nChapter XXVIII.(6) Characterisation Of The Will To Live.\n\n\nOur second book closed with the question as to the goal and aim of that\nwill which had shown itself to be the inner nature of all things in the\nworld. The following remarks may serve to supplement the answer to this\nquestion given there in general terms, for they lay down the character of\nthe will as a whole.\n\nSuch a characterisation is possible because we have recognised as the\ninner nature of the world something thoroughly real and empirically given.\nOn the other hand, the very name \u201cworld\u2010soul,\u201d by which many have denoted\nthat inner being, gives instead of this a mere _ens rationis_; for \u201csoul\u201d\nsignifies an individual unity of consciousness which clearly does not\nbelong to that nature, and in general, since the conception \u201csoul\u201d\nsupposes knowing and willing in inseparable connection and yet independent\nof the animal organism, it is not to be justified, and therefore not to be\nused. The word should never be applied except in a metaphorical sense, for\nit is much more insidious than \u03c8\u03c5\u03c7\u03b7 or anima, which signify breath.\n\nMuch more unsuitable, however, is the way in which so\u2010called pantheists\nexpress themselves, whose whole philosophy consists chiefly in this, that\nthey call the inner nature of the world, which is unknown to them, \u201cGod;\u201d\nby which indeed they imagine they have achieved much. According to this,\nthen, the world would be a theophany. But let one only look at it: this\nworld of constantly needy creatures, who continue for a time only by\ndevouring one another, fulfil their existence in anxiety and want, and\noften suffer terrible miseries, till at last they fall into the arms of\ndeath; whoever distinctly looks upon this will allow that Aristotle was\nright in saying: \u201c\u1f21 \u03c6\u03c5\u03c3\u03b9\u03c2 \u03b4\u03b1\u03b9\u03bf\u03bc\u03bf\u03bd\u03b9\u03b1, \u03b1\u03bb\u03bb\u1fbd \u03bf\u03c5 \u03b8\u03b5\u03b9\u03b1 \u03b5\u03c3\u03c4\u03b9\u201d (_Natura d\u00e6monia\nest, non divina_), _De divinat._, c. 2, p. 463; nay, he will be obliged to\nconfess that a God who could think of changing Himself into such a world\nas this must certainly have been tormented by the devil. I know well that\nthe pretended philosophers of this century follow Spinoza in this, and\nthink themselves thereby justified. But Spinoza had special reasons for\nthus naming his one substance, in order, namely, to preserve at least the\nword, although not the thing. The stake of Giordano Bruno and of Vanini\nwas still fresh in the memory; they also had been sacrificed to that God\nfor whose honour incomparably more human sacrifices have bled than on the\naltars of all heathen gods of both hemispheres together. If, then, Spinoza\ncalls the world God, it is exactly the same thing as when Rousseau in the\n\u201c_Contrat social_,\u201d constantly and throughout denotes the people by the\nword _le souverain_; we might also compare it with this, that once a\nprince who intended to abolish the nobility in his land, in order to rob\nno one of his own, hit upon the idea of ennobling all his subjects. Those\nphilosophers of our day have certainly one other ground for the\nnomenclature we are speaking of, but it is no more substantial. In their\nphilosophising they all start, not from the world or our consciousness of\nit, but from God, as something given and known; He is not their\n_qu\u00e6situm_, but their _datum_. If they were boys I would then explain to\nthem that this is a _petitio principii_, but they know this as well as I\ndo. But since Kant has shown that the path of the earlier dogmatism, which\nproceeded honestly, the path from the world to a God, does not lead there,\nthese gentlemen now imagine they have found a fine way of escape and made\nit cunningly. Will the reader of a later age pardon me for detaining him\nwith persons of whom he has never heard.\n\nEvery glance at the world, to explain which is the task of the\nphilosopher, confirms and proves that _will to live_, far from being an\narbitrary hypostasis or an empty word, is the only true expression of its\ninmost nature. Everything presses and strives towards _existence_, if\npossible _organised existence_, _i.e._, _life_, and after that to the\nhighest possible grade of it. In animal nature it then becomes apparent\nthat _will to live_ is the keynote of its being, its one unchangeable and\nunconditioned quality. Let any one consider this universal desire for\nlife, let him see the infinite willingness, facility, and exuberance with\nwhich the will to live presses impetuously into existence under a million\nforms everywhere and at every moment, by means of fructification and of\ngerms, nay, when these are wanting, by means of _generatio \u00e6quivoca_,\nseizing every opportunity, eagerly grasping for itself every material\ncapable of life: and then again let him cast a glance at its fearful alarm\nand wild rebellion when in any particular phenomenon it must pass out of\nexistence; especially when this takes place with distinct consciousness.\nThen it is precisely the same as if in this single phenomenon the whole\nworld would be annihilated for ever, and the whole being of this\nthreatened living thing is at once transformed into the most desperate\nstruggle against death and resistance to it. Look, for example, at the\nincredible anxiety of a man in danger of his life, the rapid and serious\nparticipation in this of every witness of it, and the boundless rejoicing\nat his deliverance. Look at the rigid terror with which a sentence of\ndeath is heard, the profound awe with which we regard the preparations for\ncarrying it out, and the heartrending compassion which seizes us at the\nexecution itself. We would then suppose there was something quite\ndifferent in question than a few less years of an empty, sad existence,\nembittered by troubles of every kind, and always uncertain: we would\nrather be amazed that it was a matter of any consequence whether one\nattained a few years earlier to the place where after an ephemeral\nexistence he has billions of years to be. In such phenomena, then, it\nbecomes visible that I am right in declaring that _the will to live_ is\nthat which cannot be further explained, but lies at the foundation of all\nexplanations, and that this, far from being an empty word, like the\nabsolute, the infinite, the idea, and similar expressions, is the most\nreal thing we know, nay, the kernel of reality itself.\n\nBut if now, abstracting for a while from this interpretation drawn from\nour inner being, we place ourselves as strangers over against nature, in\norder to comprehend it objectively, we find that from the grade of\norganised life upwards it has only one intention\u2014that of the _maintenance\nof the species_. To this end it works, through the immense superfluity of\ngerms, through the urgent vehemence of the sexual instinct, through its\nwillingness to adapt itself to all circumstances and opportunities, even\nto the production of bastards, and through the instinctive maternal\naffection, the strength of which is so great that in many kinds of animals\nit even outweighs self\u2010love, so that the mother sacrifices her life in\norder to preserve that of the young. The individual, on the contrary, has\nfor nature only an indirect value, only so far as it is the means of\nmaintaining the species. Apart from this its existence is to nature a\nmatter of indifference; indeed nature even leads it to destruction as soon\nas it has ceased to be useful for this end. Why the individual exists\nwould thus be clear; but why does the species itself exist? That is a\nquestion which nature when considered merely objectively cannot answer.\nFor in vain do we seek by contemplating her for an end of this restless\nstriving, this ceaseless pressing into existence, this anxious care for\nthe maintenance of the species. The strength and time of the individuals\nare consumed in the effort to procure sustenance for themselves and their\nyoung, and are only just sufficient, sometimes even not sufficient, for\nthis. Even if here and there a surplus of strength, and therefore of\ncomfort\u2014in the case of the _one_ rational species also of\nknowledge\u2014remains, this is much too insignificant to pass for the end of\nthat whole process of nature. The whole thing, when regarded thus purely\nobjectively, and indeed as extraneous to us, looks as if nature was only\nconcerned that of all her (Platonic) _Ideas_, _i.e._, permanent forms,\nnone should be lost. Accordingly, as if she had so thoroughly satisfied\nherself with the fortunate discovery and combination of these Ideas (for\nwhich the three preceding occasions on which she stocked the earth\u2019s\nsurface with animals were only the preparation), that now her only fear is\nlest any one of these beautiful fancies should be lost, _i.e._, lest any\none of these forms should disappear from time and the causal series. For\nthe individuals are fleeting as the water in the brook; the Ideas, on the\ncontrary, are permanent, like its eddies: but the exhaustion of the water\nwould also do away with the eddies. We would have to stop at this\nunintelligible view if nature were known to us only from without, thus\nwere given us merely _objectively_, and we accepted it as it is\ncomprehended by knowledge, and also as sprung from knowledge, _i.e._, in\nthe sphere of the idea, and were therefore obliged to confine ourselves to\nthis province in solving it. But the case is otherwise, and a glance at\nany rate is afforded us into the _interior of nature_; inasmuch as this is\nnothing else than _our own inner being_, which is precisely where nature,\narrived at the highest grade to which its striving could work itself up,\nis now by the light of knowledge found directly in self\u2010consciousness.\nHere the will shows itself to us as something _toto genere_ different from\nthe idea, in which nature appears unfolded in all her (Platonic) Ideas;\nand it now gives us, at one stroke, the explanation which could never be\nfound upon the objective path of the idea. Thus the subjective here gives\nthe key for the exposition of the objective. In order to recognise, as\nsomething original and unconditioned, that exceedingly strong tendency of\nall animals and men to retain life and carry it on as long as possible\u2014a\ntendency which was set forth above as characteristic of the subjective, or\nof the will\u2014it is necessary to make clear to ourselves that this is by no\nmeans the result of any objective _knowledge_ of the worth of life, but is\nindependent of all knowledge; or, in other words, that those beings\nexhibit themselves, not as drawn from in front, but as impelled from\nbehind.\n\nIf with this intention we first of all review the interminable series of\nanimals, consider the infinite variety of their forms, as they exhibit\nthemselves always differently modified according to their element and\nmanner of life, and also ponder the inimitable ingenuity of their\nstructure and mechanism, which is carried out with equal perfection in\nevery individual; and finally, if we take into consideration the\nincredible expenditure of strength, dexterity, prudence, and activity\nwhich every animal has ceaselessly to make through its whole life; if,\napproaching the matter more closely, we contemplate the untiring diligence\nof wretched little ants, the marvellous and ingenious industry of the\nbees, or observe how a single burying\u2010beetle (_Necrophorus vespillo_)\nburies a mole of forty times its own size in two days in order to deposit\nits eggs in it and insure nourishment for the future brood (_Gleditsch,\nPhysik. Bot. \u0152kon. Abhandl._, iii. 220), at the same time calling to mind\nhow the life of most insects is nothing but ceaseless labour to prepare\nfood and an abode for the future brood which will arise from their eggs,\nand which then, after they have consumed the food and passed through the\nchrysalis state, enter upon life merely to begin again from the beginning\nthe same labour; then also how, like this, the life of the birds is for\nthe most part taken up with their distant and laborious migrations, then\nwith the building of their nests and the collecting of food for the brood,\nwhich itself has to play the same r\u00f4le the following year; and so all work\nconstantly for the future, which afterwards makes bankrupt;\u2014then we cannot\navoid looking round for the reward of all this skill and trouble, for the\nend which these animals have before their eyes, which strive so\nceaselessly\u2014in short, we are driven to ask: What is the result? what is\nattained by the animal existence which demands such infinite preparation?\nAnd there is nothing to point to but the satisfaction of hunger and the\nsexual instinct, or in any case a little momentary comfort, as it falls to\nthe lot of each animal individual, now and then in the intervals of its\nendless need and struggle. If we place the two together, the indescribable\ningenuity of the preparations, the enormous abundance of the means, and\nthe insufficiency of what is thereby aimed at and attained, the insight\npresses itself upon us that life is a business, the proceeds of which are\nvery far from covering the cost of it. This becomes most evident in some\nanimals of a specially simple manner of life. Take, for example, the mole,\nthat unwearied worker. To dig with all its might with its enormous shovel\nclaws is the occupation of its whole life; constant night surrounds it;\nits embryo eyes only make it avoid the light. It alone is truly an _animal\nnocturnum_; not cats, owls, and bats, who see by night. But what, now,\ndoes it attain by this life, full of trouble and devoid of pleasure? Food\nand the begetting of its kind; thus only the means of carrying on and\nbeginning anew the same doleful course in new individuals. In such\nexamples it becomes clear that there is no proportion between the cares\nand troubles of life and the results or gain of it. The consciousness of\nthe world of perception gives a certain appearance of objective worth of\nexistence to the life of those animals which can see, although in their\ncase this consciousness is entirely subjective and limited to the\ninfluence of motives upon them. But the _blind_ mole, with its perfect\norganisation and ceaseless activity, limited to the alternation of insect\nlarv\u00e6 and hunger, makes the disproportion of the means to the end\napparent. In this respect the consideration of the animal world left to\nitself in lands uninhabited by men is also specially instructive. A\nbeautiful picture of this, and of the suffering which nature prepares for\nherself without the interference of man, is given by Humboldt in his\n\u201c_Ansichten der Natur_\u201d (second edition, p. 30 _et seq._); nor does he\nneglect to cast a glance (p. 44) at the analogous suffering of the human\nrace, always and everywhere at variance with itself. Yet in the simple and\neasily surveyed life of the brutes the emptiness and vanity of the\nstruggle of the whole phenomenon is more easily grasped. The variety of\nthe organisations, the ingenuity of the means, whereby each is adapted to\nits element and its prey contrasts here distinctly with the want of any\nlasting final aim; instead of which there presents itself only momentary\ncomfort, fleeting pleasure conditioned by wants, much and long suffering,\nconstant strife, _bellum omnium_, each one both a hunter and hunted,\npressure, want, need, and anxiety, shrieking and howling; and this goes on\n_in secula seculorum_, or till once again the crust of the planet breaks.\nYunghahn relates that he saw in Java a plain far as the eye could reach\nentirely covered with skeletons, and took it for a battlefield; they were,\nhowever, merely the skeletons of large turtles, five feet long and three\nfeet broad, and the same height, which come this way out of the sea in\norder to lay their eggs, and are then attacked by wild dogs (_Canis\nrutilans_), who with their united strength lay them on their backs, strip\noff their lower armour, that is, the small shell of the stomach, and so\ndevour them alive. But often then a tiger pounces upon the dogs. Now all\nthis misery repeats itself thousands and thousands of times, year out,\nyear in. For this, then, these turtles are born. For whose guilt must they\nsuffer this torment? Wherefore the whole scene of horror? To this the only\nanswer is: it is thus that the will to live objectifies itself.(7) Let one\nconsider it well and comprehend it in all its objectifications; and then\none will arrive at an understanding of its nature and of the world; but\nnot if one frames general conceptions and builds card houses out of them.\nThe comprehension of the great drama of the objectification of the will to\nlive, and the characterisation of its nature, certainly demands somewhat\nmore accurate consideration and greater thoroughness than the dismissal of\nthe world by attributing to it the title of God, or, with a silliness\nwhich only the German fatherland offers and knows how to enjoy, explaining\nit as the \u201cIdea in its other being,\u201d in which for twenty years the\nsimpletons of my time have found their unutterable delight. Certainly,\naccording to pantheism or Spinozism, of which the systems of our century\nare mere travesties, all that sort of thing reels itself off actually\nwithout end, straight on through all eternity. For then the world is a\nGod, _ens perfectissimum_, _i.e._, nothing better can be or be conceived.\nThus there is no need of deliverance from it; and consequently there is\nnone. But why the whole tragi\u2010comedy exists cannot in the least be seen;\nfor it has no spectators, and the actors themselves undergo infinite\ntrouble, with little and merely negative pleasure.\n\nLet us now add the consideration of the human race. The matter indeed\nbecomes more complicated, and assumes a certain seriousness of aspect; but\nthe fundamental character remains unaltered. Here also life presents\nitself by no means as a gift for enjoyment, but as a task, a drudgery to\nbe performed; and in accordance with this we see, in great and small,\nuniversal need, ceaseless cares, constant pressure, endless strife,\ncompulsory activity, with extreme exertion of all the powers of body and\nmind. Many millions, united into nations, strive for the common good, each\nindividual on account of his own; but many thousands fall as a sacrifice\nfor it. Now senseless delusions, now intriguing politics, incite them to\nwars with each other; then the sweat and the blood of the great multitude\nmust flow, to carry out the ideas of individuals, or to expiate their\nfaults. In peace industry and trade are active, inventions work miracles,\nseas are navigated, delicacies are collected from all ends of the world,\nthe waves engulf thousands. All strive, some planning, others acting; the\ntumult is indescribable. But the ultimate aim of it all, what is it? To\nsustain ephemeral and tormented individuals through a short span of time\nin the most fortunate case with endurable want and comparative freedom\nfrom pain, which, however, is at once attended with ennui; then the\nreproduction of this race and its striving. In this evident disproportion\nbetween the trouble and the reward, the will to live appears to us from\nthis point of view, if taken objectively, as a fool, or subjectively, as a\ndelusion, seized by which everything living works with the utmost exertion\nof its strength for something that is of no value. But when we consider it\nmore closely, we shall find here also that it is rather a blind pressure,\na tendency entirely without ground or motive.\n\nThe law of motivation, as was shown in \u00a7 29 of the first volume, only\nextends to the particular actions, not to willing _as a whole and in\ngeneral_. It depends upon this, that if we conceive of the human race and\nits action _as a whole and universally_, it does not present itself to us,\nas when we contemplate the particular actions, as a play of puppets who\nare pulled after the ordinary manner by threads outside them; but from\nthis point of view, as puppets which are set in motion by internal\nclockwork. For if, as we have done above, one compares the ceaseless,\nserious, and laborious striving of men with what they gain by it, nay,\neven with what they ever can gain, the disproportion we have pointed out\nbecomes apparent, for one recognises that that which is to be gained,\ntaken as the motive\u2010power, is entirely insufficient for the explanation of\nthat movement and that ceaseless striving. What, then, is a short\npostponement of death, a slight easing of misery or deferment of pain, a\nmomentary stilling of desire, compared with such an abundant and certain\nvictory over them all as death? What could such advantages accomplish\ntaken as actual moving causes of a human race, innumerable because\nconstantly renewed, which unceasingly moves, strives, struggles, grieves,\nwrithes, and performs the whole tragi\u2010comedy of the history of the world,\nnay, what says more than all, _perseveres_ in such a mock\u2010existence as\nlong as each one possibly can? Clearly this is all inexplicable if we seek\nthe moving causes outside the figures and conceive the human race as\nstriving, in consequence of rational reflection, or something analogous to\nthis (as moving threads), after those good things held out to it, the\nattainment of which would be a sufficient reward for its ceaseless cares\nand troubles. The matter being taken thus, every one would rather have\nlong ago said, \u201c_Le jeu ne vaut pas la chandelle_,\u201d and have gone out.\nBut, on the contrary, every one guards and defends his life, like a\nprecious pledge intrusted to him under heavy responsibility, under\ninfinite cares and abundant misery, even under which life is tolerable.\nThe wherefore and the why, the reward for this, certainly he does not see;\nbut he has accepted the worth of that pledge without seeing it, upon trust\nand faith, and does not know what it consists in. Hence I have said that\nthese puppets are not pulled from without, but each bears in itself the\nclockwork from which its movements result. This is _the will to live_,\nmanifesting itself as an untiring machine, an irrational tendency, which\nhas not its sufficient reason in the external world. It holds the\nindividuals firmly upon the scene, and is the _primum mobile_ of their\nmovements; while the external objects, the motives, only determine their\ndirection in the particular case; otherwise the cause would not be at all\nsuitable to the effect. For, as every manifestation of a force of nature\nhas a cause, but the force of nature itself none, so every particular act\nof will has a motive, but the will in general has none: indeed at bottom\nthese two are one and the same. The will, as that which is metaphysical,\nis everywhere the boundary\u2010stone of every investigation, beyond which it\ncannot go. From the original and unconditioned nature of the will, which\nhas been proved, it is explicable that man loves beyond everything else an\nexistence full of misery, trouble, pain, and anxiety, and, again, full of\nennui, which, if he considered and weighed it purely objectively, he would\ncertainly abhor, and fears above all things the end of it, which is yet\nfor him the one thing certain.(8) Accordingly we often see a miserable\nfigure, deformed and shrunk with age, want, and disease, implore our help\nfrom the bottom of his heart for the prolongation of an existence, the end\nof which would necessarily appear altogether desirable if it were an\nobjective judgment that determined here. Thus instead of this it is the\nblind will, appearing as the tendency to life, the love of life, and the\nsense of life; it is the same which makes the plants grow. This sense of\nlife may be compared to a rope which is stretched above the puppet\u2010show of\nthe world of men, and on which the puppets hang by invisible threads,\nwhile apparently they are supported only by the ground beneath them (the\nobjective value of life). But if the rope becomes weak the puppet sinks;\nif it breaks the puppet must fall, for the ground beneath it only seemed\nto support it: _i.e._, the weakening of that love of life shows itself as\nhypochondria, spleen, melancholy: its entire exhaustion as the inclination\nto suicide, which now takes place on the slightest occasion, nay, for a\nmerely imaginary reason, for now, as it were, the man seeks a quarrel with\nhimself, in order to shoot himself dead, as many do with others for a like\npurpose;\u2014indeed, upon necessity, suicide is resorted to without any\nspecial occasion. (Evidence of this will be found in Esquirol, _Des\nmaladies mentales_, 1838.) And as with the persistence in life, so is it\nalso with its action and movement. This is not something freely chosen;\nbut while every one would really gladly rest, want and ennui are the whips\nthat keep the top spinning. Therefore the whole and every individual bears\nthe stamp of a forced condition; and every one, in that, inwardly weary,\nhe longs for rest, but yet must press forward, is like his planet, which\ndoes not fall into the sun only because a force driving it forward\nprevents it. Therefore everything is in continual strain and forced\nmovement, and the course of the world goes on, to use an expression of\nAristotle\u2019s (_De c\u0153lo_, ii. 13), \u201c\u03bf\u03c5 \u03c6\u03c5\u03c3\u03b5\u03b9, \u03b1\u03bb\u03bb\u03b1 \u03b2\u03b9\u1fb3\u201d (_Motu, non naturali\nsed violento_). Men are only apparently drawn from in front; really they\nare pushed from behind; it is not life that tempts them on, but necessity\nthat drives them forward. The law of motivation is, like all causality,\nmerely the form of the phenomenon. We may remark in passing that this is\nthe source of the comical, the burlesque, the grotesque, the ridiculous\nside of life; for, urged forward against his will, every one bears himself\nas best he can, and the straits that thus arise often look comical enough,\nserious as is the misery which underlies them.\n\nIn all these considerations, then, it becomes clear to us that the will to\nlive is not a consequence of the knowledge of life, is in no way a\n_conclusio ex pr\u00e6missis_, and in general is nothing secondary. Rather, it\nis that which is first and unconditioned, the premiss of all premisses,\nand just on that account that from which philosophy must _start_, for the\nwill to live does not appear in consequence of the world, but the world in\nconsequence of the will to live.\n\nI scarcely need to draw attention to the fact that the considerations with\nwhich we now conclude the second book already point forcibly to the\nserious theme of the fourth book, indeed would pass over into it directly\nif it were not that my architectonic symmetry makes it necessary that the\nthird book, with its fair contents, should come between, as a second\nconsideration of _the world as idea_, the conclusion of which, however,\nagain points in the same direction.\n\n\n\n\n\nSUPPLEMENTS TO THE THIRD BOOK.\n\n\n    \u201c_Et is similis spectatori est, quad ab omni separatus spectaculum\n    videt._\u201d\n\n    \u2014OUPNEKHAT, vol. i. p. 304.\n\n\n\n\nChapter XXIX.(9) On The Knowledge Of The Ideas.\n\n\nThe intellect, which has hitherto only been considered in its original and\nnatural condition of servitude under the will, appears in the third book\nin its deliverance from that bondage; with regard to which, however, it\nmust at once be observed that we have not to do here with a lasting\nemancipation, but only with a brief hour of rest, an exceptional and\nindeed only momentary release from the service of the will. As this\nsubject has been treated with sufficient fulness in the first volume, I\nhave here only to add a few supplementary remarks.\n\nAs, then, was there explained, the intellect in its activity in the\nservice of the will, thus in its natural function, knows only the mere\n_relations_ of things; primarily to the will itself, to which it belongs,\nwhereby they become motives of the will; but then also, just for the sake\nof the completeness of this knowledge, the relations of things to each\nother. This last knowledge first appears in some extent and importance in\nthe human intellect; in the case of the brutes, on the other hand, even\nwhere the intellect is considerably developed, only within very narrow\nlimits. Clearly even the apprehension of the relations which things have\nto each other only takes place, _indirectly_, in the service of the will.\nIt therefore forms the transition to the purely objective knowledge, which\nis entirely independent of the will; it is scientific knowledge, the\nlatter is artistic knowledge. If many and various relations of an object\nare immediately apprehended, from these the peculiar and proper nature of\nthe object appears ever more distinctly, and gradually constructs itself\nout of mere relations: although it itself is entirely different from them.\nIn this mode of apprehension the subjection of the intellect to the will\nat once becomes ever more indirect and less. If the intellect has strength\nenough to gain the preponderance, and let go altogether the relations of\nthings to the will, in order to apprehend, instead of them, the purely\nobjective nature of a phenomenon, which expresses itself through all\nrelations, it also forsakes, along with the service of the will, the\napprehension of mere relations, and thereby really also that of the\nindividual thing as such. It then moves freely, no longer belonging to a\nwill. In the individual thing it knows only the _essential_, and therefore\nits whole _species_; consequently it now has for its object the _Ideas_,\nin my sense, which agrees with the original, Platonic meaning of this\ngrossly misused word; thus the permanent, unchanging forms, independent of\nthe temporal existence of the individuals, the _species rerum_, which\nreally constitute what is purely objective in the phenomena. An Idea so\napprehended is not yet indeed the essence of the thing in itself, just\nbecause it has sprung from knowledge of mere relations; yet, as the result\nof the sum of all the relations, it is the peculiar _character_ of the\nthing, and thereby the complete expression of the essence which exhibits\nitself as an object of perception, comprehended, not in relation to an\nindividual will, but as it expresses itself spontaneously, whereby indeed\nit determines all its relations, which till then alone were known. The\nIdea is the root point of all these relations, and thereby the complete\nand perfect phenomenon, or, as I have expressed it in the text, the\nadequate objectivity of the will at this grade of its manifestation. Form\nand colour, indeed, which in the apprehension of the Idea by perception\nare what is immediate, belong at bottom not to the Idea itself, but are\nmerely the medium of its expression; for, strictly speaking, space is as\nforeign to it as time. In this sense the Neo\u2010Platonist Olympiodorus\nalready says in his commentary on Plato\u2019s Alcibiades (Kreuzer\u2019s edition of\nProclus and Olympiodorus, vol. ii. p. 82): \u201c\u03c4\u03bf \u03b5\u03b9\u03b4\u03bf\u03c2 \u03bc\u03b5\u03c4\u03b1\u03b4\u03b5\u03b4\u03c9\u03ba\u03b5 \u03bc\u03b5\u03bd \u03c4\u03b7\u03c2\n\u03bc\u03bf\u03c1\u03c6\u03b7\u03c2 \u03c4\u1fc3 \u1f51\u03bb\u1fc3 \u03b1\u03bc\u03b5\u03c1\u03b5\u03c2 \u03b4\u03b5 \u03bf\u03bd \u03bc\u03b5\u03c4\u03b5\u03bb\u03b1\u03b2\u03b5\u03bd \u03b5\u03be \u03b1\u03c5\u03c4\u03b7\u03c2 \u03c4\u03bf\u03c5 \u03b4\u03b5\u03b1\u03c3\u03c4\u03b1\u03c4\u03bf\u03c5:\u201d _i.e._, the\nIdea, in itself unextended, imparted certainly the form to the matter, but\nfirst assumed extension from it. Thus, as was said, the Ideas reveal not\nthe thing in itself, but only the objective character of things, thus\nstill only the phenomenon; and we would not even understand this character\nif the inner nature of things were not otherwise known to us at least\nobscurely and in feeling. This nature itself cannot be understood from the\nIdeas, nor in general through any merely _objective_ knowledge; therefore\nit would remain an eternal secret if we were not able to approach it from\nan entirely different side. Only because every knowing being is also an\nindividual, and thereby a part of nature, does the approach to the inner\nbeing of nature stand open to him in his own self\u2010consciousness, where, as\nwe have found, it makes itself known in the most immediate manner as will.\n\nNow what the Platonic Idea is, regarded as a merely objective image, mere\nform, and thereby lifted out of time and all relations\u2014that, taken\nempirically and in time, is the _species_ or kind. This, then, is the\nempirical correlative of the Idea. The Idea is properly eternal, but the\nspecies is of endless duration, although its appearance upon one planet\nmay become extinct. Even the names of the two pass over into each other:\n\u03b9\u03b4\u03b5\u03b1, \u03b5\u03b9\u03b4\u03bf\u03c2, _species_, kind. The Idea is the species, but not the genus:\ntherefore the _species_ are the work of nature, the _genera_ the work of\nman; they are mere conceptions. There are _species __ naturales_, but only\n_genera logica_. Of manufactured articles there are no Ideas, but only\nconceptions; thus _genera logica_, and their subordinate classes are\n_species logic\u00e6_. To what is said in this reference in vol. i. \u00a7 41, I\nwill add here that Aristotle also (_Metaph._ i. 9 and xiii. 5) says that\nthe Platonists admitted no ideas of manufactured articles: \u201c\u1f41\u03b9\u03bf\u03bd \u03bf\u03b9\u03ba\u03b9\u03b1,\n\u03ba\u03b1\u03b9 \u03b4\u03b1\u03ba\u03c4\u03c5\u03bb\u03b9\u03bf\u03c2, \u1f61\u03bd \u03bf\u03c5 \u03c6\u03b1\u03c3\u03b9\u03bd \u03b5\u03b9\u03bd\u03b1\u03b9 \u03b5\u03b9\u03b4\u03b7\u201d (_Ut domus et annulus, quorum ideas\ndari negant_). With which compare the Scholiast, p. 562, 563 of the Berlin\nquarto edition. Aristotle further says (_Metaph._ xi. 3): \u201c\u03b1\u03bb\u03bb \u03b5\u03b9\u03c0\u03b5\u03c1\n(Supple., \u03b5\u03b9\u03b4\u1fc3 \u03b5\u03c3\u03c4\u03b9) \u03b5\u03c0\u03b9 \u03c4\u03c9\u03bd \u03c6\u03c5\u03c3\u03b5\u03b9 (\u03b5\u03c3\u03c4\u03b9) \u03b4\u03b9\u03bf \u03b4\u03b7 \u03bf\u03c5 \u03ba\u03b1\u03ba\u03c9\u03c2 \u1f41 \u03a0\u03bb\u03b1\u03c4\u03c9\u03bd \u03b5\u03c6\u03b7,\n\u1f41\u03c4\u03b9 \u03b5\u03b9\u03b4\u03b7 \u03b5\u03c3\u03c4\u03b9 \u1f41\u03c0\u03bf\u03c3\u03b1 \u03c6\u03c5\u03c3\u03b5\u03b9\u201d (_Si quidem ide\u00e6 sunt, in iis sunt, qu\u00e6 natura\nfiunt: propter quod non male Plato dixit, quod species eorum sunt, qu\u00e6\nnatura sunt_). On which the Scholiast remarks, p. 800: \u201c\u03ba\u03b1\u03b9 \u03c4\u03bf\u03c5\u03c4\u03bf \u03b1\u03c1\u03b5\u03c3\u03ba\u03b5\u03b9\n\u03ba\u03b1\u03b9 \u03b1\u03c5\u03c4\u03bf\u03b9\u03c2 \u03c4\u03bf\u03b9\u03c2 \u03c4\u03b1\u03c2 \u03b9\u03b4\u03b5\u03b1\u03c2 \u03b8\u03b5\u03bc\u03b5\u03bd\u03bf\u03b9\u03c2; \u03c4\u03c9\u03bd \u03b3\u03b1\u03c1 \u1f51\u03c0\u03bf \u03c4\u03b5\u03c7\u03bd\u03b7\u03c2 \u03b3\u03b9\u03bd\u03bf\u03bc\u03b5\u03bd\u03c9\u03bd \u03b9\u03b4\u03b5\u03b1\u03c2\n\u03b5\u03b9\u03bd\u03b1\u03b9 \u03bf\u03c5\u03ba \u03b5\u03bb\u03b5\u03b3\u03bf\u03bd, \u03b1\u03bb\u03bb\u03b1 \u03c4\u03c9\u03bd \u1f51\u03c0\u03bf \u03c6\u03c5\u03c3\u03b5\u03c9\u03c2\u201d (_Hoc etiam ipsis ideas\nstatuentibus placet: non enim arte factorum ideas dari ajebant, sed natura\nprocreatorum_). For the rest, the doctrine of Ideas originated with the\nPythagoreans, unless we distrust the assertion of Plutarch in the book,\n_De placitis philosophorum_, L. i. c. 3.\n\nThe individual is rooted in the species, and time in eternity. And as\nevery individual is so only because it has the nature of its species in\nitself, so also it has only temporal existence because it is in eternity.\nIn the following book a special chapter is devoted to the life of the\nspecies.\n\nIn \u00a7 49 of the first volume I have sufficiently brought out the difference\nbetween the Idea and the conception. Their resemblance, on the other hand,\nrests upon the following ground: The original and essential unity of an\nIdea becomes broken up into the multiplicity of individual things through\nthe perception of the knowing individual, which is subject to sensuous and\ncerebral conditions. But that unity is then restored through the\nreflection of the reason, yet only _in abstracto_, as a concept,\n_universale_, which indeed is equal to the Idea in extension, but has\nassumed quite a different _form_, and has thereby lost its perceptible\nnature, and with this its thorough determinateness. In this sense (but in\nno other) we might, in the language of the Scholastics, describe the Ideas\nas _universalia ante rem_, the conceptions as _universalia post rem_.\nBetween the two stand the individual things, the knowledge of which is\npossessed also by the brutes. Without doubt the realism of the Scholastics\narose from the confusion of the Platonic Ideas, to which, since they are\nalso the species, an objective real being can certainly be attributed,\nwith the mere concepts to which the Realists now wished to attribute such\na being, and thereby called forth the victorious opposition of Nominalism.\n\n\n\n\nChapter XXX.(10) On The Pure Subject Of Knowledge.\n\n\nThe comprehension of an Idea, the entrance of it into our consciousness,\nis only possible by means of a change in us, which might also be regarded\nas an act of self\u2010denial; for it consists in this, that knowledge turns\naway altogether from our own will, thus now leaves out of sight entirely\nthe valuable pledge intrusted to it, and considers things as if they could\nnever concern the will at all. For thus alone does knowledge become a pure\nmirror of the objective nature of things. Knowledge conditioned in this\nway must lie at the foundation of every genuine work of art as its origin.\nThe change in the subject which is required for this cannot proceed from\nthe will, just because it consists in the elimination of all volition;\nthus it can be no act of the will, _i.e._, it cannot lie in our choice. On\nthe contrary, it springs only from a temporary preponderance of the\nintellect over the will, or, physiologically considered, from a strong\nexcitement of the perceptive faculty of the brain, without any excitement\nof the desires or emotions. To explain this somewhat more accurately I\nremind the reader that our consciousness has two sides; partly, it is a\nconsciousness of our _own selves_, which is the will; partly a\nconsciousness of other things, and as such primarily, knowledge, _through\nperception_, of the external world, the apprehension of objects. Now the\nmore one side of the whole consciousness comes to the front, the more the\nother side withdraws. Accordingly, the consciousness of _other things_,\nthus knowledge of perception, becomes the more perfect, _i.e._, the more\nobjective, the less we are conscious of ourselves at the time. Here exists\nan actual antagonism. The more we are conscious of the object, the less we\nare conscious of the subject; the more, on the other hand, the latter\noccupies our consciousness, the weaker and more imperfect is our\nperception of the external world. The state which is required for pure\nobjectivity of perception has partly permanent conditions in the\nperfection of the brain and the general physiological qualities favourable\nto its activity, partly temporary conditions, inasmuch as such a state is\nfavoured by all that increases the attention and heightens the\nsusceptibility of the cerebral nervous system, yet without exciting any\npassion. One must not think here of spirituous drinks or opium; what is\nrather required is a night of quiet sleep, a cold bath, and all that\nprocures for the brain activity an unforced predominance by quieting the\ncirculation and calming the passions. It is especially these natural means\nof furthering the cerebral nervous activity which bring it about,\ncertainly so much the better the more developed and energetic in general\nthe brain is, that the object separates itself ever more from the subject,\nand finally introduces the state of pure objectivity of perception, which\nof itself eliminates the will from consciousness, and in which all things\nstand before us with increased clearness and distinctness, so that we are\nconscious almost only of them and scarcely at all of ourselves; thus our\nwhole consciousness is almost nothing more than the medium through which\nthe perceived object appears in the world as an idea. Thus it is necessary\nfor pure, will\u2010less knowledge that the consciousness of ourselves should\nvanish, since the consciousness of other things is raised to such a pitch.\nFor we only apprehend the world in a purely objective manner when we no\nlonger know that we belong to it; and all things appear the more beautiful\nthe more we are conscious merely of them and the less we are conscious of\nourselves. Since now all suffering proceeds from the will, which\nconstitutes the real self, with the withdrawal of this side of\nconsciousness all possibility of suffering is also abolished; therefore\nthe condition of the pure objectivity of perception is one which\nthroughout gives pleasure; and hence I have shown that in it lies one of\nthe two constituent elements of \u00e6sthetic satisfaction. As soon, on the\nother hand, as the consciousness of our own self, thus subjectivity,\n_i.e._, the will, again obtains the upper hand, a proportional degree of\ndiscomfort or unrest also enters; of discomfort, because our corporealness\n(the organism which in itself is the will) is again felt; of unrest,\nbecause the will, on the path of thought, again fills the consciousness\nthrough wishes, emotions, passions, and cares. For the will, as the\nprinciple of subjectivity, is everywhere the opposite, nay, the antagonist\nof knowledge. The greatest concentration of subjectivity consists in the\n_act of will_ proper, in which therefore we have the most distinct\nconsciousness of our own self. All other excitements of the will are only\npreparations for this; the act of will itself is for subjectivity what for\nthe electric apparatus is the passing of the spark. Every bodily sensation\nis in itself an excitement of the will, and indeed oftener of the\n_noluntas_ than of the _voluntas_. The excitement of the will on the path\nof thought is that which occurs by means of motives; thus here the\nsubjectivity is awakened and set in play by the objectivity itself. This\ntakes place whenever any object is apprehended no longer in a purely\nobjective manner, thus without participation in it, but, directly or\nindirectly, excites desire or aversion, even if it is only by means of a\nrecollection, for then it acts as a motive in the widest sense of the\nword.\n\nI remark here that abstract thinking and reading, which are connected with\nwords, belong indeed in the wider sense to the consciousness _of other\nthings_, thus to the objective employment of the mind; yet only\nindirectly, by means of conceptions. But the latter are the artificial\nproduct of the reason, and are therefore already a work of intention.\nMoreover, the will is the ruler of all abstract exercise of the mind, for,\naccording to its aims, it imparts the direction, and also fixes the\nattention; therefore such mental activity is always accompanied by some\neffort; and this presupposes the activity of the will. Thus complete\nobjectivity of consciousness does not exist with this kind of mental\nactivity, as it accompanies the \u00e6sthetic apprehension, _i.e._, the\nknowledge of the Ideas, as a condition.\n\nIn accordance with the above, the pure objectivity of perception, by\nvirtue of which no longer the individual thing as such, but the Idea of\nits species is known, is conditioned by the fact that one is no longer\nconscious of oneself, but only of the perceived objects, so that one\u2019s own\nconsciousness only remains as the supporter of the objective existence of\nthese objects. What increases the difficulty of this state, and therefore\nmakes it more rare, is, that in it the accident (the intellect) overcomes\nand annuls the substance (the will), although only for a short time. Here\nalso lies the analogy and, indeed, the relationship of this with the\ndenial of the will expounded at the end of the following book. Although\nknowledge, as was shown in the preceding book, is sprung from the will and\nis rooted in the manifestation of the will, the organism, yet it is just\nby the will that its purity is disturbed, as the flame is by the fuel and\nits smoke. It depends upon this that we can only apprehend the purely\nobjective nature of things, the Ideas which appear in them, when we have\nourselves no interest in them, because they stand in no relation to our\nwill. From this, again, it arises that the Ideas of anything appeal to us\nmore easily from a work of art than from reality. For what we behold only\nin a picture or in poetry stands outside all possibility of having any\nrelation to our will; for in itself it exists only for knowledge and\nappeals immediately to knowledge alone. On the other hand, the\napprehension of Ideas from reality assumes some measure of abstraction\nfrom our own volition, arising above its interests which demands a special\npower of the intellect. In a high degree, and for some duration, this\nbelongs only to genius, which consists indeed in this, that a greater\nmeasure of the power of knowledge exists than is required for the service\nof an individual will, and this surplus becomes free, and now comprehends\nthe world without reference to the will. Thus that the work of art\nfacilitates so greatly the apprehension of the Ideas, in which \u00e6sthetic\nsatisfaction consists, depends not merely upon the fact that art, by\ngiving prominence to what is essential and eliminating what is\nunessential, presents the things more distinctly and characteristically,\nbut just as much on the fact that the absolute silence of the will, which\nis demanded for the purely objective comprehension of the nature of the\nthings, is attained with the greatest certainty when the perceived object\nitself lies entirely outside the province of things which are capable of\nhaving a relation to the will, because it is nothing real, but a mere\npicture. Now this holds good, not only of the works of plastic and\npictorial art, but also of poetry; the effect of which is also conditioned\nby indifferent, will\u2010less, and thereby purely objective apprehension. It\nis exactly this which makes a perceived object _picturesque_, an event of\nactual life _poetical_; for it is only this that throws over the objects\nof the real world that magic gleam which in the case of sensibly perceived\nobjects is called the picturesque, and in the case of those which are only\nperceived in imagination is called the poetical. If poets sing of the\nblithe morning, the beautiful evening, the still moonlight night, and many\nsuch things, the real object of their praise is, unknown to themselves,\nthe pure subject of knowledge which is called forth by those beauties of\nnature, and on the appearance of which the will vanishes from\nconsciousness, and so that peace of heart enters which, apart from this,\nis unattainable in the world. How otherwise, for example, could the verse\u2014\n\n\n    \u201c_Nox erat, at c\u0153lo fulgebat luna sereno,_\n          _Inter minora sidera_,\u201d\n\n\naffect us so beneficently, nay, so magically? Further, that the stranger\nor the mere passing traveller feels the picturesque or poetical effect of\nobjects which are unable to produce this effect upon those who live among\nthem may be explained from the fact that the novelty and complete\nstrangeness of the objects of such an indifferent, purely objective\napprehension are favourable to it. Thus, for example, the sight of an\nentirely strange town often makes a specially agreeable impression upon\nthe traveller, which it by no means produces in the inhabitant of it; for\nit arises from the fact that the former, being out of all relation to this\ntown and its inhabitants, perceives it purely objectively. Upon this\ndepends partly the pleasure of travelling. This seems also to be the\nreason why it is sought to increase the effect of narrative or dramatic\nworks by transferring the scene to distant times or lands: in Germany, to\nItaly or Spain; in Italy, to Germany, Poland, or even Holland. If now\nperfectly objective, intuitive apprehension, purified from all volition,\nis the condition of the _enjoyment_ of \u00e6sthetic objects, so much the more\nis it the condition of their _production_. Every good picture, every\ngenuine poem, bears the stamp of the frame of mind described. For only\nwhat has sprung from perception, and indeed from purely objective\nperception, or is directly excited by it, contains the living germ from\nwhich genuine and original achievements can grow up: not only in plastic\nand pictorial art, but also in poetry, nay, even in philosophy. The\n_punctum saliens_ of every beautiful work, of every great or profound\nthought, is a purely objective perception. Such perception, however, is\nabsolutely conditioned by the complete silence of the will, which leaves\nthe man simply the pure subject of knowledge. The natural disposition for\nthe predominance of this state is genius.\n\nWith the disappearance of volition from consciousness, the individuality\nalso, and with it its suffering and misery, is really abolished. Therefore\nI have described the pure subject of knowledge which then remains over as\nthe eternal eye of the world, which, although with very different degrees\nof clearness, looks forth from all living creatures, untouched by their\nappearing and passing away, and thus, as identical with itself, as\nconstantly one and the same, is the supporter of the world of permanent\nIdeas, _i.e._, of the adequate objectivity of the will; while the\nindividual subject, whose knowledge is clouded by the individuality which\nsprings from the will, has only particular things as its object, and is\ntransitory as these themselves. In the sense here indicated a double\nexistence may be attributed to every one. As will, and therefore as\nindividual, he is only one, and this one exclusively, which gives him\nenough to do and to suffer. As the purely objective perceiver, he is the\npure subject of knowledge in whose consciousness alone the objective world\nhas its existence; as such he is _all things_ so far as he perceives them.\nand in him is their existence without burden or inconvenience. It is _his_\nexistence, so far as it exists in _his_ idea; but it is there without\nwill. So far, on the other hand, as it is will, it is not in him. It is\nwell with every one when he is in that state in which he is all things; it\nis ill with him when in the state in which he is exclusively one. Every\nstate, every man, every scene of life, requires only to be purely\nobjectively apprehended and be made the subject of a sketch, whether with\npencil or with words, in order to appear interesting, charming, and\nenviable; but if one is in it, if one is it oneself, then (it is often a\ncase of) may the devil endure it. Therefore Goethe says\u2014\n\n\n    \u201cWhat in life doth only grieve us,\n    That in art we gladly see.\u201d\n\n\nThere was a period in the years of my youth when I was always trying to\nsee myself and my action from without, and picture it to myself; probably\nin order to make it more enjoyable to me.\n\nAs I have never spoken before on the subject I have just been considering,\nI wish to add a psychological illustration of it.\n\nIn the immediate perception of the world and of life we consider things,\nas a rule, merely in their relations, consequently according to their\nrelative and not their absolute nature and existence. For example, we will\nregard houses, ships, machines, and the like with the thought of their end\nand their adaptation to it; men, with the thought of their relation to us,\nif they have any such; and then with that of their relations to each\nother, whether in their present action or with regard to their position\nand business, judging perhaps their fitness for it, &c. Such a\nconsideration of the relations we can follow more or less far to the most\ndistant links of their chain: the consideration will thereby gain in\naccuracy and extent, but in its quality and nature it remains the same. It\nis the consideration of things in their relations, nay, _by means of\nthese_, thus according to the principle of sufficient reason. Every one,\nfor the most part and as a rule, is given up to this method of\nconsideration; indeed I believe that most men are capable of no other. But\nif, as an exception, it happens that we experience a momentary heightening\nof the intensity of our intuitive intelligence, we at once see things with\nentirely different eyes, in that we now apprehend them no longer according\nto their relations, but according to that which they are in and for\nthemselves, and suddenly perceive their absolute existence apart from\ntheir relative existence. At once every individual represents its species;\nand accordingly we now apprehend the universal of every being. Now what we\nthus know are the _Ideas of things_; but out of these there now speaks a\nhigher wisdom than that which knows of mere relations. And we also have\nthen passed out of the relations, and have thus become the pure subject of\nknowledge. But what now exceptionally brings about this state must be\ninternal physiological processes, which purify the activity of the brain,\nand heighten it to such a degree that a sudden spring\u2010tide of activity\nlike this ensues. The external conditions of this are that we remain\ncompletely strange to the scene to be considered, and separated from it,\nand are absolutely not actively involved in it.\n\nIn order to see that a purely objective, and therefore correct,\ncomprehension of things is only possible when we consider them without any\npersonal participation in them, thus when the will is perfectly silent,\nlet one call to mind how much every emotion or passion disturbs and\nfalsifies our knowledge, indeed how every inclination and aversion alters,\ncolours, and distorts not only the judgment, but even the original\nperception of things. Let one remember how when we are gladdened by some\nfortunate occurrence the whole world at once assumes a bright colour and a\nsmiling aspect, and, on the contrary, looks gloomy and sad when we are\npressed with cares; also, how even a lifeless thing, if it is to be made\nuse of in doing something which we abhor, seems to have a hideous\nphysiognomy; for example, the scaffold, the fortress, to which we have\nbeen brought, the surgeon\u2019s cases of instruments; the travelling carriage\nof our loved one, &c., nay, numbers, letters, seals, may seem to grin upon\nus horribly and affect us as fearful monstrosities. On the other hand, the\ntools for the accomplishment of our wishes at once appear to us agreeable\nand pleasing; for example, the hump\u2010backed old woman with the love\u2010letter,\nthe Jew with the louis d\u2019ors, the rope\u2010ladder to escape by, &c. As now\nhere the falsification of the idea through the will in the case of special\nabhorrence or love is unmistakable, so is it present in a less degree in\nevery object which has any even distant relation to our will, that is, to\nour desire or aversion. Only when the will with its interests has left\nconsciousness, and the intellect freely follows its own laws, and as pure\nsubject mirrors the objective world, yet in doing so, although spurred on\nby no volition, is of its own inclination in the highest state of tension\nand activity, do the colours and forms of things appear in their true and\nfull significance. Thus it is from such comprehension alone that genuine\nworks of art can proceed whose permanent worth and ever renewed approval\narises simply from the fact that they express the purely objective\nelement, which lies at the foundation of and shines through the different\nsubjective, and therefore distorted, perceptions, as that which is common\nto them all and alone stands fast; as it were the common theme of all\nthose subjective variations. For certainly the nature which is displayed\nbefore our eyes exhibits itself very differently in different minds; and\nas each one sees it so alone can he repeat it, whether with the pencil or\nthe chisel, or with words and gestures on the stage. Objectivity alone\nmakes one capable of being an artist; but objectivity is only possible in\nthis way, that the intellect, separated from its root the will, moves\nfreely, and yet acts with the highest degree of energy.\n\nTo the youth whose perceptive intellect still acts with fresh energy\nnature often exhibits itself with complete objectivity, and therefore with\nperfect beauty. But the pleasure of such a glance is sometimes disturbed\nby the saddening reflection that the objects present which exhibit\nthemselves in such beauty do not stand in a personal relation to this\nwill, by virtue of which they could interest and delight him; he expects\nhis life in the form of an interesting romance. \u201cBehind that jutting cliff\nthe well\u2010mounted band of friends should await me,\u2014beside that waterfall my\nlove should rest; this beautifully lighted building should be her\ndwelling, and that vine\u2010clad window hers;\u2014but this beautiful world is for\nme a desert!\u201d and so on. Such melancholy youthful reveries really demand\nsomething exactly contradictory to themselves; for the beauty with which\nthose objects present themselves depends just upon the pure objectivity,\n_i.e._, disinterestedness of their perception, and would therefore at once\nbe abolished by the relation to his own will which the youth painfully\nmisses, and thus the whole charm which now affords him pleasure, even\nthough alloyed with a certain admixture of pain, would cease to exist. The\nsame holds good, moreover, of every age and every relation; the beauty of\nthe objects of a landscape which now delights us would vanish if we stood\nin personal relations to them, of which we remained always conscious.\nEverything is beautiful only so long as it does not concern us. (We are\nnot speaking here of sensual passion, but of \u00e6sthetic pleasure.) Life is\nnever beautiful, but only the pictures of life are so in the transfiguring\nmirror of art or poetry; especially in youth, when we do not yet know it.\nMany a youth would receive great peace of mind if one could assist him to\nthis knowledge.\n\nWhy has the sight of the full moon such a beneficent, quieting, and\nexalting effect? Because the moon is an object of perception, but never of\ndesire:\n\n\n    \u201cThe stars we yearn not after\n    Delight us with their glory.\u201d\u2014G.\n\n\nFurther, it is sublime, _i.e._, it induces a lofty mood in us, because,\nwithout any relation to us, it moves along for ever strange to earthly\ndoings, and sees all while it takes part in nothing. Therefore, at the\nsight of it the will, with its constant neediness, vanishes from\nconsciousness, and leaves a purely knowing consciousness behind. Perhaps\nthere is also mingled here a feeling that we share this sight with\nmillions, whose individual differences are therein extinguished, so that\nin this perception they are one, which certainly increases the impression\nof the sublime. Finally, this is also furthered by the fact that the moon\nlights without heating, in which certainly lies the reason why it has been\ncalled chaste and identified with Diana. In consequence of this whole\nbeneficent impression upon our feeling, the moon becomes gradually our\nbosom friend. The sun, again, never does so; but is like an over\u2010plenteous\nbenefactor whom we can never look in the face.\n\nThe following remark may find room here as an addition to what is said in\n\u00a7 38 of the first volume on the \u00e6sthetic pleasure afforded by light,\nreflection, and colours. The whole immediate, thoughtless, but also\nunspeakable, pleasure which is excited in us by the impression of colours,\nstrengthened by the gleam of metal, and still more by transparency, as,\nfor example, in coloured windows, and in a greater measure by means of the\nclouds and their reflection at sunset,\u2014ultimately depends upon the fact\nthat here in the easiest manner, almost by a physical necessity, our whole\ninterest is won for knowledge, without any excitement of our will, so that\nwe enter the state of pure knowing, although for the most part this\nconsists here in a mere sensation of the affection of the retina, which,\nhowever, as it is in itself perfectly free from pain or pleasure, and\ntherefore entirely without direct influence on the will, thus belongs to\npure knowledge.\n\n\n\n\nChapter XXXI.(11) On Genius.\n\n\nWhat is properly denoted by the name genius is the predominating capacity\nfor that kind of knowledge which has been described in the two preceding\nchapters, the knowledge from which all genuine works of art and poetry,\nand even of philosophy, proceed. Accordingly, since this has for its\nobjects the Platonic Ideas, and these are not comprehended in the\nabstract, but _only perceptibly_, the essence of genius must lie in the\nperfection and energy of the knowledge of _perception_. Corresponding to\nthis, the works which we hear most decidedly designated works of genius\nare those which start immediately from perception and devote themselves to\nperception; thus those of plastic and pictorial art, and then those of\npoetry, which gets its perceptions by the assistance of the imagination.\nThe difference between genius and mere talent makes itself noticeable even\nhere. For talent is an excellence which lies rather in the greater\nversatility and acuteness of discursive than of intuitive knowledge. He\nwho is endowed with talent thinks more quickly and more correctly than\nothers; but the genius beholds another world from them all, although only\nbecause he has a more profound perception of the world which lies before\nthem also, in that it presents itself in his mind more objectively, and\nconsequently in greater purity and distinctness.\n\nThe intellect is, according to its destination, merely the medium of\nmotives; and in accordance with this it originally comprehends nothing in\nthings but their relations to the will, the direct, the indirect, and the\npossible. In the case of the brutes, where it is almost entirely confined\nto the direct relations, the matter is just on that account most apparent:\nwhat has no relation to their will does not exist for them. Therefore we\nsometimes see with surprise that even clever animals do not observe at all\nsomething conspicuous to them; for example, they show no surprise at\nobvious alterations in our person and surroundings. In the case of normal\nmen the indirect, and even the possible, relations to the will are added,\nthe sum of which make up the total of useful knowledge; but here also\nknowledge remains confined to the relations. Therefore the normal mind\ndoes not attain to an absolutely pure, objective picture of things,\nbecause its power of perception, whenever it is not spurred on by the will\nand set in motion, at once becomes tired and inactive, because it has not\nenough energy of its own elasticity and without an end in view to\napprehend the world in a purely objective manner. Where, on the other\nhand, this takes place\u2014where the brain has such a surplus of the power of\nideation that a pure, distinct, objective image of the external world\nexhibits itself _without any aim_; an image which is useless for the\nintentions of the will, indeed, in the higher degrees, disturbing, and\neven injurious to them\u2014there, the natural disposition, at least, is\nalready present for that abnormity which the name genius denotes, which\nsignifies that here a _genius_ foreign to the will, _i.e._, to the I\nproper, as it were coming from without, seems to be active. But to speak\nwithout a figure: genius consists in this, that the knowing faculty has\nreceived a considerably greater development than the _service of the\nwill_, for which alone it originally appeared, demands. Therefore,\nstrictly speaking, physiology might to a certain extent class such a\nsuperfluity of brain activity, and with it of brain itself, among the\n_monstra per excessum_, which, it is well known, it co\u2010ordinates with\n_monstra per defectum_ and those _per situm mutatum_. Thus genius consists\nin an abnormally large measure of intellect, which can only find its use\nby being applied to the universal of existence, whereby it then devotes\nitself to the service of the whole human race, as the normal intellect to\nthat of the individual. In order to make this perfectly comprehensible one\nmight say: if the normal man consists of two\u2010thirds will and one\u2010third\nintellect, the genius, on the contrary, has two\u2010thirds intellect and one\u2010\nthird will. This might, then, be further illustrated by a chemical simile:\nthe base and the acid of a neutral salt are distinguished by the fact that\nin each of the two the radical has the converse relation to oxygen to that\nwhich it has in the other. The base or the alkali is so because in it the\nradical predominates with reference to oxygen, and the acid is so because\nin it oxygen predominates. In the same way now the normal man and the\ngenius are related in respect of will and intellect. From this arises a\nthorough distinction between them, which is visible even in their whole\nnature and behaviour, but comes out most clearly in their achievements.\nOne might add the difference that while that total opposition between the\nchemical materials forms the strongest affinity and attraction between\nthem, in the human race the opposite is rather wont to be found.\n\nThe first manifestation which such a superfluity of the power of knowledge\ncalls forth shows itself for the most part in the most original and\nfundamental knowledge, _i.e._, in knowledge of _perception_, and occasions\nthe repetition of it in an image; hence arises the painter and the\nsculptor. In their case, then, the path between the apprehension of genius\nand the artistic production is the shortest; therefore the form in which\ngenius and its activity here exhibits itself is the simplest and its\ndescription the easiest. Yet here also the source is shown from which all\ngenuine productions in every art, in poetry, and indeed in philosophy,\nhave their origin, although in the case of these the process is not so\nsimple.\n\nLet the result arrived at in the first book be here borne in mind, that\nall perception is intellectual and not merely sensuous. If one now adds\nthe exposition given here, and, at the same time, in justice considers\nthat the philosophy of last century denoted the perceptive faculty of\nknowledge by the name \u201clower powers of the soul,\u201d we will not think it so\nutterly absurd nor so deserving of the bitter scorn with which Jean Paul\nquotes it in his \u201c_Vorschule der \u00c6sthetik_,\u201d that Adelung, who had to\nspeak the language of his age, placed genius in \u201ca remarkable strength of\nthe lower powers of the soul.\u201d The work just referred to of this author,\nwho is so worthy of our admiration, has great excellences, but yet I must\nremark that all through, whenever a theoretical explanation and, in\ngeneral, instruction is the end in view, a style of exposition which is\nconstantly indulging in displays of wit and hurrying along in mere similes\ncannot be well adapted to the purpose.\n\nIt is, then, _perception_ to which primarily the peculiar and true nature\nof things, although still in a conditioned manner, discloses and reveals\nitself. All conceptions and everything thought are mere abstractions,\nconsequently partial ideas taken from perception, and have only arisen by\nthinking away. All profound knowledge, even wisdom properly so called, is\nrooted in the _perceptive_ apprehension of things, as we have fully\nconsidered in the supplements to the first book. A _perceptive_\napprehension has always been the generative process in which every genuine\nwork of art, every immortal thought, received the spark of life. All\nprimary thought takes place in pictures. From conceptions, on the other\nhand, arise the works of mere talent, the merely rational thoughts,\nimitations, and indeed all that is calculated merely with reference to the\npresent need and contemporary conditions.\n\nBut if now our perception were constantly bound to the real present of\nthings, its material would be entirely under the dominion of chance, which\nseldom produces things at the right time, seldom arranges them for an end\nand for the most part presents them to us in very defective examples.\nTherefore the _imagination_ is required in order to complete, arrange,\ngive the finishing touches to, retain, and repeat at pleasure all those\nsignificant pictures of life, according as the aims of a profoundly\npenetrating knowledge and of the significant work whereby they are to be\ncommunicated may demand. Upon this rests the high value of imagination,\nwhich is an indispensable tool of genius. For only by virtue of\nimagination can genius ever, according to the requirements of the\nconnection of its painting or poetry or thinking, call up to itself each\nobject or event in a lively image, and thus constantly draw fresh\nnourishment from the primary source of all knowledge, perception. The man\nwho is endowed with imagination is able, as it were, to call up spirits,\nwho at the right time reveal to him the truths which the naked reality of\nthings exhibits only weakly, rarely, and then for the most part at the\nwrong time. Therefore the man without imagination is related to him, as\nthe mussel fastened to its rock, which must wait for what chance may bring\nit, is related to the freely moving or even winged animal. For such a man\nknows nothing but the actual perception of the senses: till it comes he\ngnaws at conceptions and abstractions which are yet mere shells and husks,\nnot the kernel of knowledge. He will never achieve anything great, unless\nit be in calculating and mathematics. The works of plastic and pictorial\nart and of poetry, as also the achievements of mimicry, may also be\nregarded as means by which those who have no imagination may make up for\nthis defect as far as possible, and those who are gifted with it may\nfacilitate the use of it.\n\nThus, although the kind of knowledge which is peculiar and essential to\ngenius is knowledge of _perception_, yet the special object of this\nknowledge by no means consists of the particular things, but of the\nPlatonic Ideas which manifest themselves in these, as their apprehension\nwas analysed in chapter 29. Always to see the universal in the particular\nis just the fundamental characteristic of genius, while the normal man\nknows in the particular only the particular as such, for only as such does\nit belong to the actual which alone has interests for him, _i.e._,\nrelations to his _will_. The degree in which every one not merely thinks,\nbut actually perceives, in the particular thing, only the particular, or a\nmore or less universal up to the most universal of the species, is the\nmeasure of his approach to genius. And corresponding to this, only the\nnature of things generally, the universal in them, the whole, is the\nspecial object of genius. The investigation of the particular phenomena is\nthe field of the talents, in the real sciences, whose special object is\nalways only the relations of things to each other.\n\nWhat was fully shown in the preceding chapter, that the apprehension of\nthe Ideas is conditioned by the fact that the knower is the _pure subject_\nof knowledge, _i.e._, that the will entirely vanishes from consciousness,\nmust be borne in mind here. The pleasure which we have in many of Goethe\u2019s\nsongs which bring the landscape before our eyes, or in Jean Paul\u2019s\nsketches of nature, depends upon the fact that we thereby participate in\nthe objectivity of those minds, _i.e._, the purity with which in them the\nworld as idea separated from the world as will, and, as it were, entirely\nemancipated itself from it. It also follows from the fact that the kind of\nknowledge peculiar to genius is essentially that which is purified from\nall will and its relations, that the works of genius do not proceed from\nintention or choice, but it is guided in them by a kind of instinctive\nnecessity. What is called the awaking of genius, the hour of initiation,\nthe moment of inspiration, is nothing but the attainment of freedom by the\nintellect, when, delivered for a while from its service under the will, it\ndoes not now sink into inactivity or lassitude, but is active for a short\ntime entirely alone and spontaneously. Then it is of the greatest purity,\nand becomes the clear mirror of the world; for, completely severed from\nits origin, the will, it is now the world as idea itself, concentrated in\n_one_ consciousness. In such moments, as it were, the souls of immortal\nworks are begotten. On the other hand, in all intentional reflection the\nintellect is not free, for indeed the will guides it and prescribes it its\ntheme.\n\nThe stamp of commonness, the expression of vulgarity, which is impressed\non the great majority of countenances consists really in this, that in\nthem becomes visible the strict subordination of their knowledge to their\nwill, the firm chain which binds these two together, and the impossibility\nfollowing from this of apprehending things otherwise than in their\nrelation to the will and its aims. On the other hand, the expression of\ngenius which constitutes the evident family likeness of all highly gifted\nmen consists in this, that in it we distinctly read the liberation, the\nmanumission of the intellect from the service of the will, the\npredominance of knowledge over volition; and because all anxiety proceeds\nfrom the will, and knowledge, on the contrary, is in and for itself\npainless and serene, this gives to their lofty brow and clear, perceiving\nglance, which are not subject to the service of the will and its wants,\nthat look of great, almost supernatural serenity which at times breaks\nthrough, and consists very well with the melancholy of their other\nfeatures, especially the mouth, and which in this relation may be aptly\ndescribed by the motto of Giordano Bruno: _In tristitia hilaris, in\nhilaritate tristis_.\n\nThe will, which is the root of the intellect, opposes itself to any\nactivity of the latter which is directed to anything else but its own\naims. Therefore the intellect is only capable of a purely objective and\nprofound comprehension of the external world when it has freed itself at\nleast for a while from this its root. So long as it remains bound to the\nwill, it is of its own means capable of no activity, but sleeps in a\nstupor, whenever the will (the interests) does not awake it, and set it in\nmotion. If, however, this happens, it is indeed very well fitted to\nrecognise the relations of things according to the interest of the will,\nas the prudent mind does, which, however, must always be an awakened mind,\n_i.e._, a mind actively aroused by volition; but just on this account it\nis not capable of comprehending the purely objective nature of things. For\nthe willing and the aims make it so one\u2010sided that it sees in things only\nthat which relates to these, and the rest either disappears or enters\nconsciousness in a falsified form. For example, the traveller in anxiety\nand haste will see the Rhine and its banks only as a line, and the bridges\nover it only as lines cutting it. In the mind of the man who is filled\nwith his own aims the world appears as a beautiful landscape appears on\nthe plan of a battlefield. Certainly these are extremes, taken for the\nsake of distinctness; but every excitement of the will, however slight,\nwill have as its consequence a slight but constantly proportionate\nfalsification of knowledge. The world can only appear in its true colour\nand form, in its whole and correct significance, when the intellect,\ndevoid of willing, moves freely over the objects, and without being driven\non by the will is yet energetically active. This is certainly opposed to\nthe nature and determination of the intellect, thus to a certain extent\nunnatural, and just on this account exceedingly rare; but it is just in\nthis that the essential nature of genius lies, in which alone that\ncondition takes place in a high degree and is of some duration, while in\nothers it only appears approximately and exceptionally. I take it to be in\nthe sense expounded here that Jean Paul (_Vorschule der \u00c6sthetik_, \u00a7 12)\nplaces the essence of genius in _reflectiveness_. The normal man is sunk\nin the whirl and tumult of life, to which he belongs through his will; his\nintellect is filled with the things and events of life; but he does not\nknow these things nor life itself in their objective significance; as the\nmerchant on \u2019Change in Amsterdam apprehends perfectly what his neighbour\nsays, but does not hear the hum of the whole Exchange, like the sound of\nthe sea, which astonishes the distant observer. From the genius, on the\ncontrary, whose intellect is delivered from the will, and thus from the\nperson, what concerns these does not conceal the world and things\nthemselves; but he becomes distinctly conscious of them, he apprehends\nthem in and for themselves in objective perception; in this sense he is\n_reflective_.\n\nIt is _reflectiveness_ which enables the painter to repeat the natural\nobjects which he contemplates faithfully upon the canvas, and the poet\naccurately to call up again the concrete present, by means of abstract\nconceptions, by giving it utterance and so bringing it to distinct\nconsciousness, and also to express everything in words which others only\nfeel. The brute lives entirely without reflection. It has consciousness,\n_i.e._, it knows itself and its good and ill, also the objects which\noccasion these. But its knowledge remains always subjective, never becomes\nobjective; everything that enters it seems a matter of course, and\ntherefore can never become for it a theme (an object of exposition) nor a\nproblem (an object of meditation). Its consciousness is thus entirely\n_immanent_. Not certainly the same, but yet of kindred nature, is the\nconsciousness of the common type of man, for his apprehension also of\nthings and the world is predominantly subjective and remains prevalently\nimmanent. It apprehends the things in the world, but not the world; its\nown action and suffering, but not itself. As now in innumerable gradations\nthe distinctness of consciousness rises, reflectiveness appears more and\nmore; and thus it is brought about little by little that sometimes, though\nrarely, and then again in very different degrees of distinctness, the\nquestion passes through the mind like a flash, \u201cWhat is all this?\u201d or\nagain, \u201cHow is it really fashioned?\u201d The first question, if it attains\ngreat distinctness and continued presence, will make the philosopher, and\nthe other, under the same conditions, the artist or the poet. Therefore,\nthen, the high calling of both of these has its root in the reflectiveness\nwhich primarily springs from the distinctness with which they are\nconscious of the world and their own selves, and thereby come to reflect\nupon them. But the whole process springs from the fact that the intellect\nthrough its preponderance frees itself for a time from the will, to which\nit is originally subject.\n\nThe considerations concerning genius here set forth are connected by way\nof supplement with the exposition contained in chapter 21, of the _ever\nwider separation of the will and the intellect_, which can be traced in\nthe whole series of existences. This reaches its highest grade in genius,\nwhere it extends to the entire liberation of the intellect from its root\nthe will, so that here the intellect becomes perfectly free, whereby the\n_world as idea_ first attains to complete objectification.\n\nA few remarks now concerning the individuality of genius. Aristotle has\nalready said, according to Cicero (_Tusc._, i. 33), \u201c_Omnes ingeniosos\nmelancholicos esse_;\u201d which without doubt is connected with the passage of\nAristotle\u2019s \u201c_Problemata_,\u201d xxx. 1. Goethe also says: \u201cMy poetic rapture\nwas very small, so long as I only encountered good; but it burnt with a\nbright flame when I fled from threatening evil. The tender poem, like the\nrainbow, is only drawn on a dark ground; hence the genius of the poet\nloves the element of melancholy.\u201d\n\nThis is to be explained from the fact that since the will constantly re\u2010\nestablishes its original sway over the intellect, the latter more easily\nwithdraws from this under unfavourable personal relations; because it\ngladly turns from adverse circumstances, in order to a certain extent to\ndivert itself, and now directs itself with so much the greater energy to\nthe foreign external world, thus more easily becomes purely objective.\nFavourable personal relations act conversely. Yet as a whole and in\ngeneral the melancholy which accompanies genius depends upon the fact that\nthe brighter the intellect which enlightens the will to live, the more\ndistinctly does it perceive the misery of its condition. The melancholy\ndisposition of highly gifted minds which has so often been observed has\nits emblem in Mont Blanc, the summit of which is for the most part lost in\nclouds; but when sometimes, especially in the early morning, the veil of\nclouds is rent and now the mountain looks down on Chamounix from its\nheight in the heavens above the clouds, then it is a sight at which the\nheart of each of us swells from its profoundest depths. So also the\ngenius, for the most part melancholy, shows at times that peculiar\nserenity already described above, which is possible only for it, and\nsprings from the most perfect objectivity of the mind. It floats like a\nray of light upon his lofty brow: _In tristitia hilaris, in hilaritate\ntristis_.\n\nAll bunglers are so ultimately because their intellect, still too firmly\nbound to the will, only becomes active when spurred on by it, and\ntherefore remains entirely in its service. They are accordingly only\ncapable of personal aims. In conformity with these they produce bad\npictures, insipid poems, shallow, absurd, and very often dishonest\nphilosophemes, when it is to their interest to recommend themselves to\nhigh authorities by a pious disingenuousness. Thus all their action and\nthought is personal. Therefore they succeed at most in appropriating what\nis external, accidental, and arbitrary in the genuine works of others as\nmannerisms, in doing which they take the shell instead of the kernel, and\nyet imagine they have attained to everything, nay, have surpassed those\nworks. If, however, the failure is patent, yet many hope to attain success\nin the end through their good intentions. But it is just this good will\nwhich makes success impossible; because this only pursues personal ends,\nand with these neither art nor poetry nor philosophy can ever be taken\nseriously. Therefore the saying is peculiarly applicable to such persons:\n\u201cThey stand in their own light.\u201d They have no idea that it is only the\nintellect delivered from the government of the will and all its projects,\nand therefore freely active, that makes one capable of genuine\nproductions, because it alone imparts true seriousness; and it is well for\nthem that they have not, otherwise they would leap into the water. The\n_good will_ is in _morality_ everything; but in art it is nothing. In art,\nas the word itself indicates (_Kunst_), what alone is of consequence is\nability (_K\u00f6nnen_). It all amounts ultimately to this, where the true\n_seriousness_ of the man lies. In almost all it lies exclusively in their\nown well\u2010being and that of their families; therefore they are in a\nposition to promote this and nothing else; for no purpose, no voluntary\nand intentional effort, imparts the true, profound, and proper\nseriousness, or makes up for it, or more correctly, takes its place. For\nit always remains where nature has placed it; and without it everything is\nonly half performed. Therefore, for the same reason, persons of genius\noften manage so badly for their own welfare. As a leaden weight always\nbrings a body back to the position which its centre of gravity thereby\ndetermined demands, so the true seriousness of the man always draws the\nstrength and attention of the intellect back to that in which it lies;\neverything else the man does _without true seriousness_. Therefore only\nthe exceedingly rare and abnormal men whose true seriousness does not lie\nin the personal and practical, but in the objective and theoretical, are\nin a position to apprehend what is essential in the things of the world,\nthus the highest truths, and reproduce them in any way. For such a\nseriousness of the individual, falling outside himself in the objective,\nis something foreign to the nature of man, something unnatural, or really\nsupernatural: yet on account of this alone is the man _great_; and\ntherefore what he achieves is then ascribed to a _genius_ different from\nhimself, which takes possession of him. To such a man his painting,\npoetry, or thinking is an _end_; to others it is a _means_. The latter\nthereby seek their own things, and, as a rule, they know how to further\nthem, for they flatter their contemporaries, ready to serve their wants\nand humours; therefore for the most part they live in happy circumstances;\nthe former often in very miserable circumstances. For he sacrifices his\npersonal welfare to his _objective end_; he cannot indeed do otherwise,\nbecause his seriousness lies there. They act conversely; therefore they\nare _small_, but he is _great_. Accordingly his work is for all time, but\nthe recognition of it generally only begins with posterity: they live and\ndie with their time. In general he only is great who in his work, whether\nit is practical or theoretical, seeks _not his own concerns_, but pursues\nan _objective end_ alone; he is so, however, even when in the practical\nsphere this end is a misunderstood one, and even if in consequence of this\nit should be a crime. _That he seeks not himself and his own concerns_,\nthis makes him under all circumstances _great_. _Small_, on the other\nhand, is all action which is directed to personal ends; for whoever is\nthereby set in activity knows and finds himself only in his own transient\nand insignificant person. He who is great, again, finds himself in all,\nand therefore in the whole: he lives not, like others, only in the\nmicrocosm, but still more in the macrocosm. Hence the whole interests him,\nand he seeks to comprehend it in order to represent it, or to explain it,\nor to act practically upon it. For it is not strange to him; he feels that\nit concerns him. On account of this extension of his sphere he is called\n_great_. Therefore that lofty predicate belongs only to the true hero, in\nsome sense, and to genius: it signifies that they, contrary to human\nnature, have not sought their own things, have not lived for themselves,\nbut for all. As now clearly the great majority must _constantly_ be small,\nand can _never_ become great, the converse of this, that one should be\ngreat throughout, that is, constantly and every moment, is yet not\npossible\u2014\n\n\n    \u201cFor man is made of common clay,\n    And custom is his nurse.\u201d\n\n\nEvery great man must often be only the individual, have only himself in\nview, and that means he must be small. Upon this depends the very true\nremark, that no man is a hero to his valet, and not upon the fact that the\nvalet cannot appreciate the hero; which Goethe, in the\n\u201c_Wahlverwandhschaften_\u201d (vol. ii. chap. 5), serves up as an idea of\nOttilie\u2019s.\n\nGenius is its own reward: for the best that one is, one must necessarily\nbe for oneself. \u201cWhoever is born with a talent, to a talent, finds in this\nhis fairest existence,\u201d says Goethe. When we look back at a great man of\nformer times, we do not think, \u201cHow happy is he to be still admired by all\nof us!\u201d but, \u201cHow happy must he have been in the immediate enjoyment of a\nmind at the surviving traces of which centuries revive themselves!\u201d Not in\nthe fame, but in that whereby it is attained, lies the value, and in the\nproduction of immortal children the pleasure. Therefore those who seek to\nshow the vanity of posthumous fame from the fact that he who obtains it\nknows nothing of it, may be compared to the wiseacre who very learnedly\ntried to demonstrate to the man who cast envious glances at a heap of\noyster\u2010shells in his neighbour\u2019s yard the absolute uselessness of them.\n\nAccording to the exposition of the nature of genius which has been given,\nit is so far contrary to nature, inasmuch as it consists in this, that the\nintellect, whose real destination is the service of the will, emancipates\nitself from this service in order to be active on its own account.\nAccordingly genius is an intellect which has become untrue to its\ndestination. Upon this depend the _disadvantages_ connected with it, for\nthe consideration of which we shall now prepare the way by comparing\ngenius with the less decided predominance of the intellect.\n\nThe intellect of the normal man, strictly bound to the service of the\nwill, and therefore really only occupied with the apprehension of motives,\nmay be regarded as a complex system of wires, by means of which each of\nthese puppets is set in motion in the theatre of the world. From this\narises the dry, grave seriousness of most people, which is only surpassed\nby that of the brutes, who never laugh. On the other hand, we might\ncompare the genius, with his unfettered intellect, to a living man playing\nalong with the large puppets of the famous puppet\u2010show at Milan, who would\nbe the only one among them who would understand everything, and would\ntherefore gladly leave the stage for a while to enjoy the play from the\nboxes;\u2014that is the reflectiveness of genius. But even the man of great\nunderstanding and reason, whom one might almost call wise, is very\ndifferent from the genius, and in this way, that his intellect retains a\n_practical_ tendency, is concerned with the choice of the best ends and\nmeans, therefore remains in the service of the will, and accordingly is\noccupied in a manner that is thoroughly in keeping with nature. The firm,\npractical seriousness of life which the Romans denoted _gravitas_\npresupposes that the intellect does not forsake the service of the will in\norder to wander away after that which does not concern the will; therefore\nit does not admit of that separation of the will and the intellect which\nis the condition of genius. The able, nay, eminent man, who is fitted for\ngreat achievements in the practical sphere, is so precisely because\nobjects rouse his will in a lively manner, and spur him on to the\nceaseless investigation of their relations and connections. Thus his\nintellect has grown up closely connected with his will. Before the man of\ngenius, on the contrary, there floats in his objective comprehension the\nphenomenon of the world, as something foreign to him, an object of\ncontemplation, which expels his will from consciousness. Round this point\nturns the distinction between the capacity for _deeds_ and for _works_.\nThe latter demand objectivity and depth of knowledge, which presupposes\nentire separation of the intellect from the will; the former, on the other\nhand, demands the application of knowledge, presence of mind, and\ndecision, which required that the intellect should uninterruptedly attend\nto the service of the will. Where the bond between the intellect and the\nwill is loosened, the intellect, turned away from its natural destination,\nwill neglect the service of the will; it will, for example, even in the\nneed of the moment, preserve its emancipation, and perhaps be unable to\navoid taking in the picturesque impression of the surroundings, from which\ndanger threatens the individual. The intellect of the reasonable and\nunderstanding man, on the other hand, is constantly at its post, is\ndirected to the circumstances and their requirements. Such a man will\ntherefore in all cases determine and carry out what is suitable to the\ncase, and consequently will by no means fall into those eccentricities,\npersonal slips, nay, follies, to which the genius is exposed, because his\nintellect does not remain exclusively the guide and guardian of his will,\nbut sometimes more, sometimes less, is laid claim to by the purely\nobjective. In the contrast of Tasso and Antonio, Goethe has illustrated\nthe opposition, here explained in the abstract, in which these two\nentirely different kinds of capacity stand to each other. The kinship of\ngenius and madness, so often observed, depends chiefly upon that\nseparation of the intellect from the will which is essential to genius,\nbut is yet contrary to nature. But this separation itself is by no means\nto be attributed to the fact that genius is accompanied by less intensity\nof will; for it is rather distinguished by a vehement and passionate\ncharacter; but it is to be explained from this, that the practically\nexcellent person, the man of deeds, has merely the whole, full measure of\nintellect required for an energetic will while most men lack even this;\nbut genius consists in a completely abnormal, actual superfluity of\nintellect, such as is required for the service of no will. On this account\nthe men of genuine works are a thousand times rarer than the men of deeds.\nIt is just that abnormal superfluity of intellect by virtue of which it\nobtains the decided preponderance, sets itself free from the will, and\nnow, forgetting its origin, is freely active from its own strength and\nelasticity; and from this the creations of genius proceed.\n\nNow further, just this, that genius in working consists of the free\nintellect, _i.e._, of the intellect emancipated from the service of the\nwill, has as a consequence that its productions serve no useful ends. The\nwork of genius is music, or philosophy, or paintings, or poetry; it is\nnothing to use. To be of no use belongs to the character of the works of\ngenius; it is their patent of nobility. All other works of men are for the\nmaintenance or easing of our existence; only those we are speaking of are\nnot; they alone exist for their own sake, and are in this sense to be\nregarded as the flower or the net profit of existence. Therefore our heart\nswells at the enjoyment of them, for we rise out of the heavy earthly\natmosphere of want. Analogous to this, we see the beautiful, even apart\nfrom these, rarely combined with the useful. Lofty and beautiful trees\nbear no fruit; the fruit\u2010trees are small, ugly cripples. The full garden\nrose is not fruitful, but the small, wild, almost scentless roses are. The\nmost beautiful buildings are not the useful ones; a temple is no dwelling\u2010\nhouse. A man of high, rare mental endowments compelled to apply himself to\na merely useful business, for which the most ordinary man would be fitted,\nis like a costly vase decorated with the most beautiful painting which is\nused as a kitchen pot; and to compare useful people with men of genius is\nlike comparing building\u2010stone with diamonds.\n\nThus the merely practical man uses his intellect for that for which nature\ndestined it, the comprehension of the relations of things, partly to each\nother, partly to the will of the knowing individual. The genius, on the\nother hand, uses it, contrary to its destination, for the comprehension of\nthe objective nature of things. His mind, therefore, belongs not to\nhimself, but to the world, to the illumination of which, in some sense, it\nwill contribute. From this must spring manifold _disadvantages_ to the\nindividual favoured with genius. For his intellect will in general show\nthose faults which are rarely wanting in any tool which is used for that\nfor which it has not been made. First of all, it will be, as it were, the\nservant of two masters, for on every opportunity it frees itself from the\nservice to which it was destined in order to follow its own ends, whereby\nit often leaves the will very inopportunely in a fix, and thus the\nindividual so gifted becomes more or less useless for life, nay, in his\nconduct sometimes reminds us of madness. Then, on account of its highly\ndeveloped power of knowledge, it will see in things more the universal\nthan the particular; while the service of the will principally requires\nthe knowledge of the particular. But, again, when, as opportunity offers,\nthat whole abnormally heightened power of knowledge directs itself with\nall its energy to the circumstances and miseries of the will, it will be\napt to apprehend these too vividly, to behold all in too glaring colours,\nin too bright a light, and in a fearfully exaggerated form, whereby the\nindividual falls into mere extremes. The following may serve to explain\nthis more accurately. All great theoretical achievements, in whatever\nsphere they may be, are brought about in this way: Their author directs\nall the forces of his mind upon one point, in which he lets them unite and\nconcentrate so strongly, firmly, and exclusively that now the whole of the\nrest of the world vanishes for him, and his object fills all reality. Now\nthis great and powerful concentration which belongs to the privileges of\ngenius sometimes appears for it also in the case of objects of the real\nworld and the events of daily life, which then, brought under such a\nfocus, are magnified to such a monstrous extent that they appear like the\nflea, which under the solar microscope assumes the stature of an elephant.\nHence it arises that highly gifted individuals sometimes are thrown by\ntrifles into violent emotions of the most various kinds, which are\nincomprehensible to others, who see them transported with grief, joy,\ncare, fear, anger, &c., by things which leave the every\u2010day man quite\ncomposed. Thus, then, the genius lacks _soberness_, which simply consists\nin this, that one sees in things nothing more than actually belongs to\nthem, especially with reference to our possible ends; therefore no sober\u2010\nminded man can be a genius. With the disadvantages which have been\nenumerated there is also associated hyper\u2010sensibility, which an abnormally\ndeveloped nervous and cerebral system brings with it, and indeed in union\nwith the vehemence and passionateness of will which is certainly\ncharacteristic of genius, and which exhibits itself physically as energy\nof the pulsation of the heart. From all this very easily arises that\nextravagance of disposition, that vehemence of the emotions, that quick\nchange of mood under prevailing melancholy, which Goethe has presented to\nus in Tasso. What reasonableness, quiet composure, finished surveyal,\ncertainty and proportionateness of behaviour is shown by the well\u2010endowed\nnormal man in comparison with the now dreamy absentness, and now\npassionate excitement of the man of genius, whose inward pain is the\nmother\u2019s lap of immortal works! To all this must still be added that\ngenius lives essentially alone. It is too rare to find its like with ease,\nand too different from the rest of men to be their companion. With them it\nis the will, with him it is knowledge, that predominates; therefore their\npleasures are not his, and his are not theirs. They are merely moral\nbeings, and have merely personal relations; he is at the same time a pure\nintellect, and as such belongs to the whole of humanity. The course of\nthought of the intellect which is detached from its mother soil, the will,\nand only returns to it periodically, will soon show itself entirely\ndifferent from that of the normal intellect, still cleaving to its stem.\nFor this reason, and also on account of the dissimilarity of the pace, the\nformer is not adapted for thinking in common, _i.e._, for conversation\nwith the others: they will have as little pleasure in him and his\noppressive superiority as he will in them. They will therefore feel more\ncomfortable with their equals, and he will prefer the entertainment of his\nequals, although, as a rule, this is only possible through the works they\nhave left behind them. Therefore Chamfort says very rightly: \u201c_Il y a peu\nde vices qui emp\u00eachent un homme d\u2019avoir beaucoup d\u2019amis, autant que\npeuvent le faire de trop grandes qualit\u00e9s_.\u201d The happiest lot that can\nfall to the genius is release from action, which is not his element, and\nleisure for production. From all this it results that although genius may\nhighly bless him who is gifted with it, in the hours in which, abandoned\nto it, he revels unhindered in its delight, yet it is by no means fitted\nto procure for him a happy course of life; rather the contrary. This is\nalso confirmed by the experience recorded in biographies. Besides this\nthere is also an external incongruity, for the genius, in his efforts and\nachievements themselves, is for the most part in contradiction and\nconflict with his age. Mere men of talent come always at the right time;\nfor as they are roused by the spirit of their age, and called forth by its\nneeds, they are also capable only of satisfying these. They therefore go\nhand in hand with the advancing culture of their contemporaries or with\nthe gradual progress of a special science: for this they reap reward and\napproval. But to the next generation their works are no longer enjoyable;\nthey must be replaced by others, which again are not permanent. The\ngenius, on the contrary, comes into his age like a comet into the paths of\nthe planets, to whose well\u2010regulated and comprehensible order its entirely\neccentric course is foreign. Accordingly he cannot go hand in hand with\nthe existing, regular progress of the culture of the age, but flings his\nworks far out on to the way in front (as the dying emperor flung his spear\namong the enemy), upon which time has first to overtake them. His relation\nto the culminating men of talent of his time might be expressed in the\nwords of the Evangelist: \u201c\u1f49 \u03ba\u03b1\u03b9\u03c1\u03bf\u03c2 \u1f41 \u03b5\u03bc\u03bf\u03c2 \u03bf\u03c5\u03c0\u03c9 \u03c0\u03b1\u03c1\u03b5\u03c3\u03c4\u03b9\u03bd; \u1f41 \u03b4\u03b5 \u03ba\u03b1\u03b9\u03c1\u03bf\u03c2 \u1f41\n\u1f51\u03bc\u03b5\u03c4\u03b5\u03c1\u03bf\u03c2 \u03c0\u03b1\u03bd\u03c4\u03bf\u03c4\u03b5 \u03b5\u03c3\u03c4\u03b9\u03bd \u1f11\u03c4\u03bf\u03b9\u03bc\u03bf\u03c2\u201d (John vii. 6). The man of talent can\nachieve what is beyond the power of achievement of other men, but not what\nis beyond their power of apprehension: therefore he at once finds those\nwho prize him. But the achievement of the man of genius, on the contrary,\ntranscends not only the power of achievement, but also the power of\napprehension of others; therefore they do not become directly conscious of\nhim. The man of talent is like the marksman who hits a mark the others\ncannot hit; the man of genius is like the marksman who hits a mark they\ncannot even see to; therefore they only get news of him indirectly, and\nthus late; and even this they only accept upon trust and faith.\nAccordingly Goethe says in one of his letters, \u201cImitation is inborn in us;\nwhat to imitate is not easily recognised. Rarely is what is excellent\nfound; still more rarely is it prized.\u201d And Chamfort says: \u201c_Il en est de\nla valeur des hommes comme de celle des diamans, qui \u00e0 une certaine mesure\nde grosseur, de puret\u00e9, de perfection, ont un prix fixe et marqu\u00e9, mais\nqui, par\u2010del\u00e0 cette mesure, restent sans prix, et ne trouvent point\nd\u2019acheteurs_.\u201d And Bacon of Verulam has also expressed it: \u201c_Infimarum\nvirtutum, apud vulgus, laus est, mediarum admiratio, supremarum sensus\nnullus_\u201d (_De augm. sc._, L. vi. c. 3). Indeed, one might perhaps reply,\n_Apud vulgus!_ But I must then come to his assistance with Machiavelli\u2019s\nassurance: \u201c_Nel mondo non \u00e8 se non volgo_;\u201d(12) as also Thilo (_Ueber den\nRuhm_) remarks, that to the vulgar herd there generally belongs one more\nthan each of us believes. It is a consequence of this late recognition of\nthe works of the man of genius that they are rarely enjoyed by their\ncontemporaries, and accordingly in the freshness of colour which\nsynchronism and presence imparts, but, like figs and dates, much more in a\ndry than in a fresh state.\n\nIf, finally, we consider genius from the somatic side, we find it\nconditioned by several anatomical and physiological qualities, which\nindividually are seldom present in perfection, and still more seldom\nperfect together, but which are yet all indispensably required; so that\nthis explains why genius only appears as a perfectly isolated and almost\nportentous exception. The fundamental condition is an abnormal\npredominance of sensibility over irritability and reproductive power; and\nwhat makes the matter more difficult, this must take place in a male body.\n(Women may have great talent, but no genius, for they always remain\nsubjective.) Similarly the cerebral system must be perfectly separated\nfrom the ganglion system by complete isolation, so that it stands in\ncomplete opposition to the latter; and thus the brain pursues its\nparasitic life on the organism in a very decided, isolated, powerful, and\nindependent manner. Certainly it will thereby very easily affect the rest\nof the organism injuriously, and through its heightened life and ceaseless\nactivity wear it out prematurely, unless it is itself possessed of\nenergetic vital force and a good constitution: thus the latter belong to\nthe conditions of genius. Indeed even a good stomach is a condition on\naccount of the special and close agreement of this part with the brain.\nBut chiefly the brain must be of unusual development and magnitude,\nespecially broad and high. On the other hand, its depth will be inferior,\nand the cerebrum will abnormally preponderate in proportion to the\ncerebellum. Without doubt much depends upon the configuration of the brain\nas a whole and in its parts; but our knowledge is not yet sufficient to\ndetermine this accurately, although we easily recognise the form of skull\nthat indicates a noble and lofty intelligence. The texture of the mass of\nthe brain must be of extreme fineness and perfection, and consist of the\npurest, most concentrated, tenderest, and most excitable nerve\u2010substance;\ncertainly the quantitative proportion of the white to the grey matter has\na decided influence, which, however, we are also unable as yet to specify.\nHowever, the report of the _post\u2010mortem_ on the body of Byron(13) shows\nthat in his case the white matter was in unusually large proportion to the\ngrey, and also that his brain weighed six pounds. Cuvier\u2019s brain weighed\nfive pounds; the normal weight is three pounds. In contrast to the\nsuperior size of the brain, the spinal cord and nerves must be unusually\nthin. A beautifully arched, high and broad skull of thin bone must protect\nthe brain without in any way cramping it. This whole quality of the brain\nand nervous system is the inheritance from the mother, to which we shall\nreturn in the following book. But it is quite insufficient to produce the\nphenomenon of genius if the inheritance from the father is not added, a\nlively, passionate temperament, which exhibits itself somatically as\nunusual energy of the heart, and consequently of the circulation of the\nblood, especially towards the head. For, in the first place, that\nturgescence peculiar to the brain on account of which it presses against\nits walls is increased by this; therefore it forces itself out of any\nopening in these which has been occasioned by some injury; and secondly,\nfrom the requisite strength of the heart the brain receives that internal\nmovement different from its constant rising and sinking at every breath,\nwhich consists in a shaking of its whole mass at every pulsation of the\nfour cerebral arteries, and the energy of which must correspond to the\nhere increased quantity of the brain, as this movement in general is an\nindispensable condition of its activity. To this, therefore, small stature\nand especially a short neck is favourable, because by the shorter path the\nblood reaches the brain with more energy; and on this account great minds\nhave seldom large bodies. Yet that shortness of the distance is not\nindispensable; for example, Goethe was of more than middle height. If,\nhowever, the whole condition connected with the circulation of the blood,\nand therefore coming from the father is wanting, the good quality of the\nbrain coming from the mother, will at most produce a man of talent, a fine\nunderstanding, which the phlegmatic temperament thus introduced supports;\nbut a phlegmatic genius is impossible. This condition coming from the\nfather explains many faults of temperament described above. But, on the\nother hand, if this condition exists without the former, thus with an\nordinarily or even badly constructed brain, it gives vivacity without\nmind, heat without light, hot\u2010headed persons, men of unsupportable\nrestlessness and petulance. That of two brothers only one has genius, and\nthat one generally the elder, as, for example, in Kant\u2019s case, is\nprimarily to be explained from the fact that the father was at the age of\nstrength and passion only when he was begotten; although also the other\ncondition originating with the mother may be spoiled by unfavourable\ncircumstances.\n\nI have further to add here a special remark on the _childlike_ character\nof the genius, _i.e._, on a certain resemblance which exists between\ngenius and the age of childhood. In childhood, as in the case of genius,\nthe cerebral and nervous system decidedly preponderates, for its\ndevelopment hurries far in advance of that of the rest of the organism; so\nthat already at the seventh year the brain has attained its full extension\nand mass. Therefore, Bichat says: \u201c_Dans l\u2019enfance le syst\u00e8me nerveux,\ncompar\u00e9 au musculaire, est proportionellement plus consid\u00e9rable que dans\ntous les \u00e2ges suivans, tandis que par la suite, la pluspart des autres\nsyst\u00e8mes pr\u00e9dominent sur celui\u2010ci. On sait que, pour bien voir les nerfs,\non choisit toujours les enfans_\u201d (_De la vie et de la mort_, art. 8, \u00a7 6).\nOn the other hand, the development of the genital system begins latest,\nand irritability, reproduction, and genital function are in full force\nonly at the age of manhood, and then, as a rule, they predominate over the\nbrain function. Hence it is explicable that children, in general, are so\nsensible, reasonable, desirous of information, and teachable, nay, on the\nwhole, are more disposed and fitted for all theoretical occupation than\ngrown\u2010up people. They have, in consequence of that course of development,\nmore intellect than will, _i.e._, than inclinations, desire, and passion.\nFor intellect and brain are one, and so also is the genital system one\nwith the most vehement of all desires: therefore I have called the latter\nthe focus of the will. Just because the fearful activity of this system\nstill slumbers, while that of the brain has already full play, childhood\nis the time of innocence and happiness, the paradise of life, the lost\nEden on which we look longingly back through the whole remaining course of\nour life. But the basis of that happiness is that in childhood our whole\nexistence lies much more in knowing than in willing\u2014a condition which is\nalso supported from without by the novelty of all objects. Hence in the\nmorning sunshine of life the world lies before us so fresh, so magically\ngleaming, so attractive. The small desires, the weak inclinations, and\ntrifling cares of childhood are only a weak counterpoise to that\npredominance of intellectual activity. The innocent and clear glance of\nchildren, at which we revive ourselves, and which sometimes in particular\ncases reaches the sublime contemplative expression with which Raphael has\nglorified his cherubs, is to be explained from what has been said.\nAccordingly the mental powers develop much earlier than the needs they are\ndestined to serve; and here, as everywhere, nature proceeds very\ndesignedly. For in this time of predominating intelligence the man\ncollects a great store of knowledge for future wants which at the time are\nforeign to him. Therefore his intellect, now unceasingly active, eagerly\napprehends all phenomena, broods over them and stores them up carefully\nfor the coming time,\u2014like the bees, who gather a great deal more honey\nthan they can consume, in anticipation of future need. Certainly what a\nman acquires of insight and knowledge up to the age of puberty is, taken\nas a whole, more than all that he afterwards learns, however learned he\nmay become; for it is the foundation of all human knowledge. Up till the\nsame time plasticity predominates in the child\u2019s body, and later, by a\nmetastasis, its forces throw themselves into the system of generation; and\nthus with puberty the sexual passion appears, and now, little by little,\nthe will gains the upper hand. Then childhood, which is prevailingly\ntheoretical and desirous of learning, is followed by the restless, now\nstormy, now melancholy, period of youth, which afterwards passes into the\nvigorous and earnest age of manhood. Just because that impulse pregnant\nwith evil is wanting in the child is its volition so adapted and\nsubordinated to knowledge, whence arises that character of innocence,\nintelligence, and reasonableness which is peculiar to the age of\nchildhood. On what, then, the likeness between childhood and genius\ndepends I scarcely need to express further: upon the surplus of the powers\nof knowledge over the needs of the will, and the predominance of the\npurely intellectual activity which springs from this. Really every child\nis to a certain extent a genius, and the genius is to a certain extent a\nchild. The relationship of the two shows itself primarily in the na\u00efvet\u00e9\nand sublime simplicity which is characteristic of true genius; and besides\nthis it appears in several traits, so that a certain childishness\ncertainly belongs to the character of the genius. In Riemer\u2019s\n\u201c_Mittheilungen \u00fcber Goethe_\u201d (vol. i. p. 184) it is related that Herder\nand others found fault with Goethe, saying he was always a big child.\nCertainly they were right in what they said, but they were not right in\nfinding fault with it. It has also been said of Mozart that all his life\nhe remained a child (Nissen\u2019s Biography of Mozart, p. 2 and 529).\nSchlichtegroll\u2019s \u201c_Nekrology_\u201d (for 1791, vol. ii. p. 109) says of him:\n\u201cIn his art he early became a man, but in all other relations he always\nremained a child.\u201d Every genius is even for this reason a big child; he\nlooks out into the world as into something strange, a play, and therefore\nwith purely objective interest. Accordingly he has just as little as the\nchild that dull gravity of ordinary men, who, since they are capable only\nof subjective interests, always see in things mere motives for their\naction. Whoever does not to a certain extent remain all his life a big\nchild, but becomes a grave, sober, thoroughly composed, and reasonable\nman, may be a very useful and capable citizen of this world; but never a\ngenius. In fact, the genius is so because that predominance of the\nsensible system and of intellectual activity which is natural to childhood\nmaintains itself in him in an abnormal manner through his whole life, thus\nhere becomes perennial. A trace of this certainly shows itself in many\nordinary men up to the period of their youth; therefore, for example, in\nmany students a purely intellectual tendency and an eccentricity\nsuggestive of genius is unmistakable. But nature returns to her track;\nthey assume the chrysalis form and reappear at the age of manhood, as\nincarnate Philistines, at whom we are startled when we meet them again in\nlater years. Upon all this that has been expounded here depends Goethe\u2019s\nbeautiful remark: \u201cChildren do not perform what they promise; young people\nvery seldom; and if they do keep their word, the world does not keep its\nword with them\u201d (_Wahlverwandtschaften_, Pt. i. ch. 10)\u2014the world which\nafterwards bestows the crowns which it holds aloft for merit on those who\nare the tools of its low aims or know how to deceive it. In accordance\nwith what has been said, as there is a mere beauty of youth, which almost\nevery one at some time possesses (_beaut\u00e9 du diable_), so there is a mere\nintellectuality of youth, a certain mental nature disposed and adapted for\napprehending, understanding, and learning, which every one has in\nchildhood, and some have still in youth, but which is afterwards lost,\njust like that beauty. Only in the case of a very few, the chosen, the\none, like the other, lasts through the whole life; so that even in old age\na trace of it still remains visible: these are the truly beautiful and the\nmen of true genius.\n\nThe predominance of the cerebral nervous system and of intelligence in\nchildhood, which is here under consideration, together with the decline of\nit in riper age, receives important illustration and confirmation from the\nfact that in the species of animals which stands nearest to man, the apes,\nthe same relation is found in a striking degree. It has by degrees become\ncertain that the highly intelligent orang\u2010outang is a young pongo, which\nwhen it has grown up loses the remarkable human look of its countenance,\nand also its astonishing intelligence, because the lower and brutal part\nof its face increases in size, the forehead thereby recedes, large\n_crist\u00e6_, muscular developments, give the skull a brutish form, the\nactivity of the nervous system sinks, and in its place extraordinary\nmuscular strength develops, which, as it is sufficient for its\npreservation, makes the great intelligence now superfluous. Especially\nimportant is what Fr\u00e9d. Cuvier has said in this reference, and Flourens\nhas illustrated in a review of the \u201c_Histoire Naturelle_\u201d of the former,\nwhich appeared in the September number of the \u201c_Journal des Savans_\u201d of\n1839, and was also separately printed with some additions, under the\ntitle, \u201c_R\u00e9sum\u00e9 analytique des observations de Fr. Cuvier sur l\u2019instinct\net l\u2019intelligence des animaux_,\u201d _p. Flourens_, 1841. It is there said, p.\n50: \u201c_L\u2019intelligence de l\u2019orang\u2010outang, cette intelligence si d\u00e9velopp\u00e9e,\net d\u00e9velopp\u00e9e de si bonne heure, d\u00e9croit avec l\u2019\u00e2ge. L\u2019orang\u2010outang,\nlorsqu\u2019il est jeune, nous \u00e9tonne par sa p\u00e9n\u00e9tration, par sa ruse, par son\nadresse; l\u2019orang\u2010outang, devenu adulte, n\u2019est plus qu\u2019un animal grossier,\nbrutal, intraitable. Et il en est de tous les singes comme de l\u2019orang\u2010\noutang. Dans tous, l\u2019intelligence d\u00e9croit \u00e0 mesure que les forces\ns\u2019accroissent. L\u2019animal qui a le plus d\u2019intelligence, n\u2019a toute cette\nintelligence que dans le jeune \u00e2ge._\u201d Further, p. 87: \u201c_Les singes de tous\nles genres offrent ce rapport inverse de l\u2019\u00e2ge et de l\u2019intelligence.\nAinsi, par exemple, l\u2019Entelle (esp\u00e8ce de guenon du sous\u2010genre des Semno\u2010\npith\u00e8ques et l\u2019un des singes v\u00e9n\u00e9r\u00e9s dans la religion des Brames) a, dans\nle __ jeune \u00e2ge, le front large, le museau peu saillant, le cr\u00e2ne \u00e9lev\u00e9,\narrondi, etc. Avec l\u2019\u00e2ge le front disparait, recule, le museau pro\u00e9mine;\net le moral ne change pas moins que le physique: l\u2019apathie, la violence,\nle besoin de solitude, remplacent la p\u00e9n\u00e9tration, la docilit\u00e9, la\nconfiance. __\u2039 __Ces diff\u00e9rences sont si grandes,__ \u203a__ dit Mr. Fr\u00e9d.\nCuvier, __\u2039 __que dans l\u2019habitude o\u00f9 nous sommes de juger des actions des\nanimaux par les n\u00f4tres, nous prendrions le jeune animal pour un individu\nde l\u2019\u00e2ge, o\u00f9 toutes les qualit\u00e9s morales de l\u2019esp\u00e8ce sont acquises, et\nl\u2019Entelle adulte pour un individu qui n\u2019aurait encore que ses forces\nphysiques. Mais la nature n\u2019en agit pas ainsi avec ces animaux, qui ne\ndoivent pas sortir de la sph\u00e8re \u00e9troite, qui leur est fix\u00e9e, et \u00e0 qui il\nsuffit en quelque sorte de pouvoir veiller \u00e0 leur conservation. Pour cela\nl\u2019intelligence \u00e9tait n\u00e9cessaire, quand la force n\u2019existait pas, et quand\ncelle\u2010ci est acquise, toute autre puissance perd de son utilit\u00e9.__ \u203a_\u201d And\np. 118: \u201c_La conservation des esp\u00e8ces ne repose pas moins sur les qualit\u00e9s\nintellectuelles des animaux, que sur leurs qualit\u00e9s organiques_.\u201d This\nlast confirms my principle that the intellect, like the claws and teeth,\nis nothing else than a weapon in the service of the will.\n\n\n\n\nChapter XXXII.(14) On Madness.\n\n\nThe health of the mind properly consists in perfect recollection. Of\ncourse this is not to be understood as meaning that our memory preserves\neverything. For the past course of our life shrinks up in time, as the\npath of the wanderer looking back shrinks up in space: sometimes it is\ndifficult for us to distinguish the particular years; the days have for\nthe most part become unrecognisable. Really, however, only the exactly\nsimilar events, recurring an innumerable number of times, so that their\nimages, as it were, conceal each other, ought so to run together in the\nmemory that they are individually unrecognisable; on the other hand, every\nevent in any way peculiar or significant we must be able to find again in\nmemory, if the intellect is normal, vigorous, and quite healthy. In the\ntext I have explained _madness_ as the _broken thread_ of this memory,\nwhich still runs on regularly, although in constantly decreasing fulness\nand distinctness. The following considerations may serve to confirm this.\n\nThe memory of a healthy man affords a certainty as to an event he has\nwitnessed, which is regarded as just as firm and sure as his present\napprehension of things; therefore, if sworn to by him, this event is\nthereby established in a court of law. On the other hand, the mere\nsuspicion of madness will at once weaken the testimony of a witness. Here,\nthen, lies the criterion between the healthy mind and insanity. Whenever I\ndoubt whether an event which I remember really took place, I throw upon\nmyself the suspicion of madness: unless it is that I am uncertain whether\nit was not a mere dream. If another doubts the reality of an event,\nrelated by me as an eye\u2010witness, without mistrusting my honesty, then he\nregards me as insane. Whoever comes at last, through constantly recounting\nan event which originally was fabricated by him, to believe in it himself\nis, in this one point, really insane. We may ascribe to an insane person\nflashes of wit, single clever thoughts, even correct judgments, but his\ntestimony as to past events no man will consider valid. In the Lalita\u2010\nvistara, well known to be the history of Buddha Sakya\u2010Muni, it is related\nthat at the moment of his birth all the sick became well, all the blind\nsaw, all the deaf heard, and all mad people \u201crecovered their memory.\u201d This\nlast is mentioned in two passages.(15)\n\nMy own experience of many years has led me to the opinion that madness\noccurs proportionally most frequently among actors. But what a misuse they\nmake of their memory! Daily they have to learn a new part or refresh an\nold one; but these parts are entirely without connection, nay, are in\ncontradiction and contrast with each other, and every evening the actor\nstrives to forget himself entirely and be some quite different person.\nThis kind of thing paves the way for madness.\n\nThe exposition of the origin of madness given in the text will become more\ncomprehensible if it is remembered how unwillingly we think of things\nwhich powerfully injure our interests, wound our pride, or interfere with\nour wishes; with what difficulty do we determine to lay such things before\nour own intellect for careful and serious investigation; how easily, on\nthe other hand, we unconsciously break away or sneak off from them again;\nhow, on the contrary, agreeable events come into our minds of their own\naccord, and, if driven away, constantly creep in again, so that we dwell\non them for hours together. In that resistance of the will to allowing\nwhat is contrary to it to come under the examination of the intellect lies\nthe place at which madness can break in upon the mind. Each new adverse\nevent must be assimilated by the intellect, _i.e._, it must receive a\nplace in the system of the truths connected with our will and its\ninterests, whatever it may have to displace that is more satisfactory.\nWhenever this has taken place, it already pains us much less; but this\noperation itself is often very painful, and also, in general, only takes\nplace slowly and with resistance. However, the health of the mind can only\ncontinue so long as this is in each case properly carried out. If, on the\ncontrary, in some particular case, the resistance and struggles of the\nwill against the apprehension of some knowledge reaches such a degree that\nthat operation is not performed in its integrity, then certain events or\ncircumstances become for the intellect completely suppressed, because the\nwill cannot endure the sight of them, and then, for the sake of the\nnecessary connection, the gaps that thus arise are filled up at pleasure;\nthus madness appears. For the intellect has given up its nature to please\nthe will: the man now imagines what does not exist. Yet the madness which\nhas thus arisen is now the lethe of unendurable suffering; it was the last\nremedy of harassed nature, _i.e._, of the will.\n\nLet me mention here in passing a proof of my view which is worth noticing.\nCarlo Gozzi, in the \u201c_Monstro turchino_,\u201d act i. scene 2, presents to us a\nperson who has drunk a magic potion which produces forgetfulness, and this\nperson appears exactly like a madman.\n\nIn accordance with the above exposition one may thus regard the origin of\nmadness as a violent \u201ccasting out of the mind\u201d of anything, which,\nhowever, is only possible by \u201ctaking into the head\u201d something else. The\nconverse process is more rare, that the \u201ctaking into the head\u201d comes\nfirst, and the \u201ccasting out of the mind\u201d second. It takes place, however,\nin those cases in which the occasion of insanity is kept constantly\npresent to the mind and cannot be escaped from; thus, for example, in the\ncase of many who have gone mad from love, erotomaniacs, where the occasion\nof their madness is constantly longed after; also in the case of madness\nwhich has resulted from the fright of some sudden horrible occurrence.\nSuch patients cling, as it were, convulsively to the thought they have\ngrasped, so that no other, or at least none opposed to it, can arise. In\nboth processes, however, what is essential to madness remains the same,\nthe impossibility of a uniformly connected recollection, such as is the\nbasis of our healthy and rational reflection. Perhaps the contrast of the\nways in which they arise, set forth here, might, if applied with judgment,\nafford a sharp and profound principle of division of delusions proper.\n\nFor the rest, I have only considered the physical origin of madness, thus\nwhat is introduced by external, objective occasions. More frequently,\nhowever, it depends upon purely physical causes, upon malformations or\npartial disorganisation of the brain or its membranes, also upon the\ninfluence which other parts affected with disease exercise upon the brain.\nPrincipally in the latter kind of madness false sense\u2010perceptions,\nhallucinations, may arise. Yet the two causes of madness will generally\npartake of each other, particularly the psychical of the physical. It is\nthe same as with suicide, which is rarely brought about by an external\noccasion alone, but a certain physical discomfort lies at its foundation;\nand according to the degree which this attains to a greater or less\nexternal occasion is required; only in the case of the very highest degree\nis no external occasion at all required. Therefore there is no misfortune\nso great that it would influence every one to suicide, and none so small\nthat one like it has not already led to it. I have shown the psychical\norigin of madness as, at least according to all appearance, it is brought\nabout in the healthy mind by a great misfortune. In the case of those who\nare already strongly disposed to madness physically a very small\ndisappointment will be sufficient to induce it. For example, I remember a\nman in a madhouse who had been a soldier, and had gone out of his mind\nbecause his officer had addressed him as _Er_.(16) In the case of decided\nphysical disposition no occasion at all is required when this has come to\nmaturity. The madness which has sprung from purely psychical causes may,\nperhaps, by the violent perversion of the course of thought which has\nproduced it, also introduce a kind of paralysis or other depravity of some\npart of the brain, which, if not soon done away with, becomes permanent.\nTherefore madness is only curable at first, and not after a longer time.\n\nPinel taught that there is a _mania sine delirio_, frenzy without\ninsanity. This was controverted by Esquirol, and since then much has been\nsaid for and against it. The question can only be decided empirically. But\nif such a state really does occur, then it is to be explained from the\nfact that here the will periodically entirely withdraws itself from the\ngovernment and guidance of the intellect, and consequently of motives, and\nthus it then appears as a blind, impetuous, destructive force of nature,\nand accordingly manifests itself as the desire to annihilate everything\nthat comes in its way. The will thus let loose is like the stream which\nhas broken through the dam, the horse that has thrown his rider, or a\nclock out of which the regulating screws have been taken. Yet only the\nreason, thus _reflective_ knowledge, is included in that suspension, not\n_intuitive_ knowledge also; otherwise the will would remain entirely\nwithout guidance, and consequently the man would be immovable. But, on the\ncontrary, the man in a frenzy apprehends objects, for he breaks out upon\nthem; thus he has also consciousness of his present action, and afterwards\nremembrance of it. But he is entirely without reflection, thus without any\nguidance of the reason, consequently quite incapable of any consideration\nor regard for the present, the past, or the future. When the attack is\nover, and the reason has regained its command, its function is correct,\nbecause here its proper activity has not been perverted or destroyed, but\nonly the will has found the means to withdraw itself from it entirely for\na while.\n\n\n\n\nChapter XXXIII.(17) Isolated Remarks On Natural Beauty.\n\n\nWhat contributes among other things to make the sight of a beautiful\nlandscape so exceedingly delightful is the perfect _truth and consistency_\nof nature. Certainly nature does not follow here the guidance of logic in\nthe connection of the grounds of knowledge, of antecedents and\nconsequences, premisses and conclusions; but still it follows what is for\nit analogous to the law of causality in the visible connection of causes\nand effects. Every modification, even the slightest, which an object\nreceives from its position, foreshortening, concealment, distance,\nlighting, linear and atmospheric perspective, &c., is, through its effect\nupon the eye, unerringly given and accurately taken account of: the Indian\nproverb, \u201cEvery corn of rice casts its shadow,\u201d finds here its\nconfirmation. Therefore here everything shows itself so consistent,\naccurately regular, connected, and scrupulously right; here there are no\nevasions. If now we consider the sight of a beautiful view, merely as a\nbrain\u2010phenomenon, it is the only one among the complicated brain\u2010phenomena\nwhich is always absolutely regular, blameless, and perfect; all the rest,\nespecially our own mental operations, are, in form or material, affected\nmore or less with defects or inaccuracies. From this excellence of the\nsight of beautiful nature, is the harmonious and thoroughly satisfying\ncharacter of its impression to be explained, and also the favourable\neffect which it has upon our whole thought, which in its formal part\nthereby becomes more correctly disposed, and to a certain extent purified,\nfor that brain\u2010phenomenon which alone is entirely faultless sets the brain\nin general in perfectly normal action; and now the thought seeks to follow\nthat method of nature in the consistency, connectedness, regularity, and\nharmony of all its processes, after being brought by it into the right\nswing. A beautiful view is therefore a cathartic of the mind, as music,\naccording to Aristotle, is of the feeling, and in its presence one will\nthink most correctly.\n\nThat the sight of a mountain chain suddenly rising before us throws us so\neasily into a serious, and even sublime mood may partly depend upon the\nfact that the form of the mountains and the outline of the chain arising\nfrom it is the only constantly _permanent_ line of the landscape, for the\nmountains alone defy the decay which soon sweeps away everything else,\nespecially our own ephemeral person. Not that at the sight of the mountain\nchain all this appeared distinctly in our consciousness, but an obscure\nfeeling of it is the fundamental note of our mood.\n\nI would like to know why it is that while for the human form and\ncountenance light from above is altogether the most advantageous, and\nlight from below the most unfavourable, with regard to landscape nature\nexactly the converse holds good.\n\nYet how \u00e6sthetic is nature! Every spot that is entirely uncultivated and\nwild, _i.e._, left free to itself, however small it may be, if only the\nhand of man remains absent, it decorates at once in the most tasteful\nmanner, clothes it with plants, flowers, and shrubs, whose unforced\nnature, natural grace, and tasteful grouping bears witness that they have\nnot grown up under the rod of correction of the great egoist, but that\nnature has here moved freely. Every neglected plant at once becomes\nbeautiful. Upon this rests the principle of the English garden, which is\nas much as possible to conceal art, so that it may appear as if nature had\nhere moved freely; for only then is it perfectly beautiful, _i.e._, shows\nin the greatest distinctness the objectification of the still unconscious\nwill to live, which here unfolds itself with the greatest na\u00efvet\u00e9, because\nthe forms are not, as in the animal world, determined by external ends,\nbut only immediately by the soil, climate, and a mysterious third\ninfluence on account of which so many plants which have originally sprung\nup in the same soil and climate yet show such different forms and\ncharacters.\n\nThe great difference between the English, or more correctly the Chinese,\ngarden and the old French, which is now always becoming more rare, yet\nstill exists in a few magnificent examples, ultimately rests upon the fact\nthat the former is planned in an objective spirit, the latter in a\nsubjective. In the former the will of nature, as it objectifies itself in\ntree and shrub, mountain and waterfall, is brought to the purest possible\nexpression of these its Ideas, thus of its own inner being. In the French\ngarden, on the other hand, only the will of the possessor of it is\nmirrored, which has subdued nature so that instead of its Ideas it bears\nas tokens of its slavery the forms which correspond to that will, and\nwhich are forcibly imposed upon it\u2014clipped hedges, trees cut into all\nkinds of forms, straight alleys, arched avenues, &c.\n\n\n\n\nChapter XXXIV.(18) On The Inner Nature Of Art.\n\n\nNot merely philosophy but also the fine arts work at bottom towards the\nsolution of the problem of existence. For in every mind that once gives\nitself up to the purely objective contemplation of nature a desire has\nbeen excited, however concealed and unconscious it may be, to comprehend\nthe true nature of things, of life and existence. For this alone has\ninterest for the intellect as such, _i.e._, for the pure subject of\nknowledge which has become free from the aims of the will; as for the\nsubject which knows as a mere individual the aims of the will alone have\ninterest. On this account the result of the purely objective apprehension\nof things is an expression more of the nature of life and existence, more\nan answer to the question, \u201cWhat is life?\u201d Every genuine and successful\nwork of art answers this question in its own way with perfect correctness.\nBut all the arts speak only the naive and childish language of perception,\nnot the abstract and serious language of _reflection_; their answer is\ntherefore a fleeting image: not permanent and general knowledge. Thus for\n_perception_ every work of art answers that question, every painting,\nevery statue, every poem, every scene upon the stage: music also answers\nit; and indeed more profoundly than all the rest, for in its language,\nwhich is understood with absolute directness, but which is yet\nuntranslatable into that of the reason, the inner nature of all life and\nexistence expresses itself. Thus all the other arts hold up to the\nquestioner a perceptible image, and say, \u201cLook here, this is life.\u201d Their\nanswer, however correct it may be, will yet always afford merely a\ntemporary, not a complete and final, satisfaction. For they always give\nmerely a fragment, an example instead of the rule, not the whole, which\ncan only be given in the universality of the _conception_. For this,\ntherefore, thus for reflection and in the abstract, to give an answer\nwhich just on that account shall be permanent and suffice for always, is\nthe task of philosophy. However, we see here upon what the relationship of\nphilosophy to the fine arts rests, and can conclude from that to what\nextent the capacity of both, although in its direction and in secondary\nmatters very different, is yet in its root the same.\n\nEvery work of art accordingly really aims at showing us life and things as\nthey are in truth, but cannot be directly discerned by every one through\nthe mist of objective and subjective contingencies. Art takes away this\nmist.\n\nThe works of the poets, sculptors, and representative artists in general\ncontain an unacknowledged treasure of profound wisdom; just because out of\nthem the wisdom of the nature of things itself speaks, whose utterances\nthey merely interpret by illustrations and purer repetitions. On this\naccount, however, every one who reads the poem or looks at the picture\nmust certainly contribute out of his own means to bring that wisdom to\nlight; accordingly he comprehends only so much of it as his capacity and\nculture admit of; as in the deep sea each sailor only lets down the lead\nas far as the length of the line will allow. Before a picture, as before a\nprince, every one must stand, waiting to see whether and what it will\nspeak to him; and, as in the case of a prince, so here he must not himself\naddress it, for then he would only hear himself. It follows from all this\nthat in the works of the representative arts all truth is certainly\ncontained, yet only _virtualiter_ or _implicite_; philosophy, on the other\nhand, endeavours to supply the same truth _actualiter_ and _explicite_,\nand therefore, in this sense, is related to art as wine to grapes. What it\npromises to supply would be, as it were, an already realised and clear\ngain, a firm and abiding possession; while that which proceeds from the\nachievements and works of art is one which has constantly to be reproduced\nanew. Therefore, however, it makes demands, not only upon those who\nproduce its works, but also upon those who are to enjoy them which are\ndiscouraging and hard to comply with. Therefore its public remains small,\nwhile that of art is large.\n\nThe co\u2010operation of the beholder, which is referred to above, as demanded\nfor the enjoyment of a work of art, depends partly upon the fact that\nevery work of art can only produce its effect through the medium of the\nfancy; therefore it must excite this, and can never allow it to be left\nout of the play and remain inactive. This is a condition of the \u00e6sthetic\neffect, and therefore a fundamental law of all fine arts. But it follows\nfrom this that, through the work of art, everything must not be directly\ngiven to the senses, but rather only so much as is demanded to lead the\nfancy on to the right path; something, and indeed the ultimate thing, must\nalways be left over for the fancy to do. Even the author must always leave\nsomething over for the reader to think; for Voltaire has very rightly\nsaid, \u201c_Le secret d\u2019\u00eatre ennuyeux, c\u2019est de tout dire_.\u201d But besides this,\nin art the best of all is too spiritual to be given directly to the\nsenses; it must be born in the imagination of the beholder, although\nbegotten by the work of art. It depends upon this that the sketches of\ngreat masters often effect more than their finished pictures; although\nanother advantage certainly contributes to this, namely, that they are\ncompleted offhand in the moment of conception; while the perfected\npainting is only produced through continued effort, by means of skilful\ndeliberation and persistent intention, for the inspiration cannot last\ntill it is completed. From the fundamental \u00e6sthetical law we are speaking\nof, it is further to be explained why wax figures never produce an\n\u00e6sthetic effect, and therefore are not properly works of fine art,\nalthough it is just in them that the imitation of nature is able to reach\nits highest grade. For they leave nothing for the imagination to do.\nSculpture gives merely the form without the colour; painting gives the\ncolour, but the mere appearance of the form; thus both appeal to the\nimagination of the beholder. The wax figure, on the other hand, gives all,\nform and colour at once; whence arises the appearance of reality, and the\nimagination is left out of account. Poetry, on the contrary, appeals\nindeed to the imagination alone, which it sets in action by means of mere\nwords.\n\nAn arbitrary playing with the means of art without a proper knowledge of\nthe end is, in every art, the fundamental characteristic of the dabbler.\nSuch a man shows himself in the pillars that support nothing, aimless\nvolutes, juttings and projections of bad architecture, in the meaningless\nruns and figures, together with the aimless noise of bad music, in the\njingling of the rhymes of senseless poetry, &c.\n\nIt follows from the preceding chapter, and from my whole view of art, that\nits aim is the facilitating of the knowledge of the Ideas of the world (in\nthe Platonic sense, the only one which I recognise for the word Idea). The\nIdeas, however, are essentially something perceptible, which, therefore,\nin its fuller determinations, is inexhaustible. The communication of such\nan Idea can therefore only take place on the path of perception, which is\nthat of art. Whoever, therefore, is filled with the comprehension of an\nIdea is justified if he chooses art as the medium of its communication.\nThe mere conception, on the other hand, is something completely\ndeterminable, therefore exhaustible, and distinctly thought, the whole\ncontent of which can be coldly and dryly expressed in words. Now to desire\nto communicate such a conception by means of a work of art is a very\nuseless circumlocution, indeed belongs to that playing with the means of\nart without knowledge of its end which has just been condemned. Therefore\na work of art which has proceeded from mere distinct conceptions is always\nungenuine. If now, in considering a work of plastic art, or in reading a\npoem, or in hearing a piece of music (which aims at describing something\ndefinite), we see, through all the rich materials of art, the distinct,\nlimited, cold, dry conception shine out, and at last come to the front,\nthe conception which was the kernel of this work, the whole notion of\nwhich consequently consisted in the distinct thinking of it, and\naccordingly is absolutely exhausted by its communication, we feel\ndisgusted and indignant, for we see ourselves deceived and cheated out of\nour interest and attention. We are only perfectly satisfied by the\nimpression of a work of art when it leaves something which, with all our\nthinking about it, we cannot bring down to the distinctness of a\nconception. The mark of that hybrid origin from mere conceptions is that\nthe author of a work of art could, before he set about it, give in\ndistinct words what he intended to present; for then it would have been\npossible to attain his whole end through these words. Therefore it is an\nundertaking as unworthy as it is absurd if, as has often been tried at the\npresent day, one seeks to reduce a poem of Shakspeare\u2019s or Goethe\u2019s to the\nabstract truth which it was its aim to communicate. Certainly the artist\nought to think in the arranging of his work; but only that thought which\nwas _perceived_ before it was thought has afterwards, in its\ncommunication, the power of animating or rousing, and thereby becomes\nimperishable. We shall not refrain from observing here that certainly the\nwork which is done at a stroke, like the sketches of painters already\nreferred to, the work which is completed in the inspiration of its first\nconception, and as it were unconsciously dashed off, like the melody which\ncomes entirely without reflection, and quite as if by inspiration, and\nfinally, also the lyrical poem proper, the mere song, in which the deeply\nfelt mood of the present, and the impression of the surroundings, as if\ninvoluntarily, pours itself forth in words, whose metre and rhyme come\nabout of their own accord\u2014that all these, I say, have the great advantage\nof being purely the work of the ecstasy of the moment, the inspiration,\nthe free movement of genius, without any admixture of intention and\nreflection; hence they are through and through delightful and enjoyable,\nwithout shell and kernel, and their effect is much more inevitable than\nthat of the greatest works of art, of slower and more deliberate\nexecution. In all the latter, thus in great historical paintings, in long\nepic poems, great operas, &c., reflection, intention, and deliberate\nselection has had an important part; understanding, technical skill, and\nroutine must here fill up the gaps which the conception and inspiration of\ngenius has left, and must mix with these all kinds of necessary\nsupplementary work as cement of the only really genuinely brilliant parts.\nThis explains why all such works, only excepting the perfect masterpieces\nof the very greatest masters (as, for example, \u201cHamlet,\u201d \u201cFaust,\u201d the\nopera of \u201cDon Juan\u201d), inevitably contain an admixture of something insipid\nand wearisome, which in some measure hinders the enjoyment of them. Proofs\nof this are the \u201cMessiah,\u201d \u201c_Gerusalemme liberata_,\u201d even \u201cParadise Lost\u201d\nand the \u201c\u00c6neid;\u201d and Horace already makes the bold remark, \u201c_Quandoque\ndormitat bonus Homerus_.\u201d But that this is the case is the consequence of\nthe limitation of human powers in general.\n\nThe mother of the useful arts is necessity; that of the fine arts\nsuperfluity. As their father, the former have understanding; the latter\ngenius, which is itself a kind of superfluity, that of the powers of\nknowledge beyond the measure which is required for the service of the\nwill.\n\n\n\n\nChapter XXXV.(19) On The \u00c6sthetics Of Architecture.\n\n\nIn accordance with the deduction given in the text of the pure \u00e6sthetics\nof architecture from the lowest grades of the objectification of the will\nor of nature, the Ideas of which it seeks to bring to distinct perception,\nits one constant theme is _support and burden_, and its fundamental law is\nthat no burden shall be without sufficient support, and no support without\na suitable burden; consequently that the relation of these two shall be\nexactly the fitting one. The purest example of the carrying out of this\ntheme is the column and entablature. Therefore the order or columnar\narrangement has become, as it were, the thorough bass of the whole of\narchitecture. In column and entablature the support and the burden are\n_completely separated_; whereby the reciprocal action of the two and their\nrelation to each other becomes apparent. For certainly even every plain\nwall contains support and burden; but here the two are still fused\ntogether. All is here support and all is burden; hence there is no\n\u00e6sthetic effect. This first appears through the separation, and takes\nplace in proportion to its degree. For between the row of columns and the\nplain wall there are many intermediate degrees. Even in the mere breaking\nup of the wall of a house by windows and doors one seeks at least to\nindicate that separation by flat projecting pilasters (_ant\u00e6_) with\ncapitals, which are inserted under the mouldings, nay, in case of need,\nare represented by mere painting, in order to indicate in some way the\nentablature and an order. Real pillars, and also consoles and supports of\nvarious kinds, realise more that pure separation of support and burden\nwhich is striven after throughout by architecture. In this respect, next\nto the column with the entablature, but as a special construction not\nimitating it, stands the vault with the pillar. The latter certainly is\nfar from attaining to the \u00e6sthetic effect of the former, because here the\nsupport and the burden are not _purely separated_, but are fused, passing\nover into each other. In the vault itself every stone is at once burden\nand support, and even the pillars, especially in groined vaulting, are, at\nleast apparently, held in position by the pressure of opposite arches; and\nalso just on account of this lateral pressure not only vaults but even\nmere arches ought not to rest upon columns, but require the massive four\u2010\ncornered pillars. In the row of columns alone is the separation complete,\nfor here the entablature appears as pure burden, the column as pure\nsupport. Accordingly the relation of the colonnade to the plain wall may\nbe compared to that which would exist between a scale ascending in regular\nintervals and a tone ascending little by little from the same depth to the\nsame height without gradation, which would produce a mere howl. For in the\none as in the other the material is the same, and the important difference\nproceeds entirely from the _pure separation_.\n\nMoreover, the support is not adapted to the burden when it is only\nsufficient to bear it, but when it can do this so conveniently and amply\nthat at the first glance we are quite at ease about it. Yet this\nsuperfluity of support must not exceed a certain degree; for otherwise we\nwill perceive support without burden, which is opposed to the \u00e6sthetic\nend. As a rule for determining that degree the ancients devised the line\nof equilibrium, which is got by carrying out the diminution of the\nthickness of the column as it ascends till it runs out into an acute\nangle, whereby the column becomes a cone; now every cross section will\nleave the lower part so strong that it is sufficient to support the upper\npart cut off. Commonly, however, one builds with twentyfold strength,\n_i.e._, one lays upon every support only 1/20th of the maximum it could\nbear. A glaring example of burden without support is presented to the eye\nby the balconies at the corners of many houses built in the elegant style\nof the present day. We do not see what supports them; they seem to hang\nsuspended, and disturb the mind.\n\nThat in Italy even the simplest and most unornamented buildings make an\n\u00e6sthetic impression, while in Germany this is not the case, depends\nprincipally upon the fact that in Italy the roofs are very flat. A high\nroof is neither support nor burden, for its two halves mutually support\neach other, but the whole has no weight corresponding to its extension.\nTherefore it presents to the eye an extended mass which is entirely\nforeign to the \u00e6sthetic end, serves merely a useful end, consequently\ndisturbs the former, of which the theme is always only support and burden.\n\nThe form of the column has its sole ground in the fact that it affords the\nsimplest and most suitable support. In the twisted column\ninappropriateness appears as if with intentional perversity, and therefore\nshamelessness: hence good taste condemns it at the first glance. The four\u2010\ncornered pillar, since the diagonal exceeds the sides, has unequal\ndimensions of thickness which have no end as their motive, but are\noccasioned by the accident of greater feasibleness; and just on this\naccount it pleases us so very much less than the column. Even the\nhexagonal or octagonal pillar is more pleasing, because it approaches more\nnearly to the round column; for the form of the latter alone is\nexclusively determined by the end. It is, however, also so determined in\nall its other proportions, primarily in the relation of its thickness to\nits height, within the limits permitted by the difference of the three\ncolumnar orders. Therefore its diminution from the first third of its\nheight upwards, and also a slight increase of its thickness just at this\nplace (_entasis vitr._), depends upon the fact that the pressure of the\nburden is greatest there. It has hitherto been believed that this increase\nin thickness was peculiar to the Ionic and Corinthian columns alone, but\nrecent measurements have shown it also in the Doric columns, even at\nP\u00e6stum. Thus everything in the column, its thoroughly determined form, the\nproportion of its height to its thickness, of both to the intervals\nbetween the columns, and that of the whole series to the entablature and\nthe burden resting upon it, is the exactly calculated result of the\nrelation of the necessary support to the given burden. As the latter is\nuniformly distributed, so must also the support be; therefore groups of\ncolumns are tasteless. On the other hand, in the best Doric temples the\ncorner column comes somewhat nearer to the next ones, because the meeting\nof the entablatures at the corner increases the burden; and in this the\nprinciple of architecture expresses itself distinctly, that the structural\nrelations, _i.e._, the relations between support and burden, are the\nessential ones, to which the relations of symmetry, as subordinate, must\nat once give way. According to the weight of the whole burden generally\nwill the Doric or the two lighter orders of columns be chosen, for the\nfirst, not only by the greater thickness, but also by the closer position\nof the columns, which is essential to it, is calculated for heavier\nburdens, to which end also the almost crude simplicity of its capital is\nsuited. The capitals in general serve the end of showing visibly that the\ncolumns bear the entablature, and are not stuck in like pins; at the same\ntime they increase by means of their abacus the bearing surface. Since,\nthen, all the laws of columnar arrangement, and consequently also the form\nand proportion of the column, in all its parts and dimensions down to the\nsmallest details, follow from the thoroughly understood and consistently\ncarried out conception of the amply adequate support of a given burden,\nthus so far are determined _a priori_, it comes out clearly how perverse\nis the thought, so often repeated, that the stems of trees, or even (which\nunfortunately even \u201cVitruvius,\u201d iv. 1, expresses) the human form has been\nthe prototype of the column. For if the form of the column were for\narchitecture a purely accidental one, taken from without, it could never\nappeal to us so harmoniously and satisfactorily whenever we behold it in\nits proper symmetry; nor, on the other hand, could every even slight\ndisproportion of it be felt at once by the fine and cultivated sense as\ndisagreeable and disturbing, like a false note in music. This is rather\nonly possible because, according to the given end and means, all the rest\nis essentially determined _a priori_, as in music, according to the given\nmelody and key, the whole harmony is essentially so determined. And, like\nmusic, architecture in general is also not an imitative art, although both\nare often falsely taken to be so.\n\n\u00c6sthetic satisfaction, as was fully explained in the text, always depends\nupon the apprehension of a (Platonic) Idea. For architecture, considered\nmerely as a fine art, the Ideas of the lowest grades of nature, such as\ngravity, rigidity, and cohesion, are the peculiar theme; but not, as has\nhitherto been assumed, merely regular form, proportion, and symmetry,\nwhich, as something purely geometrical, properties of space, are not\nIdeas, and therefore cannot be the theme of a fine art. Thus in\narchitecture also they are of secondary origin, and have a subordinate\nsignificance, which I shall bring out immediately. If it were the task of\narchitecture as a fine art simply to exhibit these, then the model would\nhave the same effect as the finished work. But this is distinctly not the\ncase; on the contrary, the works of architecture, in order to act\n\u00e6sthetically, absolutely must have a considerable size; nay, they can\nnever be too large, but may easily be too small. Indeed _ceteris paribus_\nthe \u00e6sthetic effect is in exact proportion to the size of the building,\nbecause only great masses make the action of gravitation apparent and\nimpressive in a high degree. But this confirms my view that the tendency\nand antagonism of those fundamental forces of nature constitute the\nspecial \u00e6sthetical material of architecture, which, according to its\nnature, requires large masses in order to become visible, and indeed\ncapable of being felt. The forms in architecture, as was shown above in\nthe case of the column, are primarily determined by the immediate\nstructural end of each part. But so far as this leaves anything\nundetermined, the law of the most perfect clearness to perception, thus\nalso of the easiest comprehensibility, comes in; for architecture has its\nexistence primarily in our spatial perception, and accordingly appeals to\nour _a priori_ faculty for this. But these qualities always result from\nthe greatest regularity of the forms and rationality of their relations.\nTherefore beautiful architecture selects only regular figures composed of\nstraight lines or regular curves, and also the bodies which result from\nthese, such as cubes, parallelopipeda, cylinders, spheres, pyramids, and\ncones; but as openings sometimes circles or ellipses, yet, as a rule,\nquadrates, and still oftener rectangles, the latter of thoroughly rational\nand very easily comprehended relation of their sides (not, for instance as\n6:7, but as 1:2, 2:3), finally also blind windows or niches of regular and\ncomprehensible proportions. For the same reason it will readily give to\nthe buildings themselves and their large parts a rational and easily\ncomprehended relation of height and breadth; for example, it will let the\nheight of a facade be half the breadth, and place the pillars so that\nevery three or four of them, with the intervals between them, will measure\na line which is equal to the height, thus will form a quadrate. The same\nprinciple of perceptibility and easy comprehension demands also that a\nbuilding should be easily surveyed. This introduces symmetry, which is\nfurther necessary to mark out the work as a whole, and to distinguish its\nessential from its accidental limitation; for sometimes, for example, it\nis only under the guidance of symmetry that one knows whether one has\nbefore one three buildings standing beside each other or only one. Thus\nonly by means of symmetry does a work of architecture at once announce\nitself as individual unity, and as the development of a central thought.\n\nNow although, as was cursorily shown above, architecture has by no means\nto imitate the forms of nature, such as the stems of trees or even the\nhuman figure, yet it ought to work in the spirit of nature, for it makes\nthe law its own, _natura nihil agit frustra, nihilque supervacaneum, et\nquod commodissimum in omnibus suis operationibus sequitur_, and\naccordingly avoids everything which is even only apparently aimless, and\nalways attains the end in view in each case, whether this is purely\narchitectonic, _i.e._, structural, or an end connected with usefulness, by\nthe shortest and most natural path, and thus openly exhibits the end\nthrough the work itself. Thus it attains a certain grace, analogous to\nthat which in living creatures consists in the ease and suitableness of\nevery movement and position to its end. Accordingly we see in the good\nantique style of architecture every part, whether pillar, column, arch,\nentablature, or door, window, stair, or balcony, attain its end in the\ndirectest and simplest manner, at the same time displaying it openly and\nnaively; just as organised nature also does in its works. The tasteless\nstyle of architecture, on the contrary, seeks in everything useless\nroundabout ways, and delights in caprices, thereby hits upon aimlessly\nbroken and irregular entablatures, grouped columns, fragmentary cornices\non door arches and gables, meaningless volutes, scrolls, and such like. It\nplays with the means of the art without understanding its aims, as\nchildren play with the tools of grown\u2010up people. This was given above as\nthe character of the bungler. Of this kind is every interruption of a\nstraight line, every alteration in the sweep of a curve, without apparent\nend. On the other hand, it is also just that naive simplicity in the\ndisclosure and attainment of the end, corresponding to the spirit in which\nnature works and fashions, that imparts such beauty and grace of form to\nantique pottery that it ever anew excites our wonder, because it contrasts\nso advantageously in original taste with our modern pottery, which bears\nthe stamp of vulgarity, whether it is made of porcelain or common potter\u2019s\nclay. At the sight of the pottery and implements of the ancients we feel\nthat if nature had wished to produce such things it would have done so in\nthese forms. Since, then, we see that the beauty of architecture arises\nfrom the unconcealed exhibition of the ends, and the attainment of them by\nthe shortest and most natural path, my theory here appears in direct\ncontradiction with that of Kant, which places the nature of all beauty in\nan apparent design without an end.\n\nThe sole theme of architecture here set forth\u2014support and burden\u2014is so\nvery simple, that just on this account this art, so far as it is a fine\nart (but not so far as it serves useful ends), is perfect and complete in\nessential matters, since the best Greek period, at least, is not\nsusceptible of any important enrichment. On the other hand, the modern\narchitect cannot noticeably depart from the rules and patterns of the\nancients without already being on the path of deterioration. Therefore\nthere remains nothing for him to do but to apply the art transmitted to\nhim by the ancients, and carry out the rules so far as is possible under\nthe limitations which are inevitably laid down for him by wants, climate,\nage, and country. For in this art, as in sculpture, the effort after the\nideal unites with the imitation of the ancients.\n\nI scarcely need to remind the reader that in all these considerations I\nhave had in view antique architecture alone, and not the so\u2010called Gothic\nstyle, which is of Saracen origin, and was introduced by the Goths in\nSpain to the rest of Europe. Perhaps a certain beauty of its own kind is\nnot altogether to be denied to this style, but yet if it attempts to\noppose itself to the former as its equal, then this is a barbarous\npresumption which must not be allowed for a moment. How beneficently,\nafter contemplating such Gothic magnificence, does the sight of a building\ncorrectly carried out in the antique style act upon our mind! We feel at\nonce that this alone is right and true. If one could bring an ancient\nGreek before our most celebrated Gothic cathedrals, what would he say to\nthem?\u2014\u0392\u03b1\u03c1\u03b2\u03b1\u03c1\u03bf\u03b9! Our pleasure in Gothic works certainly depends for the\nmost part upon the association of ideas and historical reminiscences, thus\nupon a feeling which is foreign to art. All that I have said of the true\n\u00e6sthetic end, of the spirit and the theme of architecture, loses in the\ncase of these works its validity. For the freely lying entablature has\nvanished, and with it the columns: support and burden, arranged and\ndistributed in order to give visible form to the conflict between rigidity\nand gravity, are here no longer the theme. Moreover, that thorough, pure\nrationality by virtue of which everything admits of strict account, nay,\nalready presents it of its own accord to the thoughtful beholder, and\nwhich belongs to the character of antique architecture, can here no longer\nbe found; we soon become conscious that here, instead of it, a will guided\nby other conceptions has moved; therefore much remains unexplained to us.\nFor only the antique style of architecture is conceived in a purely\n_objective_ spirit; the Gothic style is more in the subjective spirit. Yet\nas we have recognised the peculiar \u00e6sthetic fundamental thought of antique\narchitecture in the unfolding of the conflict between rigidity and\ngravity, if we wish to discover in Gothic architecture also an analogous\nfundamental thought, it will be this, that here the entire overcoming and\nconquest of gravity by rigidity is supposed to be exhibited. For in\naccordance with this the horizontal line which is that of burden has\nentirely vanished, and the action of gravity only appears indirectly,\ndisguised in arches and vaults, while the vertical line which is that of\nsupport, alone prevails, and makes palpable to the senses the victorious\naction of rigidity, in excessively high buttresses, towers, turrets, and\npinnacles without number which rise unencumbered on high. While in antique\narchitecture the tendency and pressure from above downwards is just as\nwell represented and exhibited as that from below upwards, here the latter\ndecidedly predominates; whence that analogy often observed with the\ncrystal, whose crystallisation also takes place with the overcoming of\ngravity. If now we attribute this spirit and fundamental thought to Gothic\narchitecture, and would like thereby to set it up as the equally justified\nantithesis of antique architecture, we must remember that the conflict\nbetween rigidity and gravity, which the antique architecture so openly and\nna\u00efvely expresses, is an actual and true conflict founded in nature; the\nentire overcoming of gravity by rigidity, on the contrary, remains a mere\nappearance, a fiction accredited by illusion. Every one will easily be\nable to see clearly how from the fundamental thought given here, and the\npeculiarities of Gothic architecture noticed above, there arises that\nmysterious and hyperphysical character which is attributed to it. It\nprincipally arises, as was already mentioned, from the fact that here the\narbitrary has taken the place of the purely rational, which makes itself\nknown as the thorough adaptation of the means to the end. The many things\nthat are really aimless, but yet are so carefully perfected, raise the\nassumption of unknown, unfathomed, and secret ends, _i.e._, give the\nappearance of mystery. On the other hand, the brilliant side of Gothic\nchurches is the interior; because here the effect of the groined vaulting\nborne by slender, crystalline, aspiring pillars, raised high aloft, and,\nall burden having disappeared, promising eternal security, impresses the\nmind; while most of the faults which have been mentioned lie upon the\noutside. In antique buildings the external side is the most advantageous,\nbecause there we see better the support and the burden; in the interior,\non the other hand, the flat roof always retains something depressing and\nprosaic. For the most part, also, in the temples of the ancients, while\nthe outworks were many and great, the interior proper was small. An\nappearance of sublimity is gained from the hemispherical vault of a\ncupola, as in the Pantheon, of which, therefore, the Italians also,\nbuilding in this style, have made a most extensive use. What determines\nthis is, that the ancients, as southern peoples, lived more in the open\nair than the northern nations who have produced the Gothic style of\narchitecture. Whoever, then, absolutely insists upon Gothic architecture\nbeing accepted as an essential and authorised style may, if he is also\nfond of analogies, regard it as the negative pole of architecture, or,\nagain, as its minor key. In the interest of good taste I must wish that\ngreat wealth will be devoted to that which is objectively, _i.e._,\nactually, good and right, to what in itself is beautiful, but not to that\nwhose value depends merely upon the association of ideas. Now when I see\nhow this unbelieving age so diligently finishes the Gothic churches left\nincomplete by the believing Middle Ages, it looks to me as if it were\ndesired to embalm a dead Christianity.\n\n\n\n\nChapter XXXVI.(20) Isolated Remarks On The \u00c6sthetics Of The Plastic And\nPictorial Arts.\n\n\nIn sculpture beauty and grace are the principal things; but in painting\nexpression, passion, and character predominate; therefore just so much of\nthe claims of beauty must be neglected. For a perfect beauty of all forms,\nsuch as sculpture demands, would detract from the characteristic and weary\nby monotony. Accordingly painting may also present ugly faces and\nemaciated figures; sculpture, on the other hand, demands beauty, although\nnot always perfect, but, throughout, strength and fulness of the figures.\nConsequently a thin Christ upon the Cross, a dying St. Jerome, wasted by\nage and disease, like the masterpiece of Domenichino, is a proper subject\nfor painting; while, on the contrary, the marble figure by Donatello, in\nthe gallery at Florence, of John the Baptist, reduced to skin and bone by\nfasting, has, in spite of the masterly execution, a repulsive effect. From\nthis point of view sculpture seems suitable for the affirmation, painting\nfor the negation, of the will to live, and from this it may be explained\nwhy sculpture was the art of the ancients, while painting has been the art\nof the Christian era.\n\nIn connection with the exposition given in \u00a7 45 of the first volume, that\nthe discovery, recognition, and retention of the type of human beauty\ndepends to a certain extent upon an anticipation of it, and therefore in\npart has an _a priori_ foundation, I find that I have yet to bring out\nclearly the fact that this anticipation nevertheless requires experience,\nby which it may be stirred up; analogous to the instinct of the brutes,\nwhich, although guiding the action _a priori_, yet requires determination\nby motives in the details of it. Experience and reality present to the\nintellect of the artist human forms, which, in one part or another, are\nmore or less true to nature, as if it were asking for his judgment\nconcerning them, and thus, after the Socratic method, call forth from that\nobscure anticipation the distinct and definite knowledge of the ideal.\nTherefore it assisted the Greek sculptors very much that the climate and\ncustoms of their country gave them opportunity the whole day of seeing\nhalf\u2010naked forms, and in the gymnasium entirely naked forms. In this way\nevery limb presented its plastic significance to criticism, and to\ncomparison with the ideal which lay undeveloped in their consciousness.\nThus they constantly exercised their judgment with regard to all forms and\nlimbs, down to their finest shades of difference; and thus, little by\nlittle, their originally dull anticipation of the ideal of human beauty\nwas raised to such distinct consciousness that they became capable of\nobjectifying it in works of art. In an entirely analogous manner some\nexperience is useful and necessary to the poet for the representation of\ncharacters. For although he does not work according to experience and\nempirical data, but in accordance with the clear consciousness of the\nnature of humanity, as he finds it within himself, yet experience serves\nthis consciousness as a pattern, incites it and gives it practice.\nAccordingly his knowledge of human nature and its varieties, although in\nthe main it proceeds _a priori_ and by anticipation, yet first receives\nlife, definiteness, and compass through experience. But, supporting\nourselves upon the preceding book and chapter 44 in the following book, we\ncan go still deeper into the ground of that marvellous sense of beauty of\nthe Greeks which made them alone of all nations upon earth capable of\ndiscovering the true normal type of the human form, and accordingly of\nsetting up the pattern of beauty and grace for the imitation of all ages,\nand we can say: The same thing which, if it remains unseparated from the\n_will_, gives sexual instinct with its discriminating selection, _i.e._,\n_sexual love_ (which it is well known was subject among the Greeks to\ngreat aberrations), becomes, if, by the presence of an abnormally\npreponderating intellect, it separates itself from the will and yet\nremains active, _the objective sense of beauty_ of the human form, which\nnow shows itself primarily as a critical artistic sense, but can rise to\nthe discovery and representation of the norm of all parts and proportions;\nas was the case in Phidias, Praxiteles, Scopas, &c. Then is fulfilled what\nGoethe makes the artist say\u2014\n\n\n    \u201cThat I with mind divine\n    And human hand\n    May be able to form\n    What with my wife,\n    As animal, I can and must.\u201d\n\n\nAnd again, analogous to this, that which in the poet, if it remained\nunseparated from the will, would give only worldly prudence, becomes, if\nit frees itself from the will by abnormal preponderance of the intellect,\nthe capacity for objective, dramatic representation.\n\nModern sculpture, whatever it may achieve, is still analogous to modern\nLatin poetry, and, like this, is a child of imitation, sprung from\nreminiscences. If it presumes to try to be original, it at once goes\nastray, especially upon the bad path of forming according to nature as it\nlies before it, instead of according to the proportions of the ancients.\nCanova, Thorwaldsen, and many others may be compared to Johannes Secundus\nand Owenus. It is the same with architecture, only there it is founded in\nthe art itself, the purely \u00e6sthetic part of which is of small compass, and\nwas already exhausted by the ancients; therefore the modern architect can\nonly distinguish himself in the wise application of it; and he ought to\nknow that he removes himself from good taste just so far as he departs\nfrom the style and pattern of the Greeks.\n\nThe art of the painter, considered only so far as it aims at producing the\nappearance of reality, may ultimately be referred to the fact that he\nunderstands how to separate purely what in seeing is the mere sensation,\nthus the affection of the retina, _i.e._, the only directly given\n_effect_, from its _cause_, _i.e._, the objective external world, the\nperception of which first rises in the understanding from this effect;\nwhereby, if he has technical skill, he is in a position to produce the\nsame effect in the eye through an entirely different cause, the patches of\napplied colour, from which then in the understanding of the beholder the\nsame perception again arises through the unavoidable reference of the\neffect to the ordinary cause.\n\nIf we consider how there lies something so entirely idiosyncratic, so\nthoroughly original, in every human countenance, and that it presents a\nwhole which can only belong to a unity consisting entirely of necessary\nparts by virtue of which we recognise a known individual out of so many\nthousands, even after long years, although the possible variations of\nhuman features, especially of one race, lie within very narrow limits, we\nmust doubt whether anything of such essential unity and such great\noriginality could ever proceed from any other source than from the\nmysterious depths of the inner being of nature; but from this it would\nfollow that no artist could be capable of really reproducing the original\npeculiarity of a human countenance, or even of composing it according to\nnature from recollection. Accordingly what he produced of this kind would\nalways be only a half true, nay, perhaps an impossible composition; for\nhow should he compose an actual physiognomical unity when the principle of\nthis unity is really unknown to him? Therefore, in the case of every face\nwhich has merely been imagined by an artist, we must doubt whether it is\nin fact a possible face, and whether nature, as the master of all masters,\nwould not show it to be a bungled production by pointing out complete\ncontradictions in it. This would, of course, lead to the principle that in\nhistorical paintings only portraits ought to figure, which certainly would\nthen have to be selected with the greatest care and in some degree\nidealised. It is well known that great artists have always gladly painted\nfrom living models and introduced many portraits.\n\nAlthough, as is explained in the text, the real end of painting, as of art\nin general, is to make the comprehension of the (Platonic) Ideas of the\nnature of the world easier for us, whereby we are at once thrown into the\nstate of pure, _i.e._, will\u2010less, knowing, there yet belongs to it besides\nthis an independent beauty of its own, which is produced by the mere\nharmony of the colours, the pleasingness of the grouping, the happy\ndistribution of light and shade, and the tone of the whole picture. This\naccompanying subordinate kind of beauty furthers the condition of pure\nknowing, and is in painting what the diction, the metre, and rhyme are in\npoetry; both are not what is essential, but what acts first and\nimmediately.\n\nI have some further evidence to give in support of my judgment given in\nthe first volume, \u00a7 50, on the inadmissibleness of allegory in painting.\nIn the Borghese palace at Rome there is the following picture by Michael\nAngelo Caravaggio: Jesus, as a child of about ten years old, treads upon\nthe head of a serpent, but entirely without fear and with great calmness;\nand His mother, who accompanies Him, remains quite as indifferent. Close\nby stands St. Elizabeth, looking solemnly and tragically up to heaven. Now\nwhat could be thought of this kyriological hieroglyphic by a man who had\nnever heard anything about the seed of the woman that should bruise the\nhead of the serpent? At Florence, in the library of the palace Riccardi,\nwe find the following allegory upon the ceiling, painted by Luca Giordano,\nwhich is meant to signify that science frees the understanding from the\nbonds of ignorance: the understanding is a strong man bound with cords,\nwhich are just falling off; a nymph holds a mirror in front of him,\nanother hands him a large detached wing; above sits science on a globe,\nand beside her, with a globe in her hand, the naked truth. At Ludwigsburg,\nnear Stuttgart, there is a picture which shows us time, as Saturn, cutting\noff with a pair of shears the wings of Cupid. If this is meant to signify\nthat when we grow old love proves unstable, this no doubt has its truth.\n\nThe following may serve to strengthen my solution of the problem as to why\nLaocoon does not cry out. One may practically convince oneself of the\nfaulty effect of the representation of shrieking by the works of the\nplastic and pictorial arts, which are essentially dumb, by a picture of\nthe slaughter of the innocents, by Guido Reni, which is to be found in the\nAcademy of Arts at Bologna, and in which this great artist has committed\nthe mistake of painting six shrieking wide\u2010open mouths. Let any one who\nwants to have this more distinct think of a pantomimic representation on\nthe stage, and in one of the scenes an urgent occasion for one of the\nplayers to shriek; if now the dancer who is representing this part should\nexpress the shriek by standing for a while with his mouth wide open, the\nloud laughter of the whole house would bear witness to the absurdity of\nthe thing. Accordingly, since the shrieking of Laocoon had to be avoided\nfor reasons which did not lie in the objects to be represented, but in the\nnature of the representing art, the task thus arose for the artist so to\npresent this not\u2010shrieking as to make it plausible to us that a man in\nsuch a position should not shriek. He solves this problem by representing\nthe bite of the snake, not as having already taken place, nor yet as still\nthreatening, but as just happening now in the side; for thereby the lower\npart of the body is contracted, and shrieking made impossible. This\nimmediate but only subordinate reason was correctly discovered by Goethe,\nand is expounded at the end of the eleventh book of his autobiography, and\nalso in the paper on Laocoon in the first part of the Propyl\u00e6a; but the\nultimate, primary reason, which conditions this one, is that which I have\nset forth. I cannot refrain from remarking that I here stand in the same\nrelation to Goethe as with reference to the theory of colours. In the\ncollection of the Duke of Aremberg at Brussels there is an antique head of\nLaocoon which was found later. However, the head in the world\u2010renowned\ngroup is not a restored one which follows from Goethe\u2019s special table of\nall the restorations of this group, which is given at the end of the first\nvolume of the Propyl\u00e6a, and is also confirmed by the fact that the head\nwhich was found later resembles that of the group very much. Thus we must\nassume that another antique repetition of the group has existed to which\nthe Aremberg head belonged. In my opinion the latter excels both in beauty\nand expression that of the group. It has the mouth decidedly wider open\nthan in the group, yet not really to the extent of shrieking.\n\n\n\n\nChapter XXXVII.(21) On The \u00c6sthetics Of Poetry.\n\n\nI might give it as the simplest and most correct definition of poetry,\nthat it is the art of bringing the imagination into play by means of\nwords. How it brings this to pass I have shown in the first volume, \u00a7 51.\nA special confirmation of what is said there is afforded by the following\npassage in a letter of Wieland\u2019s to Merck, which has since then been\npublished: \u201cI have spent two days and a half upon a single stanza, in\nwhich the whole thing ultimately depended upon a single word which I\nwanted and could not find. I revolved and turned about the thing and my\nbrain in all directions, because naturally, where a picture was in\nquestion, I desired to bring the same definite vision, which floated\nbefore my own mind into the mind of my reader also, and for this all often\ndepends, _ut nosti_, upon a single touch or suggestion or reflex\u201d (_Briefe\nan Merck_, edited by Wagner, 1835, p. 193). From the fact that the\nimagination of the reader is the material in which poetry exhibits its\npictures, it has the advantage that the fuller development of these\npictures and their finer touches, take place in the imagination of every\none just as is most suitable to his individuality, his sphere of\nknowledge, and his humour, and therefore move him in the most lively\nmanner; instead of which plastic and pictorial art cannot so adapt itself,\nbut here _one_ picture, _one_ form, must satisfy all. And yet this will\nalways bear in some respect the stamp of the individuality of the artist\nor of his model, as a subjective or accidental and inefficient addition;\nalthough always less so the more objective, _i.e._, the more of a genius,\nthe artist is. This, to some extent, explains why works of poetry exercise\na much stronger, deeper, and more universal effect than pictures and\nstatues; the latter, for the most part, leave the common people quite\ncold; and, in general, the plastic arts are those which have the weakest\neffect. A remarkable proof of this is afforded by the frequent discovery\nand disclosure of pictures by great masters in private houses and all\nkinds of localities, where they have been hanging for many generations,\nnot buried and concealed, but merely unheeded, thus without any effect. In\nmy time (1823) there was even discovered in Florence a Madonna of\nRaphael\u2019s, which had hung for a long series of years on the wall of the\nservants\u2019 hall of a palace (in the _Quartiere di S. Spirito_); and this\nhappens among Italians, the nation which is gifted beyond all others with\nthe sense of the beautiful. It shows how little direct and immediate\neffect the works of plastic and pictorial art have, and that it requires\nmore culture and knowledge to prize them than the works of all other arts.\nHow unfailingly, on the contrary, a beautiful melody that touches the\nheart makes its journey round the world, and an excellent poem wanders\nfrom people to people. That the great and rich devote their powerful\nsupport just to the plastic and pictorial arts, and expend considerable\nsums upon _their_ works only; nay, at the present day, an idolatry, in the\nproper sense of the term, gives the value of a large estate for a picture\nof a celebrated old master\u2014this depends principally upon the rarity of the\nmasterpieces, the possession of which therefore gratifies pride; and then\nalso upon the fact that the enjoyment of them demands very little time and\neffort, and is ready at any moment, for a moment; while poetry and even\nmusic make incomparably harder conditions. Corresponding to this, the\nplastic and pictorial arts may be dispensed with; whole nations\u2014for\nexample, the Mohammedan peoples\u2014are without them, but no people is without\nmusic and poetry.\n\nBut the intention with which the poet sets our imagination in motion is to\nreveal to us the Ideas, _i.e._, to show us by an example what life and\nwhat the world is. The first condition of this is that he himself has\nknown it; according as his knowledge has been profound or superficial so\nwill his poem be. Therefore, as there are innumerable degrees of\nprofoundness and clearness in the comprehension of the nature of things,\nso are there of poets. Each of these, however, must regard himself as\nexcellent so far as he has correctly represented what he knew, and his\npicture answers to _his_ original: he must make himself equal with the\nbest, for even in the best picture he does not recognise more than in his\nown, that is, as much as he sees in nature itself; for his glance cannot\nnow penetrate deeper. But the best himself recognises himself as such in\nthe fact that he sees how superficial was the view of the others, how much\nlay beyond it which they were not able to repeat, because they did not see\nit, and how much further his own glance and picture reaches. If he\nunderstood the superficial poets as little as they do him, then he would\nnecessarily despair; for just because it requires an extraordinary man to\ndo him justice, but the inferior poets can just as little esteem him as he\ncan them, he also has long to live upon his own approval before that of\nthe world follows it. Meanwhile he is deprived even of his own approval,\nfor he is expected to be very modest. It is, however, as impossible that\nhe who has merit, and knows what it costs, should himself be blind to it,\nas that a man who is six feet high should not observe that he rises above\nothers. If from the base of the tower to the summit is 300 feet, then\ncertainly it is just as much from the summit to the base. Horace,\nLucretius, Ovid, and almost all the ancients have spoken proudly of\nthemselves, and also Dante, Shakspeare, Bacon of Verulam, and many more.\nThat one can be a great man without observing anything of it is an\nabsurdity of which only hopeless incapacity can persuade itself, in order\nthat it may regard the feeling of its own insignificance as modesty. An\nEnglishman has wittily and correctly observed that merit and modesty have\nnothing in common except the initial letter.(22) I have always a suspicion\nabout modest celebrities that they may very well be right; and Corneille\nsays directly\u2014\n\n\n    \u201cLa fausse humilit\u00e9 ne met plus en cr\u00e9dit:\n    Je s\u00e7ais ce que je vaux, et crois ce qu\u2019on m\u2019en dit.\u201d\n\n\nFinally, Goethe has frankly said, \u201cOnly good\u2010for\u2010nothings are modest.\u201d But\nthe assertion would be still more certain that those who so eagerly demand\nmodesty from others, urge modesty, unceasingly cry, \u201cOnly be modest, for\nGod\u2019s sake, only be modest!\u201d are positively good\u2010for\u2010nothings, _i.e._,\npersons entirely without merit, manufactures of nature, ordinary members\nof the great mass of humanity. For he who himself has merit also concedes\nmerit\u2014understands himself truly and really. But he who himself lacks all\nexcellence and merit wishes there was no such thing: the sight of it in\nothers stretches him upon the rack; pale, green, and yellow envy consumes\nhis heart: he would like to annihilate and destroy all those who are\npersonally favoured; but if unfortunately he must let them live, it must\nonly be under the condition that they conceal, entirely deny, nay, abjure\ntheir advantages. This, then, is the root of the frequent eulogising of\nmodesty. And if the deliverers of these eulogies have the opportunity of\nsuppressing merit as it arises, or at least of hindering it from showing\nitself or being known, who can doubt that they will do it? For this is the\npractice of their theory.\n\nNow, although the poet, like every artist, always brings before us only\nthe particular, the individual, what he has known, and wishes by his work\nto make us know, is the (Platonic) Idea, the whole species; therefore in\nhis images, as it were, the type of human characters and situations will\nbe impressed. The narrative and also the dramatic poet takes the whole\nparticular from life, and describes it accurately in its individuality,\nbut yet reveals in this way the whole of human existence; for although he\nseems to have to do with the particular, in truth he is concerned with\nthat which is everywhere and at all times. Hence it arises that sentences,\nespecially of the dramatic poets, even without being general apophthegms,\nfind frequent application in actual life. Poetry is related to philosophy\nas experience is related to empirical science. Experience makes us\nacquainted with the phenomenon in the particular and by means of examples,\nscience embraces the whole of phenomena by means of general conceptions.\nSo poetry seeks to make us acquainted with the (Platonic) Ideas through\nthe particular and by means of examples. Philosophy aims at teaching, as a\nwhole and in general, the inner nature of things which expresses itself in\nthese. One sees even here that poetry bears more the character of youth,\nphilosophy that of old age. In fact, the gift of poetry really only\nflourishes in youth; and also the susceptibility for poetry is often\npassionate in youth: the youth delights in verses as such, and is often\ncontented with small ware. This inclination gradually diminishes with\nyears, and in old age one prefers prose. By that poetical tendency of\nyouth the sense of the real is then easily spoiled. For poetry differs\nfrom reality by the fact that in it life flows past us, interesting and\nyet painless; while in reality, on the contrary, so long as it is painless\nit is uninteresting, and as soon as it becomes interesting, it does not\nremain without pain. The youth who has been initiated into poetry earlier\nthan into reality now desires from the latter what only the former can\nachieve; this is a principal source of the discomfort which oppresses the\nmost gifted youths.\n\nMetre and rhyme are a fetter, but also a veil which the poet throws round\nhim, and under which he is permitted to speak as he otherwise dared not\ndo; and that is what gives us pleasure. He is only half responsible for\nall that he says; metre and rhyme must answer for the other half. Metre,\nor measure, as mere rhythm, has its existence only in time, which is a\npure perception _a priori_, thus, to use Kant\u2019s language, belongs merely\nto _pure sensibility_; rhyme, on the other hand, is an affair of\nsensation, in the organ of hearing, thus of _empirical sensibility_.\nTherefore rhythm is a much nobler and more worthy expedient than rhyme,\nwhich the ancients accordingly despised, and which found its origin in\nthose imperfect languages which arose from the corruption of earlier ones\nand in barbarous times. The poorness of French poetry depends principally\nupon the fact that it is confined to rhyme alone without metre, and it is\nincreased by the fact that in order to conceal its want of means it has\nincreased the difficulty of rhyming by a number of pedantic laws, such as,\nfor example, that only syllables which are written the same way rhyme, as\nif it were for the eye and not for the ear that the hiatus is forbidden;\nthat a number of words must not occur; and many such, to all of which the\nnew school of French poetry seeks to put an end. In no language, however,\nat least on me, does the rhyme make such a pleasing and powerful\nimpression as in Latin; the rhymed Latin poems of the Middle Ages have a\npeculiar charm. This must be explained from the fact that the Latin\nlanguage is incomparably more perfect, more beautiful and noble, than any\nmodern language, and now moves so gracefully in the ornaments and spangles\nwhich really belong to the latter, and which it itself originally\ndespised.\n\nTo serious consideration it might almost appear as high treason against\nour reason that even the slightest violence should be done to a thought or\nits correct and pure expression, with the childish intention that after\nsome syllables the same sound of word should be heard, or even that these\nsyllables themselves should present a kind of rhythmical beat. But without\nsuch violence very few verses would be made; for it must be attributed to\nthis that in foreign languages verses are much more difficult to\nunderstand than prose. If we could see into the secret workshops of the\npoets, we would find that the thought is sought for the rhyme ten times\noftener than the rhyme for the thought; and even when the latter is the\ncase, it is not easily accomplished without pliability on the part of the\nthought. But the art of verse bids defiance to these considerations, and,\nmoreover, has all ages and peoples upon its side, so great is the power\nwhich metre and rhyme exercise upon the feeling, and so effective the\nmysterious _lenocinium_ which belongs to them. I would explain this from\nthe fact that a happily rhymed verse, by its indescribably emphatic\neffect, raises the feeling as if the thought expressed in it lay already\npredestined, nay, performed in the language, and the poet has only had to\nfind it out. Even trivial thoughts receive from rhythm and rhyme a touch\nof importance; cut a figure in this attire, as among girls plain faces\nattract the eye by finery. Nay, even distorted and false thoughts gain\nthrough versification an appearance of truth. On the other hand, even\nfamous passages from famous poets shrink together and become insignificant\nwhen they are reproduced accurately in prose. If only the true is\nbeautiful, and the dearest ornament of truth is nakedness, then a thought\nwhich appears true and beautiful in prose will have more true worth than\none which affects us in the same way in verse. Now it is very striking,\nand well worth investigating, that such trifling, nay, apparently\nchildish, means as metre and rhyme produce so powerful an effect. I\nexplain it to myself in the following manner: That which is given directly\nto the sense of hearing, thus the mere sound of the words, receives from\nrhythm and rhyme a certain completeness and significance in itself for it\nthereby becomes a kind of music; therefore it seems now to exist for its\nown sake, and no longer as a mere means, mere signs of something\nsignified, the sense of the words. To please the ear with its sound seems\nto be its whole end, and therefore with this everything seems to be\nattained and all claims satisfied. But that it further contains a meaning,\nexpresses a thought, presents itself now as an unexpected addition, like\nwords to music\u2014as an unexpected present which agreeably surprises us\u2014and\ntherefore, since we made no demands of this kind, very easily satisfies\nus; and if indeed this thought is such that, in itself, thus said in\nprose, it would also be significant, then we are enchanted. I can\nremember, in my early childhood, that I had delighted myself for a long\ntime with the agreeable sound of verse before I made the discovery that it\nall also contained meaning and thoughts. Accordingly there is also, in all\nlanguages, a mere doggerel poetry almost entirely devoid of meaning.\nDavis, the Sinologist, in the preface to his translation of the \u201c_Laou\u2010\nsang\u2010urh_,\u201d or \u201c_An Heir in Old Age_\u201d (_London, 1817_), observes that the\nChinese dramas partly consist of verses which are sung, and adds: \u201cThe\nmeaning of them is often obscure, and, according to the statements of the\nChinese themselves, the end of these verses is especially to flatter the\near, and the sense is neglected, and even entirely sacrificed to the\nharmony.\u201d Who is not reminded here of the choruses of many Greek tragedies\nwhich are often so hard to make out?\n\nThe sign by which one most immediately recognises the genuine poet, both\nof the higher and lower species, is the unforced nature of his rhymes.\nThey have appeared of themselves as if by divine arrangement; his thoughts\ncome to him already in rhyme. The homely, prosaic man on the contrary,\nseeks the rhyme for the thought; the bungler seeks the thought for the\nrhyme. Very often one can find out from a couple of rhymed verses which of\nthe two had the thought and which had the rhyme as its father. The art\nconsists in concealing the latter, so that such lines may not appear\nalmost as mere stuffed out _boutsrim\u00e9s_.\n\nAccording to my feeling (proofs cannot here be given) rhyme is from its\nnature binary: its effect is limited to one single recurrence of the same\nsound, and is not strengthened by more frequent repetition. Thus whenever\na final syllable has received the one of the same sound its effect is\nexhausted; the third recurrence of the note acts merely as a second rhyme\nwhich accidentally hits upon the same sound, but without heightening the\neffect; it links itself on to the existing rhyme, yet without combining\nwith it to produce a stronger impression. For the first note does not\nsound through the second on to the third: therefore this is an \u00e6sthetic\npleonasm, a double courage which is of no use. Least of all, therefore, do\nsuch accumulations of rhymes merit the heavy sacrifices which they cost in\nthe octave rhyme, the terza rima, and the sonnet, and which are the cause\nof the mental torture under which we sometimes read such productions, for\npoetical pleasure is impossible under the condition of racking our brains.\nThat the great poetical mind sometimes overcomes even these forms, and\nmoves in them with ease and grace, does not extend to a recommendation of\nthe forms themselves, for in themselves they are as ineffectual as they\nare difficult. And even in good poets, when they make use of these forms,\nwe frequently see the conflict between the rhyme and the thought, in which\nnow one and now the other gains the victory; thus either the thought is\nstunted for the sake of the rhyme, or the rhyme has to be satisfied with a\nweak _\u00e0 peu pr\u00e8s_. Since this is so, I do not regard it as an evidence of\nignorance, but as a proof of good taste, that Shakspeare in his sonnets\nhas given different rhymes to each quatraine. At any rate, their acoustic\neffect is not in the least diminished by it, and the thought obtains its\nrights far more than it could have done if it had had to be laced up in\nthe customary Spanish boots.\n\nIt is a disadvantage for the poetry of a language if it has many words\nwhich cannot be used in prose, and, on the other hand, dare not use\ncertain words of prose. The former is mostly the case in Latin and Italian\npoetry, and the latter in French, where it has recently been very aptly\ncalled, \u201c_La b\u00e9geulerie de la langue fran\u00e7aise_;\u201d both are to be found\nless in English, and least in German. For such words belonging exclusively\nto poetry remain foreign to our heart, do not speak to us directly, and\ntherefore leave us cold. They are a conventional language of poetry, and\nas it were mere painted sensations instead of real ones: they exclude\ngenuine feeling.\n\nThe distinction, so often discussed in our own day, between _classic_ and\n_romantic_ poetry seems to me ultimately to depend upon the fact that the\nformer knows no other motives than those which are purely human, actual,\nand natural; the latter, on the other hand, also treats artificial\nconventional, and imaginary motives as efficient. To such belong the\nmotives which spring from the Christian mythus, also from the chivalrous\nover\u2010strained fantastical law of honour, further from the absurd and\nludicrous Germano\u2010Christian veneration of women, and lastly from doting\nand mooning hyperphysical amorousness. But even in the best poets of the\nromantic class, _e.g._, in Calderon, we can see to what ridiculous\ndistortions of human relations and human nature these motives lead. Not to\nspeak of the Autos, I merely refer to such pieces as \u201c_No siempre el peor\nes cierto_\u201d (The worst is not always certain), and \u201c_El postrero duelo en\nEspa\u00f1a_\u201d (The last duel in Spain), and similar comedies _en capa y\nespada_: with the elements mentioned there is here further associated the\nscholastic subtility so often appearing in the conversation which at that\ntime belonged to the mental culture of the higher classes. How decidedly\nadvantageous, on the contrary, is the position of the poetry of the\nancients, which always remains true to nature; and the result is that\nclassical poetry has an unconditional, romantic poetry only a conditional,\ntruth and correctness; analogous to Greek and Gothic architecture. Yet, on\nthe other hand, we must remark here that all dramatic or narrative poems\nwhich transfer their scene to ancient Greece or Rome lose by this from the\nfact that our knowledge of antiquity, especially in what concerns the\ndetails of life, is insufficient, fragmentary, and not drawn from\nperception. This obliges the poet to avoid much and to content himself\nwith generalities, whereby he becomes abstract, and his work loses that\nconcreteness and individualisation which is throughout essential to\npoetry. It is this which gives all such works the peculiar appearance of\nemptiness and tediousness. Only Shakspeare\u2019s works of this kind are free\nfrom it; because without hesitation he has presented, under the names of\nGreeks and Romans, Englishmen of his own time.\n\nIt has been objected to many masterpieces of lyrical poetry, especially\nsome Odes of Horace (see, for example, the second of the third book) and\nseveral of Goethe\u2019s songs (for example, \u201cThe Shepherd\u2019s Lament\u201d), that\nthey lack proper connection and are full of gaps in the thought. But here\nthe logical connection is intentionally neglected, in order that the unity\nof the fundamental sensation and mood may take its place, which comes out\nmore clearly just by the fact that it passes like a thread through the\nseparate pearls, and brings about the quick changes of the objects of\ncontemplation, in the same way as in music the transition from one key to\nanother is brought about by the chord of the seventh, through which the\nstill sounding fundamental note becomes the dominant of the new key. Most\ndistinctly, even exaggeratedly, the quality here described is found in the\nCanzone of Petrarch which begins, \u201c_Mai non vo\u2019 pi\u00f9 cantar, com\u2019 io\nsoleva_.\u201d\n\nAccordingly, as in the lyrical poem the subjective element predominates,\nso in the drama, on the contrary, the objective element is alone and\nexclusively present. Between the two epic poetry in all its forms and\nmodifications, from the narrative romance to the epos proper, has a broad\nmiddle path. For although in the main it is objective, yet it contains a\nsubjective element, appearing now more and now less, which finds its\nexpression in the tone, in the form of the delivery, and also in scattered\nreflections. We do not so entirely lose sight of the poet as in the drama.\n\nThe end of the drama in general is to show us in an example what is the\nnature and existence of man. The sad or the bright side of these can be\nturned to us in it, or their transitions into each other. But the\nexpression, \u201cnature and existence of man,\u201d already contains the germ of\nthe controversy whether the nature, _i.e._, the character, or the\nexistence, _i.e._, the fate, the adventures, the action, is the principal\nthing. Moreover, the two have grown so firmly together that although they\ncan certainly be separated in conception, they cannot be separated in the\nrepresentation of them. For only the circumstances, the fate, the events,\nmake the character manifest its nature, and only from the character does\nthe action arise from which the events proceed. Certainly, in the\nrepresentation, the one or the other may be made more prominent; and in\nthis respect the piece which centres in the characters and the piece which\ncentres in the plot are the two extremes.\n\nThe common end of the drama and the epic, to exhibit, in significant\ncharacters placed in significant situations, the extraordinary actions\nbrought about by both, will be most completely attained by the poet if he\nfirst introduces the characters to us in a state of peace, in which merely\ntheir general colour becomes visible, and allows a motive to enter which\nproduces an action, out of which a new and stronger motive arises, which\nagain calls forth a more significant action, which, in its turn, begets\nnew and even stronger motives, whereby, then, in the time suitable to the\nform of the poem, the most passionate excitement takes the place of the\noriginal peace, and in this now the important actions occur in which the\nqualities of the characters which have hitherto slumbered are brought\nclearly to light, together with the course of the world.\n\nGreat poets transform themselves into each of the persons to be\nrepresented, and speak out of each of them like ventriloquists; now out of\nthe hero, and immediately afterwards out of the young and innocent maiden,\nwith equal truth and naturalness: so Shakspeare and Goethe. Poets of the\nsecond rank transform the principal person to be represented into\nthemselves. This is what Byron does; and then the other persons often\nremain lifeless, as is the case even with the principal persons in the\nworks of mediocre poets.\n\nOur pleasure in tragedy belongs, not to the sense of the beautiful, but to\nthat of the sublime; nay, it is the highest grade of this feeling. For, as\nat the sight of the sublime in nature we turn away from the interests of\nthe will, in order to be purely perceptive, so in the tragic catastrophe\nwe turn away even from the will to live. In tragedy the terrible side of\nlife is presented to us, the wail of humanity, the reign of chance and\nerror, the fall of the just, the triumph of the wicked; thus the aspect of\nthe world which directly strives against our will is brought before our\neyes. At this sight we feel ourselves challenged to turn away our will\nfrom life, no longer to will it or love it. But just in this way we become\nconscious that then there still remains something over to us, which we\nabsolutely cannot know positively, but only negatively, as that which does\nnot will life. As the chord of the seventh demands the fundamental chord;\nas the colour red demands green, and even produces it in the eye; so every\ntragedy demands an entirely different kind of existence, another world,\nthe knowledge of which can only be given us indirectly just as here by\nsuch a demand. In the moment of the tragic catastrophe the conviction\nbecomes more distinct to us than ever that life is a bad dream from which\nwe have to awake. So far the effect of the tragedy is analogous to that of\nthe dynamical sublime, for like this it lifts us above the will and its\ninterests, and puts us in such a mood that we find pleasure in the sight\nof what tends directly against it. What gives to all tragedy, in whatever\nform it may appear, the peculiar tendency towards the sublime is the\nawakening of the knowledge that the world, life, can afford us no true\npleasure, and consequently is not worthy of our attachment. In this\nconsists the tragic spirit: it therefore leads to resignation.\n\nI admit that in ancient tragedy this spirit of resignation seldom appears\nand is expressed directly. \u0152dipus Colonus certainly dies resigned and\nwilling; yet he is comforted by the revenge on his country. Iphigenia at\nAulis is very willing to die; yet it is the thought of the welfare of\nGreece that comforts her, and occasions the change of her mind, on account\nof which she willingly accepts the death which at first she sought to\navoid by any means. Cassandra, in the Agamemnon of the great \u00c6schylus,\ndies willingly, \u03b1\u03c1\u03ba\u03b5\u03b9\u03c4\u03c9 \u03b2\u03b9\u03bf\u03c2 (1306); but she also is comforted by the\nthought of revenge. Hercules, in the Trachini\u00e6, submits to necessity, and\ndies composed, but not resigned. So also the Hippolytus of Euripides, in\nwhose case it surprises us that Artemis, who appears to comfort him,\npromises him temples and fame, but never points him to an existence beyond\nlife, and leaves him in death, as all gods forsake the dying:\u2014in\nChristianity they come to him; and so also in Brahmanism and Buddhism,\nalthough in the latter the gods are really exotic. Thus Hippolytus, like\nalmost all the tragic heroes of the ancients, shows submission to\ninevitable fate and the inflexible will of the gods, but no surrender of\nthe will to live itself. As the Stoic equanimity is fundamentally\ndistinguished from Christian resignation by the fact that it teaches only\npatient endurance and composed expectation of unalterably necessary evil,\nwhile Christianity teaches renunciation, surrender of the will; so also\nthe tragic heroes of the ancients show resolute subjection under the\nunavoidable blows of fate, while Christian tragedy, on the contrary, shows\nthe surrender of the whole will to live, joyful forsaking of the world in\nthe consciousness of its worthlessness and vanity. But I am also entirely\nof opinion that modern tragedy stands higher than that of the ancients.\nShakspeare is much greater than Sophocles; in comparison with Goethe\u2019s\nIphigenia one might find that of Euripides almost crude and vulgar. The\nBacch\u00e6 of Euripides is a revolting composition in favour of the heathen\npriests. Many ancient pieces have no tragic tendency at all, like the\nAlcestis and Iphigenia in Tauris of Euripides; some have disagreeable, or\neven disgusting motives, like the Antigone and Philocteles. Almost all\nshow the human race under the fearful rule of chance and error, but not\nthe resignation which is occasioned by it, and delivers from it. All\nbecause the ancients had not yet attained to the summit and goal of\ntragedy, or indeed of the view of life itself.\n\nAlthough, then, the ancients displayed little of the spirit of\nresignation, the turning away of the will from life, in their tragic\nheroes themselves, as their frame of mind, yet the peculiar tendency and\neffect of tragedy remains the awakening of that spirit in the beholder,\nthe calling up of that frame of mind, even though only temporarily. The\nhorrors upon the stage hold up to him the bitterness and worthlessness of\nlife, thus the vanity of all its struggle. The effect of this impression\nmust be that he becomes conscious, if only in obscure feeling, that it is\nbetter to tear his heart free from life, to turn his will from it, to love\nnot the world nor life; whereby then in his deepest soul, the\nconsciousness is aroused that for another kind of willing there must also\nbe another existence. For if this were not so, then the tendency of\ntragedy would not be this rising above all the ends and good things of\nlife, this turning away from it and its seductions, and the turning\ntowards another kind of existence, which already lies in this, although an\nexistence which is for us quite inconceivable. How would it, then, in\ngeneral, be possible that the exhibition of the most terrible side of\nlife, brought before our eyes in the most glaring light, could act upon us\nbeneficently, and afford us a lofty satisfaction? Fear and sympathy, in\nthe excitement of which Aristotle places the ultimate end of tragedy,\ncertainly do not in themselves belong to the agreeable sensations:\ntherefore they cannot be the end, but only the means. Thus the summons to\nturn away the will from life remains the true tendency of tragedy, the\nultimate end of the intentional exhibition of the suffering of humanity,\nand is so accordingly even where this resigned exaltation of the mind is\nnot shown in the hero himself, but is merely excited in the spectator by\nthe sight of great, unmerited, nay, even merited suffering. Many of the\nmoderns also are, like the ancients, satisfied with throwing the spectator\ninto the mood which has been described, by the objective representation of\nhuman misfortune as a whole; while others exhibit this through the change\nof the frame of mind of the hero himself, effected by suffering. The\nformer give, as it were, only the premisses, and leave the conclusion to\nthe spectator; while the latter give the conclusion, or the moral of the\nfable, also, as the change of the frame of mind of the hero, and even also\nas reflection, in the mouth of the chorus, as, for example, Schiller in\n\u201cThe Bride of Messina:\u201d \u201cLife is not the highest good.\u201d Let me remark here\nthat the genuine tragic effect of the catastrophe, thus the resignation\nand exaltation of the mind of the hero which is brought about by it,\nseldom appears so purely motived and so distinctly expressed as in the\nopera of \u201cNorma,\u201d where it comes in in the duet, \u201c_Qual cor tradisti, qual\ncor perdesti_,\u201d in which the change of the will is distinctly indicated by\nthe quietness which is suddenly introduced into the music. In general,\nthis piece\u2014regarded apart altogether from its excellent music, and also\nfrom the diction which can only be that of a libretto, and considered only\naccording to its motives and its inner economy\u2014is a highly perfect\ntragedy, a true pattern of tragic disposition of the motives, tragic\nprogress of the action, and tragic development, together with the effect\nof these upon the frame of mind of the hero, raising it above the world,\nand which is then also communicated to the spectator; indeed the effect\nattained here is the less delusive and the more indicative of the true\nnature of tragedy that no Christians, nor even Christian ideas, appear in\nit.\n\nThe neglect of the unity of time and place with which the moderns are so\noften reproached is only a fault when it goes so far that it destroys the\nunity of the action; for then there only remains the unity of the\nprincipal character, as, for example, in Shakspeare\u2019s \u201cHenry VIII.\u201d But\neven the unity of the action does not need to go so far that the same\nthing is spoken of throughout, as in the French tragedies which in general\nobserve this so strictly that the course of the drama is like a\ngeometrical line without breadth. There it is constantly a case of \u201cOnly\nget on! _Pensez \u00e0 votre affaire!_\u201d and the thing is expedited and hurried\non in a thoroughly business fashion, and no one detains himself with\nirrelevances which do not belong to it, or looks to the right or the left.\nThe Shakspearian tragedy, on the other hand, is like a line which has also\nbreadth: it takes time, _exspatiatur_: speeches and even whole scenes\noccur which do not advance the action, indeed do not properly concern it,\nby which, however, we get to know the characters or their circumstances\nmore fully, and then understand the action also more thoroughly. This\ncertainly remains the principal thing, yet not so exclusively that we\nforget that in the last instance what is aimed at is the representation of\nhuman nature and existence generally.\n\nThe dramatic or epic poet ought to know that he is fate, and should\ntherefore be inexorable, as it is; also that he is the mirror of the human\nrace, and should therefore represent very many bad and sometimes\nprofligate characters, and also many fools, buffoons, and eccentric\npersons; then also, now and again, a reasonable, a prudent, an honest, or\na good man, and only as the rarest exception a truly magnanimous man. In\nthe whole of Homer there is in my opinion no really magnanimous character\npresented, although many good and honest. In the whole of Shakspeare there\nmay be perhaps a couple of noble, though by no means transcendently noble,\ncharacters to be found; perhaps Cordelia, Coriolanus\u2014hardly more; on the\nother hand, his works swarm with the species indicated above. But\nIffland\u2019s and Kotzebue\u2019s pieces have many magnanimous characters; while\nGoldoni has done as I recommended above, whereby he shows that he stands\nhigher. On the other hand, Schiller\u2019s \u201cMinna von Barnhelm\u201d labours under\ntoo much and too universal magnanimity; but so much magnanimity as the one\nMarquis Posa displays is not to be found in the whole of Goethe\u2019s works\ntogether. There is, however, a small German piece called \u201cDuty for Duty\u2019s\nSake\u201d (a title which sounds as if it had been taken from the Critique of\nPractical Reason), which has only three characters, and yet all the three\nare of most transcendent magnanimity.\n\nThe Greeks have taken for their heroes only royal persons; and so also for\nthe most part have the moderns. Certainly not because the rank gives more\nworth to him who is acting or suffering; and since the whole thing is just\nto set human passions in play, the relative value of the objects by which\nthis happens is indifferent, and peasant huts achieve as much as kingdoms.\nMoreover, civic tragedy is by no means to be unconditionally rejected.\nPersons of great power and consideration are yet the best adapted for\ntragedy on this account, that the misfortune in which we ought to\nrecognise the fate of humanity must have a sufficient magnitude to appear\nterrible to the spectator, whoever he may be. Euripides himself says,\n\u201c\u03c6\u03b5\u03c5, \u03c6\u03b5\u03c5, \u03c4\u03b1 \u03bc\u03b5\u03b3\u03b1\u03bb\u03b1, \u03bc\u03b5\u03b3\u03b1\u03bb\u03b1 \u03ba\u03b1\u03b9 \u03c0\u03b1\u03c3\u03c7\u03b5\u03b9 \u03ba\u03b1\u03ba\u03b1\u201d (_Stob. Flor._, vol. ii. p.\n299). Now the circumstances which plunge a citizen family into want and\ndespair are in the eyes of the great or rich, for the most part, very\ninsignificant, and capable of being removed by human assistance, nay,\nsometimes even by a trifle: such spectators, therefore, cannot be\ntragically affected by them. On the other hand, the misfortunes of the\ngreat and powerful are unconditionally terrible, and also accessible to no\nhelp from without; for kings must help themselves by their own power, or\nfall. To this we have to add that the fall is greatest from a height.\nAccordingly persons of the rank of citizens lack height to fall from.\n\nIf now we have found the tendency and ultimate intention of tragedy to be\na turning to resignation, to the denial of the will to live, we shall\neasily recognise in its opposite, comedy, the incitement to the continued\nassertion of the will. It is true the comedy, like every representation of\nhuman life, without exception, must bring before our eyes suffering and\nadversity; but it presents it to us as passing, resolving itself into joy,\nin general mingled with success, victory, and hopes, which in the end\npreponderate; moreover, it brings out the inexhaustible material for\nlaughter of which life, and even its adversities themselves are filled,\nand which under all circumstances ought to keep us in a good humour. Thus\nit declares, in the result, that life as a whole is thoroughly good, and\nespecially is always amusing. Certainly it must hasten to drop the curtain\nat the moment of joy, so that we may not see what comes after; while the\ntragedy, as a rule, so ends that nothing can come after. And moreover, if\nonce we contemplate this burlesque side of life somewhat seriously, as it\nshows itself in the na\u00efve utterances and gestures which trifling\nembarrassment, personal fear, momentary anger, secret envy, and many\nsimilar emotions force upon the forms of the real life that mirrors itself\nhere, forms which deviate considerably from the type of beauty, then from\nthis side also, thus in an unexpected manner, the reflective spectator may\nbecome convinced that the existence and action of such beings cannot\nitself be an end; that, on the contrary, they can only have attained to\nexistence by an error, and that what so exhibits itself is something which\nhad better not be.\n\n\n\n\nChapter XXXVIII.(23) On History.\n\n\nIn the passage of the first volume referred to below I have fully shown\nthat more is achieved for our knowledge of mankind by poetry than by\nhistory, and why this is so; inasmuch as more real instruction was to be\nexpected from the former than from the latter. Aristotle has also\nconfessed this, for he says: \u201c\u03ba\u03b1\u03b9 \u03c6\u03b9\u03bb\u03bf\u03c3\u03bf\u03c6\u03c9\u03c4\u03b5\u03c1\u03bf\u03bd \u03ba\u03b1\u03b9 \u03c3\u03c0\u03bf\u03c5\u03b4\u03b1\u03b9\u03bf\u03c4\u03b5\u03c1\u03bf\u03bd \u03c0\u03bf\u03b9\u03b7\u03c3\u03b9\u03c2\n\u1f31\u03c3\u03c4\u03bf\u03c1\u03b9\u03b1\u03c2 \u03b5\u03c3\u03c4\u03b9\u03bd\u201d (_et res magis philosophica, et melior po\u00ebsis est quam\nhistoria_(24)), _De po\u00ebt._, c. 9. Yet, in order to cause no\nmisunderstanding as to the value of history, I wish here to express my\nthoughts about it.\n\nIn every class and species of things the facts are innumerable, the\nindividuals infinite in number, the variety of their differences\nunapproachable. At the first glance at them the curious mind becomes\ngiddy; however much it investigates, it sees itself condemned to\nignorance. But then comes science: it separates the innumerable multitude,\narranges it under generic conceptions, these again under conceptions of\nspecies, whereby it opens the path to a knowledge of the general and the\nparticular, which also comprehends the innumerable individuals, for it\nholds good of all without one being obliged to consider each particular\nfor itself. Thus it promises satisfaction to the investigating mind. Then\nall sciences place themselves together, and above the real world of\nindividual things, as that which they have divided among them. Over them\nall, however, moves philosophy, as the most general, and therefore\nimportant, rational knowledge, which promises the conclusions for which\nthe others have only prepared the way. History alone cannot properly enter\ninto that series, since it cannot boast of the same advantage as the\nothers, for it lacks the fundamental characteristic of science, the\nsubordination of what is known, instead of which it can only present its\nco\u2010ordination. Therefore there is no system of history, as there is of\nevery other science. It is therefore certainly rational knowledge, but it\nis not a science. For it never knows the particular by means of the\ngeneral, but must comprehend the particular directly, and so, as it were,\ncreeps along the ground of experience; while the true sciences move above\nit, because they have obtained comprehensive conceptions by means of which\nthey command the particular, and, at least within certain limits,\nanticipate the possibility of things within their sphere, so that they can\nbe at ease even about what may yet have to come. The sciences, since they\nare systems of conceptions, speak always of species; history speaks of\nindividuals. It would accordingly be a science of individuals, which is a\ncontradiction. It also follows that the sciences all speak of that which\nalways is as history, on the other hand, of that which is once, and then\nno more. Since, further, history has to do with the absolutely particular\nand individuals, which from its nature is inexhaustible, it knows\neverything only imperfectly and half. Besides, it must also let itself be\ntaught by every new day in its trivial commonplaceness what as yet it did\nnot know at all. If it should be objected that in history also there is\nsubordination of the particular under the general, because the periods,\nthe governments, and other general changes, or political revolutions, in\nshort, all that is given in historical tables, is the general, to which\nthe special subordinates itself, this would rest upon a false\ncomprehension of the conception of the general. For the general in history\nhere referred to is merely _subjective_, _i.e._, its generality springs\nmerely from the inadequacy of the individual knowledge of the things, but\nnot _objective_, _i.e._, a conception in which the things would actually\nalready be thought together. Even the most general in history is in itself\nonly a particular and individual, a long period of time, or an important\nevent; therefore the special is related to this as the part to the whole,\nbut not as the case to the rule; which, on the contrary, takes place in\nall the sciences proper because they afford conceptions and not mere\nfacts. On this account in these sciences by a correct knowledge of the\ngeneral we can determine with certainty the particular that arises. If,\nfor example, I know the laws of the triangle in general, I can then also\ntell what must be the properties of the triangle laid before me; and what\nholds good of all mammals, for example, that they have double ventricles\nof the heart, exactly seven cervical vertebr\u00e6, lungs, diaphragm, bladder,\nfive senses, &c., I can also assert of the strange bat which has just been\ncaught, before dissecting it. But not so in history, where the general is\nno objective general of the conception, but merely a subjective general of\nmy knowledge, which can only be called general inasmuch as it is\nsuperficial. Therefore I may always know in general of the Thirty Years\u2019\nWar that it was a religious war, waged in the seventeenth century; but\nthis general knowledge does not make me capable of telling anything more\ndefinite about its course. The same opposition is also confirmed by the\nfact that in the real sciences the special and individual is that which is\nmost certain, because it rests upon immediate apprehension; the general\ntruths, again, are only abstracted from it; therefore something false may\nbe more easily assumed in the latter. But in history, conversely, the most\ngeneral is the most certain; for example, the periods, the succession of\nthe kings, the revolutions, wars, and treaties of peace; the particulars,\nagain, of the events and their connection is uncertain, and becomes always\nmore so the further one goes into details. Therefore history is the more\ninteresting the more special it is, but the less to be trusted, and\napproaches then in every respect to the romance. For the rest, what\nimportance is to be attached to the boasted pragmatic teaching of history\nhe will best be able to judge who remembers that sometimes it was only\nafter twenty years that he understood the events of his own life in their\ntrue connection, although the data for this were fully before him, so\ndifficult is the combination of the action of the motives under the\nconstant interferences of chance and the concealment of the intentions.\nSince now history really always has for its object only the particular,\nthe individual fact, and regards this as the exclusively real, it is the\ndirect opposite and counterpart of philosophy, which considers things from\nthe most general point of view, and has intentionally the general as its\nobject, which remains identical in every particular; therefore in the\nparticular philosophy sees only the general, and recognises the change in\nits manifestation as unessential: \u03c6\u03b9\u03bb\u03bf\u03ba\u03b1\u03b8\u03bf\u03bb\u03bf\u03c5 \u03b3\u03b1\u03c1 \u1f41 \u03c6\u03b9\u03bb\u03bf\u03c3\u03bf\u03c6\u03bf\u03c2 (_generalium\namator philosophus_). While history teaches us that at every time\nsomething else has been, philosophy tries to assist us to the insight that\nat all times exactly the same was, is, and shall be. In truth, the essence\nof human life, as of nature in general, is given complete in every present\ntime, and therefore only requires depth of comprehension in order to be\nexhaustively known. But history hopes to make up for depth by length and\nbreadth; for it every present time is only a fragment which must be\nsupplemented by the past, the length of which is, however, infinite, and\nto which again an infinite future is joined. Upon this rests the\nopposition between philosophical and historical minds; the former want to\ngo to the bottom, the latter want to go through the whole series. History\nshows on every side only the same under different forms; but whoever does\nnot come to know this in one or a few will hardly attain to a knowledge of\nit by going through all the forms. The chapters of the history of nations\nare at bottom only distinguished by the names and dates; the really\nessential content is everywhere the same.\n\nNow since the material of art is the _Idea_, and the material of science\nthe _concept_, we see both occupied with that which always exists and\nconstantly in the same manner, not something which now is and now is not,\nnow is thus and now otherwise; therefore both have to do with that which\nPlato set up as the exclusive object of real rational knowledge. The\nmaterial of history, on the other hand, is the particular in its\nparticularity and contingency, which at one time is, and then for ever is\nno more, the transient complexities of a human world moved like clouds in\nthe wind, a world which is often entirely transformed by the most trifling\naccident. From this point of view the material of history appears to us as\nscarcely a worthy object of the serious and painful consideration of the\nhuman mind, the human mind which, just because it is so transitory, ought\nto choose for its consideration that which passes not away.\n\nFinally, as regards the endeavour\u2014specially introduced by the Hegelian\npseudo\u2010philosophy, everywhere so pernicious and stupefying to the mind\u2014to\ncomprehend the history of the world as a planned whole, or, as they call\nit, \u201cto construe it organically,\u201d a crude and positive realism lies at its\nfoundation, which takes the phenomenon for the inner being of the world,\nand imagines that this phenomenon, its forms and events, are the chief\nconcern; in which it is secretly supported by certain mythological notions\nwhich it tacitly assumes: otherwise one might ask for what spectators such\na comedy was really produced. For, since only the individual, and not the\nhuman race, has actual, immediate unity of consciousness, the unity of the\ncourse of life of the race is a mere fiction. Besides, as in nature only\nthe species are real, and the genera are mere abstractions, so in the\nhuman race only the individuals and their course of life are real, the\npeoples and their lives mere abstractions. Finally, constructive\nhistories, guided by a positive optimism, always ultimately end in a\ncomfortable, rich, fat State, with a well\u2010regulated constitution, good\njustice and police, useful arts and industries, and, at the most, in\nintellectual perfection; for this, in fact, is alone possible, since what\nis moral remains essentially unaltered. But it is the moral element which,\naccording to the testimony of our inmost consciousness, is the whole\nconcern: and this lies only in the individual as the tendency of his will.\nIn truth, only the life of each individual has unity, connection, and true\nsignificance: it is to be regarded as an instruction, and the meaning of\nit is moral. Only the incidents of our _inner_ life, since they concern\nthe will, have true reality, and are actual events; because the will alone\nis the thing in itself. In every microcosm lies the whole macrocosm, and\nthe latter contains nothing more than the former. Multiplicity is\nphenomenal, and external events are mere configurations of the phenomenal\nworld, and have therefore directly neither reality nor significance, but\nonly indirectly through their relation to the wills of the individuals.\nThe endeavour to explain and interpret them directly is accordingly like\nthe endeavour to see in the forms of the clouds groups of men and animals.\nWhat history narrates is in fact only the long, heavy, and confused dream\nof humanity.\n\nThe Hegelians, who regard the philosophy of history as indeed the chief\nend of all philosophy, are to be referred to Plato, who unweariedly\nrepeats that the object of philosophy is that which is unchangeable and\nalways remains, not that which now is thus and now otherwise. All those\nwho set up such constructions of the course of the world, or, as they call\nit, of history, have failed to grasp the principal truth of all\nphilosophy, that what is is at all times the same, all becoming and\narising are only seeming; the Ideas alone are permanent; time ideal. This\nis what Plato holds, this is what Kant holds. One ought therefore to seek\nto understand what exists, what really is, to\u2010day and always, _i.e._, to\nknow the Ideas (in Plato\u2019s sense). Fools, on the contrary, imagine that\nsomething must first become and happen. Therefore they concede to history\nthe chief place in their philosophy, and construct it according to a\npreconceived plan of the world, according to which everything is ordered\nfor the best, which is then supposed _finaliter_ to appear, and will be a\nglorious thing. Accordingly they take the world as perfectly real, and\nplace the end of it in the poor earthly happiness, which, however much it\nmay be fostered by men and favoured by fate, is a hollow, deceptive,\ndecaying, and sad thing, out of which neither constitutions and legal\nsystems nor steam\u2010engines and telegraphs can ever make anything that is\nessentially better. The said philosophers and glorifiers of history are\naccordingly simple realists, and also optimists and eud\u00e6monists,\nconsequently dull fellows and incarnate philistines; and besides are\nreally bad Christians, for the true spirit and kernel of Christianity, as\nalso of Brahmanism and Buddhism, is the knowledge of the vanity of earthly\nhappiness, the complete contempt for it, and the turning away from it to\nan existence of another, nay, an opposite, kind. This, I say, is the\nspirit and end of Christianity, the true \u201chumour of the matter;\u201d and not,\nas they imagine, monotheism; therefore even atheistic Buddhism is far more\nclosely related to Christianity than optimistic Judaism or its variety\nIslamism.\n\nA true philosophy of history ought not therefore to consider, as all these\ndo, what (to use Plato\u2019s language) always _becomes_ and never _is_, and\nhold this to be the true nature of things; but it ought to fix its\nattention upon that which always is and never becomes nor passes away.\nThus it does not consist in raising the temporal ends of men to eternal\nand absolute ends, and then with art and imagination constructing their\nprogress through all complications; but in the insight that not only in\nits development, but in its very nature, history is mendacious; for,\nspeaking of mere individuals and particular events, it pretends always to\nrelate something different, while from beginning to end it repeats always\nthe same thing under different names and in a different dress. The true\nphilosophy of history consists in the insight that in all these endless\nchanges and their confusion we have always before us only the same, even,\nunchanging nature, which to\u2010day acts in the same way as yesterday and\nalways; thus it ought to recognise the identical in all events, of ancient\nas of modern times, of the east as of the west; and, in spite of all\ndifference of the special circumstances, of the costume and the customs,\nto see everywhere the same humanity. This identical element which is\npermanent through all change consists in the fundamental qualities of the\nhuman heart and head\u2014many bad, few good. The motto of history in general\nshould run: _Eadem, sed aliter_. If one has read Herodotus, then in a\nphilosophical regard one has already studied history enough. For\neverything is already there that makes up the subsequent history of the\nworld: the efforts, action, sufferings, and fate of the human race as it\nproceeds from the qualities we have referred to, and the physical earthly\nlot.\n\nIf in what has been said we have recognised that history, regarded as a\nmeans for the knowledge of the nature of man, is inferior to poetry; then,\nthat it is not in the proper sense a science; finally, that the endeavour\nto construct it as a whole with beginning, middle, and end, together with\na significant connection, is vain, and based upon misunderstanding: it\nwould look as if we wished to deny it all value if we did not show in what\nits value consists. Really, however, there remains for it, after this\nconquest by art and rejection by science, a quite special province,\ndifferent from both, in which it exists most honourably.\n\n_What reason is to the individual that is history to the human race._ By\nvirtue of reason, man is not, like the brute, limited to the narrow,\nperceptible present, but also knows the incomparably more extended past,\nwith which it is linked, and out of which it has proceeded; and only thus\nhas he a proper understanding of the present itself, and can even draw\ninferences as to the future. The brute, on the other hand, whose\nknowledge, devoid of reflection, is on this account limited to the\npresent, even when it is tamed, moves about among men ignorant, dull,\nstupid, helpless, and dependent. Analogous to this is the nation that does\nnot know its own history, is limited to the present of the now living\ngeneration, and therefore does not understand itself and its own present,\nbecause it cannot connect it with a past, and explain it from this; still\nless can it anticipate the future. Only through history does a nation\nbecome completely conscious of itself. Accordingly history is to be\nregarded as the rational consciousness of the human race, and is to the\nrace what the reflected and connected consciousness is to the individual\nwho is conditioned by reason, a consciousness through the want of which\nthe brute is confined to the narrow, perceptible present. Therefore every\ngap in history is like a gap in the recollective self\u2010consciousness of a\nman; and in the presence of a monument of ancient times which has outlived\nthe knowledge of itself, as, for example, the Pyramids, or temples and\npalaces in Yucatan, we stand as senseless and stupid as the brute in the\npresence of the action of man, in which it is implicated in his service;\nor as a man before something written in an old cipher of his own, the key\nto which he has forgotten; nay, like a somnambulist who finds before him\nin the morning what he has done in his sleep. In this sense, then, history\nis to be regarded as the reason, or the reflected consciousness, of the\nhuman race, and takes the place of an immediate self\u2010consciousness common\nto the whole race, so that only by virtue of it does the human race come\nto be a whole, come to be a humanity. This is the true value of history,\nand accordingly the universal and predominating interest in it depends\nprincipally upon the fact that it is a personal concern of the human race.\nNow, what language is for the reason of individuals, as an indispensable\ncondition of its use, writing is for the reason of the whole race here\npointed out; for only with this does its real existence begin, as that of\nthe individual reason begins first with language. Writing serves to\nrestore unity to the consciousness of the human race, which is constantly\ninterrupted by death, and therefore fragmentary; so that the thought which\nhas arisen in the ancestor is thought out by his remote descendant; it\nfinds a remedy for the breaking up of the human race and its consciousness\ninto an innumerable number of ephemeral individuals, and so bids defiance\nto the ever hurrying time, in whose hand goes forgetfulness. As an attempt\nto accomplish this we must regard not only written, but also _stone_\nmonuments, which in part are older than the former. For who will believe\nthat those who, at incalculable cost, set in action the human powers of\nmany thousands for many years in order to construct the pyramids,\nmonoliths, rock tombs, obelisks, temples, and palaces which have already\nexisted for thousands of years, could have had in view the short span of\ntheir own life, too short to let them see the finishing of the\nconstruction, or even the ostensible end which the ignorance of the many\nrequired them to allege? Clearly their real end was to speak to their\nlatest descendants, to put themselves in connection with these, and so to\nestablish the unity of the consciousness of humanity. The buildings of the\nHindus, the Egyptians, even the Greeks and Romans, were calculated to last\nseveral thousand years, because through higher culture their horizon was a\nwider one; while the buildings of the Middle Ages and of modern times have\nonly been intended, at the most, to last a few centuries; which, however,\nis also due to the fact that men trusted more to writing after its use had\nbecome general, and still more since from its womb was born the art of\nprinting. Yet even in the buildings of more recent times we see the desire\nto speak to posterity; and, therefore, it is shameful if they are\ndestroyed or disfigured in order to serve low utilitarian ends. Written\nmonuments have less to fear from the elements, but more to fear from\nbarbarians, than stone ones; they accomplish far more. The Egyptians\nwished to combine the two, for they covered their stone monuments with\nhieroglyphics, nay, they added paintings in case the hieroglyphics should\nno longer be understood.\n\n\n\n\nChapter XXXIX.(25) On The Metaphysics Of Music.\n\n\nThe outcome, or result, of my exposition of the peculiar significance of\nthis wonderful art, which is given in the passage of the first volume\nreferred to below, and which will here be present to the mind of the\nreader, was, that there is indeed no resemblance between its productions\nand the world as idea, _i.e._, the world of nature, but yet there must be\na distinct _parallelism_, which was then also proved. I have yet to add\nsome fuller particulars with regard to this parallelism, which are worthy\nof attention.\n\nThe four voices, or parts, of all harmony, the bass, the tenor, the alto,\nand the soprana, or the fundamental note, the third, the fifth, and the\noctave, correspond to the four grades in the series of existences, the\nmineral kingdom, the vegetable kingdom, the brute kingdom, and man. This\nreceives an additional and striking confirmation in the fundamental rule\nof music, that the bass must be at a much greater distance below the three\nupper parts than they have between themselves; so that it must never\napproach nearer to them than at the most within an octave of them, and\ngenerally remains still further below them. Hence, then, the correct triad\nhas its place in the third octave from the fundamental note. Accordingly\nthe effect of _extended_ harmony, in which the bass is widely separated\nfrom the other parts, is much more powerful and beautiful than that of\n_close_ harmony, in which it is moved up nearer to them, and which is only\nintroduced on account of the limited compass of the instruments. This\nwhole rule, however, is by no means arbitrary, but has its root in the\nnatural source of the tonal system; for the nearest consonant intervals\nthat sound along with the fundamental note by means of its vibrations are\nthe octave and its fifth. Now, in this rule we recognise the analogue of\nthe fundamental characteristic of nature on account of which organised\nbeings are much more nearly related to each other than to the inanimate,\nunorganised mass of the mineral kingdom, between which and them exists the\nmost definite boundary and the widest gulf in the whole of nature. The\nfact that the high voice which sings the melody is yet also an integral\npart of the harmony, and therein accords even with the deepest fundamental\nbass, may be regarded as the analogue of the fact that _the same_ matter\nwhich in a human organism is the supporter of the Idea of man must yet\nalso exhibit and support the Ideas of gravitation and chemical qualities,\nthat is, of the lowest grades of the objectification of will.\n\nThat music acts directly upon the will, _i.e._, the feelings, passions,\nand emotions of the hearer, so that it quickly raises them or changes\nthem, may be explained from the fact that, unlike all the other arts, it\ndoes not express the Ideas, or grades of the objectification of the will,\nbut directly the _will itself_.\n\nAs surely as music, far from being a mere accessory of poetry, is an\nindependent art, nay, the most powerful of all the arts, and therefore\nattains its ends entirely with means of its own, so surely does it not\nstand in need of the words of the song or the action of an opera. Music as\nsuch knows the tones or notes alone, but not the causes which produce\nthese. Accordingly, for it even the human voice is originally and\nessentially nothing else than a modified tone, just like that of an\ninstrument; and, like every other tone, it has the special advantages and\ndisadvantages which are a consequence of the instrument that produces it.\nNow, in this case, that this same instrument, as the organ of speech, also\nserves to communicate conceptions is an accidental circumstance, which\nmusic can certainly also make use of, in order to enter into a connection\nwith poetry; but it must never make this the principal matter, and concern\nitself entirely with the expression of what for the most part, nay (as\nDiderot gives us to understand in _Le Neveu de Rameau_), essentially are\ninsipid verses. The words are and remain for the music a foreign addition,\nof subordinate value, for the effect of the tones is incomparably more\npowerful, more infallible, and quicker than that of the words. Therefore,\nif words become incorporated in music, they must yet assume an entirely\nsubordinate position, and adapt themselves completely to it. But the\nrelation appears reversed in the case of the given poetry, thus the song\nor the libretto of an opera to which music is adapted. For the art of\nmusic at once shows in these its power and higher fitness, disclosing the\nmost profound ultimate and secret significance of the feeling expressed in\nthe words or the action presented in the opera, giving utterance to their\npeculiar and true nature, and teaching us the inmost soul of the actions\nand events whose mere clothing and body is set before us on the stage.\nWith regard to this superiority of the music, and also because it stands\nto the libretto and the action in the relation of the universal to the\nparticular, of the rule to the example, it might perhaps appear more\nfitting that the libretto should be written for the music than that the\nmusic should be composed for the libretto. However, in the customary\nmethod, the words and actions of the libretto lead the composer to the\naffections of the will which lie at their foundation, and call up in him\nthe feelings to be expressed; they act, therefore, as a means of exciting\nhis musical imagination. Moreover, that the addition of poetry to music is\nso welcome to us, and a song with intelligible words gives us such deep\nsatisfaction, depends upon the fact that in this way our most direct and\nmost indirect ways of knowing are called into play at once and in\nconnection. The most direct is that for which music expresses the emotions\nof the will itself, and the most indirect that of conceptions denoted by\nwords. When the language of the feelings is in question the reason does\nnot willingly sit entirely idle. Music is certainly able with the means at\nits own disposal to express every movement of the will, every feeling; but\nby the addition of words we receive besides this the objects of these\nfeelings, the motives which occasion them. The music of an opera, as it is\npresented in the score, has a completely independent, separate, and, as it\nwere, abstract existence for itself, to which the incidents and persons of\nthe piece are foreign, and which follows its own unchanging rules;\ntherefore it can produce its full effect without the libretto. But this\nmusic, since it was composed with reference to the drama, is, as it were,\nthe soul of the latter; for, in its connection with the incidents,\npersons, and words, it becomes the expression of the inner significance of\nall those incidents, and of their ultimate and secret necessity which\ndepends upon this significance. The pleasure of the spectator, unless he\nis a mere gaper, really depends upon an indistinct feeling of this. Yet in\nthe opera music also shows its heterogeneous nature and higher reality by\nits entire indifference to the whole material of the incidents; in\nconsequence of which it everywhere expresses the storm of the passions and\nthe pathos of the feelings in the same way, and its tones accompany the\npiece with the same pomp, whether Agamemnon and Achilles or the\ndissensions of a bourgeois family form its material. For only the\npassions, the movements of the will, exist for it, and, like God, it sees\nonly the hearts. It never assimilates itself to the natural; and\ntherefore, even when it accompanies the most ludicrous and extravagant\nfarces of the comic opera, it still preserves its essential beauty,\npurity, and sublimity; and its fusion with these incidents is unable to\ndraw it down from its height, to which all absurdity is really foreign.\nThus the profound and serious significance of our existence hangs over the\nfarce and the endless miseries of human life, and never leaves it for a\nmoment.\n\nIf we now cast a glance at purely instrumental music, a symphony of\nBeethoven presents to us the greatest confusion, which yet has the most\nperfect order at its foundation, the most vehement conflict, which is\ntransformed the next moment into the most beautiful concord. It is _rerum\nconcordia discors_, a true and perfect picture of the nature of the world\nwhich rolls on in the boundless maze of innumerable forms, and through\nconstant destruction supports itself. But in this symphony all human\npassions and emotions also find utterance; joy, sorrow, love, hatred,\nterror, hope, &c., in innumerable degrees, yet all, as it were, only _in\nabstracto_, and without any particularisation; it is their mere form\nwithout the substance, like a spirit world without matter. Certainly we\nhave a tendency to realise them while we listen, to clothe them in\nimagination with flesh and bones, and to see in them scenes of life and\nnature on every hand. Yet, taken generally, this is not required for their\ncomprehension or enjoyment, but rather imparts to them a foreign and\narbitrary addition: therefore it is better to apprehend them in their\nimmediacy and purity.\n\nSince now, in the foregoing remarks, and also in the text, I have\nconsidered music only from the metaphysical side, that is, with reference\nto the inner significance of its performances, it is right that I should\nnow also subject to a general consideration the means by which, acting\nupon our mind, it brings these about; therefore that I should show the\nconnection of that metaphysical side of music, and the physical side,\nwhich has been fully investigated, and is well known, I start from the\ntheory which is generally known, and has by no means been shaken by recent\nobjections, that all harmony of the notes depends upon the coincidence of\ntheir vibrations, which when two notes sound together occurs perhaps at\nevery second, or at every third, or at every fourth vibration, according\nto which, then, they are the octave, the fifth, or the fourth of each\nother, and so on. So long as the vibrations of two notes have a rational\nrelation to each other, which can be expressed in small numbers, they can\nbe connected together in our apprehension through their constantly\nrecurring coincidence: the notes become blended, and are thereby in\nconsonance. If, on the other hand, that relation is an irrational one, or\none which can only be expressed in larger numbers, then no coincidence of\nthe vibrations which can be apprehended occurs, but _obstrepunt sibi\nperpetuo_, whereby they resist being joined together in our apprehension,\nand accordingly are called a dissonance. Now, according to this theory,\nmusic is a means of making rational and irrational relations of numbers\ncomprehensible, not like arithmetic by the help of the concept, but by\nbringing them to a knowledge which is perfectly directly and\nsimultaneously sensible. Now the connection of the metaphysical\nsignificance of music with this its physical and arithmetical basis\ndepends upon the fact that what resists our _apprehension_, the irrational\nrelation, or the dissonance, becomes the natural type of what resists our\n_will_; and, conversely, the consonance, or the rational relation, which\neasily adapts itself to our apprehension, becomes the type of the\nsatisfaction of the will. And further, since that rational and irrational\nelement in the numerical relations of the vibrations admits of innumerable\ndegrees, shades of difference, sequences, and variations, by means of it\nmusic becomes the material in which all the movements of the human heart,\n_i.e._, of the will, movements whose essential nature is always\nsatisfaction and dissatisfaction, although in innumerable degrees, can be\nfaithfully portrayed and rendered in all their finest shades and\nmodifications, which takes place by means of the invention of the melody.\nThus we see here the movements of the will transferred to the province of\nthe mere idea, which is the exclusive scene of the achievements of the\nfine arts, for they absolutely demand that the _will itself_ shall not\ninterfere, and that we shall conduct ourselves as pure _knowing_ subjects.\nTherefore the affections of the will itself, thus actual pain and actual\npleasure, must not be excited, but only their substitutes, that which is\nagreeable to _the intellect_, as a _picture_ of the satisfaction of the\nwill, and that which is more or less repugnant to it, as a _picture_ of\ngreater or less pain. Only thus does music never cause us actual sorrow,\nbut even in its most melancholy strains is still pleasing, and we gladly\nhear in its language the secret history of our will, and all its emotions\nand strivings, with their manifold protractions, hindrances, and griefs,\neven in the saddest melodies. When, on the other hand, in reality and its\nterrors, it is our _will itself_ that is roused and tormented, we have not\nthen to do with tones and their numerical relations, but are rather now\nourselves the trembling string that is stretched and twanged.\n\nBut, further, because, in consequence of the physical theory which lies at\nits foundation, the musical quality of the notes is in the proportion of\nthe rapidity of their vibrations, but not in their relative strength, the\nmusical ear always follows by preference, in harmony, the highest note,\nnot the loudest. Therefore, even in the case of the most powerful\norchestral accompaniment, the soprano comes out clearly, and thus receives\na natural right to deliver the melody. And this is also supported by its\ngreat flexibility, which depends upon the same rapidity of the vibrations,\nand shows itself in the ornate passages, whereby the soprano becomes the\nsuitable representative of the heightened sensibility, susceptible to the\nslightest impression, and determinable by it, consequently of the most\nhighly developed consciousness standing on the uppermost stage of the\nscale of being. Its opposite, from converse causes, is the bass,\ninflexible, rising and falling only in great intervals, thirds, fourths,\nand fifths, and also at every step guided by rigid rules. It is therefore\nthe natural representative of the inorganic kingdom of nature, which is\ninsensible, insusceptible to fine impressions, and only determinable\naccording to general laws. It must indeed never rise by one tone, for\nexample, from a fourth to a fifth, for this produces in the upper parts\nthe incorrect consecutive fifths and octaves; therefore, originally and in\nits own nature, it can never present the melody. If, however, the melody\nis assigned to it, this happens by means of counterpoint, _i.e._, it is an\n_inverted_ bass\u2014one of the upper parts is lowered and disguised as a bass;\nproperly speaking, it then requires a second fundamental bass as its\naccompaniment. This unnaturalness of a melody lying in the bass is the\nreason why bass airs, with full accompaniment, never afford us pure,\nundisturbed pleasure, like the soprano air, which, in the connection of\nharmony, is alone natural. We may remark in passing that such a melodious\nbass, forcibly obtained by inversion, might, in keeping with our\nmetaphysic of music, be compared to a block of marble to which the human\nform has been imparted: and therefore it is wonderfully suitable to the\nstone guest in \u201cDon Juan.\u201d\n\nBut now we shall try to get somewhat nearer the foundation of the genesis\nof melody, which can be accomplished by analysing it into its constituent\nparts, and in any case will afford us the pleasure which arises from\nbringing to abstract and distinct consciousness what every one knows in\nthe concrete, so that it gains the appearance of novelty.\n\nMelody consists of two elements, the one rhythmical, the other harmonious.\nThe former may also be described as the quantitative, the latter as the\nqualitative element, since the first is concerned with the duration, and\nthe second with the pitch of the notes. In the writing of music the former\ndepends upon the perpendicular, and the latter upon the horizontal lines.\nPurely arithmetical relations, thus relations of time, lie at the\nfoundation of both; in the one case the relative duration of the notes, in\nthe other the relative rapidity of their vibrations. The rhythmical\nelement is the essential; for it can produce a kind of melody of itself\nalone, and without the other, as, for example, on the drum; yet complete\nmelody requires both elements. It consists in an alternating _disunion and\nreconciliation_ of them, as I shall show immediately; but first, since I\nhave already spoken of the harmonious element in what has been said, I\nwish to consider the rhythmical element somewhat more closely.\n\n_Rhythm_ is in time what _symmetry_ is in space, division into equal parts\ncorresponding to each other. First, into larger parts, which again fall\ninto smaller parts, subordinate to the former. In the series of the arts\ngiven by me _architecture_ and _music_ are the two extreme ends. Moreover,\naccording to their inner nature, their power, the extent of their spheres,\nand their significance, they are the most heterogeneous, indeed true\nantipodes. This opposition extends even to the form of their appearance,\nfor architecture is in space alone, without any connection with time; and\nmusic is in time alone, without any connection with space.(26) Now hence\nsprings their one point of analogy, that as in architecture that which\norders and holds together is _symmetry_, in music it is _rhythm_, and thus\nhere also it holds true that extremes meet. As the ultimate constituent\nparts of a building are the exactly similar stones, so the ultimate\nconstituent parts of a musical composition are the exactly similar beats;\nyet by being weak or strong, or in general by the measure, which denotes\nthe species of time, these are divided into equal parts, which may be\ncompared to the dimensions of the stone. The musical period consists of\nseveral bars, and it has also two equal parts, one rising, aspiring,\ngenerally going to the dominant, and one sinking, quieting, returning to\nthe fundamental note. Two or several periods constitute a part, which in\ngeneral is also symmetrically doubled by the sign of repetition; two parts\nmake a small piece of music, or only a movement of a larger piece; and\nthus a concerto or sonata usually consists of three movements, a symphony\nof four, and a mass of five. Thus we see the musical composition bound\ntogether and rounded off as a whole, by symmetrical distribution and\nrepeated division, down to the beats and their fractions, with thorough\nsubordination, superordination, and co\u2010ordination of its members, just as\na building is connected and rounded off by its symmetry. Only in the\nlatter that is exclusively in space which in the former is exclusively in\ntime. The mere feeling of this analogy has in the last thirty years called\nforth the oft\u2010repeated, daring witticism, that architecture is frozen\nmusic. The origin of this can be traced to Goethe; for, according to\nEckermann\u2019s \u201cConversations,\u201d vol. ii. p. 88, he said: \u201cI have found among\nmy papers a page on which I call architecture a rigidified music; and\nreally there is something in it; the mood which is produced by\narchitecture approaches the effect of music.\u201d Probably he let fall this\nwitticism much earlier in conversation, and in that case it is well known\nthat there were never wanting persons to pick up what he so let fall that\nthey might afterwards go about decked with it. For the rest, whatever\nGoethe may have said, the analogy of music and architecture, which is here\nreferred by me to its sole ground, the analogy of rhythm with symmetry,\nextends accordingly only to the outward form, and by no means to the inner\nnature of the two arts, which is entirely different. Indeed it would be\nabsurd to wish to put on the same level in essential respects the most\nlimited and the weakest of all the arts, and the most far\u2010reaching and\npowerful. As an amplification of the analogy pointed out, we might add\nfurther, that when music, as it were in a fit of desire for independence,\nseizes the opportunity of a pause to free itself from the control of\nrhythm, to launch out into the free imagination of an ornate _cadenza_,\nsuch a piece of music divested of all rhythm is analogous to the ruin\nwhich is divested of symmetry, and which accordingly may be called, in the\nbold language of the witticism, a frozen _cadenza_.\n\nAfter this exposition of _rhythm_, I have now to show how the nature of\nmelody consists in the constantly renewed _disunion and reconciliation_ of\nthe rhythmical, and the harmonious elements of it. Its harmonious element\nhas as its assumption the fundamental note, as the rhythmical element has\nthe species of time, and consists in a wandering from it through all the\nnotes of the scale, until by shorter or longer digressions it reaches a\nharmonious interval, generally the dominant or sub\u2010dominant, which affords\nit an incomplete satisfaction; and then follows, by a similarly long path,\nits return to the fundamental note, with which complete satisfaction\nappears. But both must so take place that the attainment of the interval\nreferred to and the return to the fundamental note correspond with certain\nfavourite points of the rhythm, otherwise it will not work. Thus, as the\nharmonious succession of sounds requires certain notes, first of all the\ntonic, next to it the dominant, and so on, so rhythm, on its part,\nrequires certain _points of time_, certain numbered bars, and certain\nparts of these bars, which are called strong or good beats, or the\naccented parts of the bar, in opposition to the weak or bad beats, or\nunaccented parts of the bar. Now the disunion of these two fundamental\nelements consists in this, that because the demand of one is satisfied\nthat of the other is not; and their reconciliation consists in this, that\nboth are satisfied at once and together. That wandering of the notes until\nthey find a more or less harmonious interval must so take place that this\ninterval is attained only after a definite number of bars, and also at an\naccented part of the bar, and in this way becomes for it a kind of\nresting\u2010point; and similarly the return to the keynote must take place\nafter a like number of bars, and also at an accented part of the bar, and\nthus complete satisfaction is then attained. So long as this required\ncoincidence of the satisfaction of both elements is not attained, the\nrhythm, on the one hand, may follow its regular course, and, on the other\nhand, the required notes may occur often enough, but yet they will remain\nentirely without that effect through which melody arises. The following\nvery simple example may serve to illustrate this:\u2014\n\n                          [Illustration: Music]\n\nHere the harmonious sequence of notes finds the keynote just at the end of\nthe first bar; but it does not receive any satisfaction from this, because\nthe rhythm is caught at the least accented part of the bar. Immediately\nafterwards, in the second bar, the rhythm has the accented part of the\nbar, but the sequence of notes has arrived at the seventh. Thus here the\ntwo elements of melody are entirely _disunited_; and we feel disquieted.\nIn the second half of the period everything is reversed, and in the last\nnote they are _reconciled_. This kind of thing can be shown in every\nmelody, although generally in a much more extended form. Now the constant\ndisunion and reconciliation of its two elements which there takes place\nis, when metaphysically considered, the copy of the origination of new\nwishes, and then of their satisfaction. Thus, by flattery, music\npenetrates into our hearts, for it presents the image of the complete\nsatisfaction of its wishes. More closely considered, we see in this\nprocedure of melody a condition which, to a certain extent, is _inward_\n(the harmonious) meet with an _outward_ condition (the rhythmical), as if\nby an _accident_,\u2014which is certainly brought about by the composer, and\nwhich may, so far, be compared to rhyme in poetry. But this is just the\ncopy of the meeting of our wishes with the favourable outward\ncircumstances which are independent of them, and is thus the picture of\nhappiness. The effect of the _suspension_ also deserves to be considered\nhere. It is a dissonance which delays the final consonance, which is\nawaited with certainty; and thus the longing for it is strengthened, and\nits appearance satisfies all the more. Clearly an analogue of the\nheightened satisfaction of the will through delay. The complete cadence\nrequires the preceding chord of the seventh on the dominant; because the\nmost deeply felt satisfaction and the most entire relief can only follow\nthe most earnest longing. Thus, in general, music consists of a constant\nsuccession of more or less disquieting chords, _i.e._, chords which excite\nlonging, and more or less quieting and satisfying chords; just as the life\nof the heart (the will) is a constant succession of greater or less\ndisquietude through desire and aversion, and just as various degrees of\nrelief. Accordingly the harmonious sequence of chords consists of the\ncorrect alternation of dissonance and consonance. A succession of merely\nconsonant chords would be satiating, wearisome, and empty, like the\nlanguor produced by the satisfaction of all wishes. Therefore dissonances\nmust be introduced, although they disquiet us and affect us almost\npainfully, but only in order to be resolved again in consonances with\nproper preparation. Indeed, in the whole of music there are really only\ntwo fundamental chords, the dissonant chord of the seventh and the\nconsonant triad, to which all chords that occur can be referred. This just\ncorresponds to the fact, that for the will there are at bottom only\ndissatisfaction and satisfaction, under however many forms they may\npresent themselves. And as there are two general fundamental moods of the\nmind, serenity, or at least healthiness, and sadness, or even oppression,\nso music has two general keys, the major and the minor, which correspond\nto these, and it must always be in one of the two. But it is, in fact,\nvery wonderful that there is a sign of pain which is neither physically\npainful nor yet conventional, but which nevertheless is suitable and\nunmistakable: the minor. From this we may measure how deeply music is\nfounded in the nature of things and of man. With northern nations, whose\nlife is subject to hard conditions, especially with the Russians, the\nminor prevails, even in the church music. Allegro in the minor is very\ncommon in French music, and is characteristic of it; it is as if one\ndanced while one\u2019s shoe pinched.\n\nI add further a few subsidiary remarks. When the key\u2010note is changed, and\nwith it the value of all the intervals, in consequence of which the same\nnote figures as the second, the third, the fourth, and so on, the notes of\nthe scale are analogous to actors, who must assume now one _r\u00f4le_, now\nanother, while their person remains the same. That the actors are often\nnot precisely suited to these _r\u00f4les_ may be compared to the unavoidable\nimpurity of every harmonic system (referred to at the end of \u00a7 52 of the\nfirst volume) which the equal temperament has introduced.\n\nPerhaps some may be offended, that, according to this metaphysic of it,\nmusic, which so often exalts our minds, which seems to us to speak of\nother and better worlds than ours, yet really only flatters the will to\nlive, because it exhibits to it its nature, deludes it with the image of\nits success, and at the end expresses its satisfaction and contentment.\nThe following passage from the \u201c_Vedas_\u201d may serve to quiet such doubts:\n\u201c_Etanand sroup, quod forma gaudii est,_ \u03c4\u03bf\u03bd _pram Atma ex hoc dicunt,\nquod quocunque loco gaudium est, particula e gaudio ejus est_\u201d\n(_Oupnekhat_, vol. i. p. 405; _et iterum_, vol. ii. p. 215).\n\n\n\n\n\nSUPPLEMENTS TO THE FOURTH BOOK.\n\n\n    \u201c_Tous les hommes d\u00e9sirent uniquement de se d\u00e9livrer de la mort:\n    ils ne savent pas se d\u00e9livrer de la vie._\u201d\n\n    \u2014_Lao\u2010tsen\u2010Tao\u2010te\u2010King_, ed. STAN. JULIEN, p. 184.\n\n\n\n\nChapter XL. Preface.\n\n\nThe supplements to this fourth book would be very considerable if it were\nnot that two of its principal subjects which stand specially in need of\nbeing supplemented\u2014the freedom of the will and the foundation of\nethics\u2014have, on the occasion of prize questions being set by two\nScandinavian Academies, been fully worked out by me in the form of a\nmonograph, which was laid before the public in the year 1841 under the\ntitle, \u201cThe Two Fundamental Problems of Ethics.\u201d Accordingly I assume an\nacquaintance on the part of my readers with the work which has just been\nmentioned, just as unconditionally as in the supplements to the second\nbook I have assumed it with regard to the work \u201cOn the Will in Nature.\u201d In\ngeneral I make the demand that whoever wishes to make himself acquainted\nwith my philosophy shall read every line of me. For I am no voluminous\nwriter, no fabricator of compendiums, no earner of pecuniary rewards, not\none whose writings aim at the approbation of a minister; in a word, not\none whose pen is under the influence of personal ends. I strive after\nnothing but the truth, and write as the ancients wrote, with the sole\nintention of preserving my thoughts, so that they may be for the benefit\nof those who understand how to meditate upon them and prize them.\nTherefore I have written little, but that little with reflection and at\nlong intervals, and accordingly I have also confined within the smallest\npossible limits those repetitions which in philosophical works are\nsometimes unavoidable on account of the connection, and from which no\nsingle philosopher is free; so that by far the most of what I have to say\nis only to be found in one place. On this account, then, whoever wishes to\nlearn from me and understand me must leave nothing unread that I have\nwritten. Yet one can judge me and criticise me without this, as experience\nhas shown; and to this also I further wish much pleasure.\n\nMeanwhile the space gained by the said elimination of two important\nsubjects will be very welcome to us. For since those explanations, which\nevery man has more at heart than anything else, and which therefore in\nevery system, as ultimate results, form the apex of its pyramid, are also\ncrowded together in _my_ last book, a larger space will gladly be granted\nto every firmer proof or more accurate account of these. Besides this we\nhave been able to discuss here, as belonging to the doctrine of the\n\u201cassertion of the will to live,\u201d a question which in our fourth book\nitself remained untouched, as it was also entirely neglected by all\nphilosophers before me: it is the inner significance and real nature of\nthe sexual love, which sometimes rises to a vehement passion\u2014a subject\nwhich it would not have been paradoxical to take up in the ethical part of\nphilosophy if its importance had been known.\n\n\n\n\nChapter XLI.(27) On Death And Its Relation To The Indestructibility Of Our\nTrue Nature.\n\n\nDeath is the true inspiring genius, or the muse of philosophy, wherefore\nSocrates has defined the latter as \u03b8\u03b1\u03bd\u03b1\u03c4\u03bf\u03c5 \u03bc\u03b5\u03bb\u03b5\u03c4\u03b7. Indeed without death\nmen would scarcely philosophise. Therefore it will be quite in order that\na special consideration of this should have its place here at the\nbeginning of the last, most serious, and most important of our books.\n\nThe brute lives without a proper knowledge of death; therefore the\nindividual brute enjoys directly the absolute imperishableness of the\nspecies, for it is only conscious of itself as endless. In the case of men\nthe terrifying certainty of death necessarily entered with reason. But as\neverywhere in nature with every evil a means of cure, or at least some\ncompensation, is given, the same reflection which introduces the knowledge\nof death also assists us to _metaphysical_ points of view, which comfort\nus concerning it, and of which the brute has no need and is incapable. All\nreligious and philosophical systems are principally directed to this end,\nand are thus primarily the antidote to the certainty of death, which the\nreflective reason produces out of its own means. Yet the degree in which\nthey attain this end is very different, and certainly _one_ religion or\nphilosophy will, far more than the others, enable men to look death in the\nface with a quiet glance. Brahmanism and Buddhism, which teach man to\nregard himself as himself, the original being, the Brahm, to which all\ncoming into being and passing away is essentially foreign, will achieve\nmuch more in this respect than such as teach that man is made out of\nnothing, and actually begins at birth his existence derived from another.\nAnswering to this we find in India a confidence and a contempt for death\nof which one has no conception in Europe. It is, in fact, a hazardous\nthing to force upon a man, by early imprinting them, weak and untenable\nconceptions in this important regard, and thereby making him for ever\nincapable of taking up correct and stable ones. For example, to teach him\nthat he recently came out of nothing, and consequently through an eternity\nhas been nothing, but yet for the future will be imperishable, is just the\nsame as to teach him that although he is through and through the work of\nanother, yet he will be held responsible through all eternity for his\nactions. If, then, when the mind ripens and reflection appears, the\nuntenable nature of such doctrines forces itself upon him, he has nothing\nbetter to put in its place, nay, is no longer capable of understanding\nanything better, and thus loses the comfort which nature had destined for\nhim also, as a compensation for the certainty of death. In consequence of\nsuch a process, we see even now in England (1844), among ruined factory\nhands, the Socialists, and in Germany, among ruined students, the young\nHegelians, sink to the absolutely physical point of view, which leads to\nthe result: _edite_, _bibite_, _post mortem nulla voluptas_, and so far\nmay be defined as bestialism.\n\nHowever, after all that has been taught concerning death, it cannot be\ndenied that, at least in Europe, the opinion of men, nay, often even of\nthe same individual, very frequently vacillates between the conception of\ndeath as absolute annihilation and the assumption that we are, as it were,\nwith skin and hair, immortal. Both are equally false: but we have not so\nmuch to find a correct mean as rather to gain the higher point of view\nfrom which such notions disappear of themselves.\n\nIn these considerations I shall first of all start from the purely\nempirical standpoint. Here there primarily lies before us the undeniable\nfact that, according to the natural consciousness, man not only fears\ndeath for his own person more than anything else, but also weeps violently\nover the death of those that belong to him, and indeed clearly not\negotistically, for his own loss, but out of sympathy for the great\nmisfortune that has befallen them. Therefore he also censures those who in\nsuch a case neither weep nor show sadness as hard\u2010hearted and unloving. It\nis parallel with this that revenge, in its highest degree, seeks the death\nof the adversary as the greatest evil that can be inflicted. Opinions\nchange with time and place; but the voice of nature remains always and\neverywhere the same, and is therefore to be heeded before everything else.\nNow here it seems distinctly to say that death is a great evil. In the\nlanguage of nature death means annihilation. And that death is a serious\nmatter may be concluded from the fact that, as every one knows, life is no\njoke. We must indeed deserve nothing better than these two.\n\nIn fact, the fear of death is independent of all knowledge; for the brute\nhas it, although it does not know death. Everything that is born brings it\nwith it into the world. But this fear of death is _a priori_ only the\nreverse side of the will to live, which indeed we all are. Therefore in\nevery brute the fear of its destruction is inborn, like the care for its\nmaintenance. Thus it is the fear of death, and not the mere avoidance of\npain, which shows itself in the anxious carefulness with which the brute\nseeks to protect itself, and still more its brood, from everything that\nmight become dangerous. Why does the brute flee, trembling, and seek to\nconceal itself? Because it is simply the will to live, but, as such, is\nforfeited to death, and wishes to gain time. Such also, by nature, is man.\nThe greatest evil, the worst that can anywhere threaten, is death; the\ngreatest fear is the fear of death. Nothing excites us so irresistibly to\nthe most lively interest as danger to the life of others; nothing is so\nshocking as an execution. Now the boundless attachment to life which\nappears here cannot have sprung from knowledge and reflection; to these it\nrather appears foolish, for the objective worth of life is very uncertain,\nand at least it remains doubtful whether it is preferable to not being,\nnay, if experience and reflection come to be expressed, not being must\ncertainly win. If one knocked on the graves, and asked the dead whether\nthey wished to rise again, they would shake their heads. Such is the\nopinion of Socrates in \u201cPlato\u2019s Apology,\u201d and even the gay and amiable\nVoltaire cannot help saying, \u201c_On aime la vie; mais le n\u00e9ant ne laisse pas\nd\u2019avoir du bon_;\u201d and again, \u201c_Je ne sais pas ce que c\u2019est que la vie\n\u00e9ternelle, mais celle\u2010ci est une mauvaise plaisanterie_.\u201d Besides, life\nmust in any case soon end; so that the few years which perhaps one has yet\nto be vanish entirely before the endless time when one will be no more.\nAccordingly it appears to reflection even ludicrous to be so anxious about\nthis span of time, to tremble so much if our own life or that of another\nis in danger, and to compose tragedies the horror of which has its\nstrength in the fear of death. That powerful attachment to life is\ntherefore irrational and blind; it can only be explained from the fact\nthat our whole inner nature is itself will to live, to which, therefore,\nlife must appear as the highest good, however embittered, short, and\nuncertain it may always be; and that that will, in itself and originally,\nis unconscious and blind. Knowledge, on the contrary, far from being the\nsource of that attachment to life, even works against it, for it discloses\nthe worthlessness of life, and thus combats the fear of death. When it\nconquers, and accordingly the man faces death courageously and composedly,\nthis is honoured as great and noble, thus we hail then the triumph of\nknowledge over the blind will to live, which is yet the kernel of our own\nbeing. In the same way we despise him in whom knowledge is defeated in\nthat conflict, and who therefore clings unconditionally to life, struggles\nto the utmost against approaching death, and receives it with despair;(28)\nand yet in him it is only the most original being of ourselves and of\nnature that expresses itself. We may here ask, in passing, how could this\nboundless love of life and endeavour to maintain it in every way as long\nas possible be regarded as base, contemptible, and by the adherents of\nevery religion as unworthy of this, if it were the gift of good gods, to\nbe recognised with thankfulness? And how could it then seem great and\nnoble to esteem it lightly? Meanwhile, what is confirmed by these\nconsiderations is\u2014(1.) that the will to live is the inmost nature of man;\n(2.) that in itself it is unconscious and blind; (3.) that knowledge is an\nadventitious principle, which is originally foreign to the will; (4.) that\nknowledge conflicts with the will, and that our judgment applauds the\nvictory of knowledge over the will.\n\nIf what makes death seem so terrible to us were the thought of not being,\nwe would necessarily think with equal horror of the time when as yet we\nwere not. For it is irrefutably certain that not being after death cannot\nbe different from not being before birth, and consequently is also no more\ndeplorable. A whole eternity has run its course while as yet we were not,\nbut that by no means disturbs us. On the other hand, we find it hard, nay,\nunendurable, that after the momentary intermezzo of an ephemeral\nexistence, a second eternity should follow in which we shall no longer be.\nShould, then, this thirst for existence have arisen because we have now\ntasted it and have found it so delightful? As was already briefly\nexplained above, certainly not; far sooner could the experience gained\nhave awakened an infinite longing for the lost paradise of non\u2010existence.\nTo the hope, also, of the immortality of the soul there is always added\nthat of a \u201cbetter world\u201d\u2014a sign that the present world is not much good.\nNotwithstanding all this, the question as to our state after death has\ncertainly been discussed, in books and verbally, ten thousand times\noftener than the question as to our state before birth. Yet theoretically\nthe one is just as near at hand and as fair a problem as the other; and\nbesides, whoever had answered the one would soon see to the bottom of the\nother. We have fine declamations about how shocking it would be to think\nthat the mind of man, which embraces the world, and has so many very\nexcellent thoughts, should sink with him into the grave; but we hear\nnothing about this mind having allowed a whole eternity to pass before it\ncame into being with these its qualities, and how the world must have had\nto do without it all that time. Yet no question presents itself more\nnaturally to knowledge, uncorrupted by the will, than this: An infinite\ntime has passed before my birth; what was I during this time?\nMetaphysically, it might perhaps be answered, \u201cI was always I; that is,\nall who during that time said I, were just I.\u201d But let us look away from\nthis to our present entirely empirical point of view, and assume that I\ndid not exist at all. Then I can console myself as to the infinite time\nafter my death, when I shall not be, with the infinite time when I already\nwas not, as a well\u2010accustomed, and indeed very comfortable, state. For the\neternity _a parte post_ without me can be just as little fearful as the\neternity _a parte ante_ without me, since the two are distinguished by\nnothing except by the interposition of an ephemeral dream of life. All\nproofs, also, for continued existence after death may just as well be\napplied _in partem ante_, where they then demonstrate existence before\nlife, in the assumption of which the Hindus and Buddhists therefore show\nthemselves very consistent. Kant\u2019s ideality of time alone solves all these\nriddles. But we are not speaking of that now. This, however, results from\nwhat has been said, that to mourn for the time when one will be no more is\njust as absurd as it would be to mourn over the time when as yet one was\nnot; for it is all the same whether the time which our existence does not\nfill is related to that which it does fill, as future or as past.\n\nBut, also, regarded entirely apart from these temporal considerations, it\nis in and for itself absurd to look upon not being as an evil; for every\nevil, as every good, presupposes existence, nay, even consciousness: but\nthe latter ceases with life, as also in sleep and in a swoon; therefore\nthe absence of it is well known to us, and trusted, as containing no evil\nat all: its entrance, however, is always an affair of a moment. From this\npoint of view Epicurus considered death, and therefore quite rightly said,\n\u201c\u1f41 \u03b8\u03b1\u03bd\u03b1\u03c4\u03bf\u03c2 \u03bc\u03b7\u03b4\u03b5\u03bd \u03c0\u03c1\u03bf\u03c2 \u1f21\u03bc\u03b1\u03c2\u201d (Death does not concern us); with the\nexplanation that when we are death is not, and when death is we are not\n(_Diog. Laert._, x. 27). To have lost what cannot be missed is clearly no\nevil. Therefore ceasing to be ought to disturb us as little as not having\nbeen. Accordingly from the standpoint of knowledge there appears\nabsolutely no reason to fear death. But consciousness consists in knowing;\ntherefore, for consciousness death is no evil. Moreover, it is really not\nthis _knowing_ part of our _ego_ that fears death, but the _fuga mortis_\nproceeds entirely and alone from the blind _will_, of which everything\nliving is filled. To this, however, as was already mentioned above, it is\nessential, just because it is will to live, whose whole nature consists in\nthe effort after life and existence, and which is not originally endowed\nwith knowledge, but only in consequence of its objectification in animal\nindividuals. If now the will, by means of knowledge, beholds death as the\nend of the phenomenon with which it has identified itself, and to which,\ntherefore, it sees itself limited, its whole nature struggles against it\nwith all its might. Whether now it has really something to fear from death\nwe will investigate further on, and will then remember the real source of\nthe fear of death, which has been shown here along with the requisite\ndistinction of the willing and the knowing part of our nature.\n\nCorresponding to this, then, what makes death so terrible to us is not so\nmuch the end of life\u2014for this can appear to no one specially worthy of\nregret\u2014but rather the destruction of the organism; really because this is\nthe will itself exhibiting itself as body. But we only really feel this\ndestruction in the evils of disease or of old age; death itself, on the\nother hand, consists for the _subject_ only in the moment when\nconsciousness vanishes because the activity of the brain ceases. The\nextension of the stoppage to all the other parts of the organism which\nfollows this is really already an event after death. Thus death, in a\nsubjective regard, concerns the consciousness alone. Now what the\nvanishing of this may be every one can to a certain extent judge of from\ngoing to sleep; but it is still better known to whoever has really\nfainted, for in this the transition is not so gradual, nor accompanied by\ndreams, but first the power of sight leaves us, still fully conscious, and\nthen immediately the most profound unconsciousness enters; the sensation\nthat accompanies it, so far as it goes, is anything but disagreeable; and\nwithout doubt, as sleep is the brother of death, so the swoon is its twin\u2010\nbrother. Even violent death cannot be painful, for even severe wounds are\nnot felt at all till some time afterwards, often not till the outward\nsigns of them are observed. If they are rapidly mortal, consciousness will\nvanish before this discovery; if they result in death later, then it is\nthe same as with other illnesses. All those also who have lost\nconsciousness in water, or from charcoal fumes, or through hanging are\nwell known to say that it happened without pain. And now, finally, the\ndeath which is properly in accordance with nature, death from old age,\neuthanasia, is a gradual vanishing and sinking out of existence in an\nimperceptible manner. Little by little in old age, the passions and\ndesires, with the susceptibility for their objects, are extinguished; the\nemotions no longer find anything to excite them; for the power of\npresenting ideas to the mind always becomes weaker, its images fainter;\nthe impressions no longer cleave to us, but pass over without leaving a\ntrace, the days roll ever faster, events lose their significance,\neverything grows pale. The old man stricken in years totters about or\nrests in a corner now only a shadow, a ghost of his former self. What\nremains there for death to destroy? One day a sleep is his last, and his\ndreams are \u2014\u2014. They are the dreams which Hamlet inquires after in the\nfamous soliloquy. I believe we dream them even now.\n\nI have here also to remark that the maintenance of the life process,\nalthough it has a metaphysical basis, does not go on without resistance,\nand consequently not without effort. It is this to which the organism\nyields every night, on account of which it then suspends the brain\nfunction and diminishes certain secretions, the respiration, the pulse,\nand the development of heat. From this we may conclude that the entire\nceasing of the life process must be a wonderful relief to its motive\nforce; perhaps this has some share in the expression of sweet contentment\non the faces of most dead persons. In general the moment of death may be\nlike the moment of awaking from a heavy dream that has oppressed us like a\nnightmare.\n\nUp to this point the result we have arrived at is that death, however much\nit may be feared, can yet really be no evil. But often it even appears as\na good thing, as something wished for, as a friend. All that have met with\ninsuperable obstacles to their existence or their efforts, that suffer\nfrom incurable diseases or inconsolable griefs, have as a last refuge,\nwhich generally opens to them of its own accord, the return into the womb\nof nature, from which they arose for a short time, enticed by the hope of\nmore favourable conditions of existence than have fallen to their lot, and\nthe same path out of which constantly remains open. That return is the\n_cessio bonorum_ of life. Yet even here it is only entered upon after a\nphysical and moral conflict: so hard does one struggle against returning\nto the place from which one came out so lightly and readily, to an\nexistence which has so much suffering and so little pleasure to offer. The\nHindus give the god of death, Yama, two faces; one very fearful and\nterrible, and one very cheerful and benevolent. This partly explains\nitself from the reflections we have just made.\n\nAt the empirical point of view at which we still stand, the following\nconsideration is one which presents itself of its own accord, and\ntherefore deserves to be accurately defined by illustration, and thereby\nreferred to its proper limits. The sight of a dead body shows me that\nsensibility, irritability, circulation of the blood, reproduction, &c.,\nhave here ceased. I conclude from this with certainty that what actuated\nthese hitherto, which was yet always something unknown to me, now actuates\nthem no longer, thus has departed from them. But if I should now wish to\nadd that this must have been just what I have known only as consciousness,\nconsequently as intelligence (soul), this would be not only an unjustified\nbut clearly a false conclusion. For consciousness has always showed itself\nto me not as the cause, but as the product and result of the organised\nlife, for it rose and sank in consequence of this in the different periods\nof life, in health and sickness, in sleep, in a swoon, in awaking, &c.,\nthus always appeared as effect, never as cause of the organised life,\nalways showed itself as something which arises and passes away, and again\narises, so long as the conditions of this still exist, but not apart from\nthem. Nay, I may also have seen that the complete derangement of\nconsciousness, madness, far from dragging down with it and depressing the\nother forces, or indeed endangering life, heightens these very much,\nespecially irritability or muscular force, and rather lengthens than\nshortens life, if other causes do not come in. Then, also: I knew\nindividuality as a quality of everything organised, and therefore, if this\nis a self\u2010conscious organism, also of consciousness. But there exists no\noccasion now to conclude that individuality was inherent in that vanished\nprinciple, which imparts life, and is completely unknown to me; all the\nless so as I see that everywhere in nature each particular phenomenon is\nthe work of a general force which is active in thousands of similar\nphenomena. But, on the other hand, there is just as little occasion to\nconclude that because the organised life has ceased here that force which\nhitherto actuated it has also become nothing; as little as to infer the\ndeath of the spinner from the stopping of the spinning\u2010wheel. If a\npendulum, by finding its centre of gravity, at last comes to rest, and\nthus its individual apparent life has ceased, no one will imagine that\ngravitation is now annihilated; but every one comprehends that, after as\nbefore, it is active in innumerable phenomena. Certainly it might be urged\nagainst this comparison, that here also, in this pendulum, gravitation has\nnot ceased to be active, but only to manifest its activity palpably;\nwhoever insists on this may think, instead, of an electrical body, in\nwhich, after its discharge, electricity has actually ceased to be active.\nI only wished to show in this that we ourselves recognise in the lowest\nforces of nature an eternity and ubiquity with regard to which the\ntransitory nature of their fleeting phenomena never makes us err for a\nmoment. So much the less, then, should it come into our mind to regard the\nceasing of life as the annihilation of the living principle, and\nconsequently death as the entire destruction of the man. Because the\nstrong arm which, three thousand years ago, bent the bow of Ulysses is no\nmore, no reflective and well\u2010regulated understanding will regard the force\nwhich acted so energetically in it as entirely annihilated, and therefore,\nupon further reflection, will also not assume that the force which bends\nthe bow to\u2010day first began with this arm. The thought lies far nearer us,\nthat the force which earlier actuated the life which now has vanished is\nthe same which is active in the life which now flourishes: nay, this is\nalmost inevitable. Certainly, however, we know that, as was explained in\nthe second book, only that is perishable which is involved in the causal\nseries; but only the states and forms are so involved. On the other hand,\nuntouched by the change of these which is introduced by causes, there\nremain on the one side matter, and on the other side natural forces: for\nboth are the presupposition of all these changes. But the principle of our\nlife we must, primarily at least, conceive as a force of nature, until\nperhaps a more profound investigation has brought us to know what it is in\nitself. Thus, taken simply as a force of nature, the vital force remains\nentirely undisturbed by the change of forms and states, which the bond of\ncause and effect introduces and carries off again, and which alone are\nsubject to the process of coming into being and passing away, as it lies\nbefore us in experience. Thus so far the imperishable nature of our true\nbeing can be proved with certainty. But it is true this will not satisfy\nthe claims which are wont to be made upon proofs of our continued\nexistence after death, nor insure the consolation which is expected from\nsuch proofs. However, it is always something; and whoever fears death as\nan absolute annihilation cannot afford to despise the perfect certainty\nthat the inmost principle of his life remains untouched by it. Nay, the\nparadox might be set up, that that second thing also which, just like the\nforces of nature, remains untouched by the continual change under the\nguidance of causality, thus matter, by its absolute permanence, insures us\nindestructibility, by virtue of which whoever was incapable of\ncomprehending any other might yet confidently trust in a certain\nimperishableness. \u201cWhat!\u201d it will be said, \u201cthe permanence of the mere\ndust, of the crude matter, is to be regarded as a continuance of our\nbeing?\u201d Oh! do you know this dust, then? Do you know what it is and what\nit can do? Learn to know it before you despise it. This matter which now\nlies there as dust and ashes will soon, dissolved in water, form itself as\na crystal, will shine as metal, will then emit electric sparks, will by\nmeans of its galvanic intensity manifest a force which, decomposing the\nclosest combinations, reduces earths to metals; nay, it will, of its own\naccord, form itself into plants and animals, and from its mysterious womb\ndevelop that life for the loss of which you, in your narrowness, are so\npainfully anxious. Is it, then, absolutely nothing to continue to exist as\nsuch matter? Nay, I seriously assert that even this permanence of matter\naffords evidence of the indestructibility of our true nature, though only\nas in an image or simile, or, rather, only as in outline. To see this we\nonly need to call to mind the explanation of matter given in chapter 24,\nfrom which it resulted that mere formless matter\u2014this basis of the world\nof experience which is never perceived for itself alone, but assumed as\nconstantly remaining\u2014is the immediate reflection, the visibility in\ngeneral, of the thing in itself, thus of the will. Therefore, whatever\nabsolutely pertains to the will as such holds good also of matter, and it\nreflects the true eternal nature of the will under the image of temporal\nimperishableness. Because, as has been said, nature does not lie, no view\nwhich has sprung from a purely objective comprehension of it, and been\nlogically thought out, can be absolutely false, but at the most only very\none\u2010sided and imperfect. Such, however, is, indisputably, consistent\nmaterialism; for instance, that of Epicurus, just as well as the absolute\nidealism opposed to it, like that of Berkeley, and in general every\nphilosophical point of view which has proceeded from a correct _apper\u00e7u_,\nand been honestly carried out. Only they are all exceedingly one\u2010sided\ncomprehensions, and therefore, in spite of their opposition, they are all\ntrue, each from a definite point of view; but as soon as one has risen\nabove this point of view, then they only appear as relatively and\nconditionally true. The highest standpoint alone, from which one surveys\nthem all and knows them in their relative truth, but also beyond this, in\ntheir falseness, can be that of absolute truth so far as this is in\ngeneral attainable. Accordingly we see, as was shown above, that in the\nvery crude, and therefore very old, point of view of materialism proper\nthe indestructibility of our true nature in itself is represented, as by a\nmere shadow of it, the imperishableness of matter; as in the already\nhigher naturalism of an absolute physics it is represented by the ubiquity\nand eternity of the natural forces, among which the vital force is at\nleast to be counted. Thus even these crude points of view contain the\nassertion that the living being suffers no absolute annihilation through\ndeath, but continues to exist in and with the whole of nature.\n\nThe considerations which have brought us to this point, and to which the\nfurther explanations link themselves on, started from the remarkable fear\nof death which fills all living beings. But now we will change the\nstandpoint and consider how, in contrast to the individual beings, the\n_whole_ of nature bears itself with reference to death. In doing this,\nhowever, we still always remain upon the ground of experience.\n\nCertainly we know no higher game of chance than that for death and life.\nEvery decision about this we watch with the utmost excitement, interest,\nand fear; for in our eyes all in all is at stake. On the other hand,\nnature, which never lies, but is always straightforward and open, speaks\nquite differently upon this theme, speaks like Krishna in the\nBhagavadgita. What it says is: The death or the life of the individual is\nof no significance. It expresses this by the fact that it exposes the life\nof every brute, and even of man, to the most insignificant accidents\nwithout coming to the rescue. Consider the insect on your path; a slight,\nunconscious turning of your step is decisive as to its life or death. Look\nat the wood\u2010snail, without any means of flight, of defence, of deception,\nof concealment, a ready prey for all. Look at the fish carelessly playing\nin the still open net; the frog restrained by its laziness from the flight\nwhich might save it; the bird that does not know of the falcon that soars\nabove it; the sheep which the wolf eyes and examines from the thicket. All\nthese, provided with little foresight, go about guilelessly among the\ndangers that threaten their existence every moment. Since now nature\nexposes its organisms, constructed with such inimitable skill, not only to\nthe predatory instincts of the stronger, but also to the blindest chance,\nto the humour of every fool, the mischievousness of every child without\nreserve, it declares that the annihilation of these individuals is\nindifferent to it, does it no harm, has no significance, and that in these\ncases the effect is of no more importance than the cause. It says this\nvery distinctly, and it does not lie; only it makes no comments on its\nutterances, but rather expresses them in the laconic style of an oracle.\nIf now the all\u2010mother sends forth her children without protection to a\nthousand threatening dangers, this can only be because she knows that if\nthey fall they fall back into her womb, where they are safe; therefore\ntheir fall is a mere jest. Nature does not act otherwise with man than\nwith the brutes. Therefore its declaration extends also to man: the life\nand death of the individual are indifferent to it. Accordingly, in a\ncertain sense, they ought also to be indifferent to us, for we ourselves\nare indeed nature. Certainly, if only we saw deep enough, we would agree\nwith nature, and regard life and death as indifferently as it does.\nMeanwhile, by means of reflection, we must attribute that carelessness and\nindifference of nature towards the life of the individuals to the fact\nthat the destruction of such a phenomenon does not in the least affect its\ntrue and proper nature.\n\nIf we further ponder the fact, that not only, as we have just seen, are\nlife and death dependent upon the most trifling accidents, but that the\nexistence of the organised being in general is an ephemeral one, that\nanimal and plant arise to\u2010day and pass away to\u2010morrow, and birth and death\nfollow in quick succession, while to the unorganised things which stand so\nmuch lower an incomparably longer duration is assured, and an infinite\nduration to the absolutely formless matter alone, to which, indeed, we\nattribute this _a priori_,\u2014then, I think, the thought must follow of its\nown accord, even from the purely empirical, but objective and unprejudiced\ncomprehension of such an order of things, that this is only a superficial\nphenomenon, that such a constant arising and passing away can by no means\ntouch the root of things, but can only be relative, nay, only apparent, in\nwhich the true inner nature of that thing is not included, the nature\nwhich everywhere evades our glance and is thoroughly mysterious, but\nrather that this continues to exist undisturbed by it; although we can\nneither apprehend nor conceive the manner in which this happens, and must\ntherefore think of it only generally as a kind of _tour de passe\u2010passe_\nwhich took place there. For that, while what is most imperfect, the\nlowest, the unorganised, continues to exist unassailed, it is just the\nmost perfect beings, the living creatures, with their infinitely\ncomplicated and inconceivably ingenious organisations, which constantly\narise, new from the very foundation, and after a brief span of time\nabsolutely pass into nothingness, to make room for other new ones like\nthem coming into existence out of nothing\u2014this is something so obviously\nabsurd that it can never be the true order of things, but rather a mere\nveil which conceals this, or, more accurately, a phenomenon conditioned by\nthe nature of our intellect. Nay, the whole being and not being itself of\nthese individuals, in relation to which death and life are opposites, can\nonly be relative. Thus the language of nature, in which it is given us as\nabsolute, cannot be the true and ultimate expression of the nature of\nthings and of the order of the world, but indeed only a _patois du pays_,\n_i.e._, something merely relatively true,\u2014something to be understood _cum\ngrano salis_, or, to speak properly, something conditioned by our\nintellect; I say, an immediate, intuitive conviction of the kind which I\nhave tried to describe in words will press itself upon every one; _i.e._,\ncertainly only upon every one whose mind is not of an utterly ordinary\nspecies, which is absolutely only capable of knowing the particular simply\nand solely as such, which is strictly limited to the knowledge of\nindividuals, after the manner of the intellect of the brutes. Whoever, on\nthe other hand, by means of a capacity of an only somewhat higher power,\neven just begins to see in the individual beings their universal, their\nIdeas, will also, to a certain extent, participate in that conviction, and\nthat indeed as an immediate, and therefore certain, conviction. In fact,\nit is also only small, limited minds that fear death quite seriously as\ntheir annihilation, and persons of decidedly superior capacity are\ncompletely free from such terrors. Plato rightly bases the whole of\nphilosophy upon the knowledge of the doctrine of Ideas, _i.e._, upon the\nperception of the universal in the particular. But the conviction here\ndescribed, which proceeds directly from the comprehension of nature, must\nhave been exceedingly vivid in those sublime authors of the Upanishads of\nthe Vedas, who can scarcely be thought of as mere men, for it speaks to us\nso forcibly out of an innumerable number of their utterances that we must\nascribe this immediate illumination of their mind to the fact that these\nwise men, standing nearer the origin of our race in time, comprehended the\nnature of things more clearly and profoundly than the already deteriorated\nrace, \u1f41\u03b9\u03bf\u03b9 \u03bd\u03c5\u03bd \u03b2\u03c1\u03bf\u03c4\u03bf\u03b9 \u03b5\u03b9\u03c3\u03b9\u03bd, is able to do. But certainly their\ncomprehension is assisted by the natural world of India, which is endowed\nwith life in a very different degree from our northern world. However,\nthorough reflection, as pursued by Kant\u2019s great mind, leads by another\npath to the same result, for it teaches us that our intellect, in which\nthat phenomenal world which changes so fast exhibits itself, does not\ncomprehend the true ultimate nature of things, but merely its phenomenal\nmanifestation, and indeed, as I add, because it is originally only\ndestined to present the motives to our will, _i.e._, to be serviceable to\nit in the pursuit of its paltry ends.\n\nLet us, however, carry our objective and unprejudiced consideration of\nnature still further. If I kill a living creature, whether a dog, a bird,\na frog, or even only an insect, it is really inconceivable that this\nbeing, or rather the original force by virtue of which such a marvellous\nphenomenon exhibited itself just the moment before, in its full energy and\nlove of life, should have been annihilated by my wicked or thoughtless\nact. And again, on the other hand, the millions of animals of every kind\nwhich come into existence every moment, in infinite variety, full of force\nand activity, can never, before the act of their generation, have been\nnothing at all, and have attained from nothing to an absolute beginning.\nIf now in this way I see one of these withdraw itself from my sight,\nwithout me knowing where it goes, and another appear without me knowing\nwhence it comes; if, moreover, both have the same form, the same nature,\nthe same character, and only not the same matter, which yet during their\nexistence they continually throw off and renew; then certainly the\nassumption, that that which vanishes and that which appears in its place\nare one and the same, which has only experienced a slight alteration, a\nrenewal of the form of its existence, and that consequently death is for\nthe species what sleep is for the individual; this assumption, I say, lies\nso close at hand that it is impossible not to light upon it, unless the\nmind, perverted in early youth by the imprinting of false views, hurries\nit out of the way, even from a distance, with superstitious fear. But the\nopposite assumption that the birth of an animal is an arising out of\nnothing, and accordingly that its death is its absolute annihilation, and\nthis with the further addition that man, who has also originated out of\nnothing, has yet an individual, endless existence, and indeed a conscious\nexistence, while the dog, the ape, the elephant, are annihilated by death,\nis really something against which the healthy mind revolts and which it\nmust regard as absurd. If, as is sufficiently often repeated, the\ncomparison of the results of a system with the utterances of the healthy\nmind is supposed to be a touchstone of its truth, I wish the adherents of\nthe system which was handed down from Descartes to the pre\u2010Kantian\neclectics, nay, which even now is still the prevailing view of the great\nmajority of cultured people in Europe, would apply this touchstone here.\n\nThroughout and everywhere the true symbol of nature is the circle, because\nit is the schema or type of recurrence. This is, in fact, the most\nuniversal form in nature, which it carries out in everything, from the\ncourse of the stars down to the death and the genesis of organised beings,\nand by which alone, in the ceaseless stream of time, and its content, a\npermanent existence, _i.e._, a nature, becomes possible.\n\nIf in autumn we consider the little world of insects, and see how one\nprepares its bed to sleep the long, rigid winter\u2010sleep; another spins its\ncocoon to pass the winter as a chrysalis, and awake in spring rejuvenated\nand perfected; and, finally, how most of them, intending themselves to\nrest in the arms of death, merely arrange with care the suitable place for\ntheir egg, in order to issue forth again from it some day renewed;\u2014this is\nnature\u2019s great doctrine of immortality, which seeks to teach us that there\nis no radical difference between sleep and death, but the one endangers\nexistence just as little as the other. The care with which the insect\nprepares a cell, or hole, or nest, deposits its egg in it, together with\nfood for the larva that will come out of it in the following spring, and\nthen quietly dies, is just like the care with which in the evening a man\nlays ready his clothes and his breakfast for the next morning, and then\nquietly goes to sleep; and at bottom it could not take place at all if it\nwere not that the insect which dies in autumn is in itself, and according\nto its true nature, just as much identical with the one which is hatched\nout in the spring as the man who lies down to sleep is identical with the\nman who rises from it.\n\nIf now, after these considerations, we return to ourselves and our own\nspecies, then cast our glance forward far into the future, and seek to\npresent to our minds the future generations, with the millions of their\nindividuals in the strange form of their customs and pursuits, and then\ninterpose with the question: Whence will all these come? Where are they\nnow? Where is the fertile womb of that nothing, pregnant with worlds,\nwhich still conceals the coming races? Would not the smiling and true\nanswer to this be, Where else should they be than there where alone the\nreal always was and will be, in the present and its content?\u2014thus with\nthee, the foolish questioner, who in this mistaking of his own nature is\nlike the leaf upon the tree, which, fading in autumn and about to fall,\ncomplains at its destruction, and will not be consoled by looking forward\nto the fresh green which will clothe the tree in spring, but says\nlamenting, \u201cI am not these! These are quite different leaves!\u201d Oh, foolish\nleaf! Whither wilt thou? And whence should others come? Where is the\nnothing whose abyss thou fearest? Know thine own nature, that which is so\nfilled with thirst for existence; recognise it in the inner, mysterious,\ngerminating force of the tree, which, constantly _one_ and the same in all\ngenerations of leaves, remains untouched by all arising and passing away.\nAnd now, \u03bf\u1f31\u03b7 \u03c0\u03b5\u03c1 \u03c6\u03c5\u03bb\u03bb\u03c9\u03bd \u03b3\u03b5\u03bd\u03b5\u03b7, \u03c4\u03bf\u03b9\u03b7\u03b4\u03b5 \u03ba\u03b1\u03b9 \u03b1\u03bd\u03b4\u03c1\u03c9\u03bd (_Qualis foliorum\ngeneratio, talis et hominum_). Whether the fly which now buzzes round me\ngoes to sleep in the evening, and buzzes again tomorrow, or dies in the\nevening, and in spring another fly buzzes which has sprung from its egg:\nthat is in itself the same thing; but therefore the knowledge which\nexhibits this as two fundamentally different things is not unconditioned,\nbut relative, a knowledge of the phenomenon, not of the thing in itself.\nIn the morning the fly exists again; it also exists again in the spring.\nWhat distinguishes for it the winter from the night? In Burdach\u2019s\n\u201cPhysiology,\u201d vol. i. \u00a7 275, we read, \u201cTill ten o\u2019clock in the morning no\n_Cercaria ephemera_ (one of the infusoria) is to be seen (in the\ninfusion), and at twelve the whole water swarms with them. In the evening\nthey die, and the next morning they again appear anew.\u201d So it was observed\nby Nitzsch six days running.\n\nSo everything lingers but a moment, and hastens on to death. The plant and\nthe insect die at the end of the summer, the brute and the man after a few\nyears: death reaps unweariedly. Yet notwithstanding this, nay, as if this\nwere not so at all, everything is always there and in its place, just as\nif everything were imperishable. The plant always thrives and blooms, the\ninsect hums, the brute and the man exist in unwasted youth, and the\ncherries that have already been enjoyed a thousand times we have again\nbefore us every summer. The nations also exist as immortal individuals,\nalthough sometimes their names change; even their action, what they do and\nsuffer, is always the same; although history always pretends to relate\nsomething different: for it is like the kaleidoscope, which at every turn\nshows a new figure, while we really always have the same thing before our\neyes. What then presses itself more irresistibly upon us than the thought\nthat that arising and passing away does not concern the real nature of\nthings, but this remains untouched by it, thus is imperishable, and\ntherefore all and each that _wills_ to exist actually exists continuously\nand without end. Accordingly at every given point of time all species of\nanimals, from the gnat to the elephant, exist together complete. They have\nalready renewed themselves many thousand times, and withal have remained\nthe same. They know nothing of others like them, who have lived before\nthem, or will live after them; it is the species which always lives, and\nin the consciousness of the imperishable nature of the species and their\nidentity with it the individuals cheerfully exist. The will to live\nmanifests itself in an endless present, because this is the form of the\nlife of the species, which, therefore, never grows old, but remains always\nyoung. Death is for it what sleep is for the individual, or what winking\nis for the eye, by the absence of which the Indian gods are known, if they\nappear in human form. As through the entrance of night the world vanishes,\nbut yet does not for a moment cease to exist, so man and brute apparently\npass away through death, and yet their true nature continues, just as\nundisturbed by it. Let us now think of that alternation of death and birth\nas infinitely rapid vibrations, and we have before us the enduring\nobjectification of the will, the permanent Ideas of being, fixed like the\nrainbow on the waterfall. This is temporal immortality. In consequence of\nthis, notwithstanding thousands of years of death and decay, nothing has\nbeen lost, not an atom of the matter, still less anything of the inner\nbeing, that exhibits itself as nature. Therefore every moment we can\ncheerfully cry, \u201cIn spite of time, death, and decay, we are still all\ntogether!\u201d\n\nPerhaps we would have to except whoever had once said from the bottom of\nhis heart, with regard to this game, \u201cI want no more.\u201d But this is not yet\nthe place to speak of this.\n\nBut we have certainly to draw attention to the fact that the pain of birth\nand the bitterness of death are the two constant conditions under which\nthe will to live maintains itself in its objectification, _i.e._, our\ninner nature, untouched by the course of time and the death of races,\nexists in an everlasting present, and enjoys the fruit of the assertion of\nthe will to live. This is analogous to the fact that we can only be awake\nduring the day on condition that we sleep during the night; indeed the\nlatter is the commentary which nature offers us for the understanding of\nthat difficult passage.(29)\n\nFor the substratum, or the content, \u03c0\u03bb\u03b7\u03c1\u03c9\u03bc\u03b1, or the material of the\n_present_, is through all time really the same. The impossibility of\nknowing this identity directly is just _time_, a form and limitation of\nour intellect. That on account of it, for example, the future event is not\nyet, depends upon an illusion of which we become conscious when that event\nhas come. That the essential form of our intellect introduces such an\nillusion explains and justifies itself from the fact that the intellect\nhas come forth from the hands of nature by no means for the apprehension\nof the nature of things, but merely for the apprehension of motives, thus\nfor the service of an individual and temporal phenomenon of will.(30)\n\nWhoever comprehends the reflections which here occupy us will also\nunderstand the true meaning of the paradoxical doctrine of the Eleatics,\nthat there is no arising and passing away, but the whole remains\nimmovable: \u201c\u03a0\u03b1\u03c1\u03bc\u03b5\u03bd\u03b9\u03b4\u03b7\u03c2 \u03ba\u03b1\u03b9 \u039c\u03b5\u03bb\u03b9\u03c3\u03c3\u03bf\u03c2 \u03b1\u03bd\u1fc3\u03c1\u03bf\u03c5\u03bd \u03b3\u03b5\u03bd\u03b5\u03c3\u03b9\u03bd \u03ba\u03b1\u03b9 \u03c6\u03b8\u03bf\u03c1\u03b1\u03bd, \u03b4\u03b9\u03b1 \u03c4\u03bf\n\u03bd\u03bf\u03bc\u03b9\u03be\u03b5\u03b9\u03bd \u03c4\u03bf \u03c0\u03b1\u03bd \u03b1\u03ba\u03b9\u03bd\u03b7\u03c4\u03bf\u03bd\u201d (_Parmenides et Melissus ortum et interitum\ntollebant, quoniam nihil moveri putabant_), _Stob. Ecl._, i. 21. Light is\nalso thrown here upon the beautiful passage of Empedocles which Plutarch\nhas preserved for us in the book, \u201c_Adversus Coloten_,\u201d c. 12:\u2014\n\n\n    \u201c\u039d\u03b7\u03c0\u03b9\u03bf\u03b9; \u03bf\u03c5 \u03b3\u03b1\u03c1 \u03c3\u03c6\u03b9\u03bd \u03b4\u03bf\u03bb\u03b9\u03c7\u03bf\u03c6\u03c1\u03bf\u03bd\u03b5\u03c2 \u03b5\u03b9\u03c3\u03b9 \u03bc\u03b5\u03c1\u03b9\u03bc\u03bd\u03b1\u03b9,\n    \u039f\u1f31 \u03b4\u03b7 \u03b3\u03b9\u03bd\u03b5\u03c3\u03b8\u03b1\u03b9 \u03c0\u03b1\u03c1\u03bf\u03c2 \u03bf\u03c5\u03ba \u03b5\u03bf\u03bd \u03b5\u03bb\u03c0\u03b9\u03b6\u03bf\u03c5\u03c3\u03b9,\n    \u0397 \u03c4\u03b9 \u03ba\u03b1\u03c4\u03b1\u03b8\u03bd\u03b7\u03c3\u03ba\u03b5\u03b9\u03bd \u03ba\u03b1\u03b9 \u03b5\u03be\u03bf\u03bb\u03bb\u03c5\u03c3\u03b8\u03b1\u03b9 \u1f01\u03c0\u03b1\u03bd\u03c4\u03b7.\n    \u039f\u03c5\u03ba \u03b1\u03bd \u03b1\u03bd\u03b7\u03c1 \u03c4\u03bf\u03b9\u03b1\u03c5\u03c4\u03b1 \u03c3\u03bf\u03c6\u03bf\u03c2 \u03c6\u03c1\u03b5\u03c3\u03b9 \u03bc\u03b1\u03bd\u03c4\u03b5\u03c5\u03c3\u03b1\u03b9\u03c4\u03bf,\n    \u1f69\u03c2 \u03bf\u03c6\u03c1\u03b1 \u03bc\u03b5\u03bd \u03c4\u03b5 \u03b2\u03b9\u03c9\u03c3\u03b9 (\u03c4\u03bf \u03b4\u03b7 \u03b2\u03b9\u03bf\u03c4\u03bf\u03bd \u03ba\u03b1\u03bb\u03b5\u03bf\u03c5\u03c3\u03b9),\n    \u03a4\u03bf\u03c6\u03c1\u03b1 \u03bc\u03b5\u03bd \u03bf\u03c5\u03bd \u03b5\u03b9\u03c3\u03b9\u03bd, \u03ba\u03b1\u03b9 \u03c3\u03c6\u03b9\u03bd \u03c0\u03b1\u03c1\u03b1 \u03b4\u03b5\u03b9\u03bd\u03b1 \u03ba\u03b1\u03b9 \u1f10\u03c3\u03b8\u03bb\u03b1\n    \u03a0\u03c1\u03b9\u03bd \u03c4\u03b5 \u03c0\u03b1\u03b3\u03b5\u03bd \u03c4\u03b5 \u03b2\u03c1\u03bf\u03c4\u03bf\u03b9, \u03ba\u03b1\u03b9 \u03b5\u03c0\u03b5\u03b9 \u03bb\u03c5\u03b8\u03b5\u03bd, \u03bf\u03c5\u03b4\u03b5\u03bd \u03b1\u03c1\u1fbd \u1f10\u03b9\u03c3\u03b9\u03bd.\u201d\n\n    _(Stulta, et prolixas non admittentia curas_\n    _Pectora: qui sperant, existere posse, quod ante_\n    _Non fuit, aut ullam rem pessum protinus ire_;\u2014\n    _Non animo prudens homo quod pr\u00e6sentiat ullus_,\n    _Dum vivunt (namque hoc vita\u00ef nomine signant)_,\n    _Sunt, et fortuna tum conflictantur utraque_:\n    _Ante ortum nihil est homo, nec post funera quidquam.)_\n\n\nThe very remarkable and, in its place, astonishing passage in Diderot\u2019s\n\u201c_Jacques le fataliste_,\u201d deserves not less to be mentioned here: \u201c_Un\nch\u00e2teau immense, au frontispice duquel on lisait: __\u2039 __Je n\u2019appartiens \u00e0\npersonne, et j\u2019appartiens \u00e0 tout le monde: vous y \u00e9tiez avant que d\u2019y\nentrer, vous y serez encore, quand vous en sortirez__ \u203a_.\u201d\n\nCertainly in the sense in which, when he is begotten, the man arises out\nof nothing, he becomes nothing through death. But really to learn to know\nthis \u201cnothing\u201d would be very interesting; for it only requires moderate\nacuteness to see that this empirical nothing is by no means absolute,\n_i.e._, such as would in every sense be nothing. We are already led to\nthis insight by the observation that all qualities of the parents recur in\nthe children, thus have overcome death. Of this, however, I will speak in\na special chapter.\n\nThere is no greater contrast than that between the ceaseless flight of\ntime, which carries its whole content with it, and the rigid immobility of\nwhat is actually present, which at all times is one and the same. And if\nfrom this point of view we watch in a purely objective manner the\nimmediate events of life, the _Nunc stans_ becomes clear and visible to us\nin the centre of the wheel of time. To the eye of a being of incomparably\nlonger life, which at _one_ glance comprehended the human race in its\nwhole duration, the constant alternation of birth and death would present\nitself as a continuous vibration, and accordingly it would not occur to it\nat all to see in this an ever new arising out of nothing and passing into\nnothing; but just as to our sight the quickly revolving spark appears as a\ncontinuous circle, the rapidly vibrating spring as a permanent triangle,\nthe vibrating cord as a spindle, so to this eye the species would appear\nas that which has being and permanence, death and life as vibrations.\n\nWe will have false conceptions of the indestructibility of our true nature\nby death, so long as we do not make up our minds to study it primarily in\nthe brutes, but claim for ourselves alone a class apart from them, under\nthe boastful name of immortality. But it is this pretension alone, and the\nnarrowness of view from which it proceeds, on account of which most men\nstruggle so obstinately against the recognition of the obvious truth that\nwe are essentially, and in the chief respect, the same as the brutes; nay,\nthat they recoil at every hint of our relationship with these. But it is\nthis denial of the truth which more than anything else closes against them\nthe path to real knowledge of the indestructibility of our nature. For if\nwe seek anything upon a wrong path, we have just on that account forsaken\nthe right path, and upon the path we follow we will never attain to\nanything in the end but late disillusion. Up, then, follow the truth, not\naccording to preconceived notions, but as nature leads! First of all,\nlearn to recognise in the aspect of every young animal the existence of\nthe species that never grows old, which, as a reflection of its eternal\nyouth, imparts to every individual a temporary youth, and lets it come\nforth as new and fresh as if the world were of to\u2010day. Let one ask himself\nhonestly whether the swallow of this year\u2019s spring is absolutely a\ndifferent one from the swallow of the first spring, and whether really\nbetween the two the miracle of the creation out of nothing has repeated\nitself millions of times, in order to work just as often into the hands of\nabsolute annihilation. I know well that if I seriously assured any one\nthat the cat which now plays in the yard is still the same one which made\nthe same springs and played the same tricks there three hundred years ago,\nhe would think I was mad; but I also know that it is much madder to\nbelieve that the cat of to\u2010day is through and through and in its whole\nnature quite a different one from the cat of three hundred years ago. One\nonly requires truly and seriously to sink oneself in the contemplation of\none of these higher vertebrates in order to become distinctly conscious\nthat this unfathomable nature, taken as a whole, as it exists there,\ncannot possibly become nothing; and yet, on the other hand, one knows its\ntransitoriness. This depends upon the fact that in this animal the\ninfinite nature of its Idea (species) is imprinted in the finiteness of\nthe individual. For in a certain sense it is of course true that in the\nindividual we always have before us another being\u2014in the sense which\ndepends upon the principle of sufficient reason, in which are also\nincluded time and space, which constitute the _principium\nindividuationis_. But in another sense it is not true\u2014in the sense in\nwhich reality belongs to the permanent forms of things, the Ideas alone,\nand which was so clearly evident to Plato that it became his fundamental\nthought, the centre of his philosophy; and he made the comprehension of it\nthe criterion of capacity for philosophising in general.\n\nAs the scattered drops of the roaring waterfall change with lightning\nrapidity, while the rainbow, whose supporter they are, remains immovably\nat rest, quite untouched by that ceaseless change, so every Idea, _i.e._,\nevery species of living creature remains quite untouched by the continual\nchange of its individuals. But it is the Idea, or the species in which the\nwill to live is really rooted, and manifests itself; and therefore also\nthe will is only truly concerned in the continuance of the species. For\nexample, the lions which are born and die are like the drops of the\nwaterfall; but the _leonitas_, the Idea or form of the lion, is like the\nunshaken rainbow upon it. Therefore Plato attributed true being to the\nIdeas alone, _i.e._, to the species; to the individuals only a ceaseless\narising and passing away. From the profound consciousness of his\nimperishable nature really springs also the confidence and peace of mind\nwith which every brute, and even human individual, moves unconcernedly\nalong amid a host of chances, which may annihilate it any moment, and,\nmoreover, moves straight on to death: out of its eyes, however, there\nshines the peace of the species, which that death does not affect, and\ndoes not concern. Even to man this peace could not be imparted by\nuncertain and changing dogmas. But, as was said, the contemplation of\nevery animal teaches that death is no obstacle to the kernel of life, to\nthe will in its manifestation. What an unfathomable mystery lies, then, in\nevery animal! Look at the nearest one; look at your dog, how cheerfully\nand peacefully he lives! Many thousands of dogs have had to die before it\ncame to this one\u2019s turn to live. But the death of these thousands has not\naffected the Idea of the dog; it has not been in the least disturbed by\nall that dying. Therefore the dog exists as fresh and endowed with\nprimitive force as if this were its first day and none could ever be its\nlast; and out of its eyes there shines the indestructible principle in it,\nthe arch\u00e6us. What, then, has died during those thousands of years? Not the\ndog\u2014it stands unscathed before us; merely its shadow, its image in our\nform of knowledge, which is bound to time. Yet how can one even believe\nthat that passes away which for ever and ever exists and fills all time?\nCertainly the matter can be explained empirically; in proportion as death\ndestroyed the individuals, generation produced new ones. But this\nempirical explanation is only an apparent explanation: it puts one riddle\nin the place of the other. The metaphysical understanding of the matter,\nalthough not to be got so cheaply, is yet the only true and satisfying\none.\n\nKant, in his subjective procedure, brought to light the truth that time\ncannot belong to the thing in itself, because it lies pre\u2010formed in our\napprehension. Now death is the temporal end of the temporal phenomenon;\nbut as soon as we abstract time, there is no longer any end, and this word\nhas lost all significance. But I, here upon the objective path, am trying\nto show the positive side of the matter, that the thing in itself remains\nuntouched by time, and by that which is only possible through time,\narising and passing away, and that the phenomena in time could not have\neven that ceaselessly fleeting existence which stands next to nothingness,\nif there were not in them a kernel of the infinite. Eternity is certainly\na conception which has no perception as its foundation; accordingly it has\nalso a merely negative content; it signifies a timeless existence. Time is\nyet merely an image of eternity, \u1f41 \u03c7\u03c1\u03bf\u03bd\u03bf\u03c2 \u03b5\u1f30\u03ba\u03c9\u03bd \u03c4\u03bf\u03bd \u03b1\u1f30\u03c9\u03bd\u03bf\u03c2, as Plotinus\nhas it; and in the same way our temporal existence is a mere image of our\ntrue nature. This must lie in eternity, just because time is only the form\nof our knowledge; but on account of this alone do we know our own\nexistence, and that of all things as transitory, finite, and subject to\nannihilation.\n\nIn the second book I have shown that the adequate objectivity of the will\nas the thing in itself, at each of its grades, is the (Platonic) Idea;\nsimilarly in the third book that the Ideas of things have the pure subject\nof knowledge as their correlative; consequently the knowledge of them only\nappears exceptionally and temporarily under specially favourable\nconditions. For individual knowledge, on the other hand, thus in time, the\n_Idea_ presents itself under the form of the _species_, which is the Idea\nbroken up through its entrance into time. Therefore the species is the\nmost immediate objectification of the thing in itself, _i.e._, of the will\nto live. The inmost nature of every brute, and also of man, accordingly\nlies in the species; thus the will to live, which is so powerfully active,\nis rooted in this, not really in the individual. On the other hand, in the\nindividual alone lies the immediate consciousness: accordingly it imagines\nitself different from the species, and therefore fears death. The will to\nlive manifests itself in relation to the individual as hunger and the fear\nof death: in relation to the species as sexual instinct and passionate\ncare for the offspring. In agreement with this we find nature, which is\nfree from that delusion of the individual, as careful for the maintenance\nof the species as it is indifferent to the destruction of the individuals:\nthe latter are always only means, the former is the end. Therefore a\nglaring contrast appears between its niggardliness in the endowment of the\nindividuals and its prodigality when the species is concerned. In the\nlatter case from _one_ individual are often annually obtained a hundred\nthousand germs, and more; for example, from trees, fishes, crabs,\ntermites, and many others. In the former case, on the contrary, only\nbarely enough in the way of powers and organs is given to each to enable\nit with ceaseless effort to maintain its life. And, therefore, if an\nanimal is injured or weakened it must, as a rule, starve. And where an\nincidental saving was possible, through the circumstance that one part\ncould upon necessity be dispensed with, it has been withheld, even out of\norder. Hence, for example, many caterpillars are without eyes; the poor\ncreatures grope in the dark from leaf to leaf, which, since they lack\nfeelers, they do by moving three\u2010fourths of their body back and forward in\nthe air, till they find some object. Hence they often miss their food\nwhich is to be found close by. But this happens in consequence of the _lex\nparsimoni\u00e6 natur\u00e6_, to the expression of which _natura nihil facit\nsupervacaneum_ one may add _et nihil largitur_. The same tendency of\nnature shows itself also in the fact that the more fit the individual is,\non account of his age, for the propagation of the species, the more\npowerfully does the _vis natur\u00e6 medicatrix_ manifest itself in him, and\ntherefore his wounds heal easily, and he easily recovers from diseases.\nThis diminishes along with the power of generation, and sinks low after it\nis extinct; for now in the eyes of nature the individual has become\nworthless.\n\nIf now we cast another glance at the scale of existences, with the whole\nof their accompanying gradations of consciousness, from the polyp up to\nman, we see this wonderful pyramid, kept in ceaseless oscillation\ncertainly by the constant death of the individuals, yet by means of the\nbond of generation, enduring in the species through the infinite course of\ntime. While, then, as was explained above, the _objective_, the species,\npresents itself as indestructible, the _subjective_, which consists merely\nin the self\u2010consciousness of these beings, seems to be of the shortest\nduration, and to be unceasingly destroyed, in order, just as often, to\ncome forth again from nothing in an incomprehensible manner. But, indeed,\none must be very short\u2010sighted to let oneself be deceived by this\nappearance, and not to comprehend that, although the form of temporal\npermanence only belongs to the objective, the subjective, _i.e._, the\nwill, which lives and manifests itself in all, and with it the subject of\nthe _knowledge_ in which all exhibits itself, must be not less\nindestructible; because the permanence of the objective, or external, can\nyet only be the phenomenal appearance of the indestructibility of the\nsubjective or internal; for the former can possess nothing which it has\nnot received on loan from the latter; and cannot be essentially and\noriginally an objective, a phenomenon, and then secondarily and\naccidentally a subjective, a thing in itself, a self\u2010consciousness. For\nclearly the former as a manifestation presupposes something which\nmanifests itself, as being for other presupposes a being for self, and as\nobject presupposes a subject; and not conversely: because everywhere the\nroot of things must lie in that which they are for themselves, thus in the\nsubjective, not in the objective, _i.e._, in that which they are only for\nothers, in a foreign consciousness. Accordingly we found in the first book\nthat the right starting\u2010point for philosophy is essentially and\nnecessarily the subjective, _i.e._, the idealistic starting\u2010point; and\nalso that the opposite starting\u2010point, that which proceeds from the\nobjective, leads to materialism. At bottom, however, we are far more one\nwith the world than we commonly suppose: its inner nature is our will, its\nphenomenal appearance is our idea. For any one who could bring this unity\nof being to distinct consciousness, the difference between the continuance\nof the external world after his death and his own continuance after death\nwould vanish. The two would present themselves to him as one and the same;\nnay, he would laugh at the delusion that could separate them. For the\nunderstanding of the indestructibility of our nature coincides with that\nof the identity of the macrocosm and the microcosm. Meanwhile one may\nobtain light upon what is said here by a peculiar experiment, performed by\nmeans of the imagination, an experiment which might be called\nmetaphysical. Let any one try to present vividly to his mind the time, in\nany case not far distant, when he will be dead. Then he thinks himself\naway and lets the world go on existing; but soon, to his own astonishment,\nhe will discover that he was nevertheless still there. For he intended to\npresent the world to his mind without himself; but the ego is the\nimmediate element in consciousness, through which alone the world is\nbrought about, and for which alone it exists. This centre of all\nexistence, this kernel of all reality, is to be abolished, and yet the\nworld is to go on existing; it is a thought which can be conceived in the\nabstract, but not realised. The endeavour to accomplish this, the attempt\nto think the secondary without the primary, the conditioned without the\ncondition, that which is supported without the supporter, always fails,\nmuch in the same way as the attempt to think an equilateral, right\u2010angled\ntriangle, or a destruction or origination of matter, and similar\nimpossibilities. Instead of what was intended, the feeling here presses\nupon us that the world is not less in us than we in it, and that the\nsource of all reality lies within us. The result is really this: the time\nwhen I shall not be will objectively come; but subjectively it can never\ncome. It might therefore, indeed, be asked, how far every one, in his\nheart, actually believes in a thing which he really cannot conceive at\nall; or whether, since the profound consciousness of the\nindestructibleness of our true nature associates itself with that merely\nintellectual experiment, which, however, has already been made more or\nless distinctly by every one, whether, I say, our own death is not perhaps\nfor us at bottom the most incredible thing in the world.\n\nThe deep conviction of the indestructibleness of our nature through death,\nwhich, as is also shown by the inevitable qualms of conscience at its\napproach, every one carries at the bottom of his heart, depends altogether\nupon the consciousness of the original and eternal nature of our being:\ntherefore Spinoza expresses it thus: \u201c_Sentimus, experimurque, nos \u00e6ternos\nesse_.\u201d For a reasonable man can only think of himself as imperishable,\nbecause he thinks of himself as without beginning, as eternal, in fact as\ntimeless. Whoever, on the other hand, regards himself as having become out\nof nothing must also think that he will again become nothing; for that an\neternity had passed before he was, and then a second eternity had begun,\nthrough which he will never cease to be, is a monstrous thought. Really\nthe most solid ground for our immortality is the old principle: \u201c_Ex\nnihilo nihil fit, et in nihilum nihil potest reverti_.\u201d Theophrastus\nParacelsus very happily says (Works, Strasburg, 1603, vol. ii. p. 6): \u201cThe\nsoul in me has arisen out of something; therefore it does not come to\nnothing; for it comes out of something.\u201d He gives the true reason. But\nwhoever regards the birth of the man as his absolute beginning must regard\ndeath as his absolute end. For both are what they are in the same sense;\nconsequently every one can only think of himself as _immortal_ so far as\nhe also thinks of himself as _unborn_, and in the same sense. What birth\nis, that also is death, according to its nature and significance: it is\nthe same line drawn in two directions. If the former is an actual arising\nout of nothing, then the latter is also an actual annihilation. But in\ntruth it is only by means of the _eternity_ of our real being that we can\nconceive it as imperishable, and consequently this imperishableness is not\ntemporal. The assumption that man is made out of nothing leads necessarily\nto the assumption that death is his absolute end. Thus in this the Old\nTestament is perfectly consistent; for no doctrine of immortality is\nsuitable to a creation out of nothing. New Testament Christianity has such\na doctrine because it is Indian in spirit, and therefore more than\nprobably also of Indian origin, although only indirectly, through Egypt.\nBut to the Jewish stem, upon which that Indian wisdom had to be grafted in\nthe Holy Land, such a doctrine is as little suited as the freedom of the\nwill to its determinism, or as\n\n\n    \u201c_Humano capiti cervicem pictor equinam Jungere si velit._\u201d\n\n\nIt is always bad if one cannot be thoroughly original, and dare not carve\nout of the whole wood. Brahmanism and Buddhism, on the other hand, have\nquite consistently, besides the continued existence after death, an\nexistence before birth to expiate the guilt of which we have this life.\nMoreover, how distinctly conscious they were of the necessary consistency\nin this is shown by the following passage from Colebrooke\u2019s \u201cHistory of\nthe Indian Philosophy\u201d in the \u201cTransac. of the Asiatic London Society,\u201d\nvol. i. p. 577: \u201cAgainst the system of the Bhagavatas which is but\npartially heretical, the objection upon which the chief stress is laid by\nVyaso is, that the soul would not be eternal if it were a production, and\nconsequently had a beginning.\u201d Further, in Upham\u2019s \u201cDoctrine of Buddhism,\u201d\np. 110, it is said: \u201cThe lot in hell of impious persons called Deitty is\nthe most severe: these are they who, discrediting the evidence of Buddha,\nadhere to the heretical doctrine that all living beings had their\nbeginning in the mother\u2019s womb, and will have their end in death.\u201d\n\nWhoever conceives his existence as merely accidental must certainly fear\nthat he will lose it by death. On the other hand, whoever sees, even only\nin general, that his existence rests upon some kind of original necessity\nwill not believe that this which has produced so wonderful a thing is\nlimited to such a brief span of time, but that it is active in every one.\nBut he will recognise his existence as necessary who reflects that up till\nnow, when he exists, already an infinite time, thus also an infinity of\nchanges, has run its course, but in spite of this he yet exists; thus the\nWhole range of all possible states has already exhausted itself without\nbeing able to destroy his existence. _If he could ever not be, he would\nalready not be now._ For the infinity of the time that has already\nelapsed, with the exhausted possibility of the events in it, guarantees\nthat _what exists, exists necessarily_. Therefore every one must conceive\nhimself as a necessary being, _i.e._, as a being whose existence would\nfollow from its true and exhaustive definition if one only had it. In this\nline of thought, then, really lies the only immanent proof of the\nimperishableness of our nature, _i.e._, the only proof of this that holds\ngood within the sphere of empirical data. In this nature existence must\ninhere, because it shows itself as independent of all states which can\npossibly be introduced through the chain of causes; for these states have\nalready done what they could, and yet our existence has remained unshaken\nby it, as the ray of light by the storm wind which it cuts through. If\ntime, of its own resources, could bring us to a happy state, then we would\nalready have been there long ago; for an infinite time lies behind us. But\nalso: if it could lead us to destruction, we would already have long been\nno more. From the fact that we now exist, it follows, if well considered,\nthat we must at all times exist. For we are ourselves the nature which\ntime has taken up into itself in order to fill its void; consequently it\nfills the whole of time, present, past, and future, in the same way, and\nit is just as impossible for us to fall out of existence as to fall out of\nspace. Carefully considered, it is inconceivable that what once exists in\nall the strength of reality should ever become nothing, and then not be,\nthrough an infinite time. Hence has arisen the Christian doctrine of the\nrestoration of all things, that of the Hindus of the constantly repeated\ncreation of the world by Brahma, together with similar dogmas of the Greek\nphilosophers. The great mystery of our being and not being, to explain\nwhich these and all kindred dogmas have been devised, ultimately rests\nupon the fact that the same thing which objectively constitutes an\ninfinite course of time is subjectively an indivisible, ever present\npresent: but who comprehends it? It has been most distinctly set forth by\nKant in his immortal doctrine of the ideality of time and the sole reality\nof the thing in itself. For it results from this that the really essential\npart of things, of man, of the world, lies permanently and enduringly in\nthe _Nunc stans_, firm and immovable; and that the change of the phenomena\nand events is a mere consequence of our apprehension of them by means of\nour form of perception, which is time. Accordingly, instead of saying to\nmen, \u201cYe have arisen through birth, but are immortal,\u201d one ought to say to\nthem, \u201cYe are not nothing,\u201d and teach them to understand this in the sense\nof the saying attributed to Hermes Trismegistus, \u201c\u03a4\u03bf \u03b3\u03b1\u03c1 \u1f40\u03bd \u1f00\u03b5\u03b9 \u1f10\u03c3\u03c4\u03b1\u03b9\u201d\n(_Quod enim est, erit semper_), _Stob. Ecl._, i. 43, 6. If, however, this\ndoes not succeed, but the anxious heart raises its old lament, \u201cI see all\nbeings arise through birth out of nothing, and after a brief term again\nreturn to this; my existence also, now in the present, will soon lie in\nthe distant past, and I will be nothing!\u201d\u2014the right answer is, \u201cDost thou\nnot exist? Hast thou not within thee the valuable present, after which ye\nchildren of time so eagerly strive, now within, actually within? And dost\nthou understand how thou hast attained to it? Knowest thou the paths which\nhave led thee to it, that thou canst know they will be shut against thee\nby death? An existence of thyself after the destruction of thy body is not\nconceivable by thee as possible; but can it be more inconceivable to thee\nthan thy present existence, and how thou hast attained to it? Why shouldst\nthou doubt but that the secret paths to this present, which stood open to\nthee, will also stand open to every future present?\u201d\n\nIf, then, considerations of this kind are at any rate adapted to awaken\nthe conviction that there is something in us which death cannot destroy,\nthis yet only takes place by raising us to a point of view from which\nbirth is not the beginning of our existence. But from this it follows that\nwhat is proved to be indestructible by death is not properly the\nindividual, which, moreover, as having arisen through generation, and\nhaving in itself the qualities of the father and mother, presents itself\nas a mere difference of the species, but as such can only be finite. As,\nin accordance with this, the individual has no recollection of its\nexistence before its birth, so it can have no remembrance of its present\nexistence after death. But every one places his ego in _consciousness_;\nthis seems to him therefore to be bound to individuality, with which,\nbesides, everything disappears which is peculiar to him, as to this, and\ndistinguishes him from others. His continued existence without\nindividuality becomes to him therefore indistinguishable from the\ncontinuance of other beings, and he sees his ego sink. But whoever thus\nlinks his existence to the identity of consciousness, and therefore\ndesires an endless existence after death for this, ought to reflect that\nhe can certainly only attain this at the price of just as endless a past\nbefore birth. For since he has no remembrance of an existence before\nbirth, thus his consciousness begins with birth, he must accept his birth\nas an origination of his existence out of nothing. But then he purchases\nthe endless time of his existence after death for just as long a time\nbefore birth; thus the account balances without any profit for him. If, on\nthe other hand, the existence which death leaves untouched is different\nfrom that of the individual consciousness, then it must be independent of\nbirth, just as of death; and therefore, with regard to it, it must be\nequally true to say, \u201cI will always be,\u201d and \u201cI have always been;\u201d which\nthen gives two infinities for one. But the great equivocation really lies\nin the word \u201cI,\u201d as any one will see at once who remembers the contents of\nour second book, and the separation which is made there of the willing\nfrom the knowing part of our nature. According as I understand this word I\ncan say, \u201cDeath is my complete end;\u201d or, \u201cThis my personal phenomenal\nexistence is just as infinitely small a part of my true nature as I am of\nthe world.\u201d But the \u201cI\u201d is the dark point in consciousness, as on the\nretina the exact point at which the nerve of sight enters is blind, as the\nbrain itself is entirely without sensation, the body of the sun is dark,\nand the eye sees all except itself. Our faculty of knowledge is directed\nentirely towards without, in accordance with the fact that it is the\nproduct of a brain function, which has arisen for the purpose of mere\nself\u2010maintenance, thus of the search for nourishment and the capture of\nprey. Therefore every one knows himself only as this individual as it\npresents itself in external perception. If, on the other hand, he could\nbring to consciousness what he is besides and beyond this, then he would\nwillingly give up his individuality, smile at the tenacity of his\nattachment to it, and say, \u201cWhat is the loss of this individuality to me,\nwho bear in myself the possibility of innumerable individualities?\u201d He\nwould see that even if a continued existence of his individuality does not\nlie before him, it is yet quite as good as if he had such an existence,\nbecause he carries in himself complete compensation for it. Besides,\nhowever, it may further be taken into consideration that the individuality\nof most men is so miserable and worthless that with it they truly lose\nnothing, and that that in them which may still have some worth is the\nuniversal human element; but to this imperishableness can be promised.\nIndeed, even the rigid unalterableness and essential limitation of every\nindividual would, in the case of an endless duration of it, necessarily at\nlast produce such great weariness by its monotony that only to be relieved\nof this one would prefer to become nothing. To desire that the\nindividuality should be immortal really means to wish to perpetuate an\nerror infinitely. For at bottom every individuality is really only a\nspecial error, a false step, something that had better not be; nay,\nsomething which it is the real end of life to bring us back from. This\nalso finds confirmation in the fact that the great majority, indeed really\nall men, are so constituted that they could not be happy in whatever kind\nof world they might be placed. In proportion as such a world excluded want\nand hardship, they would become a prey to ennui, and in proportion as this\nwas prevented, they would fall into want, misery, and suffering. Thus for\na blessed condition of man it would be by no means sufficient that he\nshould be transferred to a \u201cbetter world,\u201d but it would also be necessary\nthat a complete change should take place in himself; that thus he should\nno longer be what he is, and, on the contrary, should become what he is\nnot. But for this he must first of all cease to be what he is: this\ndesideratum is, as a preliminary, supplied by death, the moral necessity\nof which can already be seen from this point of view. To be transferred to\nanother world and to have his whole nature changed are, at bottom, one and\nthe same. Upon this also ultimately rests that dependence of the objective\nupon the subjective which the idealism of our first book shows.\nAccordingly here lies the point at which the transcendent philosophy links\nitself on to ethics. If one considers this one will find that the awaking\nfrom the dream of life is only possible through the disappearance along\nwith it of its whole ground\u2010warp also, But this is its organ itself, the\nintellect together with its forms, with which the dream would spin itself\nout without end, so firmly is it incorporated with it. That which really\ndreamt this dream is yet different from it, and alone remains over. On the\nother hand, the fear that with death all will be over may be compared to\nthe case of one who imagines in a dream that there are only dreams without\na dreamer. But now, after an individual consciousness has once been ended\nby death, would it even be desirable that it should be kindled again in\norder to continue for ever? The greater part of its content, nay,\ngenerally its whole content, is nothing but a stream of small, earthly,\npaltry thoughts and endless cares. Let them, then, at last be stilled!\nTherefore with a true instinct, the ancients inscribed upon their\ngravestones: _Securitati perpetu\u00e6_;\u2014or _Bon\u00e6 quieti_. But if here, as so\noften has happened, a continued existence of the individual consciousness\nshould be desired, in order to connect with it a future reward or\npunishment, what would really be aimed at in this would simply be the\ncompatibility of virtue and egoism. But these two will never embrace: they\nare fundamentally opposed. On the other hand, the conviction is well\nfounded, which the sight of noble conduct calls forth, that the spirit of\nlove, which enjoins one man to spare his enemy, and another to protect at\nthe risk of his life some one whom he has never seen before, can never\npass away and become nothing.\n\nThe most thorough answer to the question as to the continued existence of\nthe individual after death lies in Kant\u2019s great doctrine of the _ideality\nof time_, which just here shows itself specially fruitful and rich in\nconsequences, for it substitutes a purely theoretical but well\u2010proved\ninsight for dogmas which upon one path as upon the other lead to the\nabsurd, and thus settles at once the most exciting of all metaphysical\nquestions. Beginning, ending, and continuing are conceptions which derive\ntheir significance simply and solely from time, and are therefore valid\nonly under the presupposition of this. But time has no absolute existence;\nit is not the manner of being of the thing in itself, but merely the form\nof our _knowledge_ of our existence and nature, and that of all things,\nwhich is just on this account very imperfect, and is limited to mere\nphenomena. Thus with reference to this knowledge alone do the conceptions\nof ceasing and continuing find application, not with reference to that\nwhich exhibits itself in these, the inner being of things in relation to\nwhich these conceptions have therefore no longer any meaning. For this\nshows itself also in the fact that an answer to the question which arises\nfrom those time\u2010conceptions is impossible, and every assertion of such an\nanswer, whether upon one side or the other, is open to convincing\nobjections. One might indeed assert that our true being continues after\ndeath because it is false that it is destroyed; but one might just as well\nassert that it is destroyed because it is false that it continues: at\nbottom the one is as true as the other. Accordingly something like an\nantinomy might certainly be set up here. But it would rest upon mere\nnegations. In it one would deny two contradictorily opposite predicates of\nthe subject of the judgment, but only because the whole category of these\npredicates would be inapplicable to that subject. But if now one denies\nthese two predicates, not together, but separately, it appears as if the\ncontradictory opposite of the predicate which in each case is denied were\nproved of the subject of the judgment. This, however, depends upon the\nfact that here incommensurable quantities are compared, for the problem\nremoves us to a scene where time is abolished, and yet asks about temporal\nproperties which it is consequently equally false to attribute to, or to\ndeny of the subject. This just means: the problem is transcendent. In this\nsense death remains a mystery.\n\nOn the other hand, adhering to that distinction between phenomenon and\nthing in itself, we can make the assertion that, as phenomenon, man is\ncertainly perishable, but yet his true being will not be involved in this.\nThus this true being is indestructible, although, on account of the\nelimination of time\u2010conceptions which is connected with it, we cannot\nattribute to it continuance. Accordingly we would be led here to the\nconception of an indestructibility which would yet be no continuance. Now\nthis is a conception which, having been obtained on the path of\nabstraction, can certainly also be thought in the abstract, but yet cannot\nbe supported by any perception, and consequently cannot really become\ndistinct; yet, on the other hand, we must here keep in mind that we have\nnot, like Kant, absolutely given up the knowledge of the thing in itself,\nbut know that it is to be sought for in the will. It is true that we have\nnever asserted an absolute and exhaustive knowledge of the thing in\nitself, but rather have seen very well that it is impossible to know\nanything as it is absolutely and in itself. For as soon as I _know_, I\nhave an idea; but this idea, just because it is _my_ idea, cannot be\nidentical with what is known, but repeats it in an entirely different\nform, for it makes a being for other out of a being for self, and is thus\nalways to be regarded as a phenomenal appearance of the thing in itself.\nTherefore for a _knowing_ consciousness, however it may be constituted,\nthere can be always only phenomena. This is not entirely obviated even by\nthe fact that it is my own nature which is known; for, since it falls\nwithin my _knowing_ consciousness, it is already a reflex of my nature,\nsomething different from this itself, thus already in a certain degree\nphenomenon. So far, then, as I am a knowing being, I have even in my own\nnature really only a phenomenon; so far, on the other hand, as I am\ndirectly this nature itself, I am not a _knowing_ being. For it is\nsufficiently proved in the second book that knowledge is only a secondary\nproperty of our being, and introduced by its animal nature. Strictly\nspeaking, then, we know even our own will always merely as phenomenon, and\nnot as it may be absolutely in and for itself. But in that second book,\nand also in my work upon the will in nature, it is fully explained and\nproved that if, in order to penetrate into the inner nature of things,\nleaving what is given merely indirectly and from without, we stick to the\nonly phenomenon into the nature of which an immediate insight from within\nis attainable, we find in this quite definitely, as the ultimate kernel of\nreality, the will, in which therefore we recognise the thing in itself in\nso far as it has here no longer space, although it still has time, for its\nform consequently really only in its most immediate manifestation, and\nwith the reservation that this knowledge of it is still not exhaustive and\nentirely adequate. Thus in this sense we retain here also the conception\nof will as that of the thing in itself.\n\nThe conception of ceasing to be is certainly applicable to man as a\nphenomenon in time, and empirical knowledge plainly presents death as the\nend of this temporal existence. The end of the person is just as real as\nwas its beginning, and in the same sense as before birth we were not,\nafter death we shall be no more. Yet no more can be destroyed by death\nthan was produced by birth; thus not that through which birth first became\npossible. In this sense _natus et denatus_ is a beautiful expression. But\nnow the whole of empirical knowledge affords us merely phenomena;\ntherefore only phenomena are involved in the temporal processes of coming\ninto being and passing away, and not that which manifests itself in the\nphenomena, the thing in itself. For this the opposition of coming into\nbeing and passing away conditioned by the brain, does not exist at all,\nbut has here lost meaning and significance. It thus remains untouched by\nthe temporal end of a temporal phenomenon, and constantly retains that\nexistence to which the conceptions of beginning, end, and continuance are\nnot applicable. But the thing in itself, so far as we can follow it, is in\nevery phenomenal being the will of this being: so also in man.\nConsciousness, on the other hand, consists in knowledge. But knowledge, as\nactivity of the brain, and consequently as function of the organism,\nbelongs, as has been sufficiently proved, to the mere phenomenon, and\ntherefore ends with this. The will alone, whose work, or rather whose\nimage was the body, is that which is indestructible. The sharp distinction\nof will from knowledge, together with the primacy of the former, which\nconstitutes the fundamental characteristic of my philosophy, is therefore\nthe only key to the contradiction which presents itself in so many ways,\nand arises ever anew in every consciousness, even the most crude, that\ndeath is our end, and that yet we must be eternal and indestructible, thus\nthe _sentimus, experimurque nos \u00e6ternos esse_ of Spinoza. All philosophers\nhave erred in this: they place the metaphysical, the indestructible, the\neternal element in man in the _intellect_. It lies exclusively in the\n_will_, which is entirely different from the intellect, and alone is\noriginal. The intellect, as was most fully shown in the second book, is a\nsecondary phenomenon, and conditioned by the brain, therefore beginning\nand ending with this. The will alone is that which conditions, the kernel\nof the whole phenomenon, consequently free from the forms of the\nphenomenon to which time belongs, thus also indestructible. Accordingly\nwith death consciousness is certainly lost, but not that which produced\nand sustained consciousness; life is extinguished, but not the principle\nof life also, which manifested itself in it. Therefore a sure feeling\ninforms every one that there is something in him which is absolutely\nimperishable and indestructible. Indeed the freshness and vividness of\nmemories of the most distant time, of earliest childhood, bears witness to\nthe fact that something in us does not pass away with time, does not grow\nold, but endures unchanged. But what this imperishable element is one\ncould not make clear to oneself. It is not consciousness any more than it\nis the body upon which clearly consciousness depends. But it is just that\nwhich, when it appears in consciousness, presents itself as _will_. Beyond\nthis immediate manifestation of it we certainly cannot go; because we\ncannot go beyond consciousness; therefore the question what that may be\nwhen it does not come within consciousness, _i.e._, what it is absolutely\nin itself, remains unanswerable.\n\nIn the phenomenon, and by means of its forms, time and space, as\n_principium individuationis_, what presents itself is that the human\nindividual perishes, while the human race, on the contrary, always remains\nand lives. But in the true being of things, which is free from these\nforms, this whole distinction between the individual and the race also\ndisappears, and the two are immediately one. The whole will to live is in\nthe individual, as it is in the race, and therefore the continuance of the\nspecies is merely the image of the indestructibility of the individual.\n\nSince, then, the infinitely important understanding of the\nindestructibility of our true nature by death depends entirely upon the\ndistinction between phenomenon and thing in itself, I wish now to bring\nthis difference into the clearest light by explaining it in the opposite\nof death, thus in the origin of the animal existence, _i.e._, generation.\nFor this process, which is just as mysterious as death, presents to us\nmost directly the fundamental opposition between the phenomenal appearance\nand the true being of things, _i.e._, between the world as idea and the\nworld as will, and also the entire heterogeneity of the laws of these two.\nThe act of procreation presents itself to us in a twofold manner: first,\nfor self\u2010consciousness, whose only object, as I have often shown, is the\nwill, with all its affections; and then for the consciousness of other\nthings, _i.e._, the world of idea, or the empirical reality of things.\nNow, from the side of the will, thus inwardly, subjectively, for self\u2010\nconsciousness, that act presents itself as the most immediate and complete\nsatisfaction of the will, _i.e._, as sensual pleasure. From the side of\nthe idea, on the other hand, thus externally, objectively, for the\nconsciousness of other things, this act is just the woof of the most\ncunning of webs, the foundation of the inexpressibly complicated animal\norganism, which then only requires to be developed to become visible to\nour astonished eyes. This organism, whose infinite complication and\nperfection is only known to him who has studied anatomy, cannot, from the\nside of the idea, be otherwise conceived and thought of than as a system\ndevised with the most ingenious forethought and carried out with the most\nconsummate skill and exactness, as the most arduous work of profound\nreflection. But from the side of the will we know, through self\u2010\nconsciousness, the production of this organism as the work of an act which\nis exactly the opposite of all reflection, an impetuous, blind impulse, an\nexceedingly pleasurable sensation. This opposition is closely related to\nthe infinite contrast, which is shown above, between the absolute facility\nwith which nature produces its works, together with the correspondingly\nboundless carelessness with which it abandons them to destruction, and the\nincalculably ingenious and studied construction of these very works,\njudging from which they must have been infinitely difficult to make, and\ntheir maintenance should have been provided for with all conceivable care;\nwhile we have the opposite before our eyes. If now by this certainly very\nunusual consideration, we have brought together in the boldest manner the\ntwo heterogeneous sides of the world, and, as it were, grasped them with\none hand, we must now hold them fast in order to convince ourselves of the\nentire invalidity of the laws of the phenomenon, or the world as idea, for\nthat of will, or the thing in itself. Then it will become more\ncomprehensible to us that while on the side of the idea, that is, in the\nphenomenal world, there exhibits itself to us now an arising out of\nnothing, and now an entire annihilation of what has arisen, from that\nother side, or in itself, a nature lies before us with reference to which\nthe conceptions of arising and passing away have no significance. For, by\ngoing back to the root, where, by means of self\u2010consciousness, the\nphenomenon and the thing in itself meet, we have just, as it were,\npalpably apprehended that the two are absolutely incommensurable, and the\nwhole manner of being of the one, together with all the fundamental laws\nof its being, signify nothing, and less than nothing, in the other. I\nbelieve that this last consideration will only be rightly understood by a\nfew, and that it will be displeasing and even offensive to all who do not\nunderstand it, but I shall never on this account omit anything that can\nserve to illustrate my fundamental thought.\n\nAt the beginning of this chapter I have explained that the great clinging\nto life, or rather fear of death, by no means springs from knowledge, in\nwhich case it would be the result of the known value of life; but that\nthat fear of death has its root directly in the _will_, out of the\noriginal nature of which it proceeds, in which it is entirely without\nknowledge, and therefore blind will to live. As we are allured into life\nby the wholly illusory inclination to sensual pleasure, so we are retained\nin it by the fear of death, which is certainly just as illusory. Both\nspring directly from the will, which in itself is unconscious. If, on the\ncontrary, man were merely a _knowing_ being, then death would necessarily\nbe to him not only indifferent, but even welcome. The reflection to which\nwe have here attained now teaches that what is affected by death is merely\nthe _knowing_ consciousness, and the will, on the other hand, because it\nis the thing in itself, which lies at the foundation of every phenomenon,\nis free from all that depends upon temporal determinations, thus is also\nimperishable. Its striving towards existence and manifestation, from which\nthe world results, is constantly satisfied, for this accompanies it as the\nshadow accompanies the body, for it is merely the visibility of its\nnature. That yet in us it fears death results from the fact that here\nknowledge presents its existence to it as merely in the individual\nphenomenon, whence the illusion arises that it will perish with this, as\nmy image in a mirror seems to be destroyed along with it if the mirror is\nbroken; this then, as contrary to its original nature, which is a blind\nstriving towards existence, fills it with horror. From this now it follows\nthat that in us which alone is capable of fearing death, and also alone\nfears it, the _will_, is not affected by it; and that, on the other hand,\nwhat is affected by it and really perishes is that which from its nature\nis capable of no fear, and in general of no desire or emotion, and is\ntherefore indifferent to being and not being, the mere subject of\nknowledge, the intellect, whose existence consists in its relation to the\nworld of idea, _i.e._, the objective world, whose correlative it is, and\nwith whose existence its own is ultimately one. Thus, although the\nindividual consciousness does not survive death, yet that survives it\nwhich alone struggles against it\u2014the will. This also explains the\ncontradiction that from the standpoint of knowledge philosophers have\nalways proved with cogent reasons that death is no evil; yet the fear of\ndeath remains inevitable for all, because it is rooted, not in knowledge,\nbut in the will. It is also a result of the fact that only the will, and\nnot the intellect, is indestructible, that all religions and philosophies\npromise a reward in eternity only to the virtues of the will, or heart,\nnot to those of the intellect, or head.\n\nThe following may also serve to illustrate this consideration. The will,\nwhich constitutes our true being, is of a simple nature; it merely wills,\nand does not know. The subject of knowledge, on the other hand, is a\nsecondary phenomenon, arising from the objectification of the will; it is\nthe point of unity of the sensibility of the nervous system, as it were\nthe focus in which the rays of the activity of all the parts of the brain\nunite. With this, then, it must perish. In self\u2010consciousness, as that\nwhich alone knows, it stands over against the will as its spectator, and,\nalthough sprung from it, knows it as something different from itself,\nsomething foreign to it, and consequently also only empirically, in time,\nby degrees, in its successive excitements and acts, and also learns its\ndecisions only _a posteriori_, and often very indirectly. This explains\nthe fact that our own nature is a riddle to us, _i.e._, to our intellect,\nand that the individual regards itself as having newly arisen and as\nperishable; although its true nature is independent of time, thus is\neternal. As now the _will_ does not _know_, so conversely the intellect,\nor the subject of knowledge, is simply and solely _knowing_, without ever\n_willing_. This can be proved even physically in the fact that, as was\nalready mentioned in the second book, according to Bichat, the various\nemotions directly affect all parts of the organism and disturb their\nfunctions, with the exception of the brain, which can only be affected by\nthem very indirectly, _i.e._, just in consequence of those disturbances\n(_De la vie et de la mort_, art. 6, \u00a7 2). But from this it follows that\nthe subject of knowledge, for itself and as such, cannot take part or\ninterest in anything, but for it the being or not being of everything,\nnay, even of its own self, is a matter of indifference. Now why should\nthis purely neutral being be immortal? It ends with the temporal\nmanifestation of the will, _i.e._, the individual, as it arose with it. It\nis the lantern which is extinguished when it has served its end. The\nintellect, like the perceptible world which exists only in it, is a mere\nphenomenon; but the finiteness of both does not affect that of which they\nare the phenomenal appearance. The intellect is the function of the\ncerebral nervous system; but the latter, like the rest of the body, is the\nobjectivity of the _will_. Therefore the intellect depends upon the\nsomatic life of the organism; but this itself depends upon the will. The\norganised body may thus, in a certain sense, be regarded as the link\nbetween the will and the intellect; although really it is only the will\nitself exhibiting itself spatially in the perception of the intellect.\nDeath and birth are the constant renewal of the consciousness of the will,\nin itself without end and without beginning, which alone is, as it were,\nthe substance of existence (but each such renewal brings a new possibility\nof the denial of the will to live). Consciousness is the life of the\nsubject of knowledge, or the brain, and death is its end. And therefore,\nfinally, consciousness is always new, in each case beginning at the\nbeginning. The will alone is permanent; and, moreover, it is it alone that\npermanence concerns; for it is the will to live. The knowing subject for\nitself is not concerned about anything. In the ego, however, the two are\nbound up together. In every animal existence the will has achieved an\nintellect which is the light by which it here pursues its ends. It may be\nremarked by the way that the fear of death may also partly depend upon the\nfact that the individual will is so loath to separate from the intellect\nwhich has fallen to its lot through the course of nature, its guide and\nguard, without which it knows that it is helpless and blind.\n\nFinally, this explanation also agrees with the commonplace moral\nexperience which teaches us that the will alone is real, while its\nobjects, on the other hand, as conditioned by knowledge, are only\nphenomena, are only froth and vapour, like the wine which Mephistopheles\nprovided in Auerbach\u2019s cellar: after every sensuous pleasure we also say,\n\u201cAnd yet it seemed as I were drinking wine.\u201d\n\nThe terrors of death depend for the most part upon the false illusion that\nnow the ego vanishes and the world remains. But rather is the opposite the\ncase; the world vanishes, but the inmost kernel of the ego, the supporter\nand producer of that subject, in whose idea alone the world has its\nexistence, remains. With the brain the intellect perishes, and with the\nintellect the objective world, its mere idea. That in other brains,\nafterwards as before, a similar world lives and moves is, with reference\nto the intellect which perishes, a matter of indifference. If, therefore,\nreality proper did not lie in the _will_, and if the moral existence were\nnot that which extends beyond death, then, since the intellect, and with\nit its world, is extinguished, the true nature of things in general would\nbe no more than an endless succession of short and troubled dreams,\nwithout connection among themselves; for the permanence of unconscious\nnature consists merely in the idea of time of conscious nature. Thus a\nworld\u2010spirit dreaming without end or aim, dreams which for the most part\nare very troubled and heavy, would then be all in all.\n\nWhen, now, an individual experiences the fear of death, we have really\nbefore us the extraordinary, nay, absurd, spectacle of the lord of the\nworlds, who fills all with his being, and through whom alone everything\nthat is has its existence, desponding and afraid of perishing, of sinking\ninto the abyss of eternal nothingness;\u2014while, in truth, all is full of\nhim, and there is no place where he is not, no being in which he does not\nlive; for it is not existence that supports him, but he that supports\nexistence. Yet it is he who desponds in the individual who suffers from\nthe fear of death, for he is exposed to the illusion produced by the\n_principium individuationis_ that his existence is limited to the nature\nwhich is now dying. This illusion belongs to the heavy dream into which,\nas the will to live, he has fallen. But one might say to the dying\nindividual: \u201cThou ceasest to be something which thou hadst done better\nnever to become.\u201d\n\nSo long as no denial of the will takes place, what death leaves untouched\nis the germ and kernel of quite another existence, in which a new\nindividual finds itself again, so fresh and original that it broods over\nitself in astonishment. What sleep is for the individual, death is for the\nwill as thing in itself. It would not endure to continue the same actions\nand sufferings throughout an eternity without true gain, if memory and\nindividuality remained to it. It flings them off, and this is lethe; and\nthrough this sleep of death it reappears refreshed and fitted out with\nanother intellect, as a new being\u2014\u201ca new day tempts to new shores.\u201d\n\nAs the self\u2010asserting will to live man has the root of his existence in\nthe species. Accordingly death is the loss of one individuality and the\nassumption of another, consequently a change of individuality under the\nexclusive guidance of one\u2019s own will. For in this alone lies the eternal\npower which could produce its existence with its ego, yet, on account of\nits nature, was not able to maintain it in existence. For death is the\n_d\u00e9menti_ which the essence (_essentia_) of every one receives in its\nclaim to existence (_existentia_), the appearance of a contradiction which\nlies in every individual existence:\n\n\n          \u201cFor all that arises\n    Is worthy of being destroyed.\u201d\n\n\nBut an infinite number of such existences, each with its ego, stands\nwithin reach of this power, thus of the will, which, however, will again\nprove just as transitory and perishable. Since now every ego has its\nseparate consciousness, that infinite number of them is, with reference to\nsuch an ego, not different from a single one. From this point of view it\nappears to me not accidental that _\u00e6vum_, \u03b1\u1f30\u03c9\u03bd, signifies both the\nindividual term of life and infinite time. Indeed from this point of view\nit may be seen, although indistinctly, that ultimately and in themselves\nboth are the same; and according to this there would really be no\ndifference whether I existed only through my term of life or for an\ninfinite time.\n\nCertainly, however, we cannot obtain an idea of all that is said above\nentirely without time\u2010concepts; yet when we are dealing with the thing in\nitself these ought to be excluded. But it belongs to the unalterable\nlimitations of our intellect that it can never entirely cast off this\nfirst and most immediate form of all its ideas, in order to operate\nwithout it. Therefore we certainly come here upon a kind of\nmetempsychosis, although with the important difference that it does not\nconcern the whole \u03c8\u03c5\u03c7\u03b7, not the _knowing_ being, but the _will_ alone; and\nthus, with the consciousness that the form of time only enters here as an\nunavoidable concession to the limitation of our intellect, so many\nabsurdities which accompany the doctrine of metempsychosis disappear. If,\nindeed, we now call in the assistance of the fact, to be explained in\nchapter 43, that the character, _i.e._, the will, is inherited from the\nfather, and the intellect, on the other hand, from the mother, it agrees\nvery well with our view that the will of a man, in itself individual,\nseparated itself in death from the intellect received from the mother in\ngeneration, and in accordance with its now modified nature, under the\nguidance of the absolutely necessary course of the world harmonising with\nthis, received through a new generation a new intellect, with which it\nbecame a new being, which had no recollection of an earlier existence; for\nthe intellect, which alone has the faculty of memory, is the mortal part\nor the form, while the will is the eternal part, the substance. In\naccordance with this, this doctrine is more correctly denoted by the word\npalingenesis than by metempsychosis. These constant new births, then,\nconstitute the succession of the life\u2010dreams of a will which in itself is\nindestructible, until, instructed and improved by so much and such various\nsuccessive knowledge in a constantly new form, it abolishes or abrogates\nitself.\n\nThe true and, so to speak, esoteric doctrine of Buddhism, as we have come\nto know it through the latest investigations, also agrees with this view,\nfor it teaches not metempsychosis, but a peculiar palingenesis, resting\nupon a moral basis which it works out and explains with great profundity.\nThis may be seen from the exposition of the subject, well worth reading\nand pondering, which is given in Spence Hardy\u2019s \u201cManual of Buddhism,\u201d pp.\n394\u201096 (with which compare pp. 429, 440, and 445 of the same book), the\nconfirmation of which is to be found in Taylor\u2019s \u201c_Prabodh Chandro Daya_,\u201d\nLondon, 1812, p. 35; also in Sangermano\u2019s \u201cBurmese Empire,\u201d p. 6, and in\nthe \u201cAsiatic Researches,\u201d vol. vi. p. 179, and vol. ix. p. 256. The very\nuseful German compendium of Buddhism by K\u00f6ppen is also right upon this\npoint. Yet for the great mass of Buddhists this doctrine is too subtle;\ntherefore to them simple metempsychosis is preached as a comprehensible\nsubstitute.\n\nBesides, it must not be neglected that even empirical grounds support a\npalingenesis of this kind. As a matter of fact there does exist a\nconnection between the birth of the newly appearing beings and the death\nof those that are worn out. It shows itself in the great fruitfulness of\nthe human race which appears as a consequence of devastating diseases.\nWhen in the fourteenth century the black death had for the most part\ndepopulated the old world, a quite abnormal fruitfulness appeared among\nthe human race, and twin\u2010births were very frequent. The circumstance was\nalso very remarkable that none of the children born at this time obtained\ntheir full number of teeth; thus nature, exerting itself to the utmost,\nwas niggardly in details. This is related by F. Schnurrer, \u201c_Chronik der\nSeuchen_,\u201d 1825. Casper also, \u201c_Ueber die wahrscheinliche Lebensdauer des\nMenschen_,\u201d 1835, confirms the principle that the number of births in a\ngiven population has the most decided influence upon the length of life\nand mortality in it, as this always keeps pace with the mortality: so that\nalways and everywhere the deaths and the births increase and decrease in\nlike proportion; which he places beyond doubt by an accumulation of\nevidence collected from many lands and their various provinces. And yet it\nis impossible that there can be a _physical_ causal connection between my\nearly death and the fruitfulness of a marriage with which I have nothing\nto do, or conversely. Thus here the metaphysical appears undeniably and in\na stupendous manner as the immediate ground of explanation of the\nphysical. Every new\u2010born being indeed comes fresh and blithe into the new\nexistence, and enjoys it as a free gift: but there is, and can be, nothing\nfreely given. Its fresh existence is paid for by the old age and death of\na worn\u2010out existence which has perished, but which contained the\nindestructible seed out of which this new existence has arisen: they are\n_one_ being. To show the bridge between the two would certainly be the\nsolution of a great riddle.\n\nThe great truth which is expressed here has never been entirely\nunacknowledged, although it could not be reduced to its exact and correct\nmeaning, which is only possible through the doctrine of the primacy and\nmetaphysical nature of the will and the secondary, merely organic nature\nof the intellect. We find the doctrine of metempsychosis, springing from\nthe earliest and noblest ages of the human race, always spread abroad in\nthe earth as the belief of the great majority of mankind, nay, really as\nthe teaching of all religions, with the exception of that of the Jews and\nthe two which have proceeded from it: in the most subtle form, however,\nand coming nearest to the truth, as has already been mentioned, in\nBuddhism. Accordingly, while Christians console themselves with the\nthought of meeting again in another world, in which one regains one\u2019s\ncomplete personality and knows oneself at once, in those other religions\nthe meeting again is already going on now, only incognito. In the\nsuccession of births, and by virtue of metempsychosis or palingenesis, the\npersons who now stand in close connection or contact with us will also be\nborn along with us at the next birth, and will have the same or analogous\nrelations and sentiments towards us as now, whether these are of a\nfriendly or a hostile description. (_Cf._, for example, Spence Hardy\u2019s\n\u201cManual of Buddhism,\u201d p. 162.) Recognition is certainly here limited to an\nobscure intimation, a reminiscence which cannot be brought to distinct\nconsciousness, and refers to an infinitely distant time;\u2014with the\nexception, however, of Buddha himself, who has the prerogative of\ndistinctly knowing his own earlier births and those of others;\u2014as this is\ndescribed in the \u201cJ\u00e2taka.\u201d But, in fact, if at favourable moment one\ncontemplates, in a purely objective manner, the action of men in reality;\nthe intuitive conviction is forced upon one that it not only is and\nremains constantly the same, according to the (Platonic) Idea, but also\nthat the present generation, in its true inner nature, is precisely and\nsubstantially identical with every generation that has been before it. The\nquestion simply is in what this true being consists. The answer which my\ndoctrine gives to this question is well known. The intuitive conviction\nreferred to may be conceived as arising from the fact that the\nmultiplying\u2010glasses, time and space, lose for a moment their effect. With\nreference to the universality of the belief in metempsychosis, Obry says\nrightly, in his excellent book, \u201c_Du Nirvana Indien_,\u201d p. 13: \u201c_Cette\nvieille croyance a fait le tour du monde, et \u00e9tait tellement r\u00e9pandue dans\nla haute antiquit\u00e9, qu\u2019un docte Anglican l\u2019avait jug\u00e9e sans p\u00e8re, sans\nm\u00e8re, et sans g\u00e9n\u00e9alogie_\u201d (_Ths. Burnet, dans Beausobre, Hist. du\nManich\u00e9isme_, ii. p. 391). Taught already in the \"Vedas,\" as in all the\nsacred books of India, metempsychosis is well known to be the kernel of\nBrahmanism and Buddhism. It accordingly prevails at the present day in the\nwhole of non\u2010Mohammedan Asia, thus among more than half of the whole human\nrace, as the firmest conviction, and with an incredibly strong practical\ninfluence. It was also the belief of the Egyptians (Herod., ii. 123), from\nwhom it was received with enthusiasm by Orpheus. Pythagoras, and Plato:\nthe Pythagoreans, however, specially retained it. That it was also taught\nin the mysteries of the Greeks undeniably follows from the ninth book of\nPlato\u2019s \u201cLaws\u201d (pp. 38 and 42, ed. Bip.) Nemesius indeed (_De nat. hom._,\nc. 2) says: \u201c\u039a\u03bf\u03b9\u03bd\u03b7 \u03bc\u03b5\u03bd \u03bf\u1f50\u03bd \u03c0\u03b1\u03bd\u03c4\u03b5\u03c2 \u1f19\u03bb\u03bb\u03b7\u03bd\u03b5\u03c2, \u03bf\u1f31 \u03c4\u03b7\u03bd \u03c8\u03c5\u03c7\u03b7\u03bd \u03b1\u03b8\u03b1\u03bd\u03b1\u03c4\u03bf\u03bd\n\u03b1\u03c0\u03bf\u03c6\u03b7\u03bd\u03b1\u03bc\u03b5\u03bd\u03bf\u03b9, \u03c4\u03b7\u03bd \u03bc\u03b5\u03c4\u03b5\u03bd\u03c3\u03c9\u03bc\u03b1\u03c4\u03c9\u03c3\u03b9\u03bd \u03b4\u03bf\u03b3\u03bc\u03b1\u03c4\u03b9\u03b6\u03bf\u03c5\u03c3\u03b9.\u201d (_Communiter igitur omnes\nGr\u00e6ci, qui animam immortalem statuerunt, eam de uno corpore in aliud\ntransferri censuerunt._) The \u201cEdda\u201d also, especially in the \u201cV\u00f6lusp\u00e1,\u201d\nteaches metempsychosis. Not less was it the foundation of the religion of\nthe Druids (_C\u00e6s. de bello Gall._, vi.; _A. Pictet, Le myst\u00e8re des Bardes\nde l\u2019ile de Bretagne_, 1856). Even a Mohammedan sect in Hindostan, the\nBohrahs, of which Colebrooke gives a full account in the \u201cAsiatic\nResearches,\u201d vol. vii. p. 336 _sqq._, believes in metempsychosis, and\naccordingly refrains from all animal food. Also among American Indians and\nnegro tribes, nay, even among the natives of Australia, traces of this\nbelief are found, as appears from a minute description given in the\n_Times_ of 29th January 1841 of the execution of two Australian savages\nfor arson and murder. It is said there: \u201cThe younger of the two prisoners\nmet his end with a dogged and a determined spirit, as it appeared, of\nrevenge; the only intelligible expressions made use of conveyed an\nimpression that he would rise up a \u2018white fellow,\u2019 which it was considered\nstrengthened his resolution.\u201d Also in a book by Ungewitter, \u201c_Der\nWelttheil Australien_,\u201d it is related that the Papuas in Australia\nregarded the whites as their own relations who had returned to the world.\nAccording to all this, the belief in metempsychosis presents itself as the\nnatural conviction of man, whenever he reflects at all in an unprejudiced\nmanner. It would really be that which Kant falsely asserts of his three\npretended Ideas of the reason, a philosopheme natural to human reason,\nwhich proceeds from its forms; and when it is not found it must have been\ndisplaced by positive religious doctrines coming from a different source.\nI have also remarked that it is at once obvious to every one who hears of\nit for the first time. Let any one only observe how earnestly Lessing\ndefends it in the last seven paragraphs of his \u201c_Erziehung des\nMenschengeschlechts_.\u201d Lichtenberg also says in his\n\u201c_Selbstcharacteristik_:\u201d \u201cI cannot get rid of the thought that I died\nbefore I was born.\u201d Even the excessively empirical Hume says in his\nsceptical essay on immortality, p. 23: \u201cThe metempsychosis is therefore\nthe only system of this kind that philosophy can hearken to.\u201d(31) What\nresists this belief, which is spread over the whole human race and\ncommends itself alike to the wise and to the vulgar, is Judaism, together\nwith the two religions which have sprung from it, because they teach the\ncreation of man out of nothing, and he has then the hard task of linking\non to this the belief in an endless existence _a parte post_. They\ncertainly have succeeded, with fire and sword, in driving out of Europe\nand part of Asia that consoling primitive belief of mankind; it is still\ndoubtful for how long. Yet how difficult this was is shown by the oldest\nChurch histories. Most of the heretics were attached to this primitive\nbelief; for example, Simonists, Basilidians, Valentinians, Marcionists,\nGnostics, and Manich\u00e6ans. The Jews themselves have in part fallen into it,\nas Tertullian and Justinus (in his dialogues) inform us. In the Talmud it\nis related that Abel\u2019s soul passed into the body of Seth, and then into\nthat of Moses. Even the passage of the Bible, Matt. xvi. 13\u201015, only\nobtains a rational meaning if we understand it as spoken under the\nassumption of the dogma of metempsychosis. Luke, it is true, who also has\nthe passage (ix. 18\u201020), adds the words \u1f41\u03c4\u03b9 \u03c0\u03c1\u03bf\u03c6\u03b7\u03c4\u03b7\u03c2 \u03c4\u03b9\u03c2 \u03c4\u03c9\u03bd \u03b1\u03c1\u03c7\u03b1\u03b9\u03c9\u03bd\n\u03b1\u03bd\u03b5\u03c3\u03c4\u1fc3, and thus attributes to the Jews the assumption that such an\nancient prophet can rise again body and all, which, since they know that\nhe has already lain between six and seven hundred years in his grave, and\nconsequently has long since turned to dust, would be a palpable absurdity.\nIn Christianity, however, the doctrine of original sin, _i.e._, the\ndoctrine of punishment for the sins of another individual, has taken the\nplace of the transmigration of souls and the expiation in this way of all\nthe sins committed in an earlier life. Both identify, and that with a\nmoral tendency, the existing man with one who has existed before; the\ntransmigration of souls does so directly, original sin indirectly.\n\nDeath is the great reprimand which the will to live, or more especially\nthe egoism, which is essential to this, receives through the course of\nnature; and it may be conceived as a punishment for our existence.(32) It\nis the painful loosing of the knot which the act of generation had tied\nwith sensual pleasure, the violent destruction coming from without of the\nfundamental error of our nature: the great disillusion. We are at bottom\nsomething that ought not to be: therefore we cease to be. Egoism consists\nreally in the fact that man limits all reality to his own person, in that\nhe imagines that he lives in this alone and not in others. Death teaches\nhim better, for it destroys this person, so that the true nature of man,\nwhich is his will, will henceforth live only in other individuals; while\nhis intellect, which itself belonged only to the phenomenon, _i.e._, to\nthe world as idea, and was merely the form of the external world, also\ncontinues to exist in the condition of being idea, _i.e._, in the\n_objective_ being of things as such, thus also only in the existence of\nwhat was hitherto the external world. His whole ego thus lives from this\ntime forth only in that which he had hitherto regarded as non\u2010ego: for the\ndifference between external and internal ceases. We call to mind here that\nthe better man is he who makes the least difference between himself and\nothers, does not regard them as absolute non\u2010ego, while for the bad man\nthis difference is great, nay, absolute. I have worked this out in my\nprize essay on the foundation of morals. According to what was said above,\nthe degree in which death can be regarded as the annihilation of the man\nis in proportion to this difference. But if we start from the fact that\nthe distinction of outside me and in me, as a spatial distinction, is only\nfounded in the phenomenon, not in the thing in itself, thus is no\nabsolutely real distinction, then we shall see in the losing of our own\nindividuality only the loss of a phenomenon, thus only an apparent loss.\nHowever much reality that distinction has in the empirical consciousness,\nyet from the metaphysical standpoint the propositions, \u201cI perish, but the\nworld endures,\u201d and \u201cThe world perishes but I endure,\u201d are at bottom not\nreally different.\n\nBut, besides all this, death is the great opportunity no longer to be\nI;\u2014to him who uses it. During life the will of man is without freedom: his\naction takes place with necessity upon the basis of his unalterable\ncharacter in the chain of motives. But every one remembers much that he\nhas done, and on account of which he is by no means satisfied with\nhimself. If now he were to go on living, he would go on acting in the same\nway, on account of the unalterable nature of his character. Accordingly he\nmust cease to be what he is in order to be able to arise out of the germ\nof his nature as a new and different being. Therefore death looses these\nbonds; the will again becomes free; for freedom lies in the _Esse_, not in\nthe _Operari_. \u201c_Finditur nodus cordis, dissolvuntur omnes dubitationes,\nejusque opera evanescunt_,\u201d is a very celebrated saying of the Vedas,\nwhich all Vedantic writers frequently repeat.(33) Death is the moment of\nthat deliverance from the one\u2010sidedness of an individuality which does not\nconstitute the inmost kernel of our being, but is rather to be thought of\nas a kind of aberration of it. The true original freedom re\u2010enters at this\nmoment, which, in the sense indicated, may be regarded as a _restitutio in\nintegrum_. The peace and quietness upon the countenance of most dead\npersons seems to have its origin in this. Quiet and easy is, as a rule,\nthe death of every good man: but to die willingly, to die gladly, to die\njoyfully, is the prerogative of the resigned, of him who surrenders and\ndenies the will to live. For only he wills to die _really_, and not merely\n_apparently_, and consequently he needs and desires no continuance of his\nperson. The existence which we know he willingly gives up: what he gets\ninstead of it is in our eyes _nothing_, because our existence is, with\nreference to that, _nothing_. The Buddhist faith calls it Nirvana,(34)\n_i.e._, extinction.\n\n\n\n\nChapter XLII. The Life Of The Species.\n\n\nIn the preceding chapter it was called to mind that the (Platonic) Ideas\nof the different grades of beings, which are the adequate objectification\nof the will to live, exhibit themselves in the knowledge of the\nindividual, which is bound to the form of time, as the _species_, _i.e._,\nas the successive individuals of one kind connected by the bond of\ngeneration, and that therefore the species is the Idea (\u03b5\u1f30\u03b4\u03bf\u03c2, _species_)\nbroken up in time. Accordingly the true nature of every living thing lies\nprimarily in its species: yet the species again has its existence only in\nthe individuals. Now, although the will only attains to self\u2010consciousness\nin the individual, thus knows itself immediately only as the individual,\nyet the deep\u2010seated consciousness that it is really the species in which\nhis true nature objectifies itself appears in the fact that for the\nindividual the concerns of the species as such, thus the relations of the\nsexes, the production and nourishment of the offspring, are of\nincomparably greater importance and consequence than everything else.\nHence, then, arises in the case of the brutes, heat or rut (an excellent\ndescription of the vehemence of which will be found in Burdach\u2019s\n\u201cPhysiology,\u201d vol. i. \u00a7\u00a7 247, 257), and, in the case of man, the careful\nand capricious selection of the other individual for the satisfaction of\nthe sexual impulse, which can rise to the height of passionate love, to\nthe fuller investigation of which I shall devote a special chapter: hence\nalso, finally the excessive love of parents for their offspring.\n\nIn the supplements to the second book the will was compared to the root\nand the intellect to the crown of the tree; and this is the case inwardly\nor psychologically. But outwardly or physiologically the genitals are the\nroot and the head the crown. The nourishing part is certainly not the\ngenitals, but the villi of the intestines: yet not the latter but the\nformer are the root; because through them the individual is connected with\nthe species in which it is rooted. For physically the individual is a\nproduction of the species, metaphysically a more or less perfect picture\nof the Idea, which, in the form of time, exhibits itself as species. In\nagreement with the relation expressed here, the greatest vitality, and\nalso the decrepitude of the brain and the genital organs, is simultaneous\nand stands in connection. The sexual impulse is to be regarded as the\ninner life of the tree (the species) upon which the life of the individual\ngrows, like a leaf that is nourished by the tree, and assists in\nnourishing the tree; this is why that impulse is so strong, and springs\nfrom the depths of our nature. To castrate an individual means to cut him\noff from the tree of the species upon which he grows, and thus severed,\nleave him to wither: hence the degradation of his mental and physical\npowers. That the service of the species, _i.e._, fecundation, is followed\nin the case of every animal individual by momentary exhaustion and\ndebility of all the powers, and in the case of most insects indeed by\nspeedy death, on account of which Celsus said, \u201c_Seminis emissio est\npartis anim\u00e6 jactura_;\u201d that in the case of man the extinction of the\ngenerative power shows that the individual approaches death; that\nexcessive use of this power at every age shortens life, while, on the\nother hand, temperance in this respect increases all the powers, and\nespecially the muscular powers, on which account it was part of the\ntraining of the Greek athletes; that the same restraint lengthens the life\nof the insect even to the following spring; all this points to the fact\nthat the life of the individual is at bottom only borrowed from the\nspecies, and that all vital force is, as it were, force of the species\nrestricted by being dammed up. But this is to be explained from the fact\nthat the metaphysical substratum of life reveals itself directly in the\nspecies and only by means of this in the individual. Accordingly the\nLingam with the Yoni, as the symbol of the species and its immortality, is\nworshipped in India, and, as the counterpoise of death, is ascribed as an\nattribute to the very divinity who presides over death, Siva.\n\nBut without myth or symbol, the vehemence of the sexual impulse, the keen\nintentness and profound seriousness with which every animal, including\nman, pursues its concerns, shows that it is through the function which\nserves it that the animal belongs to that in which really and principally\nits true being lies, the _species_; while all other functions and organs\ndirectly serve only the individual, whose existence is at bottom merely\nsecondary. In the vehemence of that impulse, which is the concentration of\nthe whole animal nature, the consciousness further expresses itself that\nthe individual does not endure, and therefore all must be staked on the\nmaintenance of the species, in which its true existence lies.\n\nTo illustrate what has been said, let us now imagine a brute in rut, and\nin the act of generation. We see a seriousness and intentness never known\nin it at any other time. Now what goes on in it? Does it know that it must\ndie, and that through its present occupation a new individual, which yet\nentirely resembles itself, will arise in order to take its place? Of all\nthis it knows nothing, for it does not think. But it is as intently\ncareful for the continuance of the species in time as if it knew all that.\nFor it is conscious that it desires to live and exist, and it expresses\nthe highest degree of this volition in the act of generation; this is all\nthat then takes place in its consciousness. This is also quite sufficient\nfor the permanence of the kind; just because the will is the radical and\nknowledge the adventitious. On this account the will does not require to\nbe guided by knowledge throughout; but whenever in its primitive\noriginality it has resolved, this volition will objectify itself of its\nown accord in the world of the idea. If now in this way it is that\ndefinite animal form which we have thought of that wills life and\nexistence, it does not will life and existence in general, but in this\nparticular form. Therefore it is the sight of its form in the female of\nits species that stimulates the will of the brute to the act of\ngeneration. This volition of the brute, when regarded from without and\nunder the form of time, presents itself as such an animal form maintained\nthrough an infinite time by the constantly repeated replacement of one\nindividual by another, thus by the alternation of death and reproduction,\nwhich so regarded appear only as the pulse\u2010beats of that form (\u03b9\u03b4\u03b5\u03b1,\n\u03b5\u1f30\u03b4\u03bf\u03c2, _species_) which endures through all time. They may be compared to\nthe forces of attraction and repulsion in which matter consists. That\nwhich is shown here in the brute holds good also of man; for although in\nhim the act of generation is accompanied by complete knowledge of its\nfinal cause, yet it is not guided by this knowledge, but proceeds directly\nfrom the will to live as its concentration. It is accordingly to be\nreckoned among instinctive actions. For in reproduction the brute is just\nas little guided by knowledge of the end as in mechanical instincts; in\nthese also the will manifests itself, in the main, without the mediation\nof knowledge, which here, as there, is only concerned with details.\nReproduction is, to a certain extent, the most marvellous of all\ninstincts, and its work the most astonishing.\n\nThese considerations explain why the sexual desire has a very different\ncharacter from every other; it is not only the strongest, but even\nspecifically of a more powerful kind than any other. It is everywhere\ntacitly assumed as necessary and inevitable, and is not, like other\ndesires, a matter of taste and disposition. For it is the desire which\neven constitutes the nature of man. In conflict with it no motive is so\nstrong that it would be certain of victory. It is so pre\u2010eminently the\nchief concern that no other pleasures make up for the deprivation of its\nsatisfaction; and, moreover, for its sake both brute and man undertake\nevery danger and every conflict. A very na\u00efve expression of this\ndisposition is the well\u2010known inscription on the door of the _fornix_ at\nPompeii, decorated with the phallus: \u201c_Heic habitat felicitas_:\u201d this was\nfor those going in na\u00efve, for those coming out ironical, and in itself\nhumorous. On the other hand, the excessive power of the sexual passion is\nseriously and worthily expressed in the inscription which (according to\nTheon of Smyrna, _De Musica_, c. 47), Osiris had placed upon the column he\nerected to the eternal gods: \u201cTo Eros, the spirit, the heaven, the sun,\nthe moon, the earth, the night, the day, and the father of all that is and\nthat shall be;\u201d also in the beautiful apostrophe with which Lucretius\nbegins his work:\n\n\n    \u201c_\u00c6neadum genetrix, hominum divomque voluptas,_\n    _Alma Venus cet._\u201d\n\n\nTo all this corresponds the important _r\u00f4le_ which the relation of the\nsexes plays in the world of men, where it is really the invisible central\npoint of all action and conduct, and peeps out everywhere in spite of all\nveils thrown over it. It is the cause of war and the end of peace, the\nbasis of what is serious, and the aim of the jest, the inexhaustible\nsource of wit, the key to all allusions, and the meaning of all mysterious\nhints, of all unspoken offers and all stolen glances, the daily meditation\nof the young, and often also of the old, the hourly thought of the\nunchaste, and even against their will the constantly recurring imagination\nof the chaste, the ever ready material of a joke, just because the\nprofoundest seriousness lies at its foundation. It is, however, the\npiquant element and the joke of life that the chief concern of all men is\nsecretly pursued and ostensibly ignored as much as possible. But, in fact,\nwe see it every moment seat itself, as the true and hereditary lord of the\nworld, out of the fulness of its own strength, upon the ancestral throne,\nand looking down from thence with scornful glances, laugh at the\npreparations which have been made to bind it, imprison it, or at least to\nlimit it and wherever it is possible to keep it concealed, or even so to\nmaster it that it shall only appear as a subordinate, secondary concern of\nlife. But all this agrees with the fact that the sexual passion is the\nkernel of the will to live, and consequently the concentration of all\ndesire; therefore in the text I have called the genital organs the focus\nof the will. Indeed, one may say man is concrete sexual desire; for his\norigin is an act of copulation and his wish of wishes is an act of\ncopulation, and this tendency alone perpetuates and holds together his\nwhole phenomenal existence. The will to live manifests itself indeed\nprimarily as an effort to sustain the individual; yet this is only a step\nto the effort to sustain the species, and the latter endeavour must be\nmore powerful in proportion as the life of the species surpasses that of\nthe individual in duration, extension, and value. Therefore sexual passion\nis the most perfect manifestation of the will to live, its most distinctly\nexpressed type; and the origin of the individual in it, and its primacy\nover all other desires of the natural man, are both in complete agreement\nwith this.\n\nOne other remark of a physiological nature is in place here, a remark\nwhich throws light upon my fundamental doctrine expounded in the second\nbook. As the sexual impulse is the most vehement of desires, the wish of\nwishes, the concentration of all our volition, and accordingly the\nsatisfaction of it which exactly corresponds to the individual wish of any\none, that is, the desire fixed upon a definite individual, is the summit\nand crown of his happiness, the ultimate goal of his natural endeavours,\nwith the attainment of which everything seems to him to have been\nattained, and with the frustrating of which everything seems to him to\nhave been lost:\u2014so we find, as its physiological correlative, in the\nobjectified will, thus in the human organism, the sperm or semen as the\nsecretion of secretions, the quintessence of all animal fluids, the last\nresult of all organic functions, and have in it a new proof of the fact\nthat the body is only the objectivity of the will, _i.e._, is the will\nitself under the form of the idea.\n\nWith reproduction is connected the maintenance of the offspring, and with\nthe sexual impulse, parental love; and thus through these the life of the\nspecies is carried on. Accordingly the love of the brute for its young\nhas, like the sexual impulse, a strength which far surpasses that of the\nefforts which merely concerns itself as an individual. This shows itself\nin the fact that even the mildest animals are ready to undertake for the\nsake of their young even the most unequal battle for life and death, and\nwith almost all species of animals the mother encounters any danger for\nthe protection of her young, nay, in many cases even faces certain death.\nIn the case of man this instinctive parental love is guided and directed\nby reason, _i.e._, by reflection. Sometimes, however, it is also in this\nway restricted, and with bad characters this may extend to the complete\nrepudiation of it. Therefore we can observe its effects most purely in the\nlower animals. In itself, however, it is not less strong in man; here\nalso, in particular cases, we see it entirely overcome self\u2010love, and even\nextend to the sacrifice of life. Thus, for example, the French newspapers\nhave just announced that at Cahors, in the department of Lot, a father has\ntaken his own life in order that his son, who had been drawn for military\nservice, should be the eldest son of a widow, and therefore exempt\n(_Galignani\u2019s Messenger_ of 22d June 1843). Yet in the case of the lower\nanimals, since they are capable of no reflection, the instinctive maternal\naffection (the male is generally ignorant of his paternity) shows itself\ndirectly and unsophisticated, and therefore with perfect distinctness and\nin its whole strength. At bottom it is the expression of the consciousness\nin the brute that its true being lies more immediately in the species than\nin the individual, and therefore, when necessary, it sacrifices its life\nthat the species may be maintained in the young. Thus here, as also in the\nsexual impulse, the will to live becomes to a certain extent transcendent,\nfor its consciousness extends beyond the individual, in which it is\ninherent, to the species. In order to avoid expressing this second\nmanifestation of the life of the species in a merely abstract manner, and\nto present it to the reader in its magnitude and reality, I will give a\nfew examples of the extraordinary strength of instinctive maternal\naffection.\n\nThe sea\u2010otter, when pursued, seizes its young one and dives with it; when\nit comes up again to take breath, it covers the young one with its body,\nand receives the harpoon of the hunter while the young one is escaping. A\nyoung whale is killed merely to attract the mother, who hurries to it and\nseldom forsakes it so long as it still lives, even although she is struck\nwith several harpoons (Scoresby\u2019s \u201cJournal of a Whaling Voyage;\u201d from the\nEnglish of Kreis, p. 196). At Three Kings Island, near New Zealand, there\nare colossal seals called sea\u2010elephants (_phoca proboscidea_). They swim\nround the island in regular herds and feed upon fishes, but yet have\ncertain terrible enemies below water unknown to us, by whom they are often\nseverely wounded; hence their swimming together requires special tactics.\nThe females bring forth their young upon the shore; while they are\nsuckling them, which lasts from seven to eight weeks, all the males form a\ncircle round them in order to prevent them, driven by hunger, from\nentering the sea, and if this is attempted they prevent it by biting. Thus\nthey all fast together for between seven and eight weeks, and all become\nvery thin, simply in order that the young may not enter the sea before\nthey are able to swim well and observe the necessary tactics which are\nthen taught them with blows and bites (Freycinet, _Voy. aux terres\nAustrales_, 1826). We also see here how parental affection, like every\nstrong exertion of the will (_cf._ chap. xix. 6), heightens the\nintelligence. Wild ducks, white\u2010throats, and many other birds, when the\nsportsman comes near their nest, fly in front of him with loud cries and\nflap about as if their wings were injured, in order to attract his\nattention from their young to themselves. The lark tries to entice the dog\naway from its nest by exposing itself. In the same way hinds and does\ninduce the hunter to pursue them in order that their young may not be\nattacked. Swallows have flown into burning houses to rescue their young or\nperish with them. At Delft, in a great fire, a stork allowed itself to be\nburnt in its nest rather than forsake its tender young, which could not\nyet fly (Hadr. Junius, _Descriptio Hollandi\u00e6_). Mountain\u2010cocks and\nwoodcocks allow themselves to be taken upon the nest when brooding.\n_Muscicapa tyrannus_ protects its nest with remarkable courage, and\ndefends itself against eagles. An ant has been cut in two, and the fore\nhalf been seen to bring the pup\u00e6 to a place of safety. A bitch whose\nlitter had been cut out of her belly crept up to them dying, caressed\nthem, and began to whine violently only when they were taken from her\n(Burdach, _Physiologie als Erfahrungswissenschaft_, vol. ii. and iii.).\n\n\n\n\nChapter XLIII. On Heredity.\n\n\nThe most ordinary experience teaches that in generation the combined seed\nof the parents not only propagates the peculiarities of the species, but\nalso those of the individual, as far as bodily (objective, external)\nqualities are concerned, and this has also always been recognised\u2014\n\n\n    \u201c_Natur\u00e6 sequitur semina quisque su\u00e6._\u201d\n\n    \u2014CATULL.\n\n\nNow whether this also holds good of mental (subjective, internal)\nqualities, so that these also are transmitted by the parents to the\nchildren, is a question which has already often been raised, and almost\nalways answered in the affirmative. More difficult, however, is the\nproblem whether it is possible to distinguish what belongs to the father\nand what to the mother, thus what is the mental inheritance which we\nreceive from each of our parents. If now we cast upon this problem the\nlight of our fundamental knowledge that the will is the true being, the\nkernel, the radical element in man, and the intellect, on the other hand,\nis what is secondary, adventitious, the accident of that substance; before\nquestioning experience we will assume it as at least probable that the\nfather, as _sexus potior_ and the procreative principle, imparts the\nbasis, the radical element, of the new life, thus the _will_, and the\nmother, as _sexus sequior_ and merely conceiving principle, imparts the\nsecondary element, the _intellect_; that thus the man inherits his moral\nnature, his character, his inclinations, his heart, from the father, and,\non the other hand, the grade, quality, and tendency of his intelligence\nfrom the mother. Now this assumption actually finds its confirmation in\nexperience; only this cannot be decided by a physical experiment upon the\ntable, but results partly from the careful and acute observation of many\nyears, and partly from history.\n\nOne\u2019s own experience has the advantage of complete certainty and the\ngreatest speciality, and this outweighs the disadvantage that arises from\nit, that its sphere is limited and its examples not generally known.\nTherefore, primarily, I refer every one to his own experience. First of\nall let him consider himself, confess to himself his inclinations and\npassions, his characteristic errors and weaknesses, his vices, and also\nhis excellences and virtues, if he has any. Then let him think of his\nfather, and he cannot fail to recognise all these characteristic traits in\nhim also. On the other hand, he will often find his mother of an entirely\ndifferent character, and a moral agreement with her will very seldom\noccur, indeed only through the exceptional accident of a similarity of the\ncharacter of the two parents. Let him make this examination, for example,\nwith reference to quick temper or patience, avarice or prodigality,\ninclination to sensuality, or to intemperance, or to gambling, hard\u2010\nheartedness or kindliness, honesty or hypocrisy, pride or condescension,\ncourage or cowardice, peaceableness or quarrelsomeness, placability or\nresentfulness, &c. Then let him make the same investigation with regard to\nall those whose characters and whose parents he has accurately known. If\nhe proceeds attentively, with correct judgment, and candidly, the\nconfirmation of our principle will not be lacking. Thus, for example, he\nwill find the special tendency to lie, which belongs to many men, equally\npresent in two brothers, because they have inherited it from the father;\non this account also the comedy, \u201cThe Liar and his Son,\u201d is\npsychologically correct. However, two inevitable limitations must here be\nborne in mind, which only open injustice could interpret as evasions.\nFirst, _pater semper incertus_. Only a decided physical resemblance to the\nfather removes this limitation; a superficial resemblance, on the other\nhand, is not sufficient to do so; for there is an after\u2010effect of earlier\nimpregnation by virtue of which the children of the second marriage have\nsometimes still a slight resemblance to the first husband, and children\nbegotten in adultery to the legitimate father. Such an after\u2010effect has\nbeen still more distinctly observed in the case of brutes. The second\nlimitation is, that in the son the moral character of the father certainly\nappears, yet under the modification which it has received through another\nand often very different _intellect_ (the inheritance from the mother),\nand thus a correction of the observation becomes necessary. This\nmodification may be important or trifling in proportion to that\ndifference, but it can never be so great that the fundamental traits of\nthe paternal character do not always appear under it recognisably enough,\nlike a man who has disguised himself by an entirely different kind of\ndress, wig, and beard. For example, if by inheritance from the mother a\nman is pre\u2010eminently endowed with reason, thus with the power of\nreflection and deliberation, the passions inherited from his father are\npartly bridled by this, partly concealed, and accordingly only attain to a\nmethodical, systematic, or secret manifestation, and thus a very different\nphenomenon from that of the father, who perhaps had only a very limited\nmind, will then result; and in the same way the converse case may occur.\nThe inclinations and passions of the mother, on the other hand, do not\nreappear at all in the children, often indeed their opposite.\n\nHistorical examples have the advantage over those of private life of being\nuniversally known; but, on the other hand, they are of course impaired by\nthe uncertainty and frequent falsification of all tradition, and\nespecially also by the fact that as a rule they only contain the public,\nnot the private life, and consequently only the political actions, not the\nfiner manifestations of character. However, I wish to support the truth we\nare speaking of by a few historical examples, to which those who have made\na special study of history can no doubt add a far larger number of equally\npertinent cases.\n\nIt is well known that P. Decius Mus sacrificed his life for his country\nwith heroic nobleness; for, solemnly committing himself and the enemy to\nthe infernal deities, with covered face he plunged into the army of the\nLatins. About forty years later his son, of the same name, did exactly the\nsame thing in the war against the Gauls (Liv. viii. 6; x. 28). Thus a\nthorough proof of the Horatian _fortes creantur fortibus et bonis_: the\nconverse of which is thus given by Shakspeare\u2014\n\n\n    \u201cCowards father cowards, and base things sire base.\u201d\n\n    \u2014CYMBELINE, iv. 2.\n\n\nEarly Roman history presents to us whole families whose members in long\nsuccession distinguished themselves by devoted patriotism and courage;\nsuch were the _gens Fabia_ and the _gens Fabricia_. Again, Alexander the\nGreat was fond of power and conquest, like his father Philip. The pedigree\nof Nero which, with a moral intention, Suetonius (c. 4 _et_ 5) gives at\nthe beginning of his sketch of this monster is very well worth\nconsidering. It is the _gens Claudia_ he describes, which flourished in\nRome through six centuries, and produced not only capable, but arrogant\nand cruel men. From it sprang Tiberius, Caligula, and finally Nero. In his\ngrandfather, and still more strongly in his father, all those atrocious\nqualities show themselves, which could only attain their perfect\ndevelopment in Nero, partly because his higher position afforded them\nfreer scope, partly because he had for his mother the irrational\nBacchante, Agrippina, who could impart to him no intellect to bridle his\npassions. Quite in our sense, therefore, Suetonius relates that at his\nbirth _pr\u00e6sagio fuit etiam Domitii, patris, vox, inter gratulationes\namicorum, negantis, quidquam ex se __ et Agrippina, nisi detestabile et\nmalo publico nasci potuisse_. On the other hand, Cimon was the son of\nMiltiades, and Hannibal of Hamilcar, and the Scipios make up a whole\nfamily of heroes and noble defenders of their country. But the son of Pope\nAlexander VI. was his hideous image, C\u00e6sar Borgia. The son of the\nnotorious Duke of Alba was just as cruel and wicked a man as his father.\nThe malicious and unjust Philip IV. of France, who is specially known by\nhis cruel torture and execution of the knights templars, had for his\ndaughter Isabella, wife of Edward II. of England, who rebelled against her\nhusband, took him prisoner, and after he had signed his abdication, since\nthe attempt to kill him by ill\u2010usage was unsuccessful, caused him to be\nput to death in prison in a manner which is too horrible for me to care to\nrelate. The blood\u2010thirsty tyrant and _defensor fidei_, Henry VIII. of\nEngland had a daughter by his first marriage, Queen Mary, equally\ndistinguished for bigotry and cruelty, who from her numerous burnings of\nheretics has won the name of Bloody Mary. His daughter by his second\nmarriage, Elizabeth, received an excellent understanding from her mother,\nAnne Boleyn, which prevented bigotry and curbed the parental character in\nher, yet did not do away with it; so that it still always shone through on\noccasions, and distinctly appeared in her cruel treatment of Mary of\nScotland. Van Geuns(35) tells a story, after Marcus Donatus, of a Scotch\ngirl whose father had been burnt as a highway robber and a cannibal when\nshe was only one year old. Although she was brought up among quite\ndifferent people, there developed in her the same craving for human flesh,\nand being caught in the act of satisfying it, she was buried alive. In the\n_Freim\u00fcthigen_ of the 13th July 1821 we read that in the department of\nAube the police pursued a girl because she had murdered two children, whom\nshe ought to have taken to the foundling hospital, in order to keep the\nlittle money given to the children. At last the police found the girl on\nthe road to Paris, near Romilly, drowned, and her own father gave himself\nup as her murderer. Finally, let me mention a couple of cases which have\noccurred recently, and have therefore only the newspapers as their\nvouchers. In October 1836 a Count Belecznai was condemned to death in\nHungary because he had murdered an official and severely wounded his own\nrelations. His elder brother was executed earlier as a patricide, and his\nfather also had been a murderer (_Frankfurter Postzeitung_ of the 26th\nOctober 1836). A year later the youngest brother of this Count, in the\nsame street where the latter had murdered the official, fired a pistol at\nthe steward of his estates, but missed him (_Frankfurter Journal_, 16th\nSeptember 1837). In the _Frankfurter Postzeitung_ of the 19th November\n1857 a correspondent in Paris announces the condemnation to death of a\nvery dangerous highway robber, Lemaire, and his companions, and adds: \u201cThe\ncriminal tendency seems hereditary in his family and in those of his\nconfederates, as several of their race have died on the scaffold.\u201d It\nfollows from a passage in the Laws of Plato that similar cases were\nalready known in Greece (_Stob. Flor._, vol. ii. p. 213). The annals of\ncrime will certainly have many similar pedigrees to show. The tendency to\nsuicide is specially hereditary.\n\nOn the other hand, when we see the excellent Marcus Aurelius have the\nwicked Commodus for a son, this does not not lead us astray; for we know\nthat the _Diva Faustina_ was a _uxor infamis_. On the contrary, we mark\nthis case in order in analogous cases to presume an analogous reason; for\nexample, that Domitian was the full brother of Titus I can never believe,\nbut that Vespasian also was a deceived husband.\n\nNow, as regards the second part of the principle set up thus the\ninheritance of the intellect from the mother, this enjoys a far more\ngeneral acceptance than the first part, which in itself appeals to the\n_liberum arbitrium indifferenti\u00e6_, while its separate apprehension is\nopposed by the doctrine of the simplicity and indivisibility of the soul.\nEven the old and popular expression \u201cmother\u2010wit\u201d shows the early\nrecognition of this second truth, which depends upon the experience both\nwith regard to small and great intellectual endowments, that they are the\npossession of those whose mothers proportionately distinguished themselves\nby their intelligence. That, on the other hand, the intellectual qualities\nof the father are not transmitted to the son is proved both by the fathers\nand the sons of men distinguished by the most eminent faculties, for, as a\nrule, they are quite ordinary men, without a trace of the paternal mental\ngifts. But if now an isolated exception to this experience, so often\nconfirmed, should appear; such, for example, as is presented by Pitt and\nhis father, Lord Chatham, we are warranted in ascribing it to accident,\nnay, obliged to do so, although, on account of the exceptional rarity of\ngreat talents, it is certainly an accident of a most extraordinary kind.\nHere, however, the rule holds good: it is improbable that the improbable\n_never_ happens. Besides, great statesmen (as was already mentioned in\nchapter 22) are so just as much through the qualities of their character,\nthus through what is inherited from the father, as through the superiority\nof their mind. On the other hand, among artists, poets, and philosophers,\nto whose works alone _genius_ is properly ascribed, I know of no case\nanalogous to that. Raphael\u2019s father was certainly a painter, but not a\ngreat one; Mozart\u2019s father, and also his son, were musicians, but not\ngreat ones. However, it is indeed wonderful that the fate which had\ndestined a very short life to both of these men, each the greatest in his\nown sphere, as it were by way of compensation, took care, by letting them\nbe born already in their workshop, that, without suffering the loss of\ntime in youth which for the most part occurs in the case of other men of\ngenius, they received even from childhood, through paternal example and\ninstruction, the necessary introduction into the art to which they were\nexclusively destined. This secret and mysterious power which seems to\nguide the individual life I have made the subject of special\ninvestigations, which I have communicated in the essay, \u201c_Ueber die\nscheinbare Absichtlichkeit im Schicksale des Einzelnen_\u201d (_Parerga_, vol.\ni.). It is further to be observed here that there are certain scientific\noccupations which certainly presuppose good native faculties, yet not\nthose which are really rare and extraordinary; while the principal\nrequirements are zealous efforts, diligence, patience, early instruction,\nsustained study, and much practice. From this, and not from the\ninheritance of the intellect of the father, the fact is to be explained\nthat, since the son always willingly follows the path that has been opened\nup by the father, and almost all businesses are hereditary in certain\nfamilies, in some sciences also, which before everything demand diligence\nand persistence, individual families can show a succession of men of\nmerit; such are the Scaligers, the Bernouillis, the Cassinis, the\nHerschels.\n\nThe number of proofs of the actual inheritance of the intellect of the\nmother would be much greater than it appears if it were not that the\ncharacter and disposition of the female sex is such that women rarely give\npublic proof of their mental faculties; and therefore these do not become\nhistorical, and thus known to posterity. Besides, on account of the weaker\nnature in general of the female sex, these faculties themselves can never\nreach the grade in them to which they may afterwards rise in the son;\nthus, with reference to themselves, we have to estimate their achievements\nhigher in this proportion. Accordingly, in the first instance, only the\nfollowing examples present themselves as proofs of our truth. Joseph II.\nwas the son of Maria Theresia. Cardanus says in the third chapter, \u201c_De\nvita propria_:\u201d \u201c_Mater mea fuit memoria et ingenio pollens_.\u201d J. J.\nRousseau says in the first book of the \u201cConfessions:\u201d \u201c_La beaut\u00e9 de ma\nm\u00e8re, son __ esprit, ses talents,\u2014elle en avait de trop brillans pour son\n\u00e9tat_,\u201d &c., and then quotes some delightful lines of hers. D\u2019Alembert was\nthe illegitimate son of Claudine de Tencin, a woman of superior mind, and\nthe author of several romances and similar works, which met with great\napprobation in her day, and should even still be enjoyable (see her\nbiography in the \u201c_Bl\u00e4tter f\u00fcr litterarische Unterhaltung_,\u201d March 1845,\nNos. 71\u201073). That Buffon\u2019s mother was a remarkable woman is shown by the\nfollowing passage from the \u201c_Voyage \u00e0 Montbar, par H\u00e9rault de Sechelles_,\u201d\nwhich Flourens quotes in his \u201c_Histoire des travaux de Buffon_,\u201d p. 288:\n\u201c_Buffon avait ce principe qu\u2019en g\u00e9n\u00e9ral les enfants tenaient de leur m\u00e8re\nleurs qualit\u00e9s intellectuelles et morales: et lorsqu\u2019il l\u2019avait d\u00e9velopp\u00e9\ndans la conversation, il en faisait sur\u2010le\u2010champ l\u2019application \u00e0 lui\u2010m\u00eame,\nen faisant un \u00e9loge pompeux de sa m\u00e8re, qui avait en effet, beaucoup\nd\u2019esprit, des connaissances \u00e9tandues, et une t\u00eate tr\u00e8s bien organis\u00e9e._\u201d\nThat he includes the moral qualities is an error which is either committed\nby the reporter, or depends upon the fact that his mother had accidentally\nthe same character as himself and his father. The contrary of this is\nshown in innumerable cases in which the mother and the son have opposite\ncharacters. Hence the greatest dramatists could present, in Orestes and\nHamlet, mother and son in hostile conflict, in which the son appears as\nthe moral representative and avenger of his father. On the other hand, the\nconverse case, that the son should appear as the moral representative and\navenger of the mother against the father, would be revolting and, at the\nsame time, almost absurd. This depends upon the fact that between father\nand son there is actual identity of nature, which is the will, but between\nmother and son there is merely identity of intellect, and even this only\nin a conditioned manner. Between mother and son the greatest moral\nopposition can exist, between father and son only an intellectual\nopposition. From this point of view, also, one should recognise the\nnecessity of the Salic law: the woman cannot carry on the race. Hume says\nin his short autobiography: \u201cOur mother was a woman of singular merit.\u201d It\nis said of Kant\u2019s mother in the most recent biography by F. W. Schubert:\n\u201cAccording to the judgment of her son himself, she was a woman of great\nnatural understanding. For that time, when there was so little opportunity\nfor the education of girls, she was exceptionally well instructed, and she\nalso continued later to care for her further education by herself. In the\ncourse of walks she drew the attention of her son to all kinds of natural\nphenomena, and tried to explain to him through them the power of God.\u201d\nWhat a remarkably able, clever, and superior woman Goethe\u2019s mother was is\nnow universally known. How much she has been spoken of in literature!\nwhile his father has not been spoken of at all; Goethe himself describes\nhim as a man of subordinate faculties. Schiller\u2019s mother was susceptible\nto poetry, and made verses herself, a fragment of which will be found in\nhis biography by Schwab. B\u00fcrger, that genuine poetic genius, to whom\nperhaps the first place after Goethe among German poets belongs\u2014for\ncompared with his ballads those of Schiller seem cold and laboured\u2014has\ngiven an account of his parents which for us is significant, and which his\nfriend and physician, Althof repeats in his biography which appeared in\n1798, in these words: \u201cB\u00fcrger\u2019s father was certainly provided with a\nvariety of knowledge after the manner of study prevalent at the time, and\nwas also a good, honourable man; but he loved his quiet comfort and his\npipe of tobacco so much, that, as my friend used to say, he had always\nfirst to pull himself together if he was going to apply himself for a\nquarter of an hour or so to the instruction of his son. His wife was a\nwoman of extraordinary mental endowments, which, however, were so little\ncultivated that she had scarcely learnt to write legibly. B\u00fcrger thought\nthat with proper culture his mother would have been the most famous of her\nsex, although he several times expressed a strong disapproval of different\ntraits of her moral character. However, he believed that he inherited from\nhis mother some mental gifts, and from his father an agreement with his\nmoral character.\u201d Walter Scott\u2019s mother was a poetess, and was in\ncommunication with the wits of her time, as we learn from the obituary\nnotice of Walter Scott in the _Globe_ of 24th September 1832. That poems\nof hers appeared in print in 1789 I find from an article entitled \u201cMother\u2010\nwit,\u201d in the _Bl\u00e4tter f\u00fcr litterarische Unterhaltung_ of 4th October 1841,\npublished by Brockhaus, which gives a long list of clever mothers of\ndistinguished men, from which I shall only take two: \u201cBacon\u2019s mother was a\ndistinguished linguist, wrote and translated several works, and in all of\nthem showed learning, acuteness, and taste. Boerhave\u2019s mother\ndistinguished herself through medical knowledge.\u201d On the other hand,\nHaller has preserved for us a strong proof of the inheritance of the\nmental weakness of the mother, for he says: \u201c_E duabus patriciis\nsororibus, ob divitias maritos nactis, quum tamen fatuis essent proxim\u00e6,\nnovimus in nobilissimas gentes nunc a seculo retro ejus morbi manasse\nsemina, ut etiam in quarta generatione, quintave, omnium posterorum aliqui\nfatui supersint_\u201d (_Elementa physiol._, Lib. xxix. \u00a7 8). Also, according\nto Esquirol, madness is more frequently inherited from the mother than the\nfather. If, however, it is inherited from the father, I attribute this to\nthe disposition of the character whose influence occasions it.\n\nIt seems to follow from our principle that sons of the same mother have\nequal mental capacity, and if one should be highly gifted the other must\nbe so also. Sometimes it is so. Examples of this are the Carracci, Joseph\nand Michael Haydn, Bernard and Andreas Romberg, George and Frederic\nCuvier. I would also add the brothers Schlegel, if it were not that the\nyounger, Friedrich, made himself unworthy of the honour of being named\nalong with his excellent, blameless, and highly distinguished brother,\nAugust Wilhelm, by the disgraceful obscurantism which in the last quarter\nof his life he pursued along with Adam M\u00fcller. For obscurantism is a sin,\npossibly not against the Holy Spirit, but yet against the human spirit,\nwhich one ought therefore never to forgive, but always and everywhere\nimplacably to remember against whoever has been guilty of it, and take\nevery opportunity of showing contempt for him so long as he lives, nay,\nafter he is dead. But just as often the above result does not take place;\nfor example, Kant\u2019s brother was quite an ordinary man. To explain this I\nmust remind the reader of what is said in the thirty\u2010first chapter on the\nphysiological conditions of genius. Not only an extraordinarily developed\nand absolutely correctly formed brain (the share of the mother) is\nrequired, but also a very energetic action of the heart to animate it,\n_i.e._, subjectively a passionate will, a lively temperament: this is the\ninheritance from the father. But this quality is at its height only during\nthe father\u2019s strongest years; and the mother ages still more quickly.\nAccordingly the highly gifted sons will, as a rule, be the eldest,\nbegotten in the full strength of both parents; thus Kant\u2019s brother was\neleven years younger than him. Even in the case of two distinguished\nbrothers, as a rule, the elder will be the superior. But not only the age,\nbut every temporary ebb of the vital force or other disturbance of health\nin the parents at the time when the child is begotten may interfere with\nthe part of one or other, and prevent the appearance of a man of eminent\ntalent, which is therefore so exceedingly rare a phenomenon. It may be\nsaid, in passing, that in the case of twins the absence of all the\ndifferences just mentioned is the cause of the quasi\u2010identity of their\nnature.\n\nIf single cases should be found in which a highly gifted son had a mother\nwho was not mentally distinguished at all, this may be explained from the\nfact that this mother herself had a phlegmatic father, and on this account\nher more than ordinarily developed brain was not adequately excited by a\ncorresponding energy of the circulation\u2014a necessary condition, as I have\nexplained above in chapter 31. Nevertheless, her highly perfected nervous\nand cerebral system was transmitted to the son, in whose case a father\nwith a lively and passionate disposition and an energetic action of the\nheart was added, and thus the other physical condition of great mental\npower first appeared here. Perhaps this was Byron\u2019s case, since we nowhere\nfind the mental advantages of his mother mentioned. The same explanation\nis also to be applied to the case in which the mother of a son of genius\nwho was herself distinguished for mental gifts had a mother who was by no\nmeans clever, for the father of the latter has been a man of a phlegmatic\ndisposition.\n\nThe inharmonious, disproportionate, ambiguous element in the character of\nmost men might perhaps be referred to the fact that the individual has not\na simple origin, but derives the will from the father and the intellect\nfrom the mother. The more heterogeneous and ill\u2010adapted to each other the\ntwo parents were, the greater will that want of harmony, that inner\nvariance, be. While some excel through their heart and others through\ntheir head, there are still others whose excellence lies in a certain\nharmony and unity of the whole nature, which arises from the fact that in\nthem heart and head are so thoroughly adapted that they mutually support\nand advance each other; which leads us to assume that the parents were\npeculiarly suited to each other, and agreed in an exceptional measure.\n\nWith reference to the physiological side of the theory set forth, I wish\nnow to mention that Burdach, who erroneously assumes that the same\npsychical qualities may be inherited now from the father, now from the\nmother, yet adds (_Physiologie als Erfahrungswissenschaft_, vol. i. \u00a7\n306): \u201cAs a whole, the male element has more influence in determining the\nirritable life, and the female element, on the other hand, has more\ninfluence on the sensibility.\u201d What Linn\u00e9 says in the \u201c_Systema natur\u00e6_,\u201d\nTom. i. p. 8, is also in point here: \u201c_Mater prolifera promit, ante\ngenerationem, __ vivum compendium medullare novi animalis suique\nsimillimi, carinam Malpighianam dictum, tanquam plumulam vegetabilium: hoc\nex genitura Cor adsociat ramificandum in corpus. Punctum emin saliens ovi\nincubantis avis ostendit primum cor micans, cerebrumque cum medulla:\ncorculum hoc, cessans a frigore, excitatur calido halitu, premitque bulla\na\u00ebrea, sensim dilatata, liquores, secundum canales fluxiles. Punctum\nvitalitatis itaque in viventibus est tanquam a prima creatione continuata\nmedullaris vit\u00e6 ramificatio, cum ovum sit gemma medullaris matris a\nprimordio viva, licet non sua ante proprium cor paternum._\u201d\n\nIf we now connect the conviction we have gained here of the inheritance of\nthe character from the father and the intellect from the mother with our\nearlier investigation of the wide gulf which nature has placed between man\nand man in a moral as in an intellectual regard, and also with our\nknowledge of the absolute unalterableness both of the character and of the\nmental faculties, we shall be led to the view that a real and thorough\nimprovement of the human race might be attained to not so much from\nwithout as from within, thus not so much by instruction and culture as\nrather upon the path of generation. Plato had already something of the\nkind in his mind when in the fifth book of his Republic he set forth his\nwonderful plan for increasing and improving his class of warriors. If we\ncould castrate all scoundrels, and shut up all stupid geese in\nmonasteries, and give persons of noble character a whole harem, and\nprovide men, and indeed complete men, for all maidens of mind and\nunderstanding, a generation would soon arise which would produce a better\nage than that of Pericles. But, without entering into such utopian plans,\nit might be taken into consideration that if, as, if I am not mistaken,\nwas actually the case among certain ancient nations, castration was the\nseverest punishment after death, the world would be delivered from whole\nraces of scoundrels, all the more certainly as it is well known that most\ncrimes are committed between the age of twenty and thirty.(36) In the same\nway, it might be considered whether, as regards results, it would not be\nmore advantageous to give the public dowries which upon certain occasions\nhave to be distributed, not, as is now customary, to the girls who are\nsupposed to be the most virtuous, but to those who have most understanding\nand are the cleverest; especially as it is very difficult to judge as to\nvirtue, for, as it is said, only God sees the heart. The opportunities for\ndisplaying a noble character are rare, and a matter of chance; besides,\nmany a girl has a powerful support to her virtue in her plainness; on the\nother hand, as regards understanding, those who themselves are gifted with\nit can judge with great certainty after some examination. The following is\nanother practical application. In many countries, among others in South\nGermany, the bad custom prevails of women carrying burdens, often very\nconsiderable, upon the head. This must act disadvantageously upon the\nbrain, which must thereby gradually deteriorate in the female sex of the\nnation; and since from that sex the male sex receives its brain, the whole\nnation becomes ever more stupid; which in many cases is by no means\nnecessary. Accordingly by the abolition of this custom the quantum of\nintelligence in the whole nation would be increased, which would\npositively be the greatest increase of the national wealth.\n\nBut if now, leaving such practical applications to others, we return to\nour special point of view, the ethico\u2010metaphysical standpoint\u2014since we\nconnect the content of chapter 41 with that of the present chapter\u2014the\nfollowing result will present itself to us, which, with all its\ntranscendence, has yet a direct empirical support. It is the same\ncharacter, thus the same individually determined will, that lives in all\nthe descendants of one stock, from the remote ancestor to the present\nrepresentative of the family. But in each of these a different intellect\nis given with it, thus a different degree and a different kind of\nknowledge. Thus in each of these life presents itself to it from another\nside and in a different light: it receives a new fundamental view of it, a\nnew instruction. It is true that, since the intellect is extinguished with\nthe individual, that will cannot supplement the insight of one course of\nlife with that of another. But in consequence of each fundamentally new\nview of life, such as only a renewed personality can impart to it, its\nwilling itself receives a different tendency, thus experiences a\nmodification from it, and what is the chief concern, the will, has, in\nthis new direction, either to assert life anew or deny it. In this way\ndoes the arrangement of nature of an ever\u2010changing connection of a will\nwith an intellect, which arises from the necessity of two sexes for\nreproduction, become the basis of a method of salvation. For by virtue of\nthis arrangement life unceasingly presents new sides to the will (whose\nimage and mirror it is), turns itself about, as it were, without\nintermission before its sight, allows different and ever different modes\nof perception to try their effect upon it, so that upon each of these it\nmust decide for assertion or denial, both of which constantly stand open\nto it, only that, if once denial is chosen, the whole phenomenon ceases\nfor it with death. Now because, according to this, it is just the constant\nrenewal and complete alteration of the intellect for the same will which,\nas imparting a new view of the world, holds open the path of salvation,\nand because the intellect comes from the mother, the profound reason may\nlie here on account of which all nations (with very few and doubtful\nexceptions) abominate and forbid the marriage of brothers and sisters,\nnay, even on account of which sexual love does not arise at all between\nbrothers and sisters, unless in very rare exceptions, which depend upon an\nunnatural perversity of the instinct, if not upon the fact that one of the\ntwo is illegitimate. For from a marriage of brothers and sisters nothing\ncould proceed but constantly ever the same will with the same intellect,\nas both already exist united in both the parents, thus the hopeless\nrepetition of the phenomenon which has already been.\n\nBut if now, in the particular case and close at hand, we contemplate the\nincredibly great and yet manifest difference of characters\u2014find one so\ngood and philanthropic, another so wicked, nay, ferocious; again, behold\none just, honest, and upright, and another completely false, as a sneak, a\nswindler, a traitor, an incorrigible scoundrel\u2014there discloses itself to\nus a chasm in our investigation, for in vain we ponder, reflecting on the\norigin of such a difference. Hindus and Buddhists solve the problem by\nsaying, \u201cIt is the consequence of the deeds of the preceding courses of\nlife.\u201d This solution is certainly the oldest, also the most\ncomprehensible, and has come from the wisest of mankind; but it only\npushes the question further back. Yet a more satisfactory answer will\nhardly be found. From the point of view of my whole teaching, it remains\nfor me to say that here, where we are speaking of the will as thing in\nitself, the principle of sufficient reason, as merely the form of the\nphenomenon, is no longer applicable; with it, however, all why and whence\ndisappear. Absolute freedom just consists in this, that something is not\nsubject at all to the principle of sufficient reason, as the principle of\nall necessity. Such freedom, therefore, only belongs to the thing in\nitself. And this is just the will. Accordingly, in its phenomenal\nmanifestation, consequently in the _Operari_, it is subject to necessity;\nbut in the _Esse_, where it has determined itself as thing in itself, it\nis free. Whenever, therefore, we come to this, as happens here, all\nexplanation by means of reasons and consequents ceases, and nothing\nremains for us but to say that here manifests itself the true freedom of\nthe will, which belongs to it because it is the thing in itself, which,\nhowever, just as such, is groundless, _i.e._, knows no why. But on this\naccount all understanding ceases for us here, because all our\nunderstanding depends upon the principle of sufficient reason, for it\nconsists in the mere application of that principle.\n\n\n\n\nChapter XLIV. The Metaphysics Of The Love Of The Sexes.\n\n\n    \u201cYe wise men, highly, deeply learned,\n    Who think it out and know,\n    How, when, and where do all things pair?\n    Why do they kiss and love?\n    Ye men of lofty wisdom, say\n    What happened to me then;\n    Search out and tell me where, how, when,\n    And why it happened thus.\u201d\n\n    \u2014B\u00dcRGER.\n\n\nThis chapter is the last of four whose various reciprocal relations, by\nvirtue of which, to a certain extent, they constitute a subordinate whole,\nthe attentive reader will recognise without it being needful for me to\ninterrupt my exposition by recalling them or referring to them.\n\nWe are accustomed to see poets principally occupied with describing the\nlove of the sexes. This is as a rule the chief theme of all dramatic\nworks, tragical as well as comical, romantic as well as classical, Indian\nas well as European. Not less is it the material of by far the largest\npart of lyrical and also of epic poetry, especially if we class with the\nlatter the enormous piles of romances which for centuries every year has\nproduced in all the civilised countries of Europe as regularly as the\nfruits of the earth. As regards their main contents, all these works are\nnothing else than many\u2010sided brief or lengthy descriptions of the passion\nwe are speaking of. Moreover, the most successful pictures of it\u2014such, for\nexample, as Romeo and Juliet, _La Nouvelle H\u00e9l\u00f6ise_, and _Werther_\u2014have\ngained immortal fame. Yet, when Rochefoucauld imagines that it is the same\nwith passionate love as with ghosts, of which every one speaks, but which\nno one has seen; and Lichtenberg also in his essay, \u201c_Ueber die Macht der\nLiebe_,\u201d disputes and denies the reality and naturalness of that passion,\nthey are greatly in error. For it is impossible that something which is\nforeign and contrary to human nature, thus a mere imaginary caricature,\ncould be unweariedly represented by poetic genius in all ages, and\nreceived by mankind with unaltered interest; for nothing that is\nartistically beautiful can be without truth:\u2014\n\n\n    \u201c_Rien n\u2019est beau que le vrai; le vrai seul est aimable_.\u201d\n\n    \u2014BOIL.\n\n\nCertainly, however, it is also confirmed by experience, although not by\nthe experience of every day, that that which as a rule only appears as a\nstrong yet still controllable inclination may rise under certain\ncircumstances to a passion which exceeds all others in vehemence, and\nwhich then sets aside all considerations, overcomes all obstacles with\nincredible strength and perseverance, so that for its satisfaction life is\nrisked without hesitation, nay, if that satisfaction is still withheld, is\ngiven as the price of it. Werthers and Jacopo Ortis exist not only in\nromance, but every year can show at least half a dozen of them in Europe:\n_Sed ignotis perierunt mortibus illi_; for their sorrows find no other\nchroniclers than the writers of official registers or the reporters of the\nnewspapers. Yet the readers of the police news in English and French\njournals will attest the correctness of my assertion. Still greater,\nhowever, is the number of those whom the same passion brings to the\nmadhouse. Finally, every year can show cases of the double suicide of a\npair of lovers who are opposed by outward circumstances. In such cases,\nhowever, it is inexplicable to me how those who, certain of mutual love,\nexpect to find the supremest bliss in the enjoyment of this, do not\nwithdraw themselves from all connections by taking the extremest steps,\nand endure all hardships, rather than give up with life a pleasure which\nis greater than any other they can conceive. As regards the lower grades\nof that passion, and the mere approaches to it, every one has them daily\nbefore his eyes, and, as long as he is not old, for the most part also in\nhis heart.\n\nSo then, after what has here been called to mind, no one can doubt either\nthe reality or the importance of the matter; and therefore, instead of\nwondering that a philosophy should also for once make its own this\nconstant theme of all poets, one ought rather to be surprised that a thing\nwhich plays throughout so important a part in human life has hitherto\npractically been disregarded by philosophers altogether, and lies before\nus as raw material. The one who has most concerned himself with it is\nPlato, especially in the \u201cSymposium\u201d and the \u201cPh\u00e6drus.\u201d Yet what he says\non the subject is confined to the sphere of myths, fables, and jokes, and\nalso for the most part concerns only the Greek love of youths. The little\nthat Rousseau says upon our theme in the \u201c_Discours sur l\u2019in\u00e9galit\u00e9_\u201d (p.\n96, ed. Bip.) is false and insufficient. Kant\u2019s explanation of the subject\nin the third part of the essay, \u201c_Ueber das Gef\u00fchl des Sch\u00f6nen und\nErhabenen_\u201d (p. 435 _seq._ of Rosenkranz\u2019s edition), is very superficial\nand without practical knowledge, therefore it is also partly incorrect.\nLastly, Platner\u2019s treatment of the matter in his \u201cAnthropology\u201d (\u00a7 1347\n_seq._) every one will find dull and shallow. On the other hand, Spinoza\u2019s\ndefinition, on account of its excessive na\u00efvet\u00e9, deserves to be quoted for\nthe sake of amusement: \u201c_Amor est titillatio, concomitante idea caus\u00e6\nextern\u00e6_\u201d (_Eth._ iv., prop. 44, _dem._) Accordingly I have no\npredecessors either to make use of or to refute. The subject has pressed\nitself upon me objectively, and has entered of its own accord into the\nconnection of my consideration of the world. Moreover, least of all can I\nhope for approbation from those who are themselves under the power of this\npassion, and who accordingly seek to express the excess of their feelings\nin the sublimest and most ethereal images. To them my view will appear too\nphysical, too material, however metaphysical and even transcendent it may\nbe at bottom. Meanwhile let them reflect that if the object which to\u2010day\ninspires them to write madrigals and sonnets had been born eighteen years\nearlier it would scarcely have won a glance from them.\n\nFor all love, however ethereally it may bear itself, is rooted in the\nsexual impulse alone, nay, it absolutely is only a more definitely\ndetermined, specialised, and indeed in the strictest sense individualised\nsexual impulse. If now, keeping this in view, one considers the important\npart which the sexual impulse in all its degrees and nuances plays not\nonly on the stage and in novels, but also in the real world, where, next\nto the love of life, it shows itself the strongest and most powerful of\nmotives, constantly lays claim to half the powers and thoughts of the\nyounger portion of mankind, is the ultimate goal of almost all human\neffort, exerts an adverse influence on the most important events,\ninterrupts the most serious occupations every hour, sometimes embarrasses\nfor a while even the greatest minds, does not hesitate to intrude with its\ntrash interfering with the negotiations of statesmen and the\ninvestigations of men of learning, knows how to slip its love letters and\nlocks of hair even into ministerial portfolios and philosophical\nmanuscripts, and no less devises daily the most entangled and the worst\nactions, destroys the most valuable relationships, breaks the firmest\nbonds, demands the sacrifice sometimes of life or health, sometimes of\nwealth, rank, and happiness, nay, robs those who are otherwise honest of\nall conscience, makes those who have hitherto been faithful, traitors;\naccordingly, on the whole, appears as a malevolent demon that strives to\npervert, confuse, and overthrow everything;\u2014then one will be forced to\ncry, Wherefore all this noise? Wherefore the straining and storming, the\nanxiety and want? It is merely a question of every Hans finding his\nGrethe.(37) Why should such a trifle play so important a part, and\nconstantly introduce disturbance and confusion into the well\u2010regulated\nlife of man? But to the earnest investigator the spirit of truth gradually\nreveals the answer. It is no trifle that is in question here; on the\ncontrary, the importance of the matter is quite proportionate to the\nseriousness and ardour of the effort. The ultimate end of all love\naffairs, whether they are played in sock or cothurnus, is really more\nimportant than all other ends of human life, and is therefore quite worthy\nof the profound seriousness with which every one pursues it. That which is\ndecided by it is nothing less than _the composition of the next\ngeneration_. The _dramatis person\u00e6_ who shall appear when we are withdrawn\nare here determined, both as regards their existence and their nature, by\nthese frivolous love affairs. As the being, the _existentia_, of these\nfuture persons is absolutely conditioned by our sexual impulse generally,\nso their nature, _essentia_, is determined by the individual selection in\nits satisfaction, _i.e._, by sexual love, and is in every respect\nirrevocably fixed by this. This is the key of the problem: we shall arrive\nat a more accurate knowledge of it in its application if we go through the\ndegrees of love, from the passing inclination to the vehement passion,\nwhen we shall also recognise that the difference of these grades arises\nfrom the degree of the individualisation of the choice.\n\nThe collective love affairs of the present generation taken together are\naccordingly, of the whole human race, the serious _meditatio compositionis\ngenerationis futur\u00e6, e qua iterum pendent innumer\u00e6 generationes_. This\nhigh importance of the matter, in which it is not a question of individual\nweal or woe, as in all other matters, but of the existence and special\nnature of the human race in future times, and therefore the will of the\nindividual appears at a higher power as the will of the species;\u2014this it\nis on which the pathetic and sublime elements in affairs of love depend,\nwhich for thousands of years poets have never wearied of representing in\ninnumerable examples; because no theme can equal in interest this one,\nwhich stands to all others which only concern the welfare of individuals\nas the solid body to the surface, because it concerns the weal and woe of\nthe species. Just on this account, then, is it so difficult to impart\ninterest to a drama without the element of love, and, on the other hand,\nthis theme is never worn out even by daily use.\n\nThat which presents itself in the individual consciousness as sexual\nimpulse in general, without being directed towards a definite individual\nof the other sex, is in itself, and apart from the phenomenon, simply the\nwill to live. But what appears in consciousness as a sexual impulse\ndirected to a definite individual is in itself the will to live as a\ndefinitely determined individual. Now in this case the sexual impulse,\nalthough in itself a subjective need, knows how to assume very skilfully\nthe mask of an objective admiration, and thus to deceive our\nconsciousness; for nature requires this stratagem to attain its ends. But\nyet that in every case of falling in love, however objective and sublime\nthis admiration may appear, what alone is looked to is the production of\nan individual of a definite nature is primarily confirmed by the fact that\nthe essential matter is not the reciprocation of love, but possession,\n_i.e._, the physical enjoyment. The certainty of the former can therefore\nby no means console us for the want of the latter; on the contrary, in\nsuch a situation many a man has shot himself. On the other hand, persons\nwho are deeply in love, and can obtain no return of it, are contented with\npossession, _i.e._, with the physical enjoyment. This is proved by all\nforced marriages, and also by the frequent purchase of the favour of a\nwoman, in spite of her dislike, by large presents or other sacrifices,\nnay, even by cases of rape. That this particular child shall be begotten\nis, although unknown to the parties concerned, the true end of the whole\nlove story; the manner in which it is attained is a secondary\nconsideration. Now, however loudly persons of lofty and sentimental soul,\nand especially those who are in love, may cry out here about the gross\nrealism of my view, they are yet in error. For is not the definite\ndetermination of the individualities of the next generation a much higher\nand more worthy end than those exuberant feelings and super\u2010sensible soap\nbubbles of theirs? Nay, among earthly aims, can there be one which is\ngreater or more important? It alone corresponds to the profoundness with\nwhich passionate love is felt, to the seriousness with which it appears,\nand the importance which it attributes even to the trifling details of its\nsphere and occasion. Only so far as this end is assumed as the true one do\nthe difficulties encountered, the infinite exertions and annoyances made\nand endured for the attainment of the loved object, appear proportionate\nto the matter. For it is the future generation, in its whole individual\ndeterminateness, that presses into existence by means of those efforts and\ntoils. Nay, it is itself already active in that careful, definite, and\narbitrary choice for the satisfaction of the sexual impulse which we call\nlove. The growing inclination of two lovers is really already the will to\nlive of the new individual which they can and desire to produce; nay, even\nin the meeting of their longing glances its new life breaks out, and\nannounces itself as a future individuality harmoniously and well composed.\nThey feel the longing for an actual union and fusing together into a\nsingle being, in order to live on only as this; and this longing receives\nits fulfilment in the child which is produced by them, as that in which\nthe qualities transmitted by them both, fused and united in one being,\nlive on. Conversely, the mutual, decided and persistent aversion between a\nman and a maid is a sign that what they could produce would only be a\nbadly organised, in itself inharmonious and unhappy being. Hence there\nlies a deeper meaning in the fact that Calderon, though he calls the\natrocious Semiramis the daughter of the air, yet introduces her as the\ndaughter of rape followed by the murder of the husband.\n\nBut, finally, what draws two individuals of different sex exclusively to\neach other with such power is the will to live, which exhibits itself in\nthe whole species, and which here anticipates in the individual which\nthese two can produce an objectification of its nature answering to its\naims. This individual will have the will, or character, from the father,\nthe intellect from the mother, and the corporisation from both; yet, for\nthe most part, the figure will take more after the father, the size after\nthe mother,\u2014according to the law which comes out in the breeding of\nhybrids among the brutes, and principally depends upon the fact that the\nsize of the f\u0153tus must conform to the size of the uterus. Just as\ninexplicable as the quite special individuality of any man, which is\nexclusively peculiar to him, is also the quite special and individual\npassion of two lovers; indeed at bottom the two are one and the same: the\nformer is _explicite_ what the latter was _implicite_. The moment at which\nthe parents begin to love each other\u2014to fancy each other, as the very\nhappy English expression has it\u2014is really to be regarded as the first\nappearance of a new individual and the true _punctum saliens_ of its life,\nand, as has been said, in the meeting and fixing of their longing glances\nthere appears the first germ of the new being, which certainly, like all\ngerms, is generally crushed out. This new individual is to a certain\nextent a new (Platonic) Idea; and now, as all Ideas strive with the\ngreatest vehemence to enter the phenomenal world, eagerly seizing for this\nend upon the matter which the law of causality divides among them all, so\nalso does this particular Idea of a human individuality strive with the\ngreatest eagerness and vehemence towards its realisation in the\nphenomenon. This eagerness and vehemence is just the passion of the two\nfuture parents for each other. It has innumerable degrees, the two\nextremes of which may at any rate be described as \u0391\u03c6\u03c1\u03bf\u03b4\u03b9\u03c4\u03b7 \u03c0\u03b1\u03bd\u03b4\u03b7\u03bc\u03bf\u03c2 and\n\u03bf\u03c5\u03c1\u03b1\u03bd\u03b9\u03b1; in its nature, however, it is everywhere the same. On the other\nhand, it will be in degree so much the more powerful the more\n_individualised_ it is; that is, the more the loved individual is\nexclusively suited, by virtue of all his or her parts and qualities, to\nsatisfy the desire of the lover and the need established by his or her own\nindividuality. What is really in question here will become clear in the\nfurther course of our exposition. Primarily and essentially the\ninclination of love is directed to health, strength, and beauty,\nconsequently also to youth; because the will first of all seeks to exhibit\nthe specific character of the human species as the basis of all\nindividuality: ordinary amorousness (\u0391\u03c6\u03c1\u03bf\u03b4\u03b9\u03c4\u03b7 \u03c0\u03b1\u03bd\u03b4\u03b7\u03bc\u03bf\u03c2) does not go much\nfurther. To these, then, more special claims link themselves on, which we\nshall investigate in detail further on, and with which, when they see\nsatisfaction before them, the passion increases. But the highest degrees\nof this passion spring from that suitableness of two individualities to\neach other on account of which the will, _i.e._, the character, of the\nfather and the intellect of the mother, in their connection, make up\nprecisely that individual towards which the will to live in general which\nexhibits itself in the whole species feels a longing proportionate to this\nits magnitude, and which therefore exceeds the measure of a mortal heart,\nand the motives of which, in the same way, lie beyond the sphere of the\nindividual intellect. This is thus the soul of a true and great passion.\nNow the more perfect is the mutual adaptation of two individuals to each\nother in each of the many respects which have further to be considered,\nthe stronger will be their mutual passion. Since there do not exist two\nindividuals exactly alike, there must be for each particular man a\nparticular woman\u2014always with reference to what is to be produced\u2014who\ncorresponds most perfectly. A really passionate love is as rare as the\naccident of these two meeting. Since, however, the possibility of such a\nlove is present in every one, the representations of it in the works of\nthe poets are comprehensible to us. Just because the passion of love\nreally turns about that which is to be produced, and its qualities, and\nbecause its kernel lies here, a friendship without any admixture of sexual\nlove can exist between two young and good\u2010looking persons of different\nsex, on account of the agreement of their disposition, character, and\nmental tendencies; nay, as regards sexual love there may even be a certain\naversion between them. The reason of this is to be sought in the fact that\na child produced by them would have physical or mental qualities which\nwere inharmonious; in short, its existence and nature would not answer the\nends of the will to live as it exhibits itself in the species. On the\nother hand, in the case of difference of disposition, character, and\nmental tendency, and the dislike, nay, enmity, proceeding from this,\nsexual love may yet arise and exist; when it then blinds us to all that;\nand if it here leads to marriage it will be a very unhappy one.\n\nLet us now set about the more thorough investigation of the matter. Egoism\nis so deeply rooted a quality of all individuals in general, that in order\nto rouse the activity of an individual being egoistical ends are the only\nones upon which we can count with certainty. Certainly the species has an\nearlier, closer, and greater claim upon the individual than the perishable\nindividuality itself. Yet when the individual has to act, and even make\nsacrifices for the continuance and quality of the species, the importance\nof the matter cannot be made so comprehensible to his intellect, which is\ncalculated merely with regard to individual ends, as to have its\nproportionate effect. Therefore in such a case nature can only attain its\nends by implanting a certain illusion in the individual, on account of\nwhich that which is only a good for the species appears to him as a good\nfor himself, so that when he serves the species he imagines he is serving\nhimself; in which process a mere chimera, which vanishes immediately\nafterwards, floats before him, and takes the place of a real thing as a\nmotive. This illusion is instinct. In the great majority of cases this is\nto be regarded as the sense of the species, which presents what is of\nbenefit to _it_ to the will. Since, however, the will has here become\nindividual, it must be so deluded that it apprehends through the sense of\nthe individual what the sense of the species presents to it, thus imagines\nit is following individual ends while in truth it is pursuing ends which\nare merely general (taking this word in its strictest sense). The external\nphenomenon of instinct we can best observe in the brutes where its r\u00f4le is\nmost important; but it is in ourselves alone that we arrive at a knowledge\nof its internal process, as of everything internal. Now it is certainly\nsupposed that man has almost no instinct; at any rate only this, that the\nnew\u2010born babe seeks for and seizes the breast of its mother. But, in fact,\nwe have a very definite, distinct, and complicated instinct, that of the\nselection of another individual for the satisfaction of the sexual\nimpulse, a selection which is so fine, so serious, and so arbitrary. With\nthis satisfaction in itself, _i.e._, so far as it is a sensual pleasure\nresting upon a pressing want of the individual, the beauty or ugliness of\nthe other individual has nothing to do. Thus the regard for this which is\nyet pursued with such ardour, together with the careful selection which\nsprings from it, is evidently connected, not with the chooser\nhimself\u2014although he imagines it is so\u2014but with the true end, that which is\nto be produced, which is to receive the type of the species as purely and\ncorrectly as possible. Through a thousand physical accidents and moral\naberrations there arise a great variety of deteriorations of the human\nform; yet its true type, in all its parts, is always again established:\nand this takes place under the guidance of the sense of beauty, which\nalways directs the sexual impulse, and without which this sinks to the\nlevel of a disgusting necessity. Accordingly, in the first place, every\none will decidedly prefer and eagerly desire the most beautiful\nindividuals, _i.e._, those in whom the character of the species is most\npurely impressed; but, secondly, each one will specially regard as\nbeautiful in another individual those perfections which he himself lacks,\nnay, even those imperfections which are the opposite of his own. Hence,\nfor example, little men love big women, fair persons like dark, &c. &c.\nThe delusive ecstasy which seizes a man at the sight of a woman whose\nbeauty is suited to him, and pictures to him a union with her as the\nhighest good, is just the _sense of the species_, which, recognising the\ndistinctly expressed stamp of the same, desires to perpetuate it with this\nindividual. Upon this decided inclination to beauty depends the\nmaintenance of the type of the species: hence it acts with such great\npower. We shall examine specially further on the considerations which it\nfollows. Thus what guides man here is really an instinct which is directed\nto doing the best for the species, while the man himself imagines that he\nonly seeks the heightening of his own pleasure. In fact, we have in this\nan instructive lesson concerning the inner nature of all instinct, which,\nas here, almost always sets the individual in motion for the good of the\nspecies. For clearly the pains with which an insect seeks out a particular\nflower, or fruit, or dung, or flesh, or, as in the case of the\nichneumonid\u00e6, the larva of another insect, in order to deposit its eggs\nthere only, and to attain this end shrinks neither from trouble nor\ndanger, is thoroughly analogous to the pains with which for his sexual\nsatisfaction a man carefully chooses a woman with definite qualities which\nappeal to him individually, and strives so eagerly after her that in order\nto attain this end he often sacrifices his own happiness in life, contrary\nto all reason, by a foolish marriage, by love affairs which cost him\nwealth, honour, and life, even by crimes such as adultery or rape, all\nmerely in order to serve the species in the most efficient way, although\nat the cost of the individual, in accordance with the will of nature which\nis everywhere sovereign. Instinct, in fact, is always an act which seems\nto be in accordance with the conception of an end, and yet is entirely\nwithout such a conception. Nature implants it wherever the acting\nindividual is incapable of understanding the end, or would be unwilling to\npursue it. Therefore, as a rule, it is given only to the brutes, and\nindeed especially to the lowest of them which have least understanding;\nbut almost only in the case we are here considering it is also given to\nman, who certainly could understand the end, but would not pursue it with\nthe necessary ardour, that is, even at the expense of his individual\nwelfare. Thus here, as in the case of all instinct, the truth assumes the\nform of an illusion, in order to act upon the will. It is a voluptuous\nillusion which leads the man to believe he will find a greater pleasure in\nthe arms of a woman whose beauty appeals to him than in those of any\nother; or which indeed, exclusively directed to a single individual,\nfirmly convinces him that the possession of her will ensure him excessive\nhappiness. Therefore he imagines he is taking trouble and making\nsacrifices for his own pleasure, while he does so merely for the\nmaintenance of the regular type of the species, or else a quite special\nindividuality, which can only come from these parents, is to attain to\nexistence. The character of instinct is here so perfectly present, thus an\naction which seems to be in accordance with the conception of an end, and\nyet is entirely without such a conception, that he who is drawn by that\nillusion often abhors the end which alone guides it, procreation, and\nwould like to hinder it; thus it is in the case of almost all illicit love\naffairs. In accordance with the character of the matter which has been\nexplained, every lover will experience a marvellous disillusion after the\npleasure he has at last attained, and will wonder that what was so\nlongingly desired accomplishes nothing more than every other sexual\nsatisfaction; so that he does not see himself much benefited by it. That\nwish was related to all his other wishes as the species is related to the\nindividual, thus as the infinite to the finite. The satisfaction, on the\nother hand, is really only for the benefit of the species, and thus does\nnot come within the consciousness of the individual, who, inspired by the\nwill of the species, here served an end with every kind of sacrifice,\nwhich was not his own end at all. Hence, then, every lover, after the\nultimate consummation of the great work, finds himself cheated; for the\nillusion has vanished by means of which the individual was here the dupe\nof the species, Accordingly Plato very happily says: \u201c\u1f21\u03b4\u03bf\u03bd\u03b7 \u1f01\u03c0\u03b1\u03bd\u03c4\u03c9\u03bd\n\u03b1\u03bb\u03b1\u03b6\u03bf\u03bd\u03b5\u03c3\u03c4\u03b1\u03c4\u03bf\u03bd\u201d (_voluptas ommlum maxime vaniloqua_), _Phileb._ 319.\n\nBut all this reflects light on the instincts and mechanical tendencies of\nthe brutes. They also are, without doubt, involved in a kind of illusion,\nwhich deceives them with the prospect of their own pleasure, while they\nwork so laboriously and with so much self\u2010denial for the species, the bird\nbuilds its nest, the insect seeks the only suitable place for its eggs, or\neven hunts for prey which, unsuited for its own enjoyment, must be laid\nbeside the eggs as food for the future larv\u00e6, the bees, the wasps, the\nants apply themselves to their skilful dwellings and highly complicated\neconomy. They are all guided with certainty by an illusion, which conceals\nthe service of the species under the mask of an egotistical end. This is\nprobably the only way to comprehend the inner or subjective process that\nlies at the foundation of the manifestations of instinct. Outwardly,\nhowever, or objectively, we find in those creatures which are to a large\nextent governed by instinct, especially in insects, a preponderance of the\nganglion system, _i.e._, the _subjective_ nervous system, over the\nobjective or cerebral system; from which we must conclude that they are\nmoved, not so much by objective, proper apprehension as by subjective\nideas exciting desire, which arise from the influence of the ganglion\nsystem upon the brain, and accordingly by a kind of illusion; and this\nwill be the _physiological_ process in the case of all instinct. For the\nsake of illustration I will mention as another example of instinct in the\nhuman species, although a weak one, the capricious appetite of women who\nare pregnant. It seems to arise from the fact that the nourishment of the\nembryo sometimes requires a special or definite modification of the blood\nwhich flows to it, upon which the food which produces such a modification\nat once presents itself to the pregnant woman as an object of ardent\nlonging, thus here also an illusion arises. Accordingly woman has one\ninstinct more than man; and the ganglion system is also much more\ndeveloped in the woman. That man has fewer instincts than the brutes and\nthat even these few can be easily led astray, may be explained from the\ngreat preponderance of the brain in his case. The sense of beauty which\ninstinctively guides the selection for the satisfaction of sexual passion\nis led astray when it degenerates into the tendency to pederasty;\nanalogous to the fact that the blue\u2010bottle (_Musca vomitoria_), instead of\ndepositing its eggs, according to instinct, in putrefying flesh, lays them\nin the blossom of the _Arum dracunculus_, deceived by the cadaverous smell\nof this plant.\n\nNow that an instinct entirely directed to that which is to be produced\nlies at the foundation of all sexual love will receive complete\nconfirmation from the fuller analysis of it, which we cannot therefore\navoid. First of all we have to remark here that by nature man is inclined\nto inconstancy in love, woman to constancy. The love of the man sinks\nperceptibly from the moment it has obtained satisfaction; almost every\nother woman charms him more than the one he already possesses; he longs\nfor variety. The love of the woman, on the other hand, increases just from\nthat moment. This is a consequence of the aim of nature which is directed\nto the maintenance, and therefore to the greatest possible increase, of\nthe species. The man can easily beget over a hundred children a year; the\nwoman, on the contrary, with however many men, can yet only bring one\nchild a year into the world (leaving twin births out of account).\nTherefore the man always looks about after other women; the woman, again,\nsticks firmly to the one man; for nature moves her, instinctively and\nwithout reflection, to retain the nourisher and protector of the future\noffspring. Accordingly faithfulness in marriage is with the man\nartificial, with the woman it is natural, and thus adultery on the part of\nthe woman is much less pardonable than on the part of the man, both\nobjectively on account of the consequences and also subjectively on\naccount of its unnaturalness.\n\nBut in order to be thorough and gain full conviction that the pleasure in\nthe other sex, however objective it may seem to us, is yet merely\ndisguised instinct, _i.e._, sense of the species, which strives to\nmaintain its type, we must investigate more fully the considerations which\nguide us in this pleasure, and enter into the details of this, rarely as\nthese details which will have to be mentioned here may have figured in a\nphilosophical work before. These considerations divide themselves into\nthose which directly concern the type of the species, _i.e._, beauty,\nthose which are concerned with physical qualities, and lastly, those which\nare merely relative, which arise from the requisite correction or\nneutralisation of the one\u2010sided qualities and abnormities of the two\nindividuals by each other. We shall go through them one by one.\n\nThe first consideration which guides our choice and inclination is age. In\ngeneral we accept the age from the years when menstruation begins to those\nwhen it ceases, yet we give the decided preference to the period from the\neighteenth to the twenty\u2010eighth year. Outside of those years, on the other\nhand, no woman can attract us: an old woman, _i.e._, one who no longer\nmenstruates, excites our aversion. Youth without beauty has still always\nattraction; beauty without youth has none. Clearly the unconscious end\nwhich guides us here is the possibility of reproduction in general:\ntherefore every individual loses attraction for the opposite sex in\nproportion as he or she is removed from the fittest period for begetting\nor conceiving. The second consideration is that of health. Acute diseases\nonly temporarily disturb us, chronic diseases or cachexia repel us,\nbecause they are transmitted to the child. The third consideration is the\nskeleton, because it is the basis of the type of the species. Next to age\nand disease nothing repels us so much as a deformed figure; even the most\nbeautiful face cannot atone for it; on the contrary, even the ugliest face\nwhen accompanied by a straight figure is unquestionably preferred.\nFurther, we feel every disproportion of the skeleton most strongly; for\nexample, a stunted, dumpy, short\u2010boned figure, and many such; also a\nhalting gait, where it is not the result of an extraneous accident. On the\nother hand, a strikingly beautiful figure can make up for all defects: it\nenchants us. Here also comes in the great value which all attach to the\nsmallness of the feet: it depends upon the fact that they are an essential\ncharacteristic of the species, for no animal has the tarsus and the\nmetatarsus taken together so small as man, which accords with his upright\nwalk; he is a plantigrade. Accordingly Jesus Sirach also says (xxvi. 23,\naccording to the revised translation by Kraus): \u201cA woman with a straight\nfigure and beautiful feet is like columns of gold in sockets of silver.\u201d\nThe teeth also are important; because they are essential for nourishment\nand quite specially hereditary. The fourth consideration is a certain\nfulness of flesh; thus a predominance of the vegetative function, of\nplasticity; because this promises abundant nourishment for the f\u0153tus;\nhence great leanness repels us in a striking degree. A full female bosom\nexerts an exceptional charm upon the male sex; because, standing in direct\nconnection with the female functions of propagation, it promises abundant\nnourishment to the new\u2010born child. On the other hand, excessively fat\nwomen excite our disgust: the cause is that this indicates atrophy of the\nuterus, thus barrenness; which is not known by the head, but by instinct.\nThe last consideration of all is the beauty of the face. Here also before\neverything else the bones are considered; therefore we look principally\nfor a beautiful nose, and a short turned\u2010up nose spoils everything. A\nslight inclination of the nose downwards or upwards has decided the\nhappiness in life of innumerable maidens, and rightly so, for it concerns\nthe type of the species. A small mouth, by means of small maxill\u00e6, is very\nessential as specifically characteristic of the human countenance, as\ndistinguished from the muzzle of the brutes. A receding or, as it were,\ncut\u2010away chin is especially disagreeable, because _mentum prominulum_ is\nan exclusive characteristic of our species. Finally comes the regard for\nbeautiful eyes and forehead; it is connected with the psychical qualities,\nespecially the intellectual which are inherited from the mother.\n\nThe unconscious considerations which, on the other hand, the inclination\nof women follows naturally cannot be so exactly assigned. In general the\nfollowing may be asserted: They give the preference to the age from thirty\nto thirty\u2010five years, especially over that of youths who yet really\npresent the height of human beauty. The reason is that they are not guided\nby taste but by instinct, which recognises in the age named the acme of\nreproductive power. In general they look less to beauty, especially of the\nface. It is as if they took it upon themselves alone to impart this to the\nchild. They are principally won by the strength of the man, and the\ncourage which is connected with this; for these promise the production of\nstronger children, and also a brave protector for them. Every physical\ndefect of the man, every divergence from the type, may with regard to the\nchild be removed by the woman in reproduction, through the fact that she\nherself is blameless in these respects, or even exceeds in the opposite\ndirection. Only those qualities of the man have to be excepted which are\npeculiar to his sex, and which therefore the mother cannot give to the\nchild: such are the manly structure of the skeleton, broad shoulders,\nslender hips, straight bones, muscular power, courage, beard, &c. Hence it\narises that women often love ugly men, but never an unmanly man, because\nthey cannot neutralise his defects.\n\nThe second class of the considerations which lie at the foundation of\nsexual love are those which regard psychical qualities. Here we shall find\nthat the woman is throughout attracted by the qualities of the heart or\ncharacter in the man, as those which are inherited from the father. The\nwoman is won especially by firmness of will, decision, and courage, and\nperhaps also by honesty and good\u2010heartedness. On the other hand,\nintellectual gifts exercise no direct and instinctive power over her, just\nbecause they are not inherited from the father. Want of understanding does\na man no harm with women; indeed extraordinary mental endowment, or even\ngenius, might sooner influence them unfavourably as an abnormity. Hence\none often sees an ugly, stupid, and coarse fellow get the better of a\ncultured, able, and amiable man with women. Also marriages from love are\nsometimes consummated between natures which are mentally very different:\nfor example, the man is rough, powerful, and stupid; the woman tenderly\nsensitive, delicately thoughtful, cultured, \u00e6sthetic, &c.; or the man is a\ngenius and learned, the woman a goose:\n\n\n    \u201c_Sic visum Veneri; cui placet impares_\n    _Formas atque animos sub juga a\u00ebnea_\n          _S\u00e6vo mittere cum joco._\u201d\n\n\nThe reason is, that here quite other considerations than the intellectual\npredominate,\u2014those of instinct. In marriage what is looked to is not\nintellectual entertainment, but the production of children: it is a bond\nof the heart, not of the head. It is a vain and absurd pretence when women\nassert that they have fallen in love with the mind of a man, or else it is\nthe over\u2010straining of a degenerate nature. Men, on the other hand, are not\ndetermined in their instinctive love by the qualities of character of the\nwoman; hence so many Socrateses have found their Xantippes; for example,\nShakspeare, Albrecht D\u00fcrer, Byron, &c. The intellectual qualities,\nhowever, certainly influence here, because they are inherited from the\nmother. Yet their influence is easily outweighed by that of physical\nbeauty, which acts directly, as concerning a more essential point.\nHowever, it happens, either from the feeling or the experience of that\ninfluence, that mothers have their daughters taught the fine arts,\nlanguages, and so forth in order to make them attractive to men, whereby\nthey wish to assist the intellect by artificial means, just as, in case of\nneed, they assist the hips and the bosom. Observe that here we are\nspeaking throughout only of that entirely immediate instinctive attraction\nfrom which alone love properly so called grows. That a woman of culture\nand understanding prizes understanding and intellect in a man, that a man\nfrom rational reflection should test and have regard to the character of\nhis bride, has nothing to do with the matter with which we are dealing\nhere. Such things lie at the bottom of a rational choice in marriage, but\nnot of the passionate love, which is our theme.\n\nHitherto I have only taken account of the _absolute_ considerations,\n_i.e._, those which hold good for every one: I come now to the _relative_\nconsiderations, which are individual, because in their case what is looked\nto is the rectification of the type of the species, which is already\ndefectively presented, the correction of the divergences from it which the\nchooser\u2019s own person already bears in itself, and thus the return to the\npure presentation of the type. Here, then, each one loves what he lacks.\nStarting from the individual constitution, and directed to the individual\nconstitution, the choice which rests upon such relative considerations is\nmuch more definite, decided, and exclusive than that which proceeds merely\nfrom the absolute considerations; therefore the source of really\npassionate love will lie, as a rule, in these relative considerations, and\nonly that of the ordinary and slighter inclination in the absolute\nconsiderations. Accordingly it is not generally precisely correct and\nperfect beauties that kindle great passions. For such a truly passionate\ninclination to arise something is required which can only be expressed by\na chemical metaphor: two persons must neutralise each other, like acid and\nalkali, to a neutral salt. The essential conditions demanded for this are\nthe following. First: all sex is one\u2010sided. This one\u2010sidedness is more\ndistinctly expressed in one individual than in another; therefore in every\nindividual it can be better supplemented and neutralised by one than by\nanother individual of the opposite sex, for each one requires a one\u2010\nsidedness which is the opposite of his own to complete the type of\nhumanity in the new individual that is to be produced, the constitution of\nwhich is always the goal towards which all tends. Physiologists know that\nmanhood and womanhood admit of innumerable degrees, through which the\nformer sinks to the repulsive gynander and hypospad\u00e6us, and the latter\nrises to the graceful androgyne; from both sides complete hermaphrodism\ncan be reached, at which point stand those individuals who, holding the\nexact mean between the two sexes, can be attributed to neither, and\nconsequently are unfit to propagate the species. Accordingly, the\nneutralisation of two individualities by each other, of which we are\nspeaking, demands that the definite degree of _his_ manhood shall exactly\ncorrespond to the definite degree of _her_ womanhood; so that the one\u2010\nsidedness of each exactly annuls that of the other. Accordingly, the most\nmanly man will seek the most womanly woman, and _vice vers\u00e2_, and in the\nsame way every individual will seek another corresponding to him or her in\ndegree of sex. Now how far the required relation exists between two\nindividuals is instinctively felt by them, and, together with the other\nrelative considerations, lies at the foundation of the higher degrees of\nlove. While, therefore, the lovers speak pathetically of the harmony of\ntheir souls, the heart of the matter is for the most part the agreement or\nsuitableness pointed out here with reference to the being which is to be\nproduced and its perfection, and which is also clearly of much more\nimportance than the harmony of their souls, which often, not long after\nthe marriage, resolves itself into a howling discord. Now, here come in\nthe further relative considerations, which depend upon the fact that every\none endeavours to neutralise by means of the other his weaknesses,\ndefects, and deviations from the type, so that they will not perpetuate\nthemselves, or even develop into complete abnormities in the child which\nis to be produced. The weaker a man is as regards muscular power the more\nwill he seek for strong women; and the woman on her side will do the same.\nBut since now a less degree of muscular power is natural and regular in\nthe woman, women as a rule will give the preference to strong men.\nFurther, the size is an important consideration. Little men have a decided\ninclination for big women, and _vice vers\u00e2_; and indeed in a little man\nthe preference for big women will be so much the more passionate if he\nhimself was begotten by a big father, and only remains little through the\ninfluence of his mother; because he has inherited from his father the\nvascular system and its energy, which was able to supply a large body with\nblood. If, on the other hand, his father and grandfather were both little,\nthat inclination will make itself less felt. At the foundation of the\naversion of a big woman to big men lies the intention of nature to avoid\ntoo big a race, if with the strength which _this_ woman could impart to\nthem they would be too weak to live long. If, however, such a woman\nselects a big husband, perhaps for the sake of being more presentable in\nsociety, then, as a rule, her offspring will have to atone for her folly.\nFurther, the consideration as to the complexion is very decided. Blondes\nprefer dark persons, or brunettes; but the latter seldom prefer the\nformer. The reason is, that fair hair and blue eyes are in themselves a\nvariation from the type, almost an abnormity, analogous to white mice, or\nat least to grey horses. In no part of the world, not even in the vicinity\nof the pole, are they indigenous, except in Europe, and are clearly of\nScandinavian origin. I may here express my opinion in passing that the\nwhite colour of the skin is not natural to man, but that by nature he has\na black or brown skin, like our forefathers the Hindus; that consequently\na white man has never originally sprung from the womb of nature, and that\nthus there is no such thing as a white race, much as this is talked of,\nbut every white man is a faded or bleached one. Forced into the strange\nworld, where he only exists like an exotic plant, and like this requires\nin winter the hothouse, in the course of thousands of years man became\nwhite. The gipsies, an Indian race which immigrated only about four\ncenturies ago, show the transition from the complexion of the Hindu to our\nown.(38) Therefore in sexual love nature strives to return to dark hair\nand brown eyes as the primitive type; but the white colour of the skin has\nbecome a second nature, though not so that the brown of the Hindu repels\nus. Finally, each one also seeks in the particular parts of the body the\ncorrective of his own defects and aberrations, and does so the more\ndecidedly the more important the part is. Therefore snub\u2010nosed individuals\nhave an inexpressible liking for hook\u2010noses, parrot\u2010faces; and it is the\nsame with regard to all other parts. Men with excessively slim, long\nbodies and limbs can find beauty in a body which is even beyond measure\nstumpy and short. The considerations with regard to temperament act in an\nanalogous manner. Each will prefer the temperament opposed to his own; yet\nonly in proportion as his one is decided. Whoever is himself in some\nrespect very perfect does not indeed seek and love imperfection in this\nrespect, but is yet more easily reconciled to it than others; because he\nhimself insures the children against great imperfection of this part. For\nexample, whoever is himself very white will not object to a yellow\ncomplexion; but whoever has the latter will find dazzling whiteness\ndivinely beautiful. The rare case in which a man falls in love with a\ndecidedly ugly woman occurs when, besides the exact harmony of the degree\nof sex explained above, the whole of her abnormities are precisely the\nopposite, and thus the corrective, of his. The love is then wont to reach\na high degree.\n\nThe profound seriousness with which we consider and ponder each bodily\npart of the woman, and she on her part does the same, the critical\nscrupulosity with which we inspect a woman who begins to please us, the\ncapriciousness of our choice, the keen attention with which the bridegroom\nobserves his betrothed, his carefulness not to be deceived in any part,\nand the great value which he attaches to every excess or defect in the\nessential parts, all this is quite in keeping with the importance of the\nend. For the new being to be produced will have to bear through its whole\nlife a similar part. For example, if the woman is only a little crooked,\nthis may easily impart to her son a hump, and so in all the rest.\nConsciousness of all this certainly does not exist. On the contrary, every\none imagines that he makes that careful selection in the interest of his\nown pleasure (which at bottom cannot be interested in it at all); but he\nmakes it precisely as, under the presupposition of his own corporisation,\nis most in keeping with the interest of the species, to maintain the type\nof which as pure as possible is the secret task. The individual acts here,\nwithout knowing it, by order of something higher than itself, the species;\nhence the importance which it attaches to things which may and indeed must\nbe, indifferent to itself as such. There is something quite peculiar in\nthe profound unconscious seriousness with which two young persons of\nopposite sex who see each other for the first time regard each other, in\nthe searching and penetrating glance they cast at one another, in the\ncareful review which all the features and parts of their respective\npersons have to endure. This investigating and examining is the\n_meditation of the genius of the species_ on the individual which is\npossible through these two and the combination of its qualities. According\nto the result of this meditation is the degree of their pleasure in each\nother and their yearning for each other. This yearning, even after it has\nattained a considerable degree, may be suddenly extinguished again by the\ndiscovery of something that had previously remained unobserved. In this\nway, then, the genius of the species meditates concerning the coming race\nin all who are capable of reproduction. The nature of this race is the\ngreat work with which Cupid is occupied, unceasingly active, speculating,\nand pondering. In comparison with the importance of his great affair,\nwhich concerns the species and all coming races, the affairs of\nindividuals in their whole ephemeral totality are very trifling; therefore\nhe is always ready to sacrifice these regardlessly. For he is related to\nthem as an immortal to mortals, and his interests to theirs as infinite to\nfinite. Thus, in the consciousness of managing affairs of a higher kind\nthan all those which only concern individual weal or woe, he carries them\non sublimely, undisturbed in the midst of the tumult of war, or in the\nbustle of business life, or during the raging of a plague, and pursues\nthem even into the seclusion of the cloister.\n\nWe have seen in the above that the intensity of love increases with its\nindividualisation, because we have shown that the physical qualities of\ntwo individuals can be such that, for the purpose of restoring as far as\npossible the type of the species, the one is quite specially and perfectly\nthe completion or supplement of the other, which therefore desires it\nexclusively. Already in this case a considerable passion arises, which at\nonce gains a nobler and more sublime appearance from the fact that it is\ndirected to an individual object, and to it alone; thus, as it were,\narises at the special order of the species. For the opposite reason, the\nmere sexual impulse is ignoble, because without individualisation it is\ndirected to all, and strives to maintain the species only as regards\nquantity, with little respect to quality. But the individualising, and\nwith it the intensity of the love, can reach so high a degree that without\nits satisfaction all the good things in the world, and even life itself,\nlose their value. It is then a wish which attains a vehemence that no\nother wish ever reaches, and therefore makes one ready for any sacrifice,\nand in case its fulfilment remains unalterably denied, may lead to madness\nor suicide. At the foundation of such an excessive passion there must lie,\nbesides the considerations we have shown above, still others which we have\nnot thus before our eyes. We must therefore assume that here not only the\ncorporisation, but the _will_ of the man and the _intellect_ of the woman\nare specially suitable to each other, in consequence of which a perfectly\ndefinite individual can be produced by them alone, whose existence the\ngenius of the species has here in view, for reasons which are inaccessible\nto us, since they lie in the nature of the thing in itself. Or, to speak\nmore exactly, the will to live desires here to objectify itself in a\nperfectly definite individual, which can only be produced by this father\nwith this mother. This metaphysical desire of the will in itself has\nprimarily no other sphere of action in the series of existences than the\nhearts of the future parents, which accordingly are seized with this\nardent longing, and now imagine themselves to desire on their own account\nwhat really for the present has only a purely metaphysical end, _i.e._, an\nend which lies outside the series of actually existing things. Thus it is\nthe ardent longing to enter existence of the future individual which has\nfirst become possible here, a longing which proceeds from the primary\nsource of all being, and exhibits itself in the phenomenal world as the\nlofty passion of the future parents for each other, paying little regard\nto all that is outside itself; in fact, as an unparalleled illusion, on\naccount of which such a lover would give up all the good things of this\nworld to enjoy the possession of this woman, who yet can really give him\nnothing more than any other. That yet it is just this possession that is\nkept in view here is seen from the fact that even this lofty passion, like\nall others, is extinguished in its enjoyment\u2014to the great astonishment of\nthose who are possessed by it. It also becomes extinct when, through the\nwoman turning out barren (which, according to Hufeland, may arise from\nnineteen accidental constitutional defects), the real metaphysical end is\nfrustrated; just as daily happens in millions of germs trampled under\nfoot, in which yet the same metaphysical life principle strives for\nexistence; for which there is no other consolation than that an infinity\nof space, time, and matter, and consequently inexhaustible opportunity for\nreturn, stands open to the will to live.\n\nThe view which is here expounded must once have been present to the mind\nof Theophrastus Paracelsus, even if only in a fleeting form, though he has\nnot handled this subject, and my whole system of thought was foreign to\nhim; for, in quite a different context and in his desultory manner, he\nwrote the following remarkable words: \u201c_Hi sunt, quos Deus copulavit, ut\neam, qu\u00e6 fuit Uri\u00e6 et David; quamvis ex diametro (sic enim sibi humana\nmens persuadebat) cum justo et legitimo matrimonio pugnaret hoc.... sed\npropter Salomonem_, QUI ALIUNDE NASCI NON POTUIT, _nisi ex Bathseba,\nconjuncto David semine, quamvis meretrice, conjunxit eos Deus_\u201d (_De vita\nlonga_, i. 5).\n\nThe longing of love, the \u1f31\u03bc\u03b5\u03c1\u03bf\u03c2, which the poets of all ages are\nunceasingly occupied with expressing in innumerable forms, and do not\nexhaust the subject, nay, cannot do it justice, this longing, which\nattaches the idea of endless happiness to the possession of a particular\nwoman, and unutterable pain to the thought that this possession cannot be\nattained,\u2014this longing and this pain cannot obtain their material from the\nwants of an ephemeral individual; but they are the sighs of the spirit of\nthe species, which sees here, to be won or lost, a means for the\nattainment of its ends which cannot be replaced, and therefore groans\ndeeply. The species alone has infinite life, and therefore is capable of\ninfinite desires, infinite satisfaction, and infinite pain. But these are\nhere imprisoned in the narrow breast of a mortal. No wonder, then, if such\na breast seems like to burst, and can find no expression for the\nintimations of infinite rapture or infinite misery with which it is\nfilled. This, then, affords the materials for all erotic poetry of a\nsublime kind, which accordingly rises into transcendent metaphors, soaring\nabove all that is earthly. This is the theme of Petrarch, the material for\nthe St. Preuxs, Werthers, and Jacopo Ortis, who apart from it could not be\nunderstood nor explained. For that infinite esteem for the loved one\ncannot rest upon some spiritual excellences, or in general upon any\nobjective, real qualities of hers; for one thing, because she is often not\nsufficiently well known to the lover, as was the case with Petrarch. The\nspirit of the species alone can see at one glance what _worth_ she has for\n_it_, for its ends. And great passions also arise, as a rule, at the first\nglance:\n\n\n    \u201cWho ever loved that loved not at first sight?\u201d\n\n    \u2014SHAKSPEARE, \u201cAs You Like it,\u201d iii. 5.\n\n\nIn this regard a passage in the romance of \u201c_Guzman de Alfarache_,\u201d by\nMateo Aleman, which has been famous for 250 years, is remarkable: \u201c_No es\nnecessario, para que uno ame, que pase distancia de tiempo, que siga\ndiscurso, ni haga eleccion, sino que con aquella primera y sola vista,\nconcurran juntamente cierta correspondencia \u00f3 consonancia, \u00f3 lo que ac\u00e1 __\nsolemos vulgarmente decir, una confrontacion de sangre, a que por\nparticular influxo suelen mover las estrellas._\u201d (For one to love it is\nnot necessary that much time should pass, that he should set about\nreflecting and make a choice; but only that at that first and only glance\na certain correspondence and consonance should be encountered on both\nsides, or that which in common life we are wont to call a _sympathy of the\nblood_, and to which a special influence of the stars generally impels),\nP. ii. lib. iii. c. 5. Accordingly the loss of the loved one, through a\nrival, or through death, is also for the passionate lover a pain that\nsurpasses all others, just because it is of a transcendental kind, since\nit affects him not merely as an individual, but attacks him in his\n_essentia \u00e6terna_, in the life of the species into whose special will and\nservice he was here called. Hence jealousy is such torment and so grim,\nand the surrender of the loved one is the greatest of all sacrifices. A\nhero is ashamed of all lamentations except the lamentation of love,\nbecause in this it is not he but the species that laments. In Calderon\u2019s\n\u201cZenobia the Great\u201d there is in the first act a scene between Zenobia and\nDecius in which the latter says:\n\n\n    \u201c_Cielos, luego tu me quieres? Perdiera cien mil victorias,\n    Volvi\u00e9rame_,\u201d &c.\n\n    (Heaven! then thou lovest me? For this I would lose a thousand\n    victories, would turn about, &c.)\n\n\nHere, honour, which hitherto outweighed every interest, is beaten out of\nthe field as soon as sexual love, _i.e._, the interest of the species,\ncomes into play, and sees before it a decided advantage; for this is\ninfinitely superior to every interest of mere individuals, however\nimportant it may be. Therefore to this alone honour, duty, and fidelity\nyield after they have withstood every other temptation, including the\nthreat of death. In the same way we find in private life that\nconscientiousness is in no point so rare as in this: it is here sometimes\nset aside even by persons who are otherwise honest and just, and adultery\nis recklessly committed when passionate love, _i.e._, the interest of the\nspecies, has mastered them. It even seems as if in this they believed\nthemselves to be conscious of a higher right than the interests of\nindividuals can ever confer; just because they act in the interest of the\nspecies. In this reference Chamfort\u2019s remark is worth noticing: \u201c_Quand un\nhomme et une femme ont l\u2019un pour l\u2019autre une passion violente, il me\nsemble toujours que quelque soient les obstacles qui les s\u00e9parent, un\nmari, des parens, etc., les deux amans sont l\u2019un a l\u2019autre, de par la\nNature, qu\u2019ils s\u2019appartiennent de droit divin, malgr\u00e9 les lois et les\nconventions humaines_.\u201d Whoever is inclined to be incensed at this should\nbe referred to the remarkable indulgence which the Saviour shows in the\nGospel to the woman taken in adultery, in that He also assumes the same\nguilt in the case of all present. From this point of view the greater part\nof the \u201cDecameron\u201d appears as mere mocking and jeering of the genius of\nthe species at the rights and interests of individuals which it tramples\nunder foot. Differences of rank and all similar circumstances, when they\noppose the union of passionate lovers, are set aside with the same ease\nand treated as nothing by the genius of the species, which, pursuing its\nends that concern innumerable generations, blows off as spray such human\nlaws and scruples. From the same deep\u2010lying grounds, when the ends of\npassionate love are concerned, every danger is willingly encountered, and\nthose who are otherwise timorous here become courageous. In plays and\nnovels also we see, with ready sympathy, the young persons who are\nfighting the battle of their love, _i.e._, the interest of the species,\ngain the victory over their elders, who are thinking only of the welfare\nof the individuals. For the efforts of the lovers appear to us as much\nmore important, sublime, and therefore right, than anything that can be\nopposed to them, as the species is more important than the individual.\nAccordingly the fundamental theme of almost all comedies is the appearance\nof the genius of the species with its aims, which are opposed to the\npersonal interest of the individuals presented, and therefore threaten to\nundermine their happiness. As a rule it attains its end, which, as in\naccordance with poetical justice, satisfies the spectator, because he\nfeels that the aims of the species are much to be preferred to those of\nthe individual. Therefore at the conclusion he leaves the victorious\nlovers quite confidently, because he shares with them the illusion that\nthey have founded their own happiness, while they have rather sacrificed\nit to the choice of the species, against the will and foresight of their\nelders. It has been attempted in single, abnormal comedies to reverse the\nmatter and bring about the happiness of the individuals at the cost of the\naims of the species; but then the spectator feels the pain which the\ngenius of the species suffers, and is not consoled by the advantages which\nare thereby assured to the individuals. As examples of this kind two very\nwell\u2010known little pieces occur to me: \u201c_La reine de 16 ans_,\u201d and \u201c_Le\nmarriage de raison_.\u201d In tragedies containing love affairs, since the aims\nof the species are frustrated, the lovers who were its tools, generally\nperish also; for example, in \u201cRomeo and Juliet,\u201d \u201cTancred,\u201d \u201cDon Carlos,\u201d\n\u201cWallenstein,\u201d \u201cThe Bride of Messina,\u201d and many others.\n\nThe love of a man often affords comical, and sometimes also tragical\nphenomena; both because, taken possession of by the spirit of the species,\nhe is now ruled by this, and no longer belongs to himself: his conduct\nthereby becomes unsuited to the individual. That which in the higher\ngrades of love imparts such a tinge of poetry and sublimeness to his\nthoughts, which gives them even a transcendental and hyperphysical\ntendency, on account of which he seems to lose sight altogether of his\nreal, very physical aim, is at bottom this, that he is now inspired by the\nspirit of the species whose affairs are infinitely more important than all\nthose which concern mere individuals, in order to find under the special\ndirections of this spirit the whole existence of an indefinitely long\nposterity with this individual and exactly determined nature, which it can\nreceive only from him as father and the woman he loves as mother, and\nwhich otherwise could never, _as such_, attain to existence, while the\nobjectification of the will to live expressly demands this existence. It\nis the feeling that he is acting in affairs of such transcendent\nimportance which raises the lover so high above everything earthly, nay,\neven above himself, and gives such a hyperphysical clothing to his very\nphysical desires, that love becomes a poetical episode even in the life of\nthe most prosaic man; in which last case the matter sometimes assumes a\ncomical aspect. That mandate of the will which objectifies itself in the\nspecies exhibits itself in the consciousness of the lover under the mask\nof the anticipation of an infinite blessedness which is to be found for\nhim in the union with this female individual. Now, in the highest grades\nof love this chimera becomes so radiant that if it cannot be attained life\nitself loses all charm, and now appears so joyless, hollow, and\ninsupportable that the disgust at it even overcomes the fear of death, so\nthat it is then sometimes voluntarily cut short. The will of such a man\nhas been caught in the vortex of the will of the species, or this has\nobtained such a great predominance over the individual will that if such a\nman cannot be effective in the first capacity, he disdains to be so in the\nlast. The individual is here too weak a vessel to be capable of enduring\nthe infinite longing of the will of the species concentrated upon a\ndefinite object. In this case, therefore, the issue is suicide, sometimes\nthe double suicide of the two lovers; unless, to save life, nature allows\nmadness to intervene, which then covers with its veil the consciousness of\nthat hopeless state. No year passes without proving the reality of what\nhas been expounded by several cases of all these kinds.\n\nNot only, however, has the unsatisfied passion of love sometimes a tragic\nissue, but the satisfied passion also leads oftener to unhappiness than to\nhappiness. For its demands often conflict so much with the personal\nwelfare of him who is concerned that they undermine it, because they are\nincompatible with his other circumstances, and disturb the plan of life\nbuilt upon them. Nay, not only with external circumstances is love often\nin contradiction, but even with the lover\u2019s own individuality, for it\nflings itself upon persons who, apart from the sexual relation, would be\nhateful, contemptible, and even abhorrent to the lover. But so much more\npowerful is the will of the species than that of the individual that the\nlover shuts his eyes to all those qualities which are repellent to him,\noverlooks all, ignores all, and binds himself for ever to the object of\nhis passion\u2014so entirely is he blinded by that illusion, which vanishes as\nsoon as the will of the species is satisfied, and leaves behind a detested\ncompanion for life. Only from this can it be explained that we often see\nvery reasonable and excellent men bound to termagants and she\u2010devils, and\ncannot conceive how they could have made such a choice. On this account\nthe ancients represented love as blind. Indeed, a lover may even know\ndistinctly and feel bitterly the faults of temperament and character of\nhis bride, which promise him a miserable life, and yet not be frightened\naway:\u2014\n\n\n    \u201cI ask not, I care not,\n      If guilt\u2019s in thy heart,\n    I know that I love thee\n      Whatever thou art.\u201d\n\n\nFor ultimately he seeks not his own things, but those of a third person,\nwho has yet to come into being, although he is involved in the illusion\nthat what he seeks is his own affair. But it is just this not seeking of\none\u2019s own things which is everywhere the stamp of greatness, that gives to\npassionate love also a touch of sublimity, and makes it a worthy subject\nof poetry. Finally, sexual love is compatible even with the extremest\nhatred towards its object: therefore Plato has compared it to the love of\nthe wolf for the sheep. This case appears when a passionate lover, in\nspite of all efforts and entreaties, cannot obtain a favourable hearing on\nany condition:\u2014\n\n\n    \u201cI love and hate her.\u201d\n\n    \u2014SHAKSPEARE, _Cymb._, iii. 5.\n\n\nThe hatred of the loved one which then is kindled sometimes goes so far\nthat the lover murders her, and then himself. One or two examples of this\ngenerally happen every year; they will be found in the newspapers.\nTherefore Goethe\u2019s lines are quite correct:\u2014\n\n\n    \u201cBy all despised love! By hellish element!\n    Would that I knew a worse, that I might swear by!\u201d\n\n\nIt is really no hyperbole if a lover describes the coldness of his beloved\nand the delight of her vanity, which feeds on his sufferings, as cruelty;\nfor he is under the influence of an impulse which, akin to the instinct of\ninsects, compels him, in spite of all grounds of reason, to pursue his end\nunconditionally, and to undervalue everything else: he cannot give it up.\nNot one but many a Petrarch has there been who was compelled to drag\nthrough life the unsatisfied ardour of love, like a fetter, an iron weight\nat his foot, and breathe his sighs in lonely woods; but only in the one\nPetrarch dwelt also the gift of poetry; so that Goethe\u2019s beautiful lines\nhold good of him:\u2014\n\n\n    \u201cAnd when in misery the man was dumb\n    A god gave me the power to tell my sorrow.\u201d\n\n\nIn fact, the genius of the species wages war throughout with the guardian\ngeniuses of individuals, is their pursuer and enemy, always ready\nrelentlessly to destroy personal happiness in order to carry out its ends;\nnay, the welfare of whole nations has sometimes been sacrificed to its\nhumours. An example of this is given us by Shakspeare in \u201cHenry VI.,\u201d pt.\niii., act 3, sc. 2 and 3. All this depends upon the fact that the species,\nas that in which the root of our being lies, has a closer and earlier\nright to us than the individual; hence its affairs take precedence. From\nthe feeling of this the ancients personified the genius of the species in\nCupid, a malevolent, cruel, and therefore ill\u2010reputed god, in spite of his\nchildish appearance; a capricious, despotic demon, but yet lord of gods\nand men:\n\n\n    \u201c\u03a3\u03c5 \u03b4\u1fbd\u03c9 \u03b8\u03b5\u03c9\u03bd \u03c4\u03c5\u03c1\u03b1\u03bd\u03bd\u03b5 \u03ba\u1fbd\u03b1\u03bd\u03b8\u03c1\u03c9\u03c0\u03c9\u03bd, \u0395\u03c1\u03c9\u03c2!\u201d\n\n    (_Tu, deorum hominumque tyranne, Amor!_)\n\n\nA deadly shot, blindness, and wings are his attributes. The latter signify\ninconstancy; and this appears, as a rule, only with the disillusion which\nis the consequence of satisfaction.\n\nBecause the passion depended upon an illusion, which represented that\nwhich has only value for the species as valuable for the individual, the\ndeception must vanish after the attainment of the end of the species. The\nspirit of the species which took possession of the individual sets it free\nagain. Forsaken by this spirit, the individual falls back into its\noriginal limitation and narrowness, and sees with wonder that after such a\nhigh, heroic, and infinite effort nothing has resulted for its pleasure\nbut what every sexual gratification affords. Contrary to expectation, it\nfinds itself no happier than before. It observes that it has been the dupe\nof the will of the species. Therefore, as a rule, a Theseus who has been\nmade happy will forsake his Ariadne. If Petrarch\u2019s passion had been\nsatisfied, his song would have been silenced from that time forth, like\nthat of the bird as soon as the eggs are laid.\n\nHere let me remark in passing that however much my metaphysics of love\nwill displease the very persons who are entangled in this passion, yet if\nrational considerations in general could avail anything against it, the\nfundamental truth disclosed by me would necessarily fit one more than\nanything else to subdue it. But the saying of the old comedian will, no\ndoubt, remain true: \u201c_Qu\u00e6 res in se __ neque consilium, neque modum habet\nullum, eam consilio regere non potes._\u201d\n\nMarriages from love are made in the interest of the species, not of the\nindividuals. Certainly the persons concerned imagine they are advancing\ntheir own happiness; but their real end is one which is foreign to\nthemselves, for it lies in the production of an individual which is only\npossible through them. Brought together by this aim, they ought henceforth\nto try to get on together as well as possible. But very often the pair\nbrought together by that instinctive illusion, which is the essence of\npassionate love, will, in other respects, be of very different natures.\nThis comes to light when the illusion vanishes, as it necessarily must.\nAccordingly love marriages, as a rule, turn out unhappy; for through them\nthe coming generation is cared for at the expense of the present. \u201c_Quien\nse casa por amores, ha de vivir con dolores_\u201d (Who marries from love must\nlive in sorrow), says the Spanish proverb. The opposite is the case with\nmarriages contracted for purposes of convenience, generally in accordance\nwith the choice of the parents. The considerations prevailing here, of\nwhatever kind they may be, are at least real, and cannot vanish of\nthemselves. Through them, however, the happiness of the present generation\nis certainly cared for, to the disadvantage of the coming generation, and\nnotwithstanding this it remains problematical. The man who in his marriage\nlooks to money more than to the satisfaction of his inclination lives more\nin the individual than in the species; which is directly opposed to the\ntruth; hence it appears unnatural, and excites a certain contempt. A girl\nwho, against the advice of her parents, rejects the offer of a rich and\nnot yet old man, in order, setting aside all considerations of\nconvenience, to choose according to her instinctive inclination alone,\nsacrifices her individual welfare to the species. But just on this account\none cannot withhold from her a certain approbation; for she has preferred\nwhat is of most importance, and has acted in the spirit of nature (more\nexactly, of the species), while the parents advised in the spirit of\nindividual egoism. In accordance with all this, it appears as if in making\na marriage either the individual or the interests of the species must come\noff a loser. And this is generally the case; for that convenience and\npassionate love should go hand in hand is the rarest of lucky accidents.\nThe physical, moral, or intellectual deficiency of the nature of most men\nmay to some extent have its ground in the fact that marriages are\nordinarily entered into not from pure choice and inclination, but from all\nkinds of external considerations, and on account of accidental\ncircumstances. If, however, besides convenience, inclination is also to a\ncertain extent regarded, this is, as it were, an agreement with the genius\nof the species. Happy marriages are well known to be rare; just because it\nlies in the nature of marriage that its chief end is not the present but\nthe coming generation. However, let me add, for the consolation of tender,\nloving natures, that sometimes passionate sexual love associates itself\nwith a feeling of an entirely different origin\u2014real friendship based upon\nagreement of disposition, which yet for the most part only appears when\nsexual love proper is extinguished in its satisfaction. This friendship\nwill then generally spring from the fact that the supplementing and\ncorresponding physical, moral, and intellectual qualities of the two\nindividuals, from which sexual love arose, with reference to the child to\nbe produced, are, with reference also to the individuals themselves,\nrelated to each other in a supplementary manner as opposite qualities of\ntemperament and mental gifts, and thereby form the basis of a harmony of\ndisposition.\n\nThe whole metaphysics of love here dealt with stands in close connection\nwith my metaphysics in general, and the light which it throws upon this\nmay be summed up as follows.\n\nWe have seen that the careful selection for the satisfaction of the sexual\nimpulse, a selection which rises through innumerable degrees up to that of\npassionate love, depends upon the highly serious interest which man takes\nin the special personal constitution of the next generation. Now this\nexceedingly remarkable interest confirms two truths which have been set\nforth in the preceding chapters. (1.) The indestructibility of the true\nnature of man, which lives on in that coming generation. For that interest\nwhich is so lively and eager, and does not spring from reflection and\nintention, but from the inmost characteristics and tendencies of our\nnature, could not be so indelibly present and exercise such great power\nover man if he were absolutely perishable, and were merely followed in\ntime by a race actually and entirely different from him. (2.) That his\ntrue nature lies more in the species than in the individual. For that\ninterest in the special nature of the species, which is the root of all\nlove, from the passing inclination to the serious passion, is for every\none really the highest concern, the success or failure of which touches\nhim most sensibly; therefore it is called _par excellence_ the affair of\nthe heart. Moreover, when this interest has expressed itself strongly and\ndecidedly, everything which merely concerns one\u2019s own person is postponed\nand necessarily sacrificed to it. Through this, then, man shows that the\nspecies lies closer to him than the individual, and he lives more\nimmediately in the former than in the latter. Why does the lover hang with\ncomplete abandonment on the eyes of his chosen one, and is ready to make\nevery sacrifice for her? Because it is his immortal part that longs after\nher; while it is only his mortal part that desires everything else. That\nvehement or intense longing directed to a particular woman is accordingly\nan immediate pledge of the indestructibility of the kernel of our being,\nand of its continued existence in the species. But to regard this\ncontinued existence as something trifling and insufficient is an error\nwhich arises from the fact that under the conception of the continued life\nof the species one thinks nothing more than the future existence of beings\nsimilar to us, but in no regard identical with us; and this again because,\nstarting from knowledge directed towards without, one takes into\nconsideration only the external form of the species as we apprehend it in\nperception, and not its inner nature. But it is just this inner nature\nwhich lies at the foundation of our own consciousness as its kernel, and\nhence indeed is more immediate than this itself, and, as thing in itself,\nfree from the _principium individuationis_, is really the same and\nidentical in all individuals, whether they exist together or after each\nother. Now this is the will to live, thus just that which desires life and\ncontinuance so vehemently. This accordingly is spared and unaffected by\ndeath. It can attain to no better state than its present one; and\nconsequently for it, with life, the constant suffering and striving of the\nindividuals is certain. To free it from this is reserved for the denial of\nthe will to live, as the means by which the individual will breaks away\nfrom the stem of the species, and surrenders that existence in it. We lack\nconceptions for that which it now is; indeed all data for such conceptions\nare wanting. We can only describe it as that which is free to be will to\nlive or not. Buddhism denotes the latter case by the word Nirvana, the\netymology of which was given in the note at the end of chapter 41. It is\nthe point which remains for ever unattainable to all human knowledge, just\nas such.\n\nIf now, from the standpoint of this last consideration, we contemplate the\nturmoil of life, we behold all occupied with its want and misery,\nstraining all their powers to satisfy its infinite needs and to ward off\nits multifarious sorrows, yet without daring to hope anything else than\nsimply the preservation of this tormented existence for a short span of\ntime. In between, however, in the midst of the tumult, we see the glances\nof two lovers meet longingly: yet why so secretly, fearfully, and\nstealthily? Because these lovers are the traitors who seek to perpetuate\nthe whole want and drudgery, which would otherwise speedily reach an end;\nthis they wish to frustrate, as others like them have frustrated it\nbefore. This consideration already passes over into the subject of the\nfollowing chapter.(39)\n\n\n\n\nChapter XLV.(40) On The Assertion Of The Will To Live.\n\n\nIf the will to live exhibited itself merely as an impulse to self\u2010\npreservation, this would only be an assertion of the individual phenomenon\nfor the span of time of its natural duration. The cares and troubles of\nsuch a life would not be great, and consequently existence would be easy\nand serene. Since, on the contrary, the will wills life absolutely and for\nall time, it exhibits itself also as sexual impulse, which has in view an\nendless series of generations. This impulse does away with that\ncarelessness, serenity, and innocence which would accompany a merely\nindividual existence, for it brings unrest and melancholy into the\nconsciousness; misfortunes, cares, and misery into the course of life. If,\non the other hand, it is voluntarily suppressed, as we see in rare\nexceptions, then this is the turning of the will, which changes its\ncourse. The will does not then transcend the individual, but is abolished\nin it. Yet this can only take place by means of the individual doing\npainful violence to itself. If, however, it does take place, then the\nfreedom from care and the serenity of the purely individual existence is\nrestored to the consciousness, and indeed in a higher degree. On the other\nhand, to the satisfaction of that most vehement of all impulses and\ndesires is linked the origin of a new existence, thus the carrying out of\nlife anew, with all its burdens, cares, wants, and pains; certainly in\nanother individual; yet if the two who are different in the phenomenon\nwere so absolutely and in themselves, where would then be eternal justice?\nLife presents itself as a problem, a task to be worked out, and therefore,\nas a rule, as a constant conflict with necessity. Accordingly every one\ntries to get through with it and come off as well as he can. He performs\nlife as a compulsory service which he owes. But who has contracted the\ndebt?\u2014His begetter, in the enjoyment of sensual pleasure. Thus, because\nthe one has enjoyed this, the other must live, suffer, and die. However,\nwe know and look back here to the fact that the difference of the similar\nis conditioned by space and time, which in this sense I have called the\n_principium individuationis_. Otherwise eternal justice could not be\nvindicated. Paternal love, on account of which the father is ready to do,\nto suffer, and to risk more for his child than for himself, and at the\nsame time knows that he owes this, depends simply upon the fact that the\nbegetter recognises himself in the begotten.\n\nThe life of a man, with its endless care, want, and suffering, is to be\nregarded as the explanation and paraphrase of the act of procreation,\n_i.e._, the decided assertion of the will to live; and further, it is also\ndue to this that he owes to nature the debt of death, and thinks with\nanxiety of this debt. Is this not evidence of the fact that our existence\ninvolves guilt? At any rate, we always exist, subject to the periodical\npayment of the toll, birth and death, and successively partake of all the\nsorrows and joys of life, so that none can escape us: this is just the\nfruit of the assertion of the will to live. Thus the fear of death, which\nin spite of all the miseries of life holds us firmly to it, is really\nillusory; but just as illusory is the impulse which has enticed us into\nit. This enticement itself may be seen objectively in the reciprocal\nlonging glances of two lovers; they are the purest expression of the will\nto live, in its assertion. How soft and tender it is here! It wills well\u2010\nbeing, and quiet pleasure, and mild joys for itself, for others, for all.\nIt is the theme of Anacreon. Thus by allurements and flattery it makes its\nway into life. But when once it is there, misery introduces crime, and\ncrime misery; horror and desolation fill the scene. It is the theme of\n\u00c6schylus.\n\nBut now the act through which the will asserts itself and man arises is\none of which all are, in their inmost being, ashamed, which they therefore\ncarefully conceal; nay, if they are caught in it, are terrified as if they\nhad been taken in a crime. It is an action of which in cold reflection one\ngenerally thinks with dislike, and in a lofty mood with loathing.\nReflections which in this regard approach the matter more closely are\noffered by Montaigne in the fifth chapter of the third book, under the\nmarginal heading: \u201c_Ce que c\u2019est que l\u2019amour_.\u201d A peculiar sadness and\nrepentance follows close upon it, is yet most perceptible after the first\nperformance of the act, and in general is the more distinct the nobler is\nthe character. Hence even Pliny, the pagan, says: \u201c_Homini tantum primi\ncoitus p\u0153nitentia, augurium scilicet vit\u00e6, a p\u0153nitenda origine_\u201d (_Hist.\nNat._, x. 83). And, on the other hand, in Goethe\u2019s \u201cFaust,\u201d what do devil\nand witches practise and sing of on their Sabbath? Lewdness and obscenity.\nAnd in the same work (in the admirable \u201cParalipomena\u201d to \u201cFaust\u201d) what\ndoes incarnate Satan preach before the assembled multitude? Lewdness and\nobscenity. But simply and solely by means of the continual practice of\nsuch an act as this does the human race subsist. If now optimism were\nright, if our existence were to be thankfully recognised as the gift of\nthe highest goodness guided by wisdom, and accordingly in itself\npraiseworthy, commendable, and agreeable, then certainly the act which\nperpetuates it would necessarily have borne quite another physiognomy. If,\non the other hand, this existence is a kind of false step or error; if it\nis the work of an originally blind will, whose most fortunate development\nis that it comes to itself in order to abolish itself; then the act which\nperpetuates that existence must appear precisely as it does appear.\n\nWith reference to the first fundamental truth of my doctrine, the remark\ndeserves a place here that the shame mentioned above which attaches to the\nact of generation extends even to the parts which are concerned in this,\nalthough, like all other parts, they are given us by nature. This is again\na striking proof that not only the actions but even the body of man is to\nbe regarded as the manifestation, the objectification, of his will, and as\nits work. For he could not be ashamed of a thing which existed without his\nwill.\n\nThe act of generation is further related to the world, as the answer is\nrelated to the riddle. The world is wide in space and old in time, and of\nan inexhaustible multiplicity of forms. Yet all this is only the\nmanifestation of the will to live; and the concentration, the focus of\nthis will is the act of generation. Thus in this act the inner nature of\nthe world expresses itself most distinctly. In this regard it is indeed\nworth noticing that this act itself is also distinctly called \u201cthe will\u201d\nin the very significant German phrase, \u201c_Er verlangte von ihr, sie sollte\nihm zu Willen sein_\u201d (He desired her to comply with his wishes). As the\nmost distinct expression of the will, then, this act is the kernel, the\ncompendium, the quintessence of the world. Therefore from it we obtain\nlight as to the nature and tendency of the world: it is the answer to the\nriddle. Accordingly it is understood under \u201cthe tree of knowledge,\u201d for\nafter acquaintance with it the eyes of every one are opened as to life, as\nByron also says:\n\n\n    \u201cThe tree of knowledge has been plucked,\u2014all\u2019s known.\u201d\n\n    \u2014_Don Juan_, i. 128.\n\n\nIt is not less in keeping with this quality that it is the great \u03b1\u03c1\u03c1\u03b7\u03c4\u03bf\u03bd,\nthe open secret, which must never and nowhere be distinctly mentioned, but\nalways and everywhere is understood as the principal matter, and is\ntherefore constantly present to the thoughts of all, wherefore also the\nslightest allusion to it is instantly understood. The leading part which\nthat act, and what is connected with it, plays in the world, because love\nintrigues are everywhere, on the one hand, pursued, and, on the other\nhand, assumed, is quite in keeping with the importance of this _punctum\nsaliens_ of the egg of the world. The source of the amusing is simply the\nconstant concealment of the chief concern.\n\nBut see now how the young, innocent, human intellect, when that great\nsecret of the world first becomes known to it, is startled at the\nenormity! The reason of this is that in the long course which the\noriginally unconscious will had to traverse before it rose to intellect,\nespecially to human, rational intellect, it became so strange to itself\nthat it no longer knows its origin, that _p\u0153nitenda origo_, and now, from\nthe standpoint of pure, and therefore innocent, knowing, is horrified at\nit.\n\nSince now the focus of the will, _i.e._, its concentration and highest\nexpression, is the sexual impulse and its satisfaction, this is very\nsignificantly and na\u00efvely expressed in the symbolical language of nature\nthrough the fact that the individualised will, that is, the man and the\nbrute, makes its entrance into the world through the door of the sexual\norgans.\n\nThe assertion of the will to live, which accordingly has its centre in the\nact of generation, is in the case of the brute infallible. For the will,\nwhich is the _natura naturans_, first arrives at reflection in man. To\narrive at reflection means, not merely to know the momentary necessity of\nthe individual will, how to serve it in the pressing present\u2014as is the\ncase with the brute, in proportion to its completeness and its\nnecessities, which go hand in hand\u2014but to have attained a greater breadth\nof knowledge, by virtue of a distinct remembrance of the past, an\napproximate anticipation of the future, and thereby a general survey of\nthe individual life, both one\u2019s own life and that of others, nay, of\nexistence in general. Really the life of every species of brute, through\nthe thousands of years of its existence, is to a certain extent like a\nsingle moment; for it is mere consciousness of the present, without that\nof the past and the future, and consequently without that of death. In\nthis sense it is to be regarded as a permanent moment, a _Nunc stans_.\nHere we see, in passing, most distinctly that in general the form of life,\nor the manifestation of the will with consciousness, is primarily and\nimmediately merely the present. Past and future are added only in the case\nof man, and indeed merely in conception, are known _in abstracto_, and\nperhaps illustrated by pictures of the imagination. Thus after the will to\nlive, _i.e._, the inner being of nature, in the ceaseless striving towards\ncomplete objectification and complete enjoyment, has run through the whole\nseries of the brutes,\u2014which often occurs in the various periods of\nsuccessive animal series each arising anew on the same planet,\u2014it arrives\nat last at reflection in the being who is endowed with reason, man. Here\nnow to him the thing begins to be doubtful, the question forces itself\nupon him whence and wherefore all this is, and chiefly whether the care\nand misery of his life and effort is really repaid by the gain? \u201c_Le jeu\nvaut\u2010il bien la chandelle?_\u201d Accordingly here is the point at which, in\nthe light of distinct knowledge, he decides for the assertion or denial of\nthe will to live; although as a rule he can only bring the latter to\nconsciousness in a mythical form. We have consequently no ground for\nassuming that a still more highly developed objectification of the will is\never reached, anywhere; for it has already reached its turning\u2010point here.\n\n\n\n\nChapter XLVI.(41) On The Vanity And Suffering Of Life.\n\n\nAwakened to life out of the night of unconsciousness, the will finds\nitself an individual, in an endless and boundless world, among innumerable\nindividuals, all striving, suffering, erring; and as if through a troubled\ndream it hurries back to its old unconsciousness. Yet till then its\ndesires are limitless, its claims inexhaustible, and every satisfied\ndesire gives rise to a new one. No possible satisfaction in the world\ncould suffice to still its longings, set a goal to its infinite cravings,\nand fill the bottomless abyss of its heart. Then let one consider what as\na rule are the satisfactions of any kind that a man obtains. For the most\npart nothing more than the bare maintenance of this existence itself,\nextorted day by day with unceasing trouble and constant care in the\nconflict with want, and with death in prospect. Everything in life shows\nthat earthly happiness is destined to be frustrated or recognised as an\nillusion. The grounds of this lie deep in the nature of things.\nAccordingly the life of most men is troubled and short. Those who are\ncomparatively happy are so, for the most part, only apparently, or else,\nlike men of long life, they are the rare exceptions, a possibility of\nwhich there had to be,\u2014as decoy\u2010birds. Life presents itself as a continual\ndeception in small things as in great. If it has promised, it does not\nkeep its word, unless to show how little worth desiring were the things\ndesired: thus we are deluded now by hope, now by what was hoped for. If it\nhas given, it did so in order to take. The enchantment of distance shows\nus paradises which vanish like optical illusions when we have allowed\nourselves to be mocked by them. Happiness accordingly always lies in the\nfuture, or else in the past, and the present may be compared to a small\ndark cloud which the wind drives over the sunny plain: before and behind\nit all is bright, only it itself always casts a shadow. The present is\ntherefore always insufficient; but the future is uncertain, and the past\nirrevocable. Life with its hourly, daily, weekly, yearly, little, greater,\nand great misfortunes, with its deluded hopes and its accidents destroying\nall our calculations, bears so distinctly the impression of something with\nwhich we must become disgusted, that it is hard to conceive how one has\nbeen able to mistake this and allow oneself to be persuaded that life is\nthere in order to be thankfully enjoyed, and that man exists in order to\nbe happy. Rather that continual illusion and disillusion, and also the\nnature of life throughout, presents itself to us as intended and\ncalculated to awaken the conviction that nothing at all is worth our\nstriving, our efforts and struggles, that all good things are vanity, the\nworld in all its ends bankrupt, and life a business which does not cover\nits expenses;\u2014so that our will may turn away from it.\n\nThe way in which this vanity of all objects of the will makes itself known\nand comprehensible to the intellect which is rooted in the individual, is\nprimarily _time_. It is the form by means of which that vanity of things\nappears as their perishableness; for on account of this all our pleasures\nand joys disappear in our hands, and we afterwards ask astonished where\nthey have remained. That nothingness itself is therefore the only\n_objective_ element in time, _i.e._, that which corresponds to it in the\ninner nature of things, thus that of which it is the expression. Just on\nthis account time is the _a priori_ necessary form of all our perceptions;\nin it everything must present itself, even we ourselves. Accordingly,\nfirst of all, our life is like a payment which one receives in nothing but\ncopper pence, and yet must then give a discharge for: the copper pence are\nthe days; the discharge is death. For at last time makes known the\njudgment of nature concerning the work of all the beings which appear in\nit, in that it destroys them:\u2014\n\n\n    \u201cAnd rightly so, for all that arises\n    Is worthy only of being destroyed.\n    Hence were it better that nothing arose.\u201d\n\n\nThus old age and death, to which every life necessarily hurries on, are\nthe sentence of condemnation on the will to live, coming from the hands of\nnature itself, and which declares that this will is an effort which\nfrustrates itself. \u201cWhat thou hast wished,\u201d it says, \u201cends thus: desire\nsomething better.\u201d Hence the instruction which his life affords to every\none consists, as a whole, in this, that the objects of his desires\ncontinually delude, waver, and fall, and accordingly bring more misery\nthan joy, till at last the whole foundation upon which they all stand\ngives way, in that his life itself is destroyed and so he receives the\nlast proof that all his striving and wishing was a perversity, a false\npath:\u2014\n\n\n    \u201cThen old age and experience, hand in hand,\n    Lead him to death, and make him understand,\n    After a search so painful and so long,\n    That all his life he has been in the wrong.\u201d\n\n\nWe shall, however, enter into the details of the matter, for it is in\nthese views that I have met with most contradiction. First of all, I have\nto confirm by the following remarks the proof given in the text of the\nnegative nature of all satisfaction, thus of all pleasure and all\nhappiness, in opposition to the positive nature of pain.\n\nWe feel pain, but not painlessness; we feel care, but not the absence of\ncare; fear, but not security. We feel the wish as we feel hunger and\nthirst; but as soon as it has been fulfilled, it is like the mouthful that\nhas been taken, which ceases to exist for our feeling the moment it is\nswallowed. Pleasures and joys we miss painfully whenever they are wanting;\nbut pains, even when they cease after having long been present, are not\ndirectly missed, but at the most are intentionally thought of by means of\nreflection. For only pain and want can be felt positively, and therefore\nannounce themselves; well\u2010being, on the other hand, is merely negative.\nTherefore we do not become conscious of the three greatest blessings of\nlife, health, youth, and freedom, so long as we possess them, but only\nafter we have lost them; for they also are negations. We only observe that\ndays of our life were happy after they have given place to unhappy ones.\nIn proportion as pleasures increase, the susceptibility for them\ndecreases: what is customary is no longer felt as a pleasure. Just in this\nway, however, is the susceptibility for suffering increased, for the loss\nof what we are accustomed to is painfully felt. Thus the measure of what\nis necessary increases through possession, and thereby the capacity for\nfeeling pain. The hours pass the quicker the more agreeably they are\nspent, and the slower the more painfully they are spent; because pain, not\npleasure, is the positive, the presence of which makes itself felt. In the\nsame way we become conscious of time when we are bored, not when we are\ndiverted. Both these cases prove that our existence is most happy when we\nperceive it least, from which it follows that it would be better not to\nhave it. Great and lively joy can only be conceived as the consequence of\ngreat misery, which has preceded it; for nothing can be added to a state\nof permanent satisfaction but some amusement, or the satisfaction of\nvanity. Hence all poets are obliged to bring their heroes into anxious and\npainful situations, so that they may be able to free them from them.\nDramas and Epics accordingly always describe only fighting, suffering,\ntormented men; and every romance is a rareeshow in which we observe the\nspasms and convulsions of the agonised human heart. Walter Scott has\nna\u00efvely expressed this \u00e6sthetic necessity in the conclusion to his novel,\n\u201cOld Mortality.\u201d Voltaire, who was so highly favoured both by nature and\nfortune, says, in entire agreement with the truth proved by me: \u201c_Le\nbonheur n\u2019est qu\u2019un r\u00e8ve, et la douleur est r\u00e9elle_.\u201d And he adds: \u201c_Il y\na quatre\u2010vingts ans que je l\u2019\u00e9prouve. Je n\u2019y sais autre chose que me\nr\u00e9signer, et me dire que les mouches sont n\u00e9es pour \u00eatre mang\u00e9es par les\naraign\u00e9es, et les hommes pour \u00eatre d\u00e9vor\u00e9s par les chagrins._\u201d\n\nBefore so confidently affirming that life is a blessing worth desiring or\ngiving thanks for, let one compare calmly the sum of the possible\npleasures which a man can enjoy in his life with the sum of the possible\nsorrows which may come to him in his life. I believe the balance will not\nbe hard to strike. At bottom, however, it is quite superfluous to dispute\nwhether there is more good or evil in the world: for the mere existence of\nevil decides the matter. For the evil can never be annulled, and\nconsequently can never be balanced by the good which may exist along with\nit or after it.\n\n\n    \u201c_Mille piacer\u2019 non vagliono un tormento._\u201d\u2014Petr.\n    (A thousand pleasures are not worth one torment.)\n\n\nFor that a thousand had lived in happiness and pleasure would never do\naway with the anguish and death\u2010agony of a single one; and just as little\ndoes my present well\u2010being undo my past suffering. If, therefore, the\nevils in the world were a hundred times less than is the case, yet their\nmere existence would be sufficient to establish a truth which may be\nexpressed in different ways, though always somewhat indirectly, the truth\nthat we have not to rejoice but rather to mourn at the existence of the\nworld;\u2014that its non\u2010existence would be preferable to its existence;\u2014that\nit is something which at bottom ought not to be, &c., &c. Very beautiful\nis Byron\u2019s expression of this truth:\u2014\n\n\n    \u201c_Our life is a false nature_,\u2014\u2019tis not in\n    The harmony of things, this hard decree,\n    This uneradicable taint of sin,\n    This boundless Upas, this all\u2010blasting tree\n    Whose root is earth, whose leaves and branches be\n    The skies, which rain their plagues on men like dew\u2014\n    Disease, death, bondage\u2014all the woes we see\u2014\n    And worse, the woes we see not\u2014which throb through\n    The immedicable soul, with heart\u2010aches ever new.\u201d\n\n\nIf the world and life were an end in themselves, and accordingly required\ntheoretically no justification and practically no indemnification or\ncompensation, but existed, for instance, as Spinoza and the Spinozists of\nthe present day represent it, as the single manifestation of a God, who,\n_animi causa_, or else in order to mirror himself, undertook such an\nevolution of himself; and hence its existence neither required to be\njustified by reasons nor redeemed by results;\u2014then the sufferings and\nmiseries of life would not indeed have to be fully equalled by the\npleasures and well\u2010being in it; for this, as has been said, is impossible,\nbecause my present pain is never abolished by future joys, for the latter\nfill their time as the former fills its time: but there would have to be\nabsolutely no suffering, and death also would either have not to be, or\nelse to have no terrors for us. Only thus would life pay for itself.\n\nBut since now our state is rather something which had better not be,\neverything about us bears the trace of this,\u2014just as in hell everything\nsmells of sulphur\u2014for everything is always imperfect and illusory,\neverything agreeable is displaced by something disagreeable, every\nenjoyment is only a half one, every pleasure introduces its own\ndisturbance, every relief new difficulties, every aid of our daily and\nhourly need leaves us each moment in the lurch and denies its service, the\nstep upon which we place our foot so often gives way under us, nay,\nmisfortunes great and small are the element of our life; and, in a word,\nwe are like Phineus, whose food was all tainted and made uneatable by the\nharpies.(42) Two remedies for this are tried: first, \u03b5\u03c5\u03bb\u03b1\u03b2\u03b5\u03b9\u03b1, _i.e._,\nprudence, foresight, cunning; it does not fully instruct us, is\ninsufficient, and leads to defeat. Secondly, the stoical equanimity which\nseeks to arm us against all misfortunes by preparedness for everything and\ncontempt of all: practically it becomes cynical renunciation, which\nprefers once for all to reject all means of relief and all alleviations\u2014it\nreduces us to the position of dogs, like Diogenes in his tub. The truth\nis, we ought to be wretched, and we are so. The chief source of the\nserious evils which affect men is man himself: _homo homini lupus_.\nWhoever keeps this last fact clearly in view beholds the world as a hell,\nwhich surpasses that of Dante in this respect, that one man must be the\ndevil of another. For this, one is certainly more fitted than another; an\narch\u2010fiend, indeed, more fitted than all others, appearing in the form of\na conqueror, who places several hundred thousand men opposite each other,\nand says to them: \u201cTo suffer and die is your destiny; now shoot each other\nwith guns and cannons,\u201d and they do so.\n\nIn general, however, the conduct of men towards each other is\ncharacterised as a rule by injustice, extreme unfairness, hardness, nay,\ncruelty: an opposite course of conduct appears only as an exception. Upon\nthis depends the necessity of the State and legislation, and upon none of\nyour false pretences. But in all cases which do not lie within the reach\nof the law, that regardlessness of his like, peculiar to man, shows itself\nat once; a regardlessness which springs from his boundless egoism, and\nsometimes also from wickedness. How man deals with man is shown, for\nexample, by negro slavery, the final end of which is sugar and coffee. But\nwe do not need to go so far: at the age of five years to enter a cotton\u2010\nspinning or other factory, and from that time forth to sit there daily,\nfirst ten, then twelve, and ultimately fourteen hours, performing the same\nmechanical labour, is to purchase dearly the satisfaction of drawing\nbreath. But this is the fate of millions, and that of millions more is\nanalogous to it.\n\nWe others, however, can be made perfectly miserable by trifling\nmisfortunes; perfectly happy, not by the world. Whatever one may say, the\nhappiest moment of the happy man is the moment of his falling asleep, and\nthe unhappiest moment of the unhappy that of his awaking. An indirect but\ncertain proof of the fact that men feel themselves unhappy, and\nconsequently are so, is also abundantly afforded by the fearful envy which\ndwells in us all, and which in all relations of life, on the occasion of\nany superiority, of whatever kind it may be, is excited, and cannot\ncontain its poison. Because they feel themselves unhappy, men cannot\nendure the sight of one whom they imagine happy; he who for the moment\nfeels himself happy would like to make all around him happy also, and\nsays:\n\n\n    \u201c_Que tout le monde ici soit heureux de ma joie._\u201d\n\n\nIf life were in itself a blessing to be prized, and decidedly to be\npreferred to non\u2010existence, the exit from it would not need to be guarded\nby such fearful sentinels as death and its terrors. But who would continue\nin life as it is if death were less terrible? And again, who could even\nendure the thought of death if life were a pleasure! But thus the former\nhas still always this good, that it is the end of life, and we console\nourselves with regard to the suffering of life with death, and with regard\nto death with the suffering of life. The truth is, that the two\ninseparably belong to each other, for together they constitute a deviation\nfrom the right path, to return to which is as difficult as it is\ndesirable.\n\nIf the world were not something which, expressed _practically_, ought not\nto be, it would also not be _theoretically_ a problem; but its existence\nwould either require no explanation, inasmuch as it would be so entirely\nself\u2010evident that wonder concerning it or a question about it could arise\nin no mind, or its end would present itself unmistakably. Instead of this,\nhowever, it is indeed an insoluble problem; for even the most perfect\nphilosophy will yet always contain an unexplained element, like an\ninsoluble deposit or the remainder which the irrational relation of two\nquantities always leaves over. Therefore if one ventures to raise the\nquestion why there is not rather nothing than this world, the world cannot\nbe justified from itself, no ground, no final cause of its existence can\nbe found in itself, it cannot be shown that it exists for its own sake,\n_i.e._, for its own advantage. In accordance with my teaching, this can\ncertainly be explained from the fact that the principle of its existence\nis expressly one which is without ground, a blind will to live, which as\nthing in itself cannot be made subject to the principle of sufficient\nreason, which is merely the form of the phenomenon, and through which\nalone every why is justified. But this also agrees with the nature of the\nworld, for only a blind will, no seeing will, could place itself in the\nposition in which we behold ourselves. A seeing will would rather have\nsoon made the calculation that the business did not cover the cost, for\nsuch a mighty effort and struggle with the straining of all the powers,\nunder constant care, anxiety, and want, and with the inevitable\ndestruction of every individual life, finds no compensation in the\nephemeral existence itself, which is so obtained, and which passes into\nnothing in our hands. Hence, then, the explanation of the world from the\nAnaxagorean \u03bd\u03bf\u03c5\u03c2, _i.e._, from a will accompanied by _knowledge_,\nnecessarily demands optimism to excuse it, which accordingly is set up and\nmaintained in spite of the loudly crying evidence of a whole world full of\nmisery. Life is there given out to be a gift, while it is evident that\nevery one would have declined such a gift if he could have seen it and\ntested it beforehand; just as Lessing admired the understanding of his\nson, who, because he had absolutely declined to enter life, had to be\nforcibly brought into it with the forceps, but was scarcely there when he\nhurried away from it again. On the other hand, it is then well said that\nlife should be, from one end to the other, only a lesson; to which,\nhowever, any one might reply: \u201cFor this very reason I wish I had been left\nin the peace of the all\u2010sufficient nothing, where I would have had no need\nof lessons or of anything else.\u201d If indeed it should now be added that he\nmust one day give an account of every hour of his life, he would be more\njustified in himself demanding an account of why he had been transferred\nfrom that rest into such a questionable, dark, anxious, and painful\nsituation. To this, then, we are led by false views. For human existence,\nfar from bearing the character of a _gift_, has entirely the character of\na _debt_ that has been contracted. The calling in of this debt appears in\nthe form of the pressing wants, tormenting desires, and endless misery\nestablished through this existence. As a rule, the whole lifetime is\ndevoted to the paying off of this debt; but this only meets the interest.\nThe payment of the capital takes place through death. And when was this\ndebt contracted? At the begetting.\n\nAccordingly, if we regard man as a being whose existence is a punishment\nand an expiation, we then view him in a right light. The myth of the fall\n(although probably, like the whole of Judaism, borrowed from the Zend\u2010\nAvesta: Bundahish, 15), is the only point in the Old Testament to which I\ncan ascribe metaphysical, although only allegorical, truth; indeed it is\nthis alone that reconciles me to the Old Testament. Our existence\nresembles nothing so much as the consequence of a false step and a guilty\ndesire. New Testament Christianity, the ethical spirit of which is that of\nBrahmanism and Buddhism, and is therefore very foreign to the otherwise\noptimistic spirit of the Old Testament, has also, very wisely, linked\nitself on precisely to that myth: indeed, without this it would have found\nno point of connection with Judaism at all. If any one desires to measure\nthe degree of guilt with which our existence is tainted, then let him look\nat the suffering that is connected with it. Every great pain, whether\nbodily or mental, declares what we deserve: for it could not come to us if\nwe did not deserve it. That Christianity also regards our existence in\nthis light is shown by a passage in Luther\u2019s Commentary on Galatians,\nchap. 3, which I only have beside me in Latin: \u201c_Sumus autem nos omnes\ncorporibus et rebus subjecti Diabolo, et hospites sumus in mundo, cujus\nipse princeps et Deus est. Ideo panis, quem edimus, potus, quem bibimus,\nvestes, quibus utimur, imo a\u00ebr et totum quo vivimus in carne, sub ipsius\nimperio est._\u201d An outcry has been made about the melancholy and\ndisconsolate nature of my philosophy; yet it lies merely in the fact that\ninstead of inventing a future hell as the equivalent of sin, I show that\nwhere guilt lies in the world there is also already something akin to\nhell; but whoever is inclined to deny this can easily experience it.\n\nAnd to this world, to this scene of tormented and agonised beings, who\nonly continue to exist by devouring each other, in which, therefore, every\nravenous beast is the living grave of thousands of others, and its self\u2010\nmaintenance is a chain of painful deaths; and in which the capacity for\nfeeling pain increases with knowledge, and therefore reaches its highest\ndegree in man, a degree which is the higher the more intelligent the man\nis; to this world it has been sought to apply the system of optimism, and\ndemonstrate to us that it is the best of all possible worlds. The\nabsurdity is glaring. But an optimist bids me open my eyes and look at the\nworld, how beautiful it is in the sunshine, with its mountains and\nvalleys, streams, plants, animals, &c. &c. Is the world, then, a\nrareeshow? These things are certainly beautiful to _look at_, but to _be_\nthem is something quite different. Then comes a teleologist, and praises\nto me the wise arrangement by virtue of which it is taken care that the\nplanets do not run their heads together, that land and sea do not get\nmixed into a pulp, but are held so beautifully apart, also that everything\nis neither rigid with continual frost nor roasted with heat; in the same\nway, that in consequence of the obliquity of the ecliptic there is no\neternal spring, in which nothing could attain to ripeness, &c. &c. But\nthis and all like it are mere _conditiones sine quibus non_. If in general\nthere is to be a world at all, if its planets are to exist at least as\nlong as the light of a distant fixed star requires to reach them, and are\nnot, like Lessing\u2019s son, to depart again immediately after birth, then\ncertainly it must not be so clumsily constructed that its very framework\nthreatens to fall to pieces. But if one goes on to the results of this\napplauded work, considers the players who act upon the stage which is so\ndurably constructed, and now sees how with sensibility pain appears, and\nincreases in proportion as the sensibility develops to intelligence, and\nthen how, keeping pace with this, desire and suffering come out ever more\nstrongly, and increase till at last human life affords no other material\nthan this for tragedies and comedies, then whoever is honest will scarcely\nbe disposed to set up hallelujahs. David Hume, in his \u201cNatural History of\nReligion,\u201d \u00a7\u00a7 6, 7, 8, and 13, has also exposed, mercilessly but with\nconvincing truth, the real though concealed source of these last. He also\nexplains clearly in the tenth and eleventh books of his \u201cDialogues on\nNatural Religion,\u201d with very pertinent arguments, which are yet of quite a\ndifferent kind from mine, the miserable nature of this world and the\nuntenableness of all optimism; in doing which he attacks this in its\norigin. Both works of Hume\u2019s are as well worth reading as they are unknown\nat the present day in Germany, where, on the other hand, incredible\npleasure is found, patriotically, in the most disgusting nonsense of home\u2010\nbred boastful mediocrities, who are proclaimed great men. Hamann, however,\ntranslated these dialogues; Kant went through the translation, and late in\nlife wished to induce Hamann\u2019s son to publish them because the translation\nof Platner did not satisfy him (see Kant\u2019s biography by F. W. Schubert,\npp. 81 and 165). From every page of David Hume there is more to be learned\nthan from the collected philosophical works of Hegel, Herbart, and\nSchleiermacher together.\n\nThe founder of systematic optimism, again, is Leibnitz whose philosophical\nmerit I have no intention of denying although I have never succeeded in\nthinking myself into the monadology, pre\u2010established harmony, and\n_identitas indiscernibilium_. His \u201c_Nouveaux essays sur l\u2019entendement_\u201d\nare, however, merely an excerpt, with a full yet weak criticism, with a\nview to correction, of Locke\u2019s work which is justly of world\u2010wide\nreputation. He here opposes Locke with just as little success as he\nopposes Newton in the \u201c_Tentamen de motuum c\u0153lestium causis_,\u201d directed\nagainst the system of gravitation. The \u201cCritique of Pure Reason\u201d is\nspecially directed against this Leibnitz\u2010Wolfian philosophy, and has a\npolemical, nay, a destructive relation to it, just as it is related to\nLocke and Hume as a continuation and further construction. That at the\npresent day the professors of philosophy are on all sides engaged in\nsetting Leibnitz, with his juggling, upon his legs again, nay, in\nglorifying him, and, on the other hand, in depreciating and setting aside\nKant as much as possible, has its sufficient reason in the _primum\nvivere_; the \u201cCritique of Pure Reason\u201d does not admit of one giving out\nJudaistic mythology as philosophy, nor of one speaking, without ceremony,\nof the \u201csoul\u201d as a given reality, a well\u2010known and well\u2010accredited person,\nwithout giving account of how one arrived at this conception, and what\njustification one has for using it scientifically. But _primum vivere,\ndeinde philosophari_! Down with Kant, _vivat_ our Leibnitz! To return,\nthen, to Leibnitz, I cannot ascribe to the Th\u00e9odic\u00e9e, as a methodical and\nbroad unfolding of optimism, any other merit than this, that it gave\noccasion later for the immortal \u201c_Candide_\u201d of the great Voltaire; whereby\ncertainly Leibnitz\u2019s often\u2010repeated and lame excuse for the evil of the\nworld, that the bad sometimes brings about the good, received a\nconfirmation which was unexpected by him. Even by the name of his hero\nVoltaire indicates that it only requires sincerity to recognise the\nopposite of optimism. Really upon this scene of sin, suffering, and death\noptimism makes such an extraordinary figure that one would be forced to\nregard it as irony if one had not a sufficient explanation of its origin\nin the secret source of it (insincere flattery, with insulting confidence\nin its success), which, as was mentioned above, is so delightfully\ndisclosed by Hume.\n\nBut indeed to the palpably sophistical proofs of Leibnitz that this is the\nbest of all possible worlds, we may seriously and honestly oppose the\nproof that it is the worst of all possible worlds. For possible means, not\nwhat one may construct in imagination, but what can actually exist and\ncontinue. Now this world is so arranged as to be able to maintain itself\nwith great difficulty; but if it were a little worse, it could no longer\nmaintain itself. Consequently a worse world, since it could not continue\nto exist, is absolutely impossible: thus this world itself is the worst of\nall possible worlds. For not only if the planets were to run their heads\ntogether, but even if any one of the actually appearing perturbations of\ntheir course, instead of being gradually balanced by others, continued to\nincrease, the world would soon reach its end. Astronomers know upon what\naccidental circumstances\u2014principally the irrational relation to each other\nof the periods of revolution\u2014this depends, and have carefully calculated\nthat it will always go on well; consequently the world also can continue\nand go on. We will hope that, although Newton was of an opposite opinion,\nthey have not miscalculated, and consequently that the mechanical\nperpetual motion realised in such a planetary system will not also, like\nthe rest, ultimately come to a standstill. Again, under the firm crust of\nthe planet dwell the powerful forces of nature which, as soon as some\naccident affords them free play, must necessarily destroy that crust, with\neverything living upon it, as has already taken place at least three times\nupon our planet, and will probably take place oftener still. The\nearthquake of Lisbon, the earthquake of Haiti, the destruction of Pompeii,\nare only small, playful hints of what is possible. A small alteration of\nthe atmosphere, which cannot even be chemically proved, causes cholera,\nyellow fever, black death, &c., which carry off millions of men; a\nsomewhat greater alteration would extinguish all life. A very moderate\nincrease of heat would dry up all the rivers and springs. The brutes have\nreceived just barely so much in the way of organs and powers as enables\nthem to procure with the greatest exertion sustenance for their own lives\nand food for their offspring; therefore if a brute loses a limb, or even\nthe full use of one, it must generally perish. Even of the human race,\npowerful as are the weapons it possesses in understanding and reason,\nnine\u2010tenths live in constant conflict with want, always balancing\nthemselves with difficulty and effort upon the brink of destruction. Thus\nthroughout, as for the continuance of the whole, so also for that of each\nindividual being the conditions are barely and scantily given, but nothing\nover. The individual life is a ceaseless battle for existence itself;\nwhile at every step destruction threatens it. Just because this threat is\nso often fulfilled provision had to be made, by means of the enormous\nexcess of the germs, that the destruction of the individuals should not\ninvolve that of the species, for which alone nature really cares. The\nworld is therefore as bad as it possibly can be if it is to continue to be\nat all. _Q. E. D._ The fossils of the entirely different kinds of animal\nspecies which formerly inhabited the planet afford us, as a proof of our\ncalculation, the records of worlds the continuance of which was no longer\npossible, and which consequently were somewhat worse than the worst of\npossible worlds.\n\nOptimism is at bottom the unmerited self\u2010praise of the real originator of\nthe world, the will to live, which views itself complacently in its works;\nand accordingly it is not only a false, but also a pernicious doctrine.\nFor it presents life to us as a desirable condition, and the happiness of\nman as the end of it. Starting from this, every one then believes that he\nhas the most just claim to happiness and pleasure; and if, as is wont to\nhappen, these do not fall to his lot, then he believes that he is wronged,\nnay, that he loses the end of his existence; while it is far more correct\nto regard work, privation, misery, and suffering, crowned by death, as the\nend of our life (as Brahmanism and Buddhism, and also genuine Christianity\ndo); for it is these which lead to the denial of the will to live. In the\nNew Testament the world is represented as a valley of tears, life as a\nprocess of purifying or refining, and the symbol of Christianity is an\ninstrument of torture. Therefore, when Leibnitz, Shaftesbury, Bolingbroke,\nand Pope brought forward optimism, the general offence which it gave\ndepended principally upon the fact that optimism is irreconcilable with\nChristianity; as Voltaire states and explains in the preface to his\nexcellent poem, \u201c_Le d\u00e9sastre de Lisbonne_,\u201d which is also expressly\ndirected against optimism. This great man, whom I so gladly praise, in\nopposition to the abuse of venal German ink\u2010slingers, is placed decidedly\nhigher than Rousseau by the insight to which he attained in three\nrespects, and which prove the greater depth of his thinking: (1) the\nrecognition of the preponderating magnitude of the evil and misery of\nexistence with which he is deeply penetrated; (2) that of the strict\nnecessity of the acts of will; (3) that of the truth of Locke\u2019s principle,\nthat what thinks may also be material: while Rousseau opposes all this\nwith declamations in his \u201c_Profession de foi du vicaire Savoyard_,\u201d a\nsuperficial Protestant pastor\u2019s philosophy; as he also in the same spirit\nattacks the beautiful poem of Voltaire which has just been referred to\nwith ill\u2010founded, shallow, and logically false reasoning, in the interests\nof optimism, in his long letter to Voltaire of 18th August 1756, which is\ndevoted simply to this purpose. Indeed, the fundamental characteristic and\nthe \u03c0\u03c1\u03c9\u03c4\u03bf\u03bd \u03c8\u03b5\u03c5\u03b4\u03bf\u03c2 of Rousseau\u2019s whole philosophy is this, that in the\nplace of the Christian doctrine of original sin, and the original\ndepravity of the human race, he puts an original goodness and unlimited\nperfectibility of it, which has only been led astray by civilisation and\nits consequences, and then founds upon this his optimism and humanism.\n\nAs in \u201c_Candide_\u201d Voltaire wages war in his facetious manner against\noptimism, Byron has also done so in his serious and tragic style, in his\nimmortal masterpiece, \u201cCain,\u201d on account of which he also has been\nhonoured with the invectives of the obscurantist, Friedrich Schlegel. If\nnow, in conclusion, to confirm my view, I were to give what has been said\nby great men of all ages in this anti\u2010optimistic spirit, there would be no\nend to the quotations, for almost every one of them has expressed in\nstrong language his knowledge of the misery of this world. Thus, not to\nconfirm, but merely to embellish this chapter, a few quotations of this\nkind may be given at the end of it.\n\nFirst of all, let me mention here that the Greeks, far as they were from\nthe Christian and lofty Asiatic conception of the world, and although they\ndecidedly stood at the point of view of the assertion of the will, were\nyet deeply affected by the wretchedness of existence. This is shown even\nby the invention of tragedy, which belongs to them. Another proof of it is\nafforded us by the custom of the Thracians, which is first mentioned by\nHerodotus, though often referred to afterwards\u2014the custom of welcoming the\nnew\u2010born child with lamentations, and recounting all the evils which now\nlie before it; and, on the other hand, burying the dead with mirth and\njesting, because they are no longer exposed to so many and great\nsufferings. In a beautiful poem preserved for us by Plutarch (_De audiend.\npo\u00ebt. in fine_) this runs thus:\u2014\n\n\n    \u201c\u03a4\u03bf\u03bd \u03c6\u03c5\u03bd\u03c4\u03b1 \u03b8\u03c1\u03b7\u03bd\u03b5\u03b9\u03bd, \u03b5\u03b9\u03c2 \u1f41\u03c3\u1fbd \u03b5\u03c1\u03c7\u03b5\u03c4\u03b1\u03b9 \u03ba\u03b1\u03ba\u03b1\n    \u03a4\u03bf\u03bd \u03b4\u1fbd\u03b1\u03c5 \u03b8\u03b1\u03bd\u03bf\u03bd\u03c4\u03b1 \u03ba\u03b1\u03b9 \u03c0\u03bf\u03bd\u03c9\u03bd \u03c0\u03b5\u03c0\u03b1\u03c5\u03bc\u03b5\u03bd\u03bf\u03bd\n    \u03a7\u03b1\u03b9\u03c1\u03bf\u03bd\u03c4\u03b1\u03c2 \u03b5\u03c5\u03c6\u03b7\u03bc\u03bf\u03c5\u03bd\u03c4\u03b1\u03c2 \u03b5\u03ba\u03c0\u03b5\u03bc\u03c0\u03b5\u03b9\u03bd \u03b4\u03bf\u03bc\u03c9\u03bd.\u201d\n\n    (_Lugere genitum, tanta qui intrarit mala:_\n    _At morte si quis finiisset miserias,_\n    _Hunc laude amicos atque l\u00e6titia exsequi._)\n\n\nIt is not to be attributed to historical relationship, but to the moral\nidentity of the matter, that the Mexicans welcomed the new\u2010born child with\nthe words, \u201cMy child, thou art born to endure; therefore endure, suffer,\nand keep silence.\u201d And, following the same feeling, Swift (as Walter Scott\nrelates in his Life of Swift) early adopted the custom of keeping his\nbirthday not as a time of joy but of sadness, and of reading on that day\nthe passage of the Bible in which Job laments and curses the day on which\nit was said in the house of his father a man\u2010child is born.\n\nWell known and too long for quotation is the passage in the \u201cApology of\nSocrates,\u201d in which Plato makes this wisest of mortals say that death,\neven if it deprives us of consciousness for ever, would be a wonderful\ngain, for a deep, dreamless sleep every day is to be preferred even to the\nhappiest life.\n\nA saying of Heraclitus runs: \u201c\u03a4\u1ff3 \u03bf\u03c5\u03bd \u03b2\u03b9\u1ff3 \u03bf\u03bd\u03bf\u03bc\u03b1 \u03bc\u03b5\u03bd \u03b2\u03b9\u03bf\u03c2, \u03b5\u03c1\u03b3\u03bf\u03bd \u03b4\u03b5\n\u03b8\u03b1\u03bd\u03b1\u03c4\u03bf\u03c2.\u201d (_Vit\u00e6 nomen quidem est vita, opus autem mors. Etymologicum\nmagnum, voce_ \u0392\u03b9\u03bf\u03c2; also _Eustath. ad Iliad._, i. p. 31.)\n\nThe beautiful lines of the \u201cTheogony\u201d are famous:\u2014\n\n\n    \u201c\u0391\u03c1\u03c7\u03b7\u03bd \u03bc\u03b5\u03bd \u03bc\u03b7 \u03c6\u03c5\u03bd\u03b1\u03b9 \u03b5\u03c0\u03b9\u03c7\u03b8\u03bf\u03bd\u03b9\u03bf\u03b9\u03c3\u03b9\u03bd \u03b1\u03c1\u03b9\u03c3\u03c4\u03bf\u03bd,\n    \u039c\u03b7\u03b4\u1fbd \u03b5\u03b9\u03c3\u03b9\u03b4\u03b5\u03b9\u03bd \u03b1\u03c5\u03b3\u03b1\u03c2 \u03bf\u03be\u03b5\u03bf\u03c2 \u1f21\u03b5\u03bb\u03b9\u03bf\u03c5;\n      \u03a6\u03c5\u03bd\u03c4\u03b1 \u03b4\u1fbd \u1f41\u03c0\u03c9\u03c2 \u03c9\u03ba\u03b9\u03c3\u03c4\u03b1 \u03c0\u03c5\u03bb\u03b1\u03c2 \u0391\u03ca\u03b4\u03b1\u03bf \u03c0\u03b5\u03c1\u03b7\u03c3\u03b1\u03b9,\n      \u039a\u03b1\u03b9 \u03ba\u03b5\u03b9\u03c3\u03b8\u03b1\u03b9 \u03c0\u03bf\u03bb\u03bb\u03b7\u03bd \u03b3\u03b7\u03bd \u03b5\u03c0\u03b1\u03bc\u03b7\u03c3\u03b1\u03bc\u03b5\u03bd\u03bf\u03bd.\u201d\n\n    (_Optima sors homini natum non esse, nec unquam._\n    _Adspexisse diem, flammiferumque jubar._\n    _Altera jam genitum demitti protinus Orco,_\n    _Et pressum multa mergere corpus humo._)\n\n\nSophocles, in \u201c\u0152dipus Colonus\u201d (1225), has the following abbreviation of\nthe same:\u2014\n\n\n    \u201c\u039c\u03b7 \u03c6\u03c5\u03bd\u03b1\u03b9 \u03c4\u03bf\u03bd \u1f01\u03c0\u03b1\u03bd\u03c4\u03b1 \u03bd\u03b9\u03ba\u03b1\n    \u03bb\u03bf\u03b3\u03bf\u03bd; \u03c4\u03bf \u03b4\u1fbd \u03b5\u03c0\u03b5\u03b9 \u03c6\u03b1\u03bd\u1fc3,\n    \u03b2\u03b7\u03bd\u03b1\u03b9 \u03ba\u03b5\u03b9\u03b8\u03b5\u03bd, \u1f41\u03b8\u03b5\u03bd \u03c0\u03b5\u03c1 \u1f21\u03ba\u03b5\u03b9,\n    \u03c0\u03bf\u03bb\u03c5 \u03b4\u03b5\u03c5\u03c4\u03b5\u03c1\u03bf\u03bd, \u1f61\u03c2 \u03c4\u03b1\u03c7\u03b9\u03c3\u03c4\u03b1.\u201d\n\n    (_Natum non esse sortes vincit alias omnes: proxima autem est, ubi\n    quis in lucem editus fuerit, eodem redire, unde venit, quam\n    ocissime._)\n\n\nEuripides says:\u2014\n\n\n    \u201c\u03a0\u03b1\u03c2 \u03b4\u1fbd\u03bf\u03b4\u03c5\u03bd\u03b7\u03c1\u03bf\u03c2 \u03b2\u03b9\u03bf\u03c2 \u03b1\u03bd\u03b8\u03c1\u03c9\u03c0\u03c9\u03bd,\n    \u039a\u1fbd\u03bf\u03c5\u03ba \u03b5\u03c3\u03c4\u03b9 \u03c0\u03bf\u03bd\u03c9\u03bd \u03b1\u03bd\u03b1\u03c0\u03b1\u03c5\u03c3\u03b9\u03c2.\u201d\n\n    (_Omnis hominum vita est plena dolore,_\n    _Nec datur laborum remissio._)\n\n    \u2014HIPPOL, 189.\n\n\nAnd Homer already said:\u2014\n\n\n    \u201c\u039f\u03c5 \u03bc\u03b5\u03bd \u03b3\u03b1\u03c1 \u03c4\u03b9 \u03b5\u03c3\u03c4\u03b9\u03bd \u03bf\u03ca\u03b6\u03c5\u03c1\u03c9\u03c4\u03b5\u03c1\u03bf\u03bd \u03b1\u03bd\u03b4\u03c1\u03bf\u03c2\n    \u03a0\u03b1\u03bd\u03c4\u03c9\u03bd, \u1f41\u03c3\u03c3\u03b1 \u03b4\u03b5 \u03b3\u03b1\u03b9\u03b1\u03bd \u03b5\u03c0\u03b9 \u03c0\u03bd\u03b5\u03b5\u03b9 \u03c4\u03b5 \u03ba\u03b1\u03b9 \u1f11\u03c1\u03c0\u03b5\u03b9.\u201d\n\n    (_Non enim quidquam alicubi est calamitosius homine_\n    _Omnium, quotquot super terram spirantque et moventur._)\n\n    \u2014II. xvii. 446.\n\n\nEven Pliny says: \u201c_Quapropter hoc primum quisque in remediis animi sui\nhabeat, ex omnibus bonis, qu\u00e6 homini natura tribuit, nullum melius esse\ntempestiva morte_\u201d (_Hist. Nat._ 28, 2).\n\nShakspeare puts the words in the mouth of the old king Henry IV.:\u2014\n\n\n    \u201cO heaven! that one might read the book of fate,\n    And see the revolution of the times,\n    ... how chances mock,\n    And changes fill the cup of alteration\n    With divers liquors! O, if this were seen,\n    The happiest youth,\u2014viewing his progress through,\n    What perils past, what crosses to ensue,\u2014\n    Would shut the book, and sit him down and die.\u201d\n\n\nFinally, Byron:\u2014\n\n\n    \u201cCount o\u2019er the joys thine hours have seen,\n      Count o\u2019er thy days from anguish free,\n    And know, whatever thou hast been,\n      \u2019Tis something better not to be.\u201d\n\n\nBaltazar Gracian also brings the misery of our existence before our eyes\nin the darkest colours in the \u201cCriticon,\u201d Parte i., Crisi 5, just at the\nbeginning, and Crisi 7 at the end, where he explicitly represents life as\na tragic farce.\n\nYet no one has so thoroughly and exhaustively handled this subject as, in\nour own day, Leopardi. He is entirely filled and penetrated by it: his\ntheme is everywhere the mockery and wretchedness of this existence; he\npresents it upon every page of his works, yet in such a multiplicity of\nforms and applications, with such wealth of imagery that he never wearies\nus, but, on the contrary, is throughout entertaining and exciting.\n\n\n\n\nChapter XLVII.(43) On Ethics.\n\n\nHere is the great gap which occurs in these supplements, on account of the\ncircumstance that I have already dealt with moral philosophy in the\nnarrower sense in the two prize essays published under the title, \u201c_Die\nGrundprobleme der Ethik_,\u201d an acquaintance with which is assumed, as I\nhave said, in order to avoid useless repetition. Therefore there only\nremains for me here a small gleaning of isolated reflections which could\nnot be discussed in that work, the contents of which were, in the main,\nprescribed by the Academies; least of all those reflections which demand a\nhigher point of view than that which is common to all, and which I was\nthere obliged to adhere to. Accordingly it will not surprise the reader to\nfind these reflections here in a very fragmentary collection. This\ncollection again has been continued in the eighth and ninth chapters of\nthe second volume of the Parerga.\n\nThat moral investigations are incomparably more difficult than physical,\nand in general than any others, results from the fact that they are almost\nimmediately concerned with the thing in itself, namely, with that\nmanifestation of it in which, directly discovered by the light of\nknowledge, it reveals its nature as _will_. Physical truths, on the other\nhand, remain entirely in the province of the idea, _i.e._, of the\nphenomenon, and merely show how the lowest manifestations of the will\npresent themselves in the idea in conformity to law. Further, the\nconsideration of the world from the _physical_ side, however far and\nsuccessfully it may be pursued, is in its results without any consolation\nfor us: on the _moral_ side alone is consolation to be found; for here the\ndepths of our own inner nature disclose themselves to the consideration.\n\nBut my philosophy is the only one which confers upon ethics its complete\nand whole rights; for only if the true nature of man is his own _will_,\nand consequently he is, in the strictest sense, his own work, are his\ndeeds really entirely his and to be ascribed to him. On the other hand,\nwhenever he has another origin, or is the work of a being different from\nhimself, all his guilt falls back upon this origin, or originator. For\n_operari sequitur esse_.\n\nTo connect the force which produces the phenomenon of the world, and\nconsequently determines its nature, with the morality of the disposition\nor character, and thus to establish a _moral_ order of the world as the\nfoundation of the _physical_,\u2014this has been since Socrates the problem of\nphilosophy. Theism solved it in a childish manner, which could not satisfy\nmature humanity. Therefore pantheism opposed itself to it whenever it\nventured to do so, and showed that nature bears in itself the power by\nvirtue of which it appears. With this, however, ethics had necessarily to\nbe given up. Spinoza, indeed, attempts here and there to preserve it by\nmeans of sophistry, but for the most part gives it up altogether, and,\nwith a boldness which excites astonishment and repugnance, explains the\ndistinction between right and wrong, and in general between good and evil,\nas merely conventional, thus in itself empty (for example, _Eth._ iv.,\nprop. 37, schol. 2). After having met with unmerited neglect for more than\na hundred years, Spinoza has, in general, become too much esteemed in this\ncentury through the reaction caused by the swing of the pendulum of\nopinion. All pantheism must ultimately be overthrown by the inevitable\ndemands of ethics, and then by the evil and suffering of the world. If the\nworld is a theophany, then all that man, or even the brute, does is\nequally divine and excellent; nothing can be censurable, and nothing more\npraiseworthy than the rest: thus there is no ethics. Hence, in consequence\nof the revived Spinozism of our own day, thus of pantheism, the treatment\nof ethics has sunk so low and become so shallow that it has been made a\nmere instruction as to the proper life of a citizen and a member of a\nfamily, in which the ultimate end of human existence is supposed to\nconsist: thus in methodical, complete, smug, and comfortable philistinism.\nPantheism, indeed, has only led to such shallow vulgarisms through the\nfact that (by a shameful misuse of the _e quovis ligno fit Mercurius_) a\ncommon mind, Hegel, has, by the well\u2010known means, been falsely stamped as\na great philosopher, and a herd of his disciples, at first suborned,\nafterwards only stupid, received his weighty words. Such outrages on the\nhuman mind do not remain unpunished: the seed has sprouted. In the same\nspirit it was then asserted that ethics should have for its material not\nthe conduct of individuals, but that of nations, that this alone was a\ntheme worthy of it. Nothing can be more perverse than this view, which\nrests on the most vulgar realism. For in every individual appears the\nwhole undivided will to live, the thing in itself, and the microcosm is\nlike the macrocosm. The masses have no more content than each individual.\nEthics is concerned not with actions and their results, but with willing,\nand willing itself takes place only in the individual. Not the fate of\nnations, which exists only in the phenomenon, but that of the individual\nis decided _morally_. Nations are really mere abstractions; individuals\nalone actually exist. Thus, then, is pantheism related to ethics. But the\nevil and misery of the world are not in accord even with theism; hence it\nsought assistance from all kinds of evasions, theodicies, which yet were\nirretrievably overthrown by the arguments of Hume and Voltaire. Pantheism,\nhowever, is completely untenable in the presence of that bad side of the\nworld. Only when the world is regarded entirely from without and from the\n_physical_ side alone, and nothing else is kept in view but the constant\nrestorative order, and the comparative imperishableness of the whole which\nis thereby introduced, is it perhaps possible to explain it as a god, yet\nalways only symbolically. But if one enters within, thus considers also\nthe _subjective_ and _moral_ side, with its preponderance of want,\nsuffering, and misery, of dissension, wickedness, madness, and perversity,\nthen one soon becomes conscious with horror that the last thing imaginable\none has before one is a theophany. I, however, have shown, and especially\nin my work \u201c_Ueber den Willen in der Natur_\u201d have proved, that the force\nwhich works and acts in nature is identical with the will in us. Thereby\nthe moral order of the world is brought into direct connection with the\nforce which produces the phenomenon of the world. For the phenomenon of\nthe will must exactly correspond to its nature. Upon this depends the\nexposition of eternal justice given in \u00a7\u00a7 63 and 64 of the first volume,\nand the world, although subsisting by its own power, receives throughout a\n_moral_ tendency. Accordingly the problem which has been discussed from\nthe time of Socrates is now for the first time really solved, and the\ndemand of thinking reason directed to morality is satisfied. Yet I have\nnever professed to propound a philosophy which leaves no questions\nunanswered. In this sense philosophy is really impossible: it would be the\nscience of omniscience. But _est quadam prodire tenus, si non datur\nultra_: there is a limit to which reflection can penetrate and can so far\nlighten the night of our existence, although the horizon always remains\ndark. My doctrine reaches this limit in the will to live, which in its own\nmanifestation asserts or denies itself. To wish, however, to go beyond\nthis is, in my eyes, like wishing to fly beyond the atmosphere. We must\nstop there; even although new problems arise out of those which have been\nsolved. Besides this, however, we must refer to the fact that the validity\nof the principle of sufficient reason is limited to the phenomenon; this\nwas the theme of my first essay on that principle, which was published as\nearly as 1813.\n\nI now go on to supplement particular points, and shall begin by\nsupporting, with two passages from classical poetry, my explanation of\nweeping given in \u00a7 67 of the first volume, that it springs from sympathy\nthe object of which is one\u2019s own self. At the end of the eighth book of\nthe \u201cOdyssey,\u201d Ulysses, who in all his many sorrows is never represented\nas weeping, bursts into tears, when, still unknown, he hears his early\nheroic life and deeds sung by the bard Demodocus in the palace of the\nPh\u00e6acian king, for this remembrance of the brilliant period of his life\ncontrasts with his present wretchedness. Thus not this itself directly,\nbut the objective consideration of it, the picture of his present summoned\nup by his past, calls forth his tears; he feels sympathy with himself.\nEuripides makes the innocently condemned Hypolytus, bemoaning his own\nfate, express the same feeling:\n\n\n    \u201c\u03a6\u03b5\u03c5 \u03b5\u03b9\u03b8\u1fbd \u03b7\u03bd \u03b5\u03bc\u03b1\u03c5\u03c4\u03bf\u03bd \u03c0\u03c1\u03bf\u03c3\u03b2\u03bb\u03b5\u03c0\u03b5\u03b9\u03bd \u03b5\u03bd\u03b1\u03bd\u03c4\u03b9\u03bf\u03bd\n    \u03c3\u03c4\u03b1\u03bd\u03b8\u1fbd, \u1f61\u03c2 \u03b5\u03b4\u03b1\u03ba\u03c1\u03c5\u03c2\u1fbd, \u1f41\u03b9\u03b1 \u03c0\u03b1\u03c3\u03c7\u03bf\u03bc\u03b5\u03bd \u03ba\u03b1\u03ba\u03b1\u201d (1084).\n\n    (_Heu, si liceret mihi, me ipsum extrinsecus spectare, quantopere\n    deflerem mala, qu\u00e6 patior._)\n\n\nFinally, as a proof of my explanation, an anecdote may be given here which\nI take from the English journal _The Herald_ of the 16th July 1836. A\nclient, when he had heard his case set forth by his counsel in court,\nburst into a flood of tears, and cried, \u201cI never knew I had suffered half\nso much till I heard it here to\u2010day.\u201d\n\nI have shown in \u00a7 55 of the first volume how, notwithstanding the\nunalterable nature of the character, _i.e._, of the special fundamental\nwill of a man, a real moral repentance is yet possible. I wish, however,\nto add the following explanation, which I must preface by a few\ndefinitions. _Inclination_ is every strong susceptibility of the will for\nmotives of a certain kind. _Passion_ is an inclination so strong that the\nmotives which excite it exercise a power over the will, which is stronger\nthan that of every possible motive that can oppose them; thus its mastery\nover the will becomes absolute, and consequently with reference to it the\nwill is _passive_ or _suffering_. It must, however, be remarked here that\npassions seldom reach the degree at which they fully answer to the\ndefinition, but rather bear their name as mere approximations to it:\ntherefore there are then still counter\u2010motives which are able at least to\nrestrict their effect, if only they appear distinctly in consciousness.\nThe _emotion_ is just as irresistible, but yet only a passing excitement\nof the will, by a motive which receives its power, not from a deeply\nrooted inclination, but merely from the fact that, appearing suddenly, it\nexcludes for the moment the counter\u2010effect of all other motives, for it\nconsists of an idea, which completely obscures all others by its excessive\nvividness, or, as it were, conceals them entirely by its too close\nproximity, so that they cannot enter consciousness and act on the will,\nwhereby, therefore, the capacity for reflection, and with it _intellectual\nfreedom_, is to a certain extent abolished. Accordingly the emotion is\nrelated to the passion as delirium to madness.\n\nMoral repentance is now conditioned by the fact that before the act the\ninclination to it did not leave the intellect free scope, because it did\nnot allow it to contemplate clearly and fully the counter\u2010motives, but\nrather turned it ever anew to the motives in its own favour. But now,\nafter the act has been performed, these motives are, by this itself,\nneutralised, and consequently have become ineffective. Now reality brings\nbefore the intellect the counter\u2010motives as the consequences of the act\nwhich have already appeared; and the intellect now knows that they would\nhave been the stronger if it had only adequately contemplated and weighed\nthem. Thus the man becomes conscious that he has done what was really not\nin accordance with his will. This knowledge is repentance, for he has not\nacted with full intellectual freedom; for all the motives did not attain\nto efficiency. What excluded the motives opposed to the action was in the\ncase of the hasty action the emotion, and in the case of the deliberate\naction the passion. It has also often depended upon the circumstance that\nhis reason certainly presented to him the counter\u2010motives in the abstract,\nbut was not supported by a sufficiently strong imagination to present to\nhim their whole content and true significance in images. Examples of what\nhas been said are the cases in which revenge, jealousy, or avarice have\nled to murder. After it is committed they are extinguished, and now\njustice, sympathy, the remembrance of former friendship, raise their\nvoices and say all that they would have said before if they had been\nallowed to speak. Then enters the bitter repentance, which says, \u201cIf it\nwere not done it would never happen.\u201d An incomparable representation of\nthis is afforded by the old Scottish ballad, which has also been\ntranslated by Herder, \u201cEdward, Edward.\u201d In an analogous manner, the\nneglect of one\u2019s own good may occasion an egotistical repentance. For\nexample, when an otherwise unadvisable marriage is concluded in\nconsequence of passionate love, which now is extinguished just by the\nmarriage, and for the first time the counter\u2010motives of personal interest,\nlost independence, &c., &c., come into consciousness, and speak as they\nwould have spoken before if they had been allowed utterance. All such\nactions accordingly spring from a relative weakness of intellect, because\nit lets itself be mastered by the will, just where its function as the\npresenter of motives ought to have been inexorably fulfilled, without\nallowing itself to be disturbed by the will. The vehemence of the will is\nhere only _indirectly_ the cause, in that it interferes with the\nintellect, and thereby prepares for itself repentance. The\n_reasonableness_ of the character \u03c3\u03c9\u03c6\u03c1\u03bf\u03c3\u03c5\u03bd\u03b7, which is opposed to\npassionateness, really consists in this, that the will never overpowers\nthe intellect to such an extent as to prevent it from correctly exercising\nits function of the distinct, full, and clear exposition of the motives in\nthe abstract for the reason, in the concrete for the imagination. Now this\nmay just as well depend upon the moderation and mildness of the will as\nupon the strength of the intellect. All that is required is that the\nlatter should be _relatively_ strong enough for the will that is present,\nthus that the two should stand in a suitable relation to each other.\n\nThe following explanations have still to be added to the fundamental\ncharacteristics of the philosophy of law expounded in \u00a7 62 of the first\nvolume, and also in my prize essay on the foundation of morals, \u00a7 17.\n\nThose who, with Spinoza, deny that there is a right apart from the State,\nconfound the means for enforcing the right with the right itself.\nCertainly the right is insured protection only in the State. But it itself\nexists independently of the State. For by force it can only be suppressed,\nnever abolished. Accordingly the State is nothing more than an institution\nfor protection, which has become necessary through the manifold attacks to\nwhich man is exposed, and which he would not be able to ward off alone,\nbut only in union with others. So, then, the aims of the State are\u2014\n\n(1.) First of all, outward protection, which may just as well become\nneedful against lifeless forces of nature or wild beasts as against men,\nconsequently against other nations; although this case is the most\nfrequent and important, for the worst enemy of man is man: _homo homini\nlupus_. Since, in consequence of this aim, nations always set up the\nprinciple, in words if not with deeds, that they wish to stand to each\nother in a purely defensive, never in an aggressive relation, they\nrecognise _the law of nations_. This is at bottom nothing but natural law,\nin the only sphere of its practical activity that remains to it, between\nnation and nation, where it alone must reign, because its stronger son,\npositive law, cannot assert itself, since it requires a judge and an\nexecutive. Accordingly the law of nations consists of a certain degree of\nmorality in the dealings of nations with each other, the maintenance of\nwhich is a question of honour for mankind. The bar at which cases based on\nthis law are tried is that of public opinion.\n\n(2.) Protection within, thus protection of the members of a State against\neach other, consequently security of private right, by means of the\nmaintenance of an honest state of things, which consists in this, that the\nconcentrated forces of all protect each individual, from which arises an\nappearance as if all were honest, _i.e._, just, thus as if no one wished\nto injure the others.\n\nBut, as is always the way in human affairs, the removal of one evil\ngenerally opens the way for a new one; thus the granting of that double\nprotection introduces the need of a third, namely: (3.) Protection against\nthe protector, _i.e._, against him or those to whom the society has\ntransferred the management of the protection, thus the guarantee of public\nright. This appears most completely attainable by dividing and separating\nfrom each other the threefold unity of the protective power, thus the\nlegislature, the judicature, and the executive, so that each is managed by\nothers, and independently of the rest. The great value, indeed the\nfundamental idea of the monarchy appears to me to lie in the fact that\nbecause men remain men one must be placed so high, and so much power,\nwealth, security, and absolute inviolability given him that there remains\nnothing for him to desire, to hope, and to fear for himself; whereby the\negoism which dwells in him, as in every one, is annihilated, as it were,\nby neutralisation, and he is now able, as if he were no longer a man, to\npractise justice, and to keep in view no longer his own but only the\npublic good. This is the source of the seemingly superhuman nature that\neverywhere accompanies royalty, and distinguishes it so infinitely from\nthe mere presidency. Therefore it must also be hereditary, not elective;\npartly in order that no one may see his equal in the king; partly that the\nking himself may only be able to provide for his successors by caring for\nthe welfare of the State, which is absolutely one with that of his family.\n\nIf other ends besides that of protection, here explained, are ascribed to\nthe State, this may easily endanger the true end.\n\nAccording to my explanation, the right of property arises only through the\nexpenditure of labour upon things. This truth, which has already often\nbeen expressed, finds a noteworthy confirmation in the fact that it is\nasserted, even in a practical regard, in a declaration of the American ex\u2010\npresident, Quincey Adams, which is to be found in the _Quarterly Review_\nof 1840, No. 130; and also in French, in the \u201c_Biblioth\u00e8que universelle de\nGen\u00eave_,\u201d July 1840, No. 55. I will give it here in German (English of\n_Quarterly Review_): \u201cThere are moralists who have questioned the right of\nthe Europeans to intrude upon the possessions of the aboriginals in any\ncase, and under any limitations whatsoever; but have they maturely\nconsidered the whole subject? The Indian right of possession itself\nstands, with regard to the greatest part of the country, upon a\n_questionable_ foundation. Their cultivated fields, their constructed\nhabitations, a space of ample sufficiency for their subsistence, and\nwhatever they had annexed of themselves by personal labour, was\nundoubtedly by the laws of nature theirs. But what is the right of a\nhuntsman to the forest of a thousand miles over which he has accidentally\nranged in quest of prey?\u201d &c. In the same way, those who in our own day\nhave seen occasion to combat communism with reasons (for example, the\nArchbishop of Paris, in his pastoral of June 1851) have always brought\nforward the argument that property is the result of work, as it were only\nembodied work. This is further evidence that the right of property can\nonly be established by the application of work to things, for only in this\nrespect does it find free recognition and make itself morally valid.\n\nAn entirely different kind of proof of the same truth is afforded by the\nmoral fact that while the law punishes poaching just as severely as theft,\nand in many countries more severely, yet civil honour, which is\nirrevocably lost by the latter, is really not affected by the former; but\nthe poacher, if he has been guilty of nothing else, is certainly tainted\nwith a fault, but yet is not regarded, like the thief, as dishonourable\nand shunned by all. For the principles of civil honour rest upon moral and\nnot upon mere positive law; but game is not an object upon which labour is\nbestowed, and thus also is not an object of a morally valid possession:\nthe right to it is therefore entirely a positive one, and is not morally\nrecognised.\n\nAccording to my view, the principle ought to lie at the basis of criminal\nlaw that it is not really the man but only the deed which is punished, in\norder that it may not recur. The criminal is merely the subject in whom\nthe deed is punished, in order that the law in consequence of which the\npunishment is inflicted may retain its deterrent power. This is the\nmeaning of the expression, \u201cHe is forfeited to the law.\u201d According to\nKant\u2019s explanation, which amounts to a _jus talionis_, it is not the deed\nbut the man that is punished. The penitentiary system also seeks not so\nmuch to punish the deed as the man, in order to reform him. It thereby\nsets aside the real aim of punishment, determent from the deed, in order\nto attain the very problematic end of reformation. But it is always a\ndoubtful thing to attempt to attain two different ends by _one_ means: how\nmuch more so if the two are in any sense opposite ends. Education is a\nbenefit, punishment ought to be an evil; the penitentiary prison is\nsupposed to accomplish both at once. Moreover, however large a share\nuntutored ignorance, combined with outward distress, may have in many\ncrimes, yet we dare not regard these as their principal cause, for\ninnumerable persons living in the same ignorance and under absolutely\nsimilar circumstances commit no crimes. Thus the substance of the matter\nfalls back upon the personal, moral character; but this, as I have shown\nin my prize essay on the freedom of the will, is absolutely unalterable.\nTherefore moral reformation is really not possible, but only determent\nfrom the deed through fear. At the same time, the correction of knowledge\nand the awakening of the desire to work can certainly be attained; it will\nappear what effect this can produce. Besides this, it appears to me, from\nthe aim of punishment set forth in the text, that, when possible, the\napparent severity of the punishment should exceed the actual: but solitary\nconfinement achieves the reverse. Its great severity has no witnesses, and\nis by no means anticipated by any one who has not experienced it; thus it\ndoes not deter. It threatens him who is tempted to crime by want and\nmisery with the opposite pole of human suffering, ennui: but, as Goethe\nrightly observes\u2014\n\n\n    \u201cWhen real affliction is our lot,\n    Then do we long for ennui.\u201d\n\n\nThe contemplation of it will deter him just as little as the sight of the\npalatial prisons which are built by honest men for rogues. If, however, it\nis desired that these penitentiary prisons should be regarded as\neducational institutions, then it is to be regretted that the entrance to\nthem is only obtained by crimes, instead of which it ought to have\npreceded them.\n\nThat punishment, as Beccaria has taught, ought to bear a proper proportion\nto the crime does not depend upon the fact that it would be an expiation\nof it, but rather on the fact that the pledge ought to be proportionate to\nthe value of that for which it answers. Therefore every one is justified\nin demanding the pledge of the life of another as a guarantee for the\nsecurity of his own life, but not for the security of his property, for\nwhich the freedom, and so forth, of another is sufficient pledge. For the\nsecurity of the life of the citizens capital punishment is therefore\nabsolutely necessary. Those who wish to abolish it should be answered,\n\u201cFirst remove murder from the world, and then capital punishment ought to\nfollow.\u201d It ought also to be inflicted for the clear attempt to murder\njust as for murder itself; for the law desires to punish the deed, not to\nrevenge its consequences. In general the injury to be guarded against\naffords the right measure for the punishment which is to be threatened,\nbut it does not give the moral baseness of the forbidden action. Therefore\nthe law may rightly impose the punishment of imprisonment for allowing a\nflower\u2010pot to fall from a window, or impose hard labour for smoking in the\nwoods during the summer, and yet permit it in the winter. But to impose\nthe punishment of death, as in Poland, for shooting an ure\u2010ox is too much,\nfor the maintenance of the species of ure\u2010oxen may not be purchased with\nhuman life. In determining the measure of the punishment, along with the\nmagnitude of the injury to be guarded against, we have to consider the\nstrength of the motives which impel to the forbidden action. Quite a\ndifferent standard of punishment would be established if expiation,\nretribution, _jus talionis_, were its true ground. But the criminal code\nought to be nothing but a register of counter\u2010motives for possible\ncriminal actions: therefore each of these motives must decidedly outweigh\nthe motives which lead to these actions, and indeed so much the more the\ngreater the evil is which would arise from the action to be guarded\nagainst, the stronger the temptation to it, and the more difficult the\nconviction of the criminal;\u2014always under the correct assumption that the\nwill is not free, but determinable by motives;\u2014apart from this it could\nnot be got at at all. So much for the philosophy of law.\n\nIn my prize essay on the freedom of the will (p. 50 _seq._) I have proved\nthe originality and unalterableness of the inborn character, from which\nthe moral content of the course of life proceeds. It is established as a\nfact. But in order to understand problems in their full extent it is\nsometimes necessary to oppose opposites sharply to each other. In this\ncase, then, let one recall how incredibly great is the inborn difference\nbetween man and man, in a moral and in an intellectual regard. Here\nnobleness and wisdom; there wickedness and stupidity. In one the goodness\nof the heart shines out of the eyes, or the stamp of genius is enthroned\nin his countenance. The base physiognomy of another is the impression of\nmoral worthlessness and intellectual dulness, imprinted by the hands of\nnature itself, unmistakable and ineradicable; he looks as if he must be\nashamed of existence. But to this outward appearance the inner being\nreally corresponds. We cannot possibly assume that such differences, which\ntransform the whole being of the man, and which nothing can abolish,\nwhich, further, in conflict with his circumstances, determine his course\nof life, could exist without guilt or merit on the part of those affected\nby them, and be merely the work of chance. Even from this it is evident\nthat the man must be in a certain sense his own work. But now, on the\nother hand, we can show the source of these differences empirically in the\nnature of the parents; and besides this, the meeting and connection of\nthese parents has clearly been the work of the most accidental\ncircumstances. By such considerations, then, we are forcibly directed to\nthe distinction between the phenomenon and the true being of things, which\nalone can contain the solution of that problem. The thing in itself only\nreveals itself by means of the forms of the phenomenon; therefore what\nproceeds from the thing in itself must yet appear in those forms, thus\nalso in the bonds of causality. Accordingly it will present itself to us\nhere as a mysterious and incomprehensible guidance of things, of which the\nexternal empirical connection would be the mere tool. Yet all that happens\nappears in this empirical connection introduced by causes, thus\nnecessarily and determined from without, while its true ground lies in the\ninner nature of what thus manifests itself. Certainly we can here see the\nsolution of the problem only from afar, and when we reflect upon it we\nfall into an abyss of thought\u2014as Hamlet very truly says, \u201cthoughts beyond\nthe reaches of our souls.\u201d In my essay in the first volume of the Parerga\n\u201cOn the Appearance of Intention in the Fate of Individuals\u201d I have set\nforth my thoughts upon this mysterious guidance of things, a guidance\nwhich indeed can only be conceived symbolically.\n\nIn \u00a7 14 of my prize essay on the foundation of morals there will be found\nan exposition of egoism, as regards its nature; and the following attempt\nto discover its root may be looked upon as supplementary to that\nparagraph. Nature itself contradicts itself directly, according as it\nspeaks from the individual or the universal, from within or from without,\nfrom the centre or the periphery. It has its centre in every individual;\nfor each individual is the whole will to live. Therefore, even if this\nindividual is only an insect or a worm, nature itself speaks out of it\nthus: \u201cI alone am all in all: in my maintenance everything is involved;\nthe rest may perish, it is really nothing.\u201d So speaks nature from the\n_particular_ standpoint, thus from the point of view of self\u2010\nconsciousness, and upon this depends the egoism of every living thing. On\nthe other hand, from the _universal_ point of view,\u2014which is that of the\n_consciousness of other things_, that of objective knowledge, which for\nthe moment looks away from the individual with whom the knowledge is\nconnected,\u2014from without then, from the periphery nature speaks thus: \u201cThe\nindividual is nothing, and less than nothing. I destroy millions of\nindividuals every day, for sport and pastime: I abandon their fate to the\nmost capricious and wilful of my children, chance, who harasses them at\npleasure. I produce millions of new individuals every day, without any\ndiminution of my productive power; just as little as the power of a mirror\nis exhausted by the number of reflections of the sun, which it casts on\nthe wall one after another. The individual is nothing.\u201d Only he who knows\nhow to really reconcile and eliminate this patent contradiction of nature\nhas a true answer to the question as to the perishableness and\nimperishableness of his own self. I believe I have given, in the first\nfour chapters of this fourth book of the supplements, an adequate\nintroduction to such knowledge. What is said above may further be\nillustrated in the following manner. Every individual, when he looks\nwithin, recognises in his nature, which is his will, the thing in itself,\ntherefore that which everywhere alone is real. Accordingly he conceives\nhimself as the kernel and centre of the world, and regards himself as of\ninfinite importance. If, on the other hand, he looks without, then he is\nin the province of the idea the mere phenomenon, where he sees himself as\nan individual among an infinite number of other individuals, accordingly\nas something very insignificant, nay, vanishing altogether. Consequently\nevery individual, even the most insignificant, every I, when regarded from\nwithin, is all in all; regarded from without, on the other hand, he is\nnothing, or at least as good as nothing. Hence upon this depends the great\ndifference between what each one necessarily is in his own eyes and what\nhe is in the eyes of others, consequently the egoism with which every one\nreproaches every one else.\n\nIn consequence of this egoism our fundamental error of all is this, that\nwith reference to each other we are reciprocally not I. On the other hand,\nto be just, noble, and benevolent is nothing else than to translate my\nmetaphysics into actions. To say that time and space are mere forms of our\nknowledge, not conditions of things in themselves, is the same as to say\nthat the doctrine of metempsychosis, \u201cThou shalt one day be born as him\nwhom thou now injurest, and in thy turn shalt suffer like injury,\u201d is\nidentical with the formula of the Brahmans, which has frequently been\nmentioned, _Tat twam asi_, \u201cThis thou art.\u201d All true virtue proceeds from\nthe immediate and intuitive knowledge of the metaphysical identity of all\nbeings, which I have frequently shown, especially in \u00a7 22 of my prize\nessay on the foundation of morals. But just on this account it is not the\nresult of a special pre\u2010eminence of intellect; on the contrary, even the\nweakest intellect is sufficient to see through the _principium\nindividuationis_, which is what is required in this matter. Accordingly we\nmay find the most excellent character even in the case of a very weak\nunderstanding. And further, the excitement of our sympathy is accompanied\nby no exertion of our intellect. It rather appears that the requisite\npenetration of the _principium individuationis_ would be present in every\none if it were not that the _will_ opposes this, and by virtue of its\nimmediate mysterious and despotic influence upon the intellect generally\nprevents it from arising; so that ultimately all guilt falls back upon the\n_will_, as indeed is in conformity with the fact.\n\nThe doctrine of metempsychosis, touched on above, deviates from the truth\nmerely through the circumstance that it transfers to the future what\nalready is now. It makes my true inner nature exist in others only after\nmy death, while, according to the truth, it already lives in them now, and\ndeath merely removes the illusion on account of which I am not aware of\nthis; just as an innumerable host of stars constantly shine above our\nheads, but only become visible to us when the one sun near the earth has\nset. From this point of view my individual existence, however much, like\nthat sun, it may outshine everything, appears ultimately only as a\nhindrance which stands between me and the knowledge of the true extent of\nmy being. And because every individual, in his knowledge, is subject to\nthis hindrance, it is just individuation that keeps the will to live in\nerror as to its own nature; it is the M\u00e2y\u00e2 of Brahmanism. Death is a\nrefutation of this error, and abolishes it. I believe that at the moment\nof death we become conscious that it is a mere illusion that has limited\nour existence to our person. Indeed empirical traces of this may be found\nin several states which are related to death by the abolition of the\nconcentration of consciousness in the brain, among which the magnetic\nsleep is the most prominent; for in it, if it reaches a high degree, our\nexistence shows itself through various symptoms, beyond our persons and in\nother beings, most strikingly by direct participation in the thoughts of\nanother individual, and ultimately even by the power of knowing the\nabsent, the distant, and even the future, thus by a kind of omnipresence.\n\nUpon this metaphysical identity of the will, as the thing in itself, in\nthe infinite multiplicity of its phenomena, three principal phenomena\ndepend, which may be included under the common name of sympathies: (1)\n_sympathy proper_, which, as I have shown, is the basis of justice and\nbenevolence, _caritas_; (2) _sexual love_, with capricious selection,\n_amor_, which is the life of the species, that asserts its precedence over\nthat of the individual; (3) _magic_, to which animal magnetism and\nsympathetic cures also belong. Accordingly _sympathy_ may be defined as\nthe empirical appearance of the metaphysical identity of the will, through\nthe physical multiplicity of its phenomena, whereby a connection shows\nitself which is entirely different from that brought about by means of the\nforms of the phenomenon which we comprehend under the principle of\nsufficient reason.\n\n\n\n\nChapter XLVIII.(44) On The Doctrine Of The Denial Of The Will To Live.\n\n\nMan has his existence and being either _with_ his will, _i.e._, his\nconsent, or _without_ this; in the latter case an existence so embittered\nby manifold and insupportable sufferings would be a flagrant injustice.\nThe ancients, especially the Stoics, also the Peripatetics and Academics,\nstrove in vain to prove that virtue sufficed to make life happy.\nExperience cried out loudly against it. What really lay at the foundation\nof the efforts of these philosophers, although they were not distinctly\nconscious of it, was the assumed _justice_ of the thing; whoever was\nwithout guilt ought to be free from suffering, thus happy. But the serious\nand profound solution of the problem lies in the Christian doctrine that\nworks do not justify. Accordingly a man, even if he has practised all\njustice and benevolence, consequently the \u03b1\u03b3\u03b1\u03b8\u03bf\u03bd, _honestum_, is yet not,\nas Cicero imagines, _culpa omni carens_ (_Tusc._, v. i.); but _el delito\nmayor del hombre es haber nacido_ (the greatest guilt of man is that he\nwas born), as Calderon, illuminated by Christianity, has expressed it with\nfar profounder knowledge than these wise men. Therefore that man comes\ninto the world already tainted with guilt can appear absurd only to him\nwho regards him as just then having arisen out of nothing and as the work\nof another. In consequence of _this_ guilt, then, which must therefore\nhave proceeded from his will, man remains rightly exposed to physical and\nmental suffering, even if he has practised all those virtues, thus is not\nhappy. This follows from the _eternal justice_ of which I have spoken in \u00a7\n63 of the first volume. That, however, as St. Paul (Rom. iii. 21),\nAugustine, and Luther teach, works cannot justify, inasmuch as we all are\nand remain essentially sinners, ultimately rests upon the fact that,\nbecause _operari sequitur esse_, if we acted as we ought, we would\nnecessarily be as we ought. But then we would require no _salvation_ from\nour present condition, which not only Christianity but also Brahmanism and\nBuddhism (under the name which is expressed in English by _final\nemancipation_) present as the highest goal, _i.e._, we would not need to\nbecome something quite different from, nay, the very opposite of what we\nare. Since, however, we are what we ought not to be, we also necessarily\ndo what we ought not to do. Therefore we need a complete transformation of\nour mind and nature; _i.e._, the new birth, as the result of which\nsalvation appears. Although the guilt lies in action, _operari_, yet the\nroot of the guilt lies in our _essentia et existentia_, for out of these\nthe _operari_ necessarily proceeds, as I have shown in the prize essay on\nthe freedom of the will. Accordingly our one true sin is really original\nsin. Now the Christian myth makes original sin first arise after man came\ninto existence, and for this purpose ascribes to him, _per impossibile_, a\nfree will. It does this, however, simply as myth. The inmost kernel and\nspirit of Christianity is identical with that of Brahmanism and Buddhism;\nthey all teach a great guilt of the human race through its existence\nitself, only that Christianity does not proceed directly and frankly like\nthese more ancient religions: thus does not make the guilt simply the\nresult of existence itself, but makes it arise through the act of the\nfirst human pair. This was only possible under the fiction of a _liberum\narbitrium indifferenti\u00e6_, and only necessary on account of the Jewish\nfundamental dogma, in which that doctrine had here to be implanted.\nBecause, according to the truth, the coming into existence of man himself\nis the act of his free will, and accordingly one with the fall, and\ntherefore the original sin, of which all other sins are the result,\nappeared already with the _essentia_ and _existentia_ of man; but the\nfundamental dogma of Judaism did not admit of such an explanation. Thus\nAugustine taught, in his books _De libero arbitrio_, that only as Adam\nbefore the fall was man guiltless and possessed of a free will, but for\never after is involved in the necessity of sin. The law, \u1f41 \u03bd\u03bf\u03bc\u03bf\u03c2, in the\nBiblical sense, always demands that we shall change our doing, while our\nbeing remains unchanged. But because this is impossible, Paul says that no\nman is justified by the law; only the new birth in Jesus Christ, in\nconsequence of the work of grace, on account of which a new man arises and\nthe old man is abolished (_i.e._, a fundamental change of mind or\nconversion), can transfer us from the state of sinfulness into that of\nfreedom and salvation. This is the Christian myth with reference to\nethics. But certainly the Jewish theism, upon which it was grafted, must\nhave received wonderful additions to adapt itself to that myth. In it the\nfable of the fall presented the only place for the graft of the old Indian\nstem. It is to be attributed just to that forcibly surmounted difficulty\nthat the Christian mysteries have received such an extraordinary\nappearance, conflicting with the ordinary understanding, which makes\nproselytising more difficult, and on account of which, from incapacity to\ncomprehend their profound meaning, Pelagianism, or at the present day\nRationalism, rises against them, and seeks to explain them away, but\nthereby reduces Christianity to Judaism.\n\nBut to speak without myth: so long as our will is the same, our world can\nbe no other than it is. It is true all wish to be delivered from the state\nof suffering and death; they would like, as it is expressed, to attain to\neternal blessedness, to enter the kingdom of heaven, only not upon their\nown feet; they would like to be carried there by the course of nature.\nThat, however, is impossible. Therefore nature will never let us fall and\nbecome nothing; but yet it can lead us nowhere but always again into\nnature. Yet how questionable a thing it is to exist as a part of nature\nevery one experiences in his own life and death. Accordingly existence is\ncertainly to be regarded as an erring, to return from which is salvation:\nit also bears this character throughout. It is therefore conceived in this\nmanner by the ancient Samana religions, and also, although indirectly, by\nreal and original Christianity. Even Judaism itself contains at least in\nthe fall (this its redeeming feature) the germ of such a view. Only Greek\npaganism and Islamism are entirely optimistic: therefore in the former the\nopposite tendency had to find expression at least in tragedy; but in\nIslamism, which is the worst, as it is the most modern, of all religions,\nit appeared as Sufism, that very beautiful phenomenon, which is completely\nof Indian spirit and origin, and has now continued for upwards of a\nthousand years. Nothing can, in fact, be given as the end of our existence\nbut the knowledge that we had better not be. This, however, is the most\nimportant of all truths, which must therefore be expressed, however great\nthe contrast in which it stands with the European manner of thought of the\npresent day. On the other hand, in the whole of non\u2010Mohammedan Asia it is\nthe most universally recognised fundamental truth, to\u2010day as much as three\nthousand years ago.\n\nIf now we consider the will to live as a whole and objectively, we have,\nin accordance with what has been said, to think of it as involved in an\nillusion, to escape from which, thus to deny its whole existing endeavour,\nis what all religions denote by self\u2010renunciation, _abnegatio sui ipsius_;\nfor the true self is the will to live. The moral virtues, thus justice and\nbenevolence, since if they are pure they spring, as I have shown, from the\nfact that the will to live, seeing through the _principium\nindividuationis_, recognises itself in all its manifestations, are\naccordingly primarily a sign, a symptom, that the self\u2010manifesting will is\nno longer firmly held in that illusion, but the disillusion already begins\nto take place; so that one might metaphorically say it already flaps its\nwings to fly away from it. Conversely, injustice, wickedness, cruelty are\nsigns of the opposite, thus of the deep entanglement in that illusion.\nSecondly, however, these virtues are a means of advancing self\u2010\nrenunciation, and accordingly the denial of the will to live. For true\nintegrity, inviolable justice, this first and most important of cardinal\nvirtues, is so hard a task that whoever professes it unconditionally and\nfrom the bottom of his heart has to make sacrifices that soon deprive life\nof the sweetness which is demanded to make it enjoyable, and thereby turn\naway the will from it, thus lead to resignation. Yet just what makes\nintegrity honourable is the sacrifices which it costs; in trifles it is\nnot admired. Its nature really consists in this, that the just man does\nnot throw upon others, by craft or force, the burdens and sorrows which\nlife brings with it, as the unjust man does, but bears himself what falls\nto his lot; and thus he has to bear the full burden of the evil imposed\nupon human life, undiminished. Justice thereby becomes a means of\nadvancing the denial of the will to live, for want and suffering, those\ntrue conditions of human life, are its consequence, and these lead to\nresignation. Still more quickly does the virtue of benevolence, _caritas_,\nwhich goes further, lead to the same result; for on account of it one\ntakes over even the sufferings which originally fell to the lot of others,\ntherefore appropriates to oneself a larger share of these than in the\ncourse of things would come to the particular individual. He who is\ninspired with this virtue has recognised his own being in all others. And\nthereby he identifies his own lot with that of humanity in general; but\nthis is a hard lot, that of care, suffering, and death. Whoever, then, by\nrenouncing every accidental advantage, desires for himself no other lot\nthan that of humanity in general cannot desire even this long. The\nclinging to life and its pleasures must now soon yield, and give place to\na universal renunciation; consequently the denial of the will will take\nplace. Since now, in accordance with this, poverty, privation, and special\nsufferings of many kinds are introduced simply by the perfect exercise of\nthe moral virtues, asceticism in the narrowest sense, thus the surrender\nof all possessions, the intentional seeking out of what is disagreeable\nand repulsive, self\u2010mortification, fasts, the hair shirt, and the\nscourge\u2014all this is rejected by many, and perhaps rightly, as superfluous.\nJustice itself is the hair shirt that constantly harasses its owner and\nthe charity that gives away what is needed, provides constant fasts.(45)\nJust on this account Buddhism is free from all strict and excessive\nasceticism, which plays a large part in Brahmanism, thus from intentional\nself\u2010mortification. It rests satisfied with the celibacy, voluntary\npoverty, humility, and obedience of the monks, with abstention from animal\nfood, as also from all worldliness. Since, further, the goal to which the\nmoral virtues lead is that which is here pointed out, the Vedanta\nphilosophy(46) rightly says that after the entrance of true knowledge,\nwith entire resignation in its train, thus the new birth, then the\nmorality or immorality of the past life is a matter of indifference, and\nuses here also the saying so often quoted by the Brahmans: \u201c_Finditur\nnodus cordis, dissolvuntur omnes dubitationes, ejusque opera evanescunt,\nviso supremo illo_\u201d (_Sancara, sloca 32_).\n\nNow, however objectionable this view may be to many, to whom a reward in\nheaven or a punishment in hell is a much more satisfactory explanation of\nthe ethical significance of human action, just as the good Windischmann\nrejects that doctrine, while he expounds it, yet whoever is able to go to\nthe bottom of the matter will find that in the end it agrees with that\nChristian doctrine especially urged by Luther, that it is not works but\nonly the faith which enters through the work of grace, that saves us, and\nthat therefore we can never be justified by our deeds, but can only obtain\nthe forgiveness of our sins through the merits of the Mediator. It is\nindeed easy to see that without such assumptions Christianity would have\nto teach infinite punishment for all, and Brahmanism endless re\u2010births for\nall, thus no salvation would be reached by either. The sinful works and\ntheir consequences must be annulled and annihilated, whether by extraneous\npardon or by the entrance of a better knowledge; otherwise the world could\nhope for no salvation; afterwards, however, they become a matter of\nindifference. This is also the \u03bc\u03b5\u03c4\u03b1\u03bd\u03bf\u03b9\u03b1 \u03ba\u03b1\u03b9 \u03b1\u03c6\u03b5\u03c3\u03b9\u03c2 \u1f01\u03bc\u03b1\u03c1\u03c4\u03b9\u03c9\u03bd, the\nannouncement of which the risen Christ exclusively imposes upon His\nApostles as the sum of their mission (Luke xxiv. 47). The moral virtues\nare really not the ultimate end, but only a step towards it. This step is\nsignified in the Christian myth by the eating of the tree of the knowledge\nof good and evil, with which moral responsibility enters, together with\noriginal sin. The latter itself is in truth the assertion of the will to\nlive: the denial of the will to live, in consequence of the appearance of\na better knowledge, is, on the other hand, salvation. Between these two,\nthen, lies the sphere of morality; it accompanies man as a light upon his\npath from the assertion to the denial of the will, or, mythically, from\noriginal sin to salvation through faith in the mediation of the incarnate\nGod (Avatar); or, according to the teaching of the Vedas, through all re\u2010\nbirths, which are the consequence of the works in each case, until right\nknowledge appears, and with it salvation (final emancipation), Mokscha,\n_i.e._, reunion with Brahma. The Buddhists, however, with perfect honesty,\nonly indicate the matter negatively, by Nirvana, which is the negation of\nthis world, or of Sansara. If Nirvana is defined as nothing, this only\nmeans that the Sansara contains no single element which could assist the\ndefinition or construction of Nirvana. Just on this account the Jainas,\nwho differ from the Buddhists only in name, call the Brahmans who believe\nin the Vedas Sabdapramans, a nickname which is meant to signify that they\nbelieve upon hearsay what cannot be known or proved (\u201cAsiat. Researches,\u201d\nvol. vi. P. 474).\n\nWhen certain ancient philosophers, such as Orpheus, the Pythagoreans, and\nPlato (_e.g._, in the \u201cPh\u00e6do,\u201d pp. 151, 183 _seq._, Bip.; and see _Clem.\nAlex. strom._, iii. p. 400 _seq._), just like the Apostle Paul, lament the\nunion of soul and body, and desire to be freed from it, we understand the\nreal and true meaning of this complaint, since we have recognised, in the\nsecond book, that the body is the will itself, objectively perceived as a\nphenomenon in space.\n\nIn the hour of death it is decided whether the man returns into the womb\nof nature or belongs no more to nature at all, but \u2014\u2014 \u2014\u2014 \u2014\u2014: for this\nopposite we lack image, conception, and word, just because these are all\ntaken from the objectification of the will, therefore belong to this, and\nconsequently can in no way express the absolute opposite of it, which\naccordingly remains for us a mere negation. However, the death of the\nindividual is in each case the unweariedly repeated question of nature to\nthe will to live, \u201cHast thou enough? Wilt thou escape from me?\u201d In order\nthat it may occur often enough, the individual life is so short. In this\nspirit are conceived the ceremonies, prayers, and exhortations of the\nBrahmans at the time of death, as we find them preserved in the Upanischad\nin several places; and so also are the Christian provisions for the\nsuitable employment of the hour of death by means of exhortation,\nconfession, communion, and extreme unction: hence also the Christian\nprayers for deliverance from sudden death. That at the present day it is\njust this that many desire only proves that they no longer stand at the\nChristian point of view, which is that of the denial of the will to live,\nbut at that of its assertion, which is the heathen point of view.\n\nBut he will fear least to become nothing in death who has recognised that\nhe is already nothing now, and who consequently no longer takes any share\nin his individual phenomenon, because in him knowledge has, as it were,\nburnt up and consumed the will, so that no will, thus no desire for\nindividual existence, remains in him any more.\n\nIndividuality inheres indeed primarily in the intellect; and the\nintellect, reflecting the phenomenon, belongs to the phenomenon, which has\nthe _principium individuationis_ as its form. But it inheres also in the\nwill, inasmuch as the character is individual: yet the character itself is\nabolished in the denial of the will. Thus individuality inheres in the\nwill only in its assertion, not in its denial. Even the holiness which is\nconnected with every purely moral action depends upon the fact that such\nan action ultimately springs from the immediate knowledge of the numerical\nidentity of the inner nature of all living things.(47) But this identity\nonly really exists in the condition of the denial of the will (Nirvana),\nfor the assertion of the will (Sansara) has for its form the phenomenal\nappearance of it in multiplicity. Assertion of the will to live, the\nphenomenal world, the diversity of all beings, individuality, egoism,\nhatred, wickedness, all spring from _one_ root; and so also, on the other\nhand, do the world as thing in itself, the identity of all beings,\njustice, benevolence, the denial of the will to live. If now, as I have\nsufficiently proved, even the moral virtues spring from the consciousness\nof that identity of all beings, but this lies, not in the phenomenon, but\nonly in the thing in itself, in the root of all beings, the moral action\nis a momentary passing through the point, the permanent return to which is\nthe denial of the will to live.\n\nIt follows, as a deduction from what has been said, that we have no ground\nto assume that there are more perfect intelligences than that of human\nbeings. For we see that even this degree of intelligence is sufficient to\nimpart to the will that knowledge in consequence of which it denies and\nabolishes itself, upon which the individuality, and consequently the\nintelligence, which is merely a tool of individual, and therefore animal\nnature, perish. This will appear to us less open to objection if we\nconsider that we cannot conceive even the most perfect intelligences\npossible, which for this end we may experimentally assume, existing\nthrough an endless time, which would be much too poor to afford them\nconstantly new objects worthy of them. Because the nature of all things is\nat bottom one, all knowledge of them is necessarily tautological. If now\nthis nature once becomes comprehended, as by those most perfect\nintelligences it soon would be comprehended, what would then remain but\nthe wearisomeness of mere repetition through an infinite time? Thus from\nthis side also we are pointed to the fact that the end of all intelligence\ncan only be reaction upon the will; since, however, all willing is an\nerror, it remains the last work of intelligence to abolish the willing,\nwhose ends it had hitherto served. Accordingly even the most perfect\nintelligence possible can only be a transition step to that to which no\nknowledge can ever extend: indeed such an intelligence can, in the nature\nof things, only assume the position of the moment of the attainment of\nperfect insight.\n\nIn agreement with all these considerations, and also with what is proved\nin the second book as to the origin of knowledge in the will, the\n_assertion_ of which it reflects in fulfilling the sole function of\nknowledge, that of being serviceable to the ends of the will, while true\nsalvation lies in its _denial_, we see all religions at their highest\npoint pass over into mysticism and mysteries, _i.e._, into darkness and\nveiled obscurity, which for knowledge signify merely an empty spot, the\npoint where knowledge necessarily ceases; therefore for thought this can\nonly be expressed by negations, but for sense perception it is indicated\nby symbolical signs; in temples by dim light and silence; in Brahmanism\nindeed by the required suspension of all thought and perception for the\nsake of sinking oneself profoundly in the grounds of one\u2019s own being,\nmentally pronouncing the mysterious Oum.(48) Mysticism in the widest sense\nis every guidance to the immediate consciousness of that to which neither\nperception nor conception, thus in general no knowledge extends. The\nmystic is thus opposed to the philosopher by the fact that he begins from\nwithin, while the philosopher begins from without. The mystic starts from\nhis inner, positive, individual experience, in which he finds himself to\nbe the eternal and only being, &c. But nothing of this is communicable\nexcept the assertions which one has to accept upon his word; consequently\nhe cannot convince. The philosopher, on the other hand, starts from what\nis common to all, from the objective phenomenon which lies before all, and\nfrom the facts of consciousness as they are present in all. His method is\ntherefore reflection upon all this, and combination of the data given in\nit: accordingly he can convince. He ought therefore to beware of falling\ninto the way of the mystics, and, for example, by the assertion of\nintellectual intuitions or pretended immediate apprehensions of the\nreason, to seek to make a vain show of positive knowledge of that which is\nfor ever inaccessible to all knowledge, or at the most can be indicated by\nmeans of a negation. The value and worth of philosophy lies in the fact\nthat it rejects all assumptions which cannot be established, and takes as\nits data only what can be certainly proved in the world given in external\nperception, in the forms of apprehension of this world, which are\nconstitutive of our intellect, and in the consciousness of one\u2019s own self\nwhich is common to all. Therefore it must remain cosmology, and cannot\nbecome theology. Its theme must limit itself to the world; to express in\nall aspects what this _is_, what it is in its inmost nature, is all that\nit can honestly achieve. Now it answers to this that my system when it\nreaches its highest point assumes a _negative_ character, thus ends with a\nnegation. It can here speak only of what is denied, given up: but what is\nthereby won, what is laid hold of, it is obliged (at the conclusion of the\nfourth book) to denote as nothing, and can only add the consolation that\nit is merely a relative, not an absolute nothing. For if something is none\nof all the things which we know, it is certainly for us, speaking\ngenerally, nothing. But it does not yet follow from this that it is\nabsolutely nothing, that from every possible point of view and in every\npossible sense it must be nothing, but only that we are limited to a\ncompletely negative knowledge of it, which may very well lie in the\nlimitation of our point of view. Now it is just here that the mystic\nproceeds positively, and therefore it is just from this point that nothing\nbut mysticism remains. However, any one who wishes this kind of supplement\nto the negative knowledge to which alone philosophy can guide him will\nfind it in its most beautiful and richest form in the Oupnekhat, then also\nin the Enneads of Plotinus, in Scotus Erigena, in passages of Jakob B\u00f6hm,\nbut especially in the marvellous work of Madame de Guion, _Les Torrens_,\nand in Angelus Silesius; finally also in the poems of the Sufis, of which\nTholuk has given us a collection translated into Latin, and another\ntranslated into German, and in many other works. The Sufis are the\nGnostics of Islam. Hence Sadi denotes them by a word which may be\ntranslated \u201cfull of insight.\u201d Theism, calculated with reference to the\ncapacity of the multitude, places the source of existence without us, as\nan object. All mysticism, and so also Sufism, according to the various\ndegrees of its initiation, draws it gradually back within us, as the\nsubject, and the adept recognises at last with wonder and delight that he\nis it himself. This procedure, common to all mysticism, we find not only\nexpressed by Meister Eckhard, the father of German mysticism, in the form\nof a precept for the perfect ascetic, \u201cthat he seek not God outside\nhimself\u201d (Eckhard\u2019s works, edited by Pfeiffer, vol. i. p. 626), but also\nvery na\u00efvely exhibited by Eckhard\u2019s spiritual daughter, who sought him\nout, when she had experienced that conversion in herself, to cry out\njoyfully to him, \u201cSir, rejoice with me, I have become God\u201d (_loc. cit._,\np. 465). The mysticism of the Sufis also expresses itself throughout\nprecisely in accordance with this spirit, principally as a revelling in\nthe consciousness that one is oneself the kernel of the world and the\nsource of all existence, to which all returns. Certainly there also often\nappears the call to surrender all volition as the only way in which\ndeliverance from individual existence and its suffering is possible, yet\nsubordinated and required as something easy. In the mysticism of the\nHindus, on the other hand, the latter side comes out much more strongly,\nand in Christian mysticism it is quite predominant, so that pantheistic\nconsciousness, which is essential to all mysticism, here only appears in a\nsecondary manner, in consequence of the surrender of all volition, as\nunion with God. Corresponding to this difference of the conception,\nMohammedan mysticism has a very serene character, Christian mysticism a\ngloomy and melancholy character, while that of the Hindus, standing above\nboth, in this respect also holds the mean.\n\nQuietism, _i.e._, surrender of all volition, asceticism, _i.e._,\nintentional mortification of one\u2019s own will, and mysticism, _i.e._,\nconsciousness of the identity of one\u2019s own nature with that of all things\nor with the kernel of the world, stand in the closest connection; so that\nwhoever professes one of them is gradually led to accept the others, even\nagainst his intention. Nothing can be more surprising than the agreement\nwith each other of the writers who present these doctrines,\nnotwithstanding the greatest difference of their age, country, and\nreligion, accompanied by the firm certainty and inward confidence with\nwhich they set forth the permanence of their inner experience. They do not\nconstitute a _sect_, which adheres to, defends, and propagates a favourite\ndogma once laid hold of; indeed the Indian, Christian, and Mohammedan\nmystics, quietists, and ascetics are different in every respect, except\nthe inner significance and spirit of their teaching. A very striking\nexample of this is afforded by the comparison of the _Torrens_ of Madame\nde Guion with the teaching of the Vedas, especially with the passage in\nthe Oupnekhat, vol. i. p. 63, which contains the content of that French\nwork in the briefest form, but accurately and even with the same images,\nand yet could not possibly have been known to Madame de Guion in 1680. In\nthe \u201c_Deutschen Theologie_\u201d (the only unmutilated edition, Stuttgart,\n1851) it is said in chapters 2 and 3 that both the fall of the devil and\nthat of Adam consisted in the fact that the one as the other ascribed to\nhimself the I and me, the mine and to me, and on p. 89 it is said: \u201cIn\ntrue love there remains neither I nor me, mine, to me, thou, thine, and\nthe like.\u201d Now, corresponding to this, it is said in the \u201cKural,\u201d from the\nTamilian by Graul, p. 8: \u201cThe passion of the mine directed outwardly, and\nthat of the I directed inwardly, cease\u201d (_cf._ ver. 346). And in the\n\u201cManual of Buddhism\u201d by Spence Hardy, p. 258, Buddha says: \u201cMy disciples\nreject the thoughts I am this, or this is mine.\u201d In general, if we look\naway from the forms which are introduced by external circumstances and go\nto the bottom of the matter, we will find that Sakya Muni and Meister\nEckhard teach the same; only that the former dared to express his thoughts\ndirectly, while the latter is obliged to clothe them in the garments of\nthe Christian myth and adapt his expressions to this. He carries this,\nhowever, so far that with him the Christian myth has become little more\nthan a symbolical language, just as the Hellenic myth became for the Neo\u2010\nPlatonists: he takes it throughout allegorically. In the same respect it\nis worth noticing that the transition of St. Francis from prosperity to\nthe mendicant life is similar to the still greater step of Buddha Sakya\nMuni from prince to beggar, and that, corresponding to this, the life of\nSt. Francis, and also the order he founded, was just a kind of\nSannyasiism. Indeed it deserves to be mentioned that his relationship with\nthe Indian spirit appears also in his great love for the brutes and\nfrequent intercourse with them, when he always calls them his sisters and\nbrothers; and his beautiful Cantico also bears witness to his inborn\nIndian spirit by the praise of the sun, the moon, the stars, the wind, the\nwater, the fire, and the earth.(49)\n\nEven the Christian quietists must often have had little or no knowledge of\neach other; for example, Molinos and Madame de Guion of Tauler and the\n\u201c_Deutsche Theologie_,\u201d or Gichtel of the former. In any case, the great\ndifference of their culture, in that some of them, like Molinos, were\nlearned, others, like Gichtel and many more, were the reverse, has no\nessential influence upon their teaching. Their great internal agreement,\nalong with the firmness and certainty of their utterances, proves all the\nmore that they speak from real inward experience, from an experience which\ncertainly is not accessible to all, but is possessed only by a few\nfavoured individuals, and therefore has received the name of the work of\ngrace, the reality of which, however, for the above reasons, is not to be\ndoubted. But in order to understand all this one must read the mystics\nthemselves, and not be contented with second\u2010hand reports of them; for\nevery one must himself be comprehended before one judges concerning him.\nThus to become acquainted with quietism I specially recommend Meister\nEckhard, the \u201c_Deutsche Theologie_,\u201d Tauler, Madame de Guion, Antoinette\nBourignon, the English Bunyan, Molinos(50) and Gichtel. In the same way,\nas practical proofs and examples of the profound seriousness of\nasceticism, the life of Pascal, edited by Reuchlin, together with his\nhistory of the Port\u2010Royal, and also the _Histoire de Sainte Elisabeth, par\nle comte de Montalembert_, and _La vie de Ranc\u00e9, par Chateaubriand_, are\nvery well worth reading, but yet by no means exhaust all that is important\nin this class. Whoever has read such writings, and compared their spirit\nwith that of ascetism and quietism as it runs through all works of\nBrahmanism and Buddhism, and speaks in every page, will admit that every\nphilosophy, which must in consistency reject that whole mode of thought,\nwhich it can only do by explaining the representatives of it to be either\nimpostors or mad\u2010men, must just on this account necessarily be false. But\nall European systems, with the exception of mine, find themselves in this\nposition. Truly it must be an extraordinary madness which, under the most\nwidely different circumstances and persons possible, spoke with such\nagreement, and, moreover, was raised to the position of a chief doctrine\nof their religion, by the most ancient and numerous peoples of the earth,\nsomething like three\u2010fourths of all the inhabitants of Asia. But no\nphilosophy can leave the theme of quietism and asceticism undecided if the\nquestion is proposed to it; because this theme is, in its matter,\nidentical with that of all metaphysics and ethics. Here then is a point\nupon which I expect and desire that every philosophy, with its optimism,\nshould declare itself. And if, in the judgment of contemporaries, the\nparadoxical and unexampled agreement of my philosophy with quietism and\nasceticism appears as an open stumbling\u2010block, I, on the contrary, see\njust in that agreement a proof of its sole correctness and truth, and also\na ground of explanation of why it is ignored and kept secret by the\n_Protestant_ universities.\n\nFor not only the religions of the East, but also true Christianity, has\nthroughout that ascetic fundamental character which my philosophy explains\nas the denial of the will to live; although Protestantism, especially in\nits present form, seeks to conceal this. Yet even the open enemies of\nChristianity who have appeared in the most recent times have ascribed to\nit the doctrines of renunciation, self\u2010denial, perfect chastity, and, in\ngeneral, mortification of the will, which they quite correctly denote by\nthe name of the \u201c_anti\u2010cosmic tendency_,\u201d and have fully proved that such\ndoctrines are essentially proper to original and genuine Christianity. In\nthis they are undeniably right. But that they set up this as an evident\nand patent reproach to Christianity, while just here lies its profoundest\ntruth, its high value, and its sublime character,\u2014this shows an obscuring\nof the mind, which can only be explained by the fact that these men\u2019s\nminds, unfortunately like thousands more at the present day in Germany,\nare completely spoiled and distorted by the miserable Hegelism, that\nschool of dulness, that centre of misunderstanding and ignorance, that\nmind\u2010destroying, spurious wisdom, which now at last begins to be\nrecognised as such, and the veneration of which will soon be left to the\nDanish Academy, in whose eyes even that gross charlatan is a _summus\nphilosophus_, for whom it takes the field:\u2014\n\n\n    \u201c_Car ils suivront la cr\u00e9ance et estude,_\n    _De l\u2019ignorante et sotte multitude,_\n    _Dont le plus lourd sera re\u00e7a pour juge._\u201d\n\n    \u2014RABELAIS.\n\n\nIn any case, the ascetic tendency is unmistakable in the genuine and\noriginal Christianity as it developed in the writings of the Church\nFathers from its kernel in the New Testament; it is the summit towards\nwhich all strives upwards. As its chief doctrine we find the\nrecommendation of genuine and pure celibacy (this first and most important\nstep in the denial of the will to live), which is already expressed in the\nNew Testament.(51) Strauss also, in his \u201cLife of Jesus\u201d (vol i. p. 618 of\nthe first edition), says, with reference to the recommendation of celibacy\ngiven in Matt. xix. 11 _seq._, \u201cThat the doctrine of Jesus may not run\ncounter to the ideas of the present day, men have hastened to introduce\nsurreptitiously the thought that Jesus only praised celibacy with\nreference to the circumstances of the time, and in order to leave the\nactivity of the Apostles unfettered; but there is even less indication of\nthis in the context than in the kindred passage, 1 Cor. vii. 25 _seq._;\nbut we have here again one of the places where _ascetic principles_, such\nas prevailed among the Essenes, and probably still more widely among the\nJews, appear in the teaching of Jesus also.\u201d This ascetic tendency appears\nmore decidedly later than at the beginning, when Christianity, still\nseeking adherents, dared not pitch its demands too high; and by the\nbeginning of the third century it is expressly urged. Marriage, in genuine\nChristianity, is merely a compromise with the sinful nature of man, as a\nconcession, something allowed to those who lack strength to aspire to the\nhighest, an expedient to avoid greater evil: in this sense it receives the\nsanction of the Church in order that the bond may be indissoluble. But\ncelibacy and virginity are set up as the higher consecration of\nChristianity through which one enters the ranks of the elect. Through\nthese alone does one attain the victor\u2019s crown, which even at the present\nday is signified by the wreath upon the coffin of the unmarried, and also\nby that which the bride lays aside on the day of her marriage.\n\nA piece of evidence upon this point, which certainly comes to us from the\nprimitive times of Christianity, is the pregnant answer of the Lord,\nquoted by Clemens Alexandrinus (_Strom._ iii. 6 _et_ 9) from the Gospel of\nthe Egyptians: \u201c\u03a4\u1fc3 \u03a3\u03b1\u03bb\u03c9\u03bc\u1fc3 \u1f41 \u03ba\u03c5\u03c1\u03b9\u03bf\u03c2 \u03c0\u03c5\u03bd\u03b8\u03b1\u03bd\u03bf\u03bc\u03b5\u03bd\u1fc3, \u03bc\u03b5\u03c7\u03c1\u03b9 \u03c0\u03bf\u03c4\u03b5 \u03b8\u03b1\u03bd\u03b1\u03c4\u03bf\u03c2\n\u03b9\u03c3\u03c7\u03c5\u03c3\u03b5\u03b9; \u03bc\u03b5\u03c7\u03c1\u03b9\u03c2 \u03b1\u03bd \u03b5\u03b9\u03c0\u03b5\u03bd, \u1f51\u03bc\u03b5\u03b9\u03c2, \u03b1\u1f31 \u03b3\u03c5\u03bd\u03b1\u03b9\u03ba\u03b5\u03c2, \u03c4\u03b9\u03ba\u03c4\u03b5\u03c4\u03b5\u201d (_Salom\u00e6\ninterroganti ____quousque vigebit mors?____ Dominus ____guoadlusque____\ninguit ____vos, mulieres, paritis___). \u201c\u03a4\u03bf\u03c5\u03c4\u1fbd \u03b5\u03c3\u03c4\u03b9, \u03bc\u03b5\u03c7\u03c1\u03b9\u03c2 \u03b1\u03bd \u03b1\u1f31 \u03b5\u03c0\u03b9\u03b8\u03c5\u03bc\u03b9\u03b1\u03b9\n\u03b5\u03bd\u03b5\u03c1\u03b3\u03c9\u03c3\u03b9\u201d (_Hoc est, quamdiu operabuntur cupiditates_), adds Clement, c.\n9, with which he at once connects the famous passage, Rom. v. 12. Further\non, c. 13, he quotes the words of Cassianus: \u201c\u03a0\u03c5\u03bd\u03b8\u03b1\u03bd\u03bf\u03bc\u03b5\u03bd\u03b7\u03c2 \u03c4\u03b7\u03c2 \u03a3\u03b1\u03bb\u03c9\u03bc\u03b7\u03c2,\n\u03c0\u03bf\u03c4\u03b5 \u03b3\u03bd\u03c9\u03c3\u03b8\u03b7\u03c3\u03b5\u03c4\u03b1\u03b9 \u03c4\u03b1 \u03c0\u03b5\u03c1\u03b9 \u1f61\u03bd \u03b7\u03c1\u03b5\u03c4\u03bf, \u03b5\u03c6\u03b7 \u1f41 \u03ba\u03c5\u03c1\u03b9\u03bf\u03c2, \u1fbd\u039f\u03c4\u03b1\u03bd \u03c4\u03b7\u03c2 \u03b1\u03b9\u03c3\u03c7\u03c5\u03bd\u03c2 \u03b5\u03bd\u03b4\u03c5\u03bc\u03b1\n\u03c0\u03b1\u03c4\u03b7\u03c3\u03b5\u03c4\u03b5, \u03ba\u03b1\u03b9 \u1f41\u03c4\u03b1\u03bd \u03b3\u03b5\u03bd\u03b7\u03c4\u03b1\u03b9 \u03c4\u03b1 \u03b4\u03c5\u03bf \u1f11\u03bd, \u03ba\u03b1\u03b9 \u03c4\u03bf \u03b1\u03c1\u03c1\u03b5\u03bd \u03bc\u03b5\u03c4\u03b1 \u03c4\u03b7\u03c2 \u03b8\u03b7\u03bb\u03b5\u03b9\u03b1\u03c2 \u03bf\u03c5\u03c4\u03b5\n\u03b1\u03c1\u03c1\u03b5\u03bd, \u03bf\u03c5\u03c4\u03b5 \u03b8\u03b7\u03bb\u03c5\u201d (_Cum interrogaret Salome, quando cognoscentur ea, de\nquibus interrogabat, ait Dominus: ____quando pudoris indumentum\nconculcaveritis, et quando duo facto fuerint unum, et masculum cum f\u00e6mina\nnec masculum, nec f\u00e6minium___), _i.e._, when she no longer needs the veil\nof modesty, since all distinction of sex will have disappeared.\n\nWith regard to this point the heretics have certainly gone furthest: even\nin the second century the Tatianites or Encratites, the Gnostics, the\nMarcionites, the Montanists, Valentinians, and Cassians; yet only because\nwith reckless consistency they gave honour to the truth, and therefore, in\naccordance with the spirit of Christianity, they taught perfect\ncontinence; while the Church prudently declared to be heresy all that ran\ncounter to its far\u2010seeing policy. Augustine says of the Tatianites:\n\u201c_Nuptias damnant, atque omnino pares eas fornicationibus aliisque\ncorruptionibus faciunt: nec recipiunt in suum numerum conjugio utentem,\nsive marem, sive f\u0153minam. Non vescunlur carnibus, easque abominantur._\u201d\n(_De h\u0153resi ad quod vult Deum. h\u0153r._, 25.) But even the orthodox Fathers\nlook upon marriage in the light indicated above, and zealously preach\nentire continence, the \u1f01\u03b3\u03bd\u03b5\u03b9\u03b1. Athanasius gives as the cause of marriage:\n\u201c\u1f49\u03c4\u03b9 \u03c5\u03c0\u03bf\u03c0\u03b9\u03c0\u03c4\u03bf\u03bd\u03c4\u03b5\u03c2 \u03b5\u03c3\u03bc\u03b5\u03bd \u03c4\u1fc3 \u03c4\u03bf\u03c5 \u03c0\u03c1\u03bf\u03c0\u03b1\u03c4\u03bf\u03c1\u03bf\u03c2 \u03ba\u03b1\u03c4\u03b1\u03b4\u03b9\u03ba\u1fc3 ... \u03b5\u03c0\u03b5\u03b9\u03b4\u03b7 \u1f41\n\u03c0\u03c1\u03bf\u03b7\u03b3\u03bf\u03c5\u03bc\u03b5\u03bd\u03bf\u03c2 \u03c3\u03ba\u03bf\u03c0\u03bf\u03c2 \u03c4\u03bf\u03c5 \u03b8\u03b5\u03bf\u03c5 \u03b7\u03bd, \u03c4\u03bf \u03bc\u03b7 \u03b4\u03b9\u03b1 \u03b3\u03b1\u03bc\u03bf\u03c5 \u03b3\u03b5\u03bd\u03b5\u03c3\u03b8\u03b1\u03b9 \u1f21\u03bc\u03b1\u03c2 \u03ba\u03b1\u03b9 \u03c6\u03b8\u03bf\u03c1\u03b1\u03c2;\n\u1f21 \u03b4\u03b5 \u03c0\u03b1\u03c1\u03b1\u03b2\u03b1\u03c3\u03b9\u03c2 \u03c4\u03b7\u03c2 \u03b5\u03bd\u03c4\u03bf\u03bb\u03b7\u03c2 \u03c4\u03bf\u03c5 \u03b3\u03b1\u03bc\u03bf\u03bd \u03b5\u03b9\u03c3\u03b7\u03b3\u03b1\u03b3\u03b5\u03bd \u03b4\u03b9\u03b1 \u03c4\u03bf \u03b1\u03bd\u03bf\u03bc\u03b7\u03c3\u03b1\u03b9 \u03c4\u03bf\u03bd \u0391\u03b4\u03b1\u03bc.\u201d\n(_Quia subjacemus condemnationi propatoris nostri; ... nam finis, a Deo\npr\u0153latus, erat, nos non per nuptias et corruptionem fieri: sed\ntransgressio mandati nuptias introduxit, propter legis violationem\nAd\u0153._\u2014_Exposit. in psalm._ 50). Tertullian calls marriage _genus mali\ninferioris, ex indulgentia ortum_ (_De pudicitia_, c. 16) and says:\n\u201c_Matrimonium et stuprum est commixtio carnis; scilicet cujus\nconcupiscentiam dominus stupro ad\u0153quavit. Ergo, inguis, jam et primas, id\nest unas nuptias destruis? Nec immerito: quoniam et ips\u0153 ex eo constant,\nquod est stuprum_\u201d (_De exhort. castit._, c. 9). Indeed, Augustine himself\ncommits himself entirely to this doctrine and all its results, for he\nsays: \u201c_Novi quosdam, qui murmurent: quid, si, inquiunt, omnes velint ab\nomni concubitu abstinere, unde subsistet genus humanum? Utinam omnes hoc\nvellent! dumtaxat in caritate, de corde puro et conscientia bona, et fide\nnon ficta: multo citius Dei civitas compleretur, ut acceleraretur terminus\nmundi_\u201d (_De bono conjugali_, c. 10). And again: \u201c_Non vos ab hoc studio,\nquo multos ad imitandum vos excitatis, frangat querela vanorum, qui\ndicunt: quomodo subsistet genus humanum, si omnes fuerint continentes?\nQuasi propter aliud retardetur hoc seculum, nisi ut impleatur\npr\u0153destinatus numerus ille sanctorum, quo citius impleto, profecto nec\nterminus seculi differetur_\u201d (_De bono individuitatis_, c. 23). One sees\nat once that he identifies salvation with the end of the world. The other\npassages in the works of Augustine which bear on this point will be found\ncollected in the \u201c_Confessio Augustiniana e D. Augustini operibus\ncompilata a Hieronymo Torrense_,\u201d 1610, under the headings _De\nmatrimonio_, _De c\u0153libatu_, &c., and any one may convince himself from\nthese that in ancient, genuine Christianity marriage was only a\nconcession, which besides this was supposed to have only the begetting of\nchildren as its end, that, on the other hand, perfect continence was the\ntrue virtue far to be preferred to this. To those, however, who do not\nwish to go back to the authorities themselves I recommend two works for\nthe purpose of removing any kind of doubt as to the tendency of\nChristianity we are speaking about: Carov\u00e9, \u201c_Ueber das C\u00f6libatgesetz_,\u201d\n1832, and Lind, \u201c_De c\u0153libatu Christianorum per tria priora secula_,\u201d\n_Havni\u0153_, 1839. It is, however, by no means the views of these writers\nthemselves to which I refer, for these are opposed to mine, but solely to\ntheir carefully collected accounts and quotations, which deserve full\nacceptance as quite trustworthy, just because both these writers are\nopponents of celibacy, the former a rationalistic Catholic, and the other\na Protestant candidate in theology, who speaks exactly like one. In the\nfirst\u2010named work we find, vol. i. p. 166, in that reference, the following\nresult expressed: \u201cIn accordance with the Church view, as it may be read\nin canonical Church Fathers, in the Synodal and Papal instructions, and in\ninnumerable writings of orthodox Catholics, perpetual chastity is called a\ndivine, heavenly, angelic virtue, and the obtaining of the assistance of\ndivine grace for this end is made dependent upon earnest prayer. We have\nalready shown that this Augustinian doctrine is by Canisius and in the\ndecrees of the Council of Trent expressed as an unchanging belief of the\nChurch. That, however, it has been retained as a dogma till the present\nday is sufficiently established by the June number, 1831, of the magazine\n\u2018_Der Katholik_.\u2019 It is said there, p. 263: \u2018In Catholicism the observance\nof a perpetual chastity, for the sake of God, appears as in itself the\nhighest merit of man. The view that the observance of continual chastity\nas an end in itself sanctifies and exalts the man is, as every instructed\nCatholic is convinced, deeply rooted in Christianity, both as regards its\nspirit and its express precepts. The decrees of the Council of Trent have\nabolished all possible doubt on this point....\u2019 It must at any rate be\nconfessed by every unprejudiced person, not only that the doctrine\nexpressed by \u2018_Der Katholik_\u2019 is really Catholic, but also that the proofs\nadduced may be quite irrefutable for a Catholic reason, because they are\ndrawn so directly from the ecclesiastical view, taken by the Church, of\nlife and its destiny.\u201d It is further said in the same work, p. 270:\n\u201cAlthough both Paul calls the forbidding to marry a false doctrine, and\nthe still Judaistic author of the Epistle to the Hebrews enjoins that\nmarriage shall be held in honour by all, and the bed kept undefiled (Heb.\nxiii 4), yet the main tendency of these two sacred writers is not on that\naccount to be mistaken. Virginity is for both the perfect state, marriage\nonly a make\u2010shift for the weak, and only as such to be held inviolable.\nThe highest effort, on the other hand, was directed to complete, material\nputting off of self. The self must turn and refrain from all that tends\nonly to its own pleasure, and that only temporarily.\u201d Lastly, p. 288: \u201cWe\nagree with the Abb\u00e9 Zaccaria, who asserts that celibacy (not the law of\ncelibacy) is before everything to be deduced from the teaching of Christ\nand the Apostle Paul.\u201d\n\nWhat is opposed to this specially Christian view is everywhere and always\nmerely the Old Testament, with its \u03c0\u03b1\u03bd\u03c4\u03b1 \u03ba\u03b1\u03bb\u03b1 \u03bb\u03b9\u03b1\u03bd. This appears with\npeculiar distinctness from that important third book of the Stromata of\nClement, where, arguing against the encratistic heretics mentioned above,\nhe constantly opposes to them only Judaism, with its optimistic history of\ncreation, with which the world\u2010denying tendency of the New Testament is\ncertainly in contradiction. But the connection of the New Testament with\nthe Old is at bottom only external, accidental, and forced; and the one\npoint at which Christian doctrine can link itself on to the latter is only\nto be found, as has been said, in the story of the fall, which, moreover,\nstands quite isolated in the Old Testament, and is made no further use of.\nBut, in accordance with the account in the Gospels, it is just the\northodox adherents of the Old Testament who bring about the crucifixion of\nthe founder of Christianity, because they find his teaching in conflict\nwith their own. In the said third book of the Stromata of Clement the\nantagonism between optimism with theism on the one hand, and pessimism\nwith ascetic morality on the other, comes out with surprising\ndistinctness. This book is directed against the Gnostics, who just taught\npessimism and asceticism, that is, \u03b5\u03b3\u03ba\u03c1\u03b1\u03c4\u03b5\u03b9\u03b1 (abstinence of every kind,\nbut especially from all sexual satisfaction); on account of which Clement\ncensures them vigorously. But, at the same time, it becomes apparent that\neven the spirit of the Old Testament stands in this antagonism with that\nof the New Testament. For, apart from the fall, which appears in the Old\nTestament like a _hors d\u2019\u0153uvre_, the spirit of the Old Testament is\ndiametrically opposed to that of the New Testament\u2014the former optimistic,\nthe latter pessimistic. Clement himself brings this contradiction out\nprominently at the end of the eleventh chapter (\u03c0\u03c1\u03bf\u03c3\u03b1\u03c0\u03bf\u03c4\u03b5\u03b9\u03bd\u03bf\u03bc\u03b5\u03bd\u03bf\u03bd \u03c4\u03bf\u03bd\n\u03a0\u03b1\u03c5\u03bb\u03bf\u03bd \u03c4\u1ff3 \u039a\u03c1\u03b9\u03c3\u03c4\u1fc3 \u03ba.\u03c4.\u03bb.), although he will not allow that it is a real\ncontradiction, but explains it as only apparent,\u2014like a good Jew, as he\nis. In general it is interesting to see how with Clement the New and the\nOld Testament get mixed up together; and he strives to reconcile them, yet\nfor the most part drives out the New Testament with the Old. Just at the\nbeginning of the third chapter he objects to the Marcionites that they\nfind fault with the creation, after the example of Plato and Pythagoras;\nfor Marcion teaches that nature is bad, made out of bad materials (\u03c6\u03c5\u03c3\u03b9\u03c2\n\u03ba\u03b1\u03ba\u03b7, \u03b5\u03ba \u03c4\u03b5 \u1f51\u03bb\u03b7\u03c2 \u03ba\u03b1\u03ba\u03b7\u03c2); therefore one ought not to people this world, but\nto abstain from marriage (\u03bc\u03b7 \u03b2\u03bf\u03c5\u03bb\u03bf\u03bc\u03b5\u03bd\u03bf\u03b9 \u03c4\u03bf\u03bd \u03ba\u03bf\u03c3\u03bc\u03bf\u03bd \u03c3\u03c5\u03bc\u03c0\u03bb\u03b7\u03c1\u03bf\u03c5\u03bd, \u03b1\u03c0\u03b5\u03c7\u03b5\u03c3\u03b8\u03b1\u03b9\n\u03b3\u03b1\u03bc\u03bf\u03c5). Now Clement, to whom in general the Old Testament is much more\ncongenial and convincing than the New, takes this very much amiss. He sees\nin it their flagrant ingratitude to and enmity and rebellion against him\nwho has made the world, the just demiurgus, whose work they themselves\nare, and yet despise the use of his creatures, in impious rebellion\n\u201cforsaking the natural opinion\u201d (\u03b1\u03bd\u03c4\u03b9\u03c4\u03b1\u03c3\u03c3\u03bf\u03bc\u03b5\u03bd\u03bf\u03b9 \u03c4\u1ff3 \u03c0\u03bf\u03b9\u03b7\u03c4\u1fc3 \u03c4\u1ff3 \u03c3\u03c6\u03c9\u03bd, ...\n\u03b5\u03b3\u03ba\u03c1\u03b1\u03c4\u03b5\u03b9\u03c2 \u03c4\u1fc3 \u03c0\u03c1\u03bf\u03c2 \u03c4\u03bf\u03bd \u03c0\u03b5\u03c0\u03bf\u03b9\u03b7\u03ba\u03bf\u03c4\u03b1 \u03b5\u03c7\u03b8\u03c1\u1fb3, \u03bc\u03b7 \u03b2\u03bf\u03c5\u03bb\u03bf\u03bc\u03b5\u03bd\u03bf\u03b9 \u03c7\u03c1\u03b7\u03c3\u03b8\u03b1\u03b9 \u03c4\u03bf\u03b9\u03c2 \u1f51\u03c0\u1fbd\n\u03b1\u03c5\u03c4\u03bf\u03c5 \u03ba\u03c4\u03b9\u03c3\u03b8\u03b5\u03b9\u03c3\u03b9\u03bd, ... \u03b1\u03c3\u03b5\u03b2\u03b5\u03b9 \u03b8\u03b5\u03bf\u03bc\u03b1\u03c7\u03b9\u1fb3 \u03c4\u03c9\u03bd \u03ba\u03b1\u03c4\u03b1 \u03c6\u03c5\u03c3\u03b9\u03bd \u03b5\u03ba\u03c3\u03c4\u03b1\u03bd\u03c4\u03b5\u03c2 \u03bb\u03bf\u03b3\u03b9\u03c3\u03bc\u03c9\u03b9).\nAt the same time, in his holy zeal, he will not allow the Marcionites even\nthe honour of originality, but, armed with his well\u2010known erudition, he\nbrings it against them, and supports his case with the most beautiful\nquotations, that even the ancient philosophers, that Heraclitus and\nEmpedocles, Pythagoras and Plato, Orpheus and Pindar, Herodotus and\nEuripides, and also the Sibyls, lamented deeply the wretched nature of the\nworld, thus taught pessimism. Now in this learned enthusiasm he does not\nobserve that in this way he is just giving the Marcionites water for their\nmill, for he shows that\n\n\n    \u201cAll the wisest of all the ages\u201d\n\n\nhave taught and sung what they do, but confidently and boldly he quotes\nthe most decided and energetic utterances of the ancients in this sense.\nCertainly they cannot lead him astray. Wise men may mourn the sadness of\nexistence, poets may pour out the most affecting lamentations about it,\nnature and experience may cry out as loudly as they will against\noptimism,\u2014all this does not touch our Church Father: he holds his Jewish\nrevelation in his hand, and remains confident. The demiurgus made the\nworld. From this it is _a priori_ certain that it is excellent, and it may\nlook as it likes. The same thing then takes place with regard to the\nsecond point, the \u03b5\u03b3\u03ba\u03c1\u03b1\u03c4\u03b5\u03b9\u03b1, through which, according to his view, the\nMarcionites show their ingratitude towards the demiurgus (\u03b1\u03c7\u03b1\u03c1\u03b9\u03c3\u03b5\u03b9\u03bd \u03c4\u1ff3\n\u03b4\u03b7\u03bc\u03b9\u03bf\u03c5\u03c1\u03b3\u1ff3) and the perversity with which they put from them all his gifts\n(\u03b4\u1f30 \u03b1\u03bd\u03c4\u03b9\u03c4\u03b1\u03be\u03b9\u03bd \u03c0\u03c1\u03bf\u03c2 \u03c4\u03bf\u03bd \u03b4\u03b7\u03bc\u03b9\u03bf\u03c5\u03c1\u03b3\u03bf\u03bd, \u03c4\u03b7\u03bd \u03c7\u03c1\u03b7\u03c3\u03b9\u03bd \u03c4\u03c9\u03bd \u03ba\u03bf\u03c3\u03bc\u03b9\u03ba\u03c9\u03bd \u03c0\u03b1\u03c1\u03b1\u03b9\u03c4\u03bf\u03c5\u03bc\u03b5\u03bd\u03bf\u03b9).\nHere now the tragic poets have preceded the Encratites (to the prejudice\nof their originality) and have said the same things. For since they also\nlament the infinite misery of existence, they have added that it is better\nto bring no children into such a world; which he now again supports with\nthe most beautiful passages, and, at the same time, accuses the\nPythagoreans of having renounced sexual pleasure on this ground. But all\nthis touches him not; he sticks to his principle that all these sin\nagainst the demiurgus, in that they teach that one ought not to marry,\nought not to beget children, ought not to bring new miserable beings into\nthe world, ought not to provide new food for death (\u03b4\u1f30 \u03b5\u03b3\u03ba\u03c1\u03b1\u03c4\u03b5\u03b9\u03b1\u03c2 \u03b1\u03c3\u03b5\u03b2\u03bf\u03c5\u03c3\u03b9\n\u03b5\u03b9\u03c2 \u03c4\u03b5 \u03c4\u03b7\u03bd \u03ba\u03c4\u03b9\u03c3\u03b9\u03bd \u03ba\u03b1\u03b9 \u03c4\u03bf\u03bd \u1f01\u03b3\u03b9\u03bf\u03bd \u03b4\u03b7\u03bc\u03b9\u03bf\u03c5\u03c1\u03b3\u03bf\u03bd, \u03c4\u03bf\u03bd \u03c0\u03b1\u03bd\u03c4\u03bf\u03ba\u03c1\u03b1\u03c4\u03bf\u03c1\u03b1 \u03bc\u03bf\u03bd\u03bf\u03bd \u03b8\u03b5\u03bf\u03bd,\n\u03ba\u03b1\u03b9 \u03b4\u03b9\u03b4\u03b1\u03c3\u03ba\u03bf\u03c5\u03c3\u03b9, \u03bc\u03b7 \u03b4\u03b5\u03b9\u03bd \u03c0\u03b1\u03c1\u03b1\u03b4\u03b5\u03c7\u03b5\u03c3\u03b8\u03b1\u03b9 \u03b3\u03b1\u03bc\u03bf\u03bd \u03ba\u03b1\u03b9 \u03c0\u03b1\u03b9\u03b4\u03bf\u03c0\u03bf\u03b9\u03ca\u03b1\u03bd, \u03bc\u03b7\u03b4\u03b5\n\u03b1\u03bd\u03c4\u03b5\u03b9\u03c3\u03b1\u03b3\u03b5\u03b9\u03bd \u03c4\u1ff3 \u03ba\u03bf\u03c3\u03bc\u1ff3 \u03b4\u03c5\u03c3\u03c4\u03c5\u03c7\u03b7\u03c3\u03bf\u03bd\u03c4\u03b1\u03c2 \u1f11\u03c4\u03b5\u03c1\u03bf\u03c5\u03c2, \u03bc\u03b7\u03b4\u03b5 \u03b5\u03c0\u03b9\u03c7\u03bf\u03c1\u03b7\u03b3\u03b5\u03b9\u03bd \u03b8\u03b1\u03bd\u03b1\u03c4\u1ff3\n\u03c4\u03c1\u03bf\u03c6\u03b7\u03bd\u2014c. 6). Since the learned Church Father thus denounces \u03b5\u03b3\u03ba\u03c1\u03b1\u03c4\u03b5\u03b9\u03b1, he\nseems to have had no presentiment that just after his time the celibacy of\nthe Christian priesthood would be more and more introduced, and finally,\nin the eleventh century, raised to the position of a law, because it is in\nkeeping with the spirit of the New Testament. It is just this spirit which\nthe Gnostics have grasped more profoundly and understood better than our\nChurch Father, who is more Jew than Christian. The conception of the\nGnostics comes out very clearly at the beginning of the ninth chapter,\nwhere the following passage is quoted from the Gospel of the Egyptians:\n\u0391\u03c5\u03c4\u03bf\u03c2 \u03b5\u03b9\u03c0\u03b5\u03bd \u1f41 \u03a3\u03c9\u03c4\u03b7\u03c1, \u201c\u03b7\u03bb\u03b8\u03bf\u03bd \u03ba\u03b1\u03c4\u03b1\u03bb\u03c5\u03c3\u03b1\u03b9 \u03c4\u03b1 \u03b5\u03c1\u03b3\u03b1 \u03c4\u03b7\u03c2 \u03b8\u03b7\u03bb\u03b5\u03b9\u03b1\u03c2;\u201d \u03b8\u03b7\u03bb\u03b5\u03b9\u03b1\u03c2 \u03bc\u03b5\u03bd,\n\u03c4\u03b7\u03c2 \u03b5\u03c0\u03b9\u03b8\u03c5\u03bc\u03b9\u03b1\u03c2; \u03b5\u03c1\u03b3\u03b1 \u03b4\u03b5, \u03b3\u03b5\u03bd\u03b5\u03c3\u03b9\u03bd \u03ba\u03b1\u03b9 \u03c6\u03b8\u03bf\u03c1\u03b1\u03bd (_Ajunt enim dixisse\nServatorem: ____veni ad dissolvendum opera femin\u00e6;____ femin\u00e6 quidem,\ncupiditatis; opera autem, generationem et interitum_); but quite specially\nat the end of the thirteenth and the beginning of the fourteenth chapter.\nThe Church certainly was obliged to consider how to set a religion upon\nits legs that could also walk and stand in the world as it is, and among\nmen; therefore it declared these persons to be heretics. At the conclusion\nof the seventh chapter our Church Father opposes Indian asceticism, as\nbad, to Christian Judaism; whereby the fundamental difference of the\nspirit of the two religions is clearly brought out. In Judaism and\nChristianity everything runs back to obedience or disobedience to the\ncommand of God: \u1f51\u03c0\u03b1\u03ba\u03bf\u03b7 \u03ba\u03b1\u03b9 \u03c0\u03b1\u03c1\u03b1\u03ba\u03bf\u03b7; as befits us creatures, \u1f21\u03bc\u03b9\u03bd, \u03c4\u03bf\u03b9\u03c2\n\u03c0\u03b5\u03c0\u03bb\u03b1\u03c3\u03bc\u03b5\u03bd\u03bf\u03b9\u03c2 \u1f51\u03c0\u03bf \u03c4\u03b7\u03c2 \u03c4\u03bf\u03c5 \u03a0\u03b1\u03bd\u03c4\u03bf\u03ba\u03c1\u03b1\u03c4\u03bf\u03c1\u03bf\u03c2 \u03b2\u03bf\u03c5\u03bb\u03b7\u03c3\u03b5\u03c9\u03c2 (_nobis, qui Omnipotentis\nvoluntate efficti sumus_), chap. 14. Then comes, as a second duty,\n\u03bb\u03b1\u03c4\u03c1\u03b5\u03c5\u03b5\u03b9\u03bd \u03b8\u03b5\u1ff3 \u03b6\u03c9\u03bd\u03c4\u03b9, to serve God, extol His works, and overflow with\nthankfulness. Certainly the matter has a very different aspect in\nBrahmanism and Buddhism, for in the latter all improvement and conversion,\nand the only deliverance we can hope for from this world of suffering,\nthis Sansara, proceeds from the knowledge of the four fundamental truths:\n(1) _dolor_; (2) _doloris ortus_; (3) _doloris interitus_; (4)\n_octopartita via ad doloris sedationem_ (_Dammapadam_, ed. Fausb\u00f6ll, p. 35\n_et_ 347). The explanation of these four truths will be found in Bournouf,\n\u201c_Introduct. \u00e0 l\u2019hist. du Buddhisme_,\u201d p. 629, and in all expositions of\nBuddhism.\n\nIn truth, Judaism, with its \u03c0\u03b1\u03bd\u03c4\u03b1 \u03ba\u03b1\u03bb\u03b1 \u03bb\u03b9\u03b1\u03bd, is not related to\nChristianity as regards its spirit and ethical tendency, but Brahmanism\nand Buddhism are. But the spirit and ethical tendency are what is\nessential in a religion, not the myths in which these are clothed. I\ntherefore cannot give up the belief that the doctrines of Christianity can\nin some way be derived from these primitive religions. I have pointed out\nsome traces of this in the second volume of the Parerga, \u00a7 179 (second\nedition, \u00a7 180). I have to add to these that Epiphanias (_H\u00e6retic_.\nxviii.) relates that the first Jewish Christians of Jerusalem, who called\nthemselves Nazarenes, refrained from all animal food. On account of this\norigin (or, at least, this agreement) Christianity belongs to the ancient,\ntrue and sublime faith of mankind, which is opposed to the false, shallow,\nand injurious optimism which exhibits itself in Greek paganism, Judaism,\nand Islamism. The Zend religion holds to a certain extent the mean,\nbecause it has opposed to Ormuzd a pessimistic counterpoise in Ahriman.\nFrom this Zend religion the Jewish religion proceeded, as J.G. Rhode has\nthoroughly proved in his book, \u201c_Die heilige Sage des Zendvolks_;\u201d from\nOrmuzd has come Jehovah, and from Ahriman, Satan, who, however, plays only\na very subordinate r\u00f4le in Judaism, indeed almost entirely disappears,\nwhereby then optimism gains the upper hand, and there only remains the\nmyth of the fall as a pessimistic element, which certainly (as the fable\nof Meschia and Meschiane) is derived from the Zend\u2010Avesta. Yet even this\nfalls into oblivion, till it is again taken up by Christianity along with\nSatan. Ormuzd himself, however, is derived from Brahmanism, although from\na lower region of it; he is no other than Indra, that subordinate god of\nthe firmament and the atmosphere, who is represented as frequently in\nrivalry with men. This has been very clearly shown by J.J. Schmidt in his\nwork on the relation of the Gnostic\u2010theosophic doctrines to the religions\nof the East. This Indra\u2010Ormuzd\u2010Jehovah had afterwards to pass over into\nChristianity, because this religion arose in Jud\u00e6a. But on account of the\ncosmopolitan character of Christianity he laid aside his own name to be\ndenoted in the language of each converted nation by the appellation of the\nsuperhuman beings he supplanted, as, \u0394\u03b5\u03bf\u03c2, _Deus_, which comes from the\nSanscrit _Deva_ (from which also devil comes), or among the Gothico\u2010\nGermanic peoples by the word God, _Gott_, which comes from _Odin_,\n_Wodan_, _Guodan_, _Godan_. In the same way he assumed in Islamism, which\nalso sprang from Judaism, the name of Allah, which also existed earlier in\nArabia. Analogous to this, the gods of the Greek Olympus, when in\nprehistoric times they were transplanted to Italy, also assumed the names\nof the previously reigning gods: hence among the Romans Zeus is called\nJupiter, Hera Juno, Hermes Mercury, &c. In China the first difficulty of\nthe missionaries arose from the fact that the Chinese language has no\nappellation of the kind and also no word for creating; for the three\nreligions of China know no gods either in the plural or in the\nsingular.(52)\n\nHowever the rest may be, that \u03c0\u03b1\u03bd\u03c4\u03b1 \u03ba\u03b1\u03bb\u03b1 \u03bb\u03b9\u03b1\u03bd of the Old Testament is\nreally foreign to true Christianity; for in the New Testament the world is\nalways spoken of as something to which one does not belong, which one does\nnot love, nay, whose lord is the devil.(53) This agrees with the ascetic\nspirit of the denial of one\u2019s self and the overcoming of the world which,\njust like the boundless love of one\u2019s neighbour, even of one\u2019s enemy, is\nthe fundamental characteristic which Christianity has in common with\nBrahmanism and Buddhism, and which proves their relationship. There is\nnothing in which one has to distinguish the kernel so carefully from the\nshell as in Christianity. Just because I prize this kernel highly I\nsometimes treat the shell with little ceremony; it is, however, thicker\nthan is generally supposed. Protestantism, since it has eliminated\nasceticism and its central point, the meritoriousness of celibacy, has\nalready given up the inmost kernel of Christianity, and so far is to be\nregarded as a falling away from it. This has become apparent in our own\nday by the gradual transition of Protestantism into shallow rationalism,\nthis modern Pelagianism, which ultimately degenerates into the doctrine of\na loving father, who has made the world, in order that things may go on\nvery pleasantly in it (in which case, then, he must certainly have\nfailed), and who, if one only conforms to his will in certain respects,\nwill also afterwards provide a still more beautiful world (with regard to\nwhich it is only a pity that it has such a fatal entrance). That may be a\ngood religion for comfortable, married, and enlightened Protestant\npastors; but it is no Christianity. Christianity is the doctrine of the\ndeep guilt of the human race through its existence alone, and the longing\nof the heart for deliverance from it, which, however, can only be attained\nby the greatest sacrifices and by the denial of one\u2019s own self, thus by an\nentire reversal of human nature. Luther may have been perfectly right from\nthe practical point of view, _i.e._, with reference to the Church scandal\nof his time, which he wished to remove, but not so from the theoretical\npoint of view. The more sublime a doctrine is, the more it is exposed to\nabuse at the hands of human nature, which, on the whole, is of a low and\nevil disposition: hence the abuses of Catholicism are so much more\nnumerous and so much greater than those of Protestantism. Thus, for\nexample, monasticism, that methodical denial of the will practised in\ncommon for the sake of mutual encouragement, is an institution of a\nsublime description, which, however, for this very reason is for the most\npart untrue to its spirit. The shocking abuses of the Church excited in\nthe honest mind of Luther a lofty indignation. But in consequence of this\nhe was led to desire to limit as much as possible the claims of\nChristianity itself, and for this end he first confined it to the words of\nthe Bible; but then, in his well\u2010meant zeal, he went too far, for he\nattacked the very heart of Christianity in the ascetic principle. For\nafter the withdrawal of the ascetic principle, the optimistic principle\nsoon necessarily took its place. But in religions, as in philosophy,\noptimism is a fundamental error which obstructs the path of all truth.\nFrom all this it seems to me that Catholicism is a shamefully abused, but\nProtestantism a degenerate Christianity; thus, that Christianity in\ngeneral has met the fate which befalls all that is noble, sublime, and\ngreat whenever it has to dwell among men.\n\nHowever, even in the very lap of Protestantism, the essentially ascetic\nand encratistic spirit of Christianity has made way for itself; and in\nthis case it has appeared in a phenomenon which perhaps has never before\nbeen equalled in magnitude and definiteness, the highly remarkable sect of\nthe Shakers, in North America, founded by an Englishwoman, Anne Lee, in\n1774. The adherents of this sect have already increased to 6000, who are\ndivided into fifteen communities, and inhabit a number of villages in the\nstates of New York and Kentucky, especially in the district of New\nLebanon, near Nassau village. The fundamental characteristic of their\nreligious rule of life is celibacy and entire abstention from all sexual\nsatisfaction. It is unanimously admitted, even by the English and\nAmericans who visit them, and who laugh and jeer at them in every other\nrespect, that this rule is strictly and with perfect honesty observed;\nalthough brothers and sisters sometimes even occupy the same house, eat at\nthe same table, nay, _dance_ together in the religious services in church.\nFor whoever has made that hardest of all sacrifices may _dance_ before the\nLord; he is a victor, he has overcome. Their singing in church consists in\ngeneral of cheerful, and partly even of merry, songs. The church\u2010dance,\nalso, which follows the sermon is accompanied by the singing of the rest.\nIt is a lively dance, performed in measured time, and concludes with a\ngalop, which is carried on till the dancers are exhausted. Between each\ndance one of their teachers cries aloud, \u201cThink, that ye rejoice before\nthe Lord for having slain your flesh; for this is here the only use we\nmake of our refractory limbs.\u201d To celibacy most of the other conditions\nlink themselves on of themselves. There are no families, and therefore\nthere is no private property, but community of goods. All are clothed\nalike, in Quaker fashion, and with great neatness. They are industrious\nand diligent: idleness is not endured. They have also the enviable rule\nthat they are to avoid all unnecessary noise, such as shouting, door\u2010\nslamming, whip\u2010cracking, loud knocking, &c. Their rule of life has been\nthus expressed by one of them: \u201cLead a life of innocence and purity, love\nyour neighbours as yourself, live at peace with all men, and refrain from\nwar, blood\u2010shed, and all violence against others, as well as from all\nstriving after worldly honour and distinction. Give to each his own, and\nfollow after holiness, without which no man can see the Lord. Do good to\nall so far as your opportunity and your power extends.\u201d They persuade no\none to join them, but test those who present themselves by a novitiate of\nseveral years. Moreover, every one is free to leave them; very rarely is\nany one expelled for misconduct. Adopted children are carefully educated,\nand only when they are grown up do they voluntarily join the sect. It is\nsaid that in the controversies of their ministers with Anglican clergy the\nlatter generally come off the worse, for the arguments consist of passages\nfrom the New Testament. Fuller accounts of them will be found particularly\nin Maxwell\u2019s \u201cRun through the United States,\u201d 1841; also in Benedict\u2019s\n\u201cHistory of all Religions,\u201d 1830; also in the _Times_, November 4, 1837,\nand in the German magazine _Columbus_, May number, 1831. A German sect in\nAmerica, very similar to them, who also live in strict celibacy and\ncontinence, are the Rappists. An account of them is given in F. Loher\u2019s\n\u201c_Geschichte und Zustande der Deutschen in Amerika_,\u201d 1853. In Russia also\nthe Raskolniks are a similar sect. The Gichtelians live also in strict\nchastity. But among the ancient Jews we already find a prototype of all\nthese sects, the Essenes, of whom even Pliny gives an account (_Hist.\nNat._, v. 15), and who resembled the Shakers very much, not only in\ncelibacy, but also in other respects; for example, in dancing during\ndivine service, which leads to the opinion that the founder of the Shakers\ntook the Essenes as a pattern. In the presence of such facts as these how\ndoes Luther\u2019s assertion look: \u201c_Ubi natura, quemadmodum a Deo nobis insita\nest, fertur ac rapitur_, FIERI NULLO MODO POTEST, _ut extra matrimonium\ncaste vivatur_\u201d? (_Catech. maj._)\n\nAlthough Christianity, in essential respects, taught only what all Asia\nknew long before, and even better, yet for Europe it was a new and great\nrevelation, in consequence of which the spiritual tendency of the European\nnations was therefore entirely transformed. For it disclosed to them the\nmetaphysical significance of existence, and therefore taught them to look\naway from the narrow, paltry, ephemeral life of earth, and to regard it no\nlonger as an end in itself, but as a condition of suffering, guilt, trial,\nconflict, and purification, out of which, by means of moral achievements,\ndifficult renunciation, and denial of oneself, one may rise to a better\nexistence, which is inconceivable by us. It taught the great truth of the\nassertion and denial of the will to live in the clothing of allegory by\nsaying that through Adam\u2019s fall the curse has come upon all, sin has come\ninto the world, and guilt is inherited by all; but that, on the other\nhand, through the sacrificial death of Jesus all are reconciled, the world\nsaved, guilt abolished, and justice satisfied. In order, however, to\nunderstand the truth itself that is contained in this myth one must not\nregard men simply in time, as beings independent of each other, but must\ncomprehend the (Platonic) Idea of man, which is related to the series of\nmen, as eternity in itself is related to eternity drawn out as time; hence\nthe eternal Idea _man_ extended in time to the series of men through the\nconnecting bond of generation appears again in time as a whole. If now we\nkeep the Idea of man in view, we see that Adam\u2019s fall represents the\nfinite, animal, sinful nature of man, in respect of which he is a finite\nbeing, exposed to sin, suffering, and death. On the other hand, the life,\nteaching, and death of Jesus Christ represent the eternal, supernatural\nside, the freedom, the salvation of man. Now every man, as such and\n_potenti\u00e2_, is both Adam and Jesus, according as he comprehends himself,\nand his will thereupon determines him; in consequence of which he is then\ncondemned and given over to death, or saved and attains to eternal life.\nNow these truths, both in their allegorical and in their real acceptation,\nwere completely new as far as Greeks and Romans were concerned, who were\nstill entirely absorbed in life, and did not seriously look beyond it. Let\nwhoever doubts this see how Cicero (_Pro Cluentio_, c. 61) and Sallust\n(_Catil._, c. 47) speak of the state after death. The ancients, although\nfar advanced in almost everything else, remained children with regard to\nthe chief concern, and were surpassed in this even by the Druids, who at\nleast taught metempsychosis. That one or two philosophers, like Pythagoras\nand Plato, thought otherwise alters nothing as regards the whole.\n\nThat great fundamental truth, then, which is contained in Christianity, as\nin Brahmanism and Buddhism, the need of deliverance from an existence\nwhich is given up to suffering and death, and the attainableness of this\nby the denial of the will, thus by a decided opposition to nature, is\nbeyond all comparison the most important truth there can be; but, at the\nsame time, it is entirely opposed to the natural tendency of the human\nrace, and in its true grounds it is difficult to comprehend; as indeed all\nthat can only be thought generally and in the abstract is inaccessible to\nthe great majority of men. Therefore for these men there was everywhere\nrequired, in order to bring that great truth within the sphere of its\npractical application, _a mythical vehicle_ for it, as it were a\nreceptacle, without which it would be lost and dissipated. The truth had\ntherefore everywhere to borrow the garb of the fable, and also constantly\nto endeavour to connect itself with what in each case was historically\ngiven, already familiar, and already revered. What _sensu proprio_\nremained inaccessible to the great mass of mankind of all ages and lands,\nwith their low tone of mind, their intellectual stupidity and general\nbrutality, had, for practical purposes, to be brought home to them _sensu\nallegorico_, in order to become their guiding star. So, then, the\nreligions mentioned above are to be regarded as the sacred vessels in\nwhich the great truth, known and expressed for several thousand years,\nindeed perhaps since the beginning of the human race, which yet in itself,\nfor the great mass of mankind always remains a mystery, is, according to\nthe measure of their powers, made accessible to them, preserved and\ntransmitted through the centuries. Yet, because all that does not through\nand through consist of the imperishable material of pure truth is subject\nto destruction, whenever this fate befalls such a vessel, through contact\nwith a heterogeneous age, its sacred content must in some way be saved and\npreserved for mankind by another. But it is the task of philosophy, since\nit is one with pure truth, to present that content pure and unmixed, thus\nmerely in abstract conceptions, and consequently without that vehicle, for\nthose who are capable of thinking, who are always an exceedingly small\nnumber. It is therefore related to religions as a straight line to several\ncurves running near it: for it expresses _sensu proprio_, thus reaches\ndirectly, what they show in veiled forms and reach by circuitous routes.\n\nIf now, in order to illustrate what has just been said by an example, and\nalso to follow a philosophical fashion of my time, I should wish perhaps\nto attempt to solve the profoundest mystery of Christianity, that of the\nTrinity, in the fundamental conception of my philosophy, this could be\ndone, with the licence permitted in such interpretations, in the following\nmanner. The Holy Ghost is the distinct denial of the will to live: the man\nin whom this exhibits itself _in concreto_ is the Son; He is identical\nwith the will which asserts life, and thereby produces the phenomenon of\nthis perceptible world, _i.e._, with the Father, because the assertion and\ndenial are opposite acts of the same will whose capability for both is the\nonly true freedom. However, this is to be regarded as a mere _lusus\ningenii_.\n\nBefore I close this chapter I wish to adduce a few proofs in support of\nwhat in \u00a7 68 of the first volume I denoted by the expression \u0394\u03b5\u03c5\u03c4\u03c5\u03c1\u03bf\u03c2\n\u03c0\u03bb\u03bf\u03c5\u03c2, the bringing about of the denial of the will by one\u2019s own deeply\nfelt suffering, thus not merely by the appropriation of the suffering of\nothers, and the knowledge of the vanity and wretchedness of our existence\nintroduced by this. We can arrive at a comprehension of what goes on in\nthe heart of a man, in the case of an elevation of this kind and the\naccompanying purifying process, by considering what every emotional man\nexperiences on beholding a tragedy, which is of kindred nature to this. In\nthe third and fourth acts perhaps such a man is distressed and disturbed\nby the ever more clouded and threatened happiness of the hero; but when,\nin the fifth act, this happiness is entirely wrecked and shattered, he\nexperiences a certain elevation of the soul, which affords him an\ninfinitely higher kind of pleasure than the sight of the happiness of the\nhero, however great it might be, could ever have given. Now this is the\nsame thing, in the weak water\u2010colours of sympathy which is able to raise a\nwell\u2010known illusion, as that which takes place with the energy of reality\nin the feeling of our own fate when it is heavy misfortune that drives the\nman at last into the haven of entire resignation. Upon this occurrence\ndepend all those conversions which completely transform men such as are\ndescribed in the text. I may give here in a few words the story of the\nconversion of the Abb\u00e9 Ranc\u00e9, as it is strikingly similar to that of\nRaymond Lully, which is told in the text, and besides this is memorable on\naccount of its result. His youth was devoted to enjoyment and pleasure;\nfinally, he lived in a relation of passion with a Madame de Montbazon. One\nevening, when he visited her, he found her room empty, in disorder and\ndarkness. He struck something with his foot; it was her head, which had\nbeen severed from the trunk, because after her sudden death her corpse\ncould not otherwise be got into the lead coffin that stood beside it.\nAfter overcoming an immense sorrow, Ranc\u00e9 now became, in 1663, the\nreformer of the order of the Trappists, which at that time had entirely\nrelaxed the strictness of its rules. He joined this order, and through him\nit was led back to that terrible degree of renunciation which is still\nmaintained at the present day at La Trappe, and, as the methodically\ncarried out denial of the will, aided by the severest renunciation and an\nincredibly hard and painful manner of life, fills the visitor with sacred\nawe, after he has been touched at his reception by the humility of these\ngenuine monks, who, emaciated by fasting, by cold, by night watches,\nprayers and penances, kneel before him, the worldling and the sinner, to\nimplore his blessing. Of all orders of monks, this one alone has\nmaintained itself in perfection in France, through all changes; which is\nto be attributed to the profound earnestness which in it is unmistakable,\nand excludes all secondary ends. It has remained untouched even by the\ndecline of religion, because its root lies deeper in human nature than any\npositive system of belief.\n\nI have mentioned in the text that this great and rapid change of the\ninmost being of man which we are here considering, and which has hitherto\nbeen entirely neglected by philosophers, appears most frequently when,\nwith full consciousness, he stands in the presence of a violent and\ncertain death, thus in the case of executions. But, in order to bring this\nprocess much more distinctly before our eyes, I regard it as by no means\nunbecoming to the dignity of philosophy to quote what has been said by\nsome criminals before their execution, even at the risk of incurring the\nsneer that I encourage gallows\u2019 sermons. I certainly rather believe that\nthe gallows is a place of quite peculiar revelations, and a watch\u2010tower\nfrom which the man who even then retains his presence of mind obtains a\nwider, clearer outlook into eternity than most philosophers over the\nparagraphs of their rational psychology and theology. The following speech\non the gallows was made on the 15th April, 1837, at Gloucester, by a man\ncalled Bartlett, who had murdered his mother\u2010in\u2010law: \u201cEnglishmen and\nfellow countrymen,\u2014I have a few words to say to you, and they shall be but\nvery few. Yet let me entreat you, one and all, that these few words that I\nshall utter may strike deep into your hearts. Bear them in your mind, not\nonly now while you are witnessing this sad scene, but take them to your\nhomes, take them, and repeat them to your children and friends. I implore\nyou as a dying man\u2014one for whom the instrument of death is even now\nprepared\u2014and these words are that you may loose yourselves from the love\nof this dying world and its vain pleasures. Think less of it and more of\nyour God. Do this: repent, repent, for be assured that without deep and\ntrue repentance, without turning to your heavenly Father, you will never\nattain, nor can hold the slightest hope of ever reaching those bowers of\nbliss to which I trust I am now fast advancing\u201d (_Times_, 18th April\n1837).\n\nStill more remarkable are the last words of the well\u2010known murderer,\nGreenacre, who was executed in London on the 1st of May 1837. The English\nnewspaper the _Post_ gives the following account, which is also reprinted\nin _Galignani\u2019s Messenger_ of the 6th of May 1837: \u201cOn the morning of his\nexecution a gentleman advised him to put his trust in God, and pray for\nforgiveness through the mediation of Jesus Christ. Greenacre replied that\nforgiveness through the mediation of Christ was a matter of opinion; for\nhis part, he believed that in the sight of the highest Being, a Mohammedan\nwas as good as a Christian and had just as much claim to salvation. Since\nhis imprisonment he had had his attention directed to theological\nsubjects, and he had become convinced that the gallows is a passport to\nheaven.\u201d The indifference displayed here towards positive religions is\njust what gives this utterance greater weight, for it shows that it is no\nfanatical delusion, but individual immediate knowledge that lies at its\nfoundation. The following incident may also be mentioned which is given by\n_Galignani\u2019s Messenger_ of the 15th August 1837, from the _Limerick\nChronicle_: \u201cLast Monday Maria Cooney was executed for the revolting\nmurder of Mrs. Anderson. So deeply was this wretched woman impressed with\nthe greatness of her crime that she kissed the rope which was put round\nher neck, while she humbly implored the mercy of God.\u201d Lastly this: the\n_Times_, of the 29th April 1845 gives several letters which Hocker, who\nwas condemned for the murder of Delarue, wrote the day before his\nexecution. In one of these he says: \u201cI am persuaded that unless the\nnatural heart be broken, and renewed by divine mercy, however noble and\namiable it may be deemed by the world, it can never think of eternity\nwithout inwardly shuddering.\u201d These are the outlooks into eternity\nreferred to above which are obtained from that watch\u2010tower; and I have had\nthe less hesitation in giving them here since Shakspeare also says\u2014\n\n\n        \u201cOut of these convertites\n    There is much matter to be heard and learned.\u201d\n\n    \u2014_As You Like it_, last scene.\n\n\nStrauss, in his \u201cLife of Jesus,\u201d has proved that Christianity also\nascribes to suffering as such the purifying and sanctifying power here set\nforth (_Leben Jesu_, vol. i. ch. 6, \u00a7\u00a7 72 and 74). He says that the\nbeatitudes in the Sermon on the Mount have a different sense in Luke (vi.\n21) from that which they have in Matt. (v. 3), for only the latter adds \u03c4\u1ff3\n\u03c0\u03bd\u03b5\u03c5\u03bc\u03b1\u03c4\u03b9 to \u03bc\u03b1\u03ba\u03b1\u03c1\u03b9\u03bf\u03b9 \u03bf\u1f31 \u03c0\u03c4\u03c9\u03c7\u03bf\u03b9, and \u03c4\u03b7\u03bd \u03b4\u03b9\u03ba\u03b1\u03b9\u03bf\u03c3\u03c5\u03bd\u03b7\u03bd to \u03c0\u03b5\u03b9\u03bd\u03c9\u03bd\u03c4\u03b5\u03c2. Thus by\nhim alone are the simple\u2010minded, the humble, &c., meant, while by Luke are\nmeant the literally poor; so that here the contrast is that between\npresent suffering and future happiness. With the Ebionites it is a capital\nprinciple that whoever takes his portion in this age gets nothing in the\nfuture, and conversely. Accordingly in Luke the blessings are followed by\nas many \u03bf\u03c5\u03b1\u03b9, woes, which are addressed to the rich, \u03bf\u1f31 \u03c0\u03bb\u03bf\u03c5\u03c3\u03b9\u03bf\u03b9, the\nfull, \u03bf\u1f31 \u03b5\u03bc\u03c0\u03b5\u03c0\u03bb\u03b7\u03c3\u03bc\u03b5\u03bd\u03bf\u03b9, and to them that laugh, \u03bf\u1f31 \u03b3\u03b5\u03bb\u03c9\u03bd\u03c4\u03b5\u03c2, in the\nEbionite spirit. In the same spirit, he says, p. 604, is the parable (Luke\nxvi. 19) of the rich man and Lazarus given, which nowhere mentions any\nfault of the former or any merit of the latter, and takes as the standard\nof the future recompense, not the good done or the wickedness practised,\nbut the evil suffered here and the good things enjoyed, in the Ebionite\nspirit. \u201cA like estimation of outward poverty,\u201d Strauss goes on, \u201cis also\nattributed to Jesus by the other synoptists (Matt. xix. 16; Mark x. 17;\nLuke xviii. 18), in the story of the rich young man and the saying about\nthe camel and the eye of a needle.\u201d\n\nIf we go to the bottom of the matter we will recognise that even in the\nmost famous passages of the Sermon on the Mount there is contained an\nindirect injunction to voluntary poverty, and thereby to the denial of the\nwill to live. For the precept (Matt. v. 40 _seq._) to consent\nunconditionally to all demands made upon us, to give our cloak also to him\nwho will take away our coat, &c., similarly (Matt. vi. 25\u201034) the precept\nto cast aside all care for the future, even for the morrow, and so to live\nsimply in the present, are rules of life the observance of which\ninevitably leads to absolute poverty, and which therefore just say in an\nindirect manner what Buddha directly commands his disciples and has\nconfirmed by his own example: throw everything away and become bhikkhu,\n_i.e._, beggars. This appears still more decidedly in the passage Matt. x.\n9\u201015, where all possessions, even shoes and a staff, are forbidden to the\nApostles, and they are directed to beg. These commands afterwards became\nthe foundation of the mendicant order of St. Francis (_Bonaventur\u00e6 vita S.\nFrancisci_, c. 3). Hence, then, I say that the spirit of Christian ethics\nis identical with that of Brahmanism and Buddhism. In conformity with the\nwhole view expounded here Meister Eckhard also says (Works, vol. i. p.\n492): \u201cThe swiftest animal that bears thee to perfection is suffering.\u201d\n\n\n\n\nChapter XLIX. The Way Of Salvation.\n\n\nThere is only one inborn error, and that is, that we exist in order to be\nhappy. It is inborn in us because it is one with our existence itself, and\nour whole being is only a paraphrase of it, nay, our body is its monogram.\nWe are nothing more than will to live and the successive satisfaction of\nall our volitions is what we think in the conception of happiness.\n\nAs long as we persist in this inborn error, indeed even become rigidly\nfixed in it through optimistic dogmas, the world appears to us full of\ncontradictions. For at every step, in great things as in small, we must\nexperience that the world and life are by no means arranged with a view to\ncontaining a happy existence. While now by this the thoughtless man only\nfinds himself tormented in reality, in the case of him who thinks there is\nadded to his real pain the theoretical perplexity why a world and a life\nwhich exist in order that one may be happy in them answer their end so\nbadly. First of all it finds expression in pious ejaculations, such as,\n\u201cAh! why are the tears on earth so many?\u201d &c. &c. But in their train come\ndisquieting doubts about the assumptions of those preconceived optimistic\ndogmas. One may try if one will to throw the blame of one\u2019s individual\nunhappiness now upon the circumstances, now upon other men, now upon one\u2019s\nown bad luck, or even upon one\u2019s own awkwardness, and may know well how\nall these have worked together to produce it; but this in no way alters\nthe result that one has missed the real end of life, which consists indeed\nin being happy. The consideration of this is, then, often very depressing,\nespecially if life is already on the wane; hence the countenances of\nalmost all elderly persons wear the expression of that which in English is\ncalled disappointment. Besides this, however, hitherto every day of our\nlife has taught us that joys and pleasures, even if attained, are in\nthemselves delusive, do not perform what they promise, do not satisfy the\nheart, and finally their possession is at least embittered by the\ndisagreeables that accompany them or spring from them; while, on the\ncontrary, the pains and sorrows prove themselves very real, and often\nexceed all expectation. Thus certainly everything in life is calculated to\nrecall us from that original error, and to convince us that the end of our\nexistence is not to be happy. Indeed, if we regard it more closely and\nwithout prejudice, life rather presents itself as specially intended to be\nsuch that we shall _not_ feel ourselves happy in it, for through its whole\nnature it bears the character of something for which we have no taste,\nwhich must be endured by us, and from which we have to return as from an\nerror that our heart may be cured of the passionate desire of enjoyment,\nnay, of life, and turned away from the world. In this sense, it would be\nmore correct to place the end of life in our woe than in our welfare. For\nthe considerations at the conclusion of the preceding chapter have shown\nthat the more one suffers the sooner one attains to the true end of life,\nand that the more happily one lives the longer this is delayed. The\nconclusion of the last letter of Seneca corresponds with this: _bonum tunc\nhabebis tuum, quum intelliges infelicissimos esse felices_; which\ncertainly seems to show the influence of Christianity. The peculiar effect\nof the tragic drama also ultimately depends upon the fact that it shakes\nthat inborn error by vividly presenting in a great and striking example\nthe vanity of human effort and the nothingness of this whole existence,\nand thus discloses the profound significance of life; hence it is\nrecognised as the sublimest form of poetry. Whoever now has returned by\none or other path from that error which dwells in us _a priori_, that\n\u03c0\u03c1\u03c9\u03c4\u03bf\u03c5 \u03c8\u03b5\u03c5\u03b4\u03bf\u03c2 of our existence, will soon see all in another light, and\nwill now find the world in harmony with his insight, although not with his\nwishes. Misfortunes of every kind and magnitude, although they pain him,\nwill no longer surprise him, for he has come to see that it is just pain\nand trouble that tend towards the true end of life, the turning away of\nthe will from it. This will give him indeed a wonderful composedness in\nall that may happen, similar to that with which a sick person who\nundergoes a long and painful cure bears the pain of it as a sign of its\nefficacy. In the whole of human existence suffering expresses itself\nclearly enough as its true destiny. Life is deeply sunk in suffering, and\ncannot escape from it; our entrance into it takes place amid tears, its\ncourse is at bottom always tragic, and its end still more so. There is an\nunmistakable appearance of intention in this. As a rule man\u2019s destiny\npasses through his mind in a striking manner, at the very summit of his\ndesires and efforts, and thus his life receives a tragic tendency by\nvirtue of which it is fitted to free him from the passionate desire of\nwhich every individual existence is an example, and bring him into such a\ncondition that he parts with life without retaining a single desire for it\nand its pleasures. Suffering is, in fact, the purifying process through\nwhich alone, in most cases, the man is sanctified, _i.e._, is led back\nfrom the path of error of the will to live. In accordance with this, the\nsalutary nature of the cross and of suffering is so often explained in\nChristian books of edification, and in general the cross, an instrument of\nsuffering, not of doing, is very suitably the symbol of the Christian\nreligion. Nay, even the Preacher, who is still Jewish, but so very\nphilosophical, rightly says: \u201cSorrow is better than laughter: for by the\nsadness of the countenance the heart is made better\u201d (Eccles. vii. 3).\nUnder the name of the \u03b4\u03b5\u03bd\u03c4\u03c1\u03bf\u03c2 \u03c0\u03bb\u03bf\u03c5\u03c2 I have presented suffering as to a\ncertain extent a substitute for virtue and holiness; but here I must make\nthe bold assertion that, taking everything into consideration, we have\nmore to hope for our salvation and deliverance from what we suffer than\nfrom what we do. Precisely in this spirit Lamartine very beautifully says\nin his \u201c_Hymne \u00e0 la douleur_,\u201d apostrophising pain:\u2014\n\n\n    \u201c_Tu me traites sans doute en favori des cieux,_\n    _Car tu n\u2019\u00e9pargnes pas les larmes \u00e0 mes yeux._\n    _Eh bien! je les re\u00e7ois comme tu les envoies,_\n    _Tes maux seront mes biens, et tes soupirs mes joies._\n    _Je sens qu\u2019il est en toi, sans avoir combattu,_\n    _Une vertu divine au lieu de ma vertu,_\n    _Que tu n\u2019es pas la mort l\u2019\u00e2me, mais sa vie,_\n    _Que ton bras, en frappant, gu\u00e9rit et vivifie._\u201d\n\n\nIf, then, suffering itself has such a sanctifying power, this will belong\nin an even higher degree to death, which is more feared than any\nsuffering. Answering to this, a certain awe, kindred to that which great\nsuffering occasions us, is felt in the presence of every dead person,\nindeed every case of death presents itself to a certain extent as a kind\nof apotheosis or canonisation; therefore we cannot look upon the dead body\nof even the most insignificant man without awe, and indeed, extraordinary\nas the remark may sound in this place, in the presence of every corpse the\nwatch goes under arms. Dying is certainly to be regarded as the real aim\nof life: in the moment of death all that is decided for which the whole\ncourse of life was only the preparation and introduction. Death is the\nresult, the _R\u00e9sum\u00e9_ of life, or the added up sum which expresses at once\nthe instruction which life gave in detail, and bit by bit; this, that the\nwhole striving whose manifestation is life was a vain, idle, and self\u2010\ncontradictory effort, to have returned from which is a deliverance. As the\nwhole, slow vegetation of the plant is related to the fruit, which now at\na stroke achieves a hundredfold what the plant achieved gradually and bit\nby bit, so life, with its obstacles, deluded hopes, frustrated plans, and\nconstant suffering, is related to death, which at one stroke destroys all,\nall that the man has willed, and so crowns the instruction which life gave\nhim. The completed course of life upon which the dying man looks back has\nan effect upon the whole will that objectifies itself in this perishing\nindividuality, analogous to that which a motive exercises upon the conduct\nof the man. It gives it a new direction, which accordingly is the moral\nand essential result of the life. Just because a sudden death makes this\nretrospect impossible, the Church regards such a death as a misfortune,\nand prays that it should be averted. Since this retrospect, like the\ndistinct foreknowledge of death, as conditioned by the reason, is possible\nonly in man, not in the brute, and accordingly man alone really drinks the\ncup of death, humanity is the only material in which the will can deny\nitself and entirely turn away from life. To the will that does not deny\nitself every birth imparts a new and different intellect,\u2014till it has\nlearned the true nature of life, and in consequence of this wills it no\nmore.\n\nIn the natural course, in age the decay of the body coincides with that of\nthe will. The desire for pleasures soon vanishes with the capacity to\nenjoy them. The occasion of the most vehement willing, the focus of the\nwill, the sexual impulse, is first extinguished, whereby the man is placed\nin a position which resembles the state of innocence which existed before\nthe development of the genital system. The illusions, which set up\nchimeras as exceedingly desirable benefits, vanish, and the knowledge of\nthe vanity of all earthly blessings takes their place. Selfishness is\nrepressed by the love of one\u2019s children, by means of which the man already\nbegins to live more in the ego of others than in his own, which now will\nsoon be no more. This course of life is at least the desirable one; it is\nthe euthanasia of the will. In hope of this the Brahman is ordered, after\nhe has passed the best years of his life, to forsake possessions and\nfamily, and lead the life of a hermit (_Menu_, B. 6), But if, conversely,\nthe desire outlives the capacity for enjoyment, and we now regret\nparticular pleasures in life which we miss, instead of seeing the\nemptiness and vanity of all; and if then gold, the abstract representative\nof the objects of desire for which the sense is dead, takes the place of\nall these objects themselves, and now excites the same vehement passions\nwhich were formerly more pardonably awakened by the objects of actual\npleasure, and thus now with deadened senses a lifeless but indestructible\nobject is desired with equally indestructible eagerness; or, also, if, in\nthe same way, existence in the opinion of others takes the place of\nexistence and action in the real world, and now kindles the same\npassions;\u2014then the will has become sublimated and etherealised into\navarice or ambition; but has thereby thrown itself into the last fortress,\nin which it can only now be besieged by death. The end of existence has\nbeen missed.\n\nAll these considerations afford us a fuller explanation of that\npurification, conversion of the will and deliverance, denoted in the\npreceding chapter by the expression \u03b4\u03b5\u03c5\u03c4\u03b5\u03c1\u03bf\u03c2 \u03c0\u03bb\u03bf\u03c5\u03c2 which is brought about\nby the suffering of life, and without doubt is the most frequent. For it\nis the way of sinners such as we all are. The other way, which leads to\nthe same goal, by means of mere knowledge and the consequent appropriation\nof the suffering of a whole world, is the narrow path of the elect, the\nsaints, and therefore to be regarded as a rare exception. Therefore\nwithout that first way for most of us there would be no salvation to hope\nfor. However, we struggle against entering upon it, and strive rather to\nprocure for ourselves a safe and agreeable existence, whereby we chain our\nwill ever more firmly to life. The conduct of the ascetics is the opposite\nof this. They make their life intentionally as poor, hard, and empty of\npleasure as possible, because they have their true and ultimate welfare in\nview. But fate and the course of things care for us better than we\nourselves, for they frustrate on all sides our arrangements for an utopian\nlife, the folly of which is evident enough from its brevity, uncertainty,\nand emptiness, and its conclusion by bitter death; they strew thorns upon\nthorns in our path, and meet us everywhere with healing sorrow, the\npanacea of our misery. What really gives its wonderful and ambiguous\ncharacter to our life is this, that two diametrically opposite aims\nconstantly cross each other in it; that of the individual will directed to\nchimerical happiness in an ephemeral, dream\u2010like, and delusive existence,\nin which, with reference to the past, happiness and unhappiness are a\nmatter of indifference, and the present is every moment becoming the past;\nand that of fate visibly enough directed to the destruction of our\nhappiness, and thereby to the mortification of our will and the abolition\nof the illusion that holds us chained in the bonds of this world.\n\nThe prevalent and peculiarly Protestant view that the end of life lies\nsolely and immediately in the moral virtues, thus in the practice of\njustice and benevolence, betrays its insufficiency even in the fact that\nso miserably little real and pure morality is found among men. I am not\nspeaking at all of lofty virtue, nobleness, magnanimity, and self\u2010\nsacrifice, which one hardly finds anywhere but in plays and novels, but\nonly of those virtues which are the duty of every one. Let whoever is old\nthink of all those with whom he has had to do; how many persons will he\nhave met who were merely really and truly _honest_? Were not by far the\ngreater number, in spite of their shameless indignation at the slightest\nsuspicion of dishonesty or even untruthfulness, in plain words, the\nprecise opposite? Were not abject selfishness, boundless avarice, well\u2010\nconcealed knavery, and also poisonous envy and fiendish delight in the\nmisfortunes of others so universally prevalent that the slightest\nexception was met with surprise? And benevolence, how very rarely it\nextends beyond a gift of what is so superfluous that one never misses it.\nAnd is the whole end of existence to lie in such exceedingly rare and weak\ntraces of morality? If we place it, on the contrary, in the entire\nreversal of this nature of ours (which bears the evil fruits just\nmentioned) brought about by suffering, the matter gains an appearance of\nprobability and is brought into agreement with what actually lies before\nus. Life presents itself then as a purifying process, of which the\npurifying lye is pain. If the process is carried out, it leaves behind it\nthe previous immorality and wickedness as refuse, and there appears what\nthe Veda says: \u201c_Finditur nodus cordis, dissolvuntur omnes dubitationes,\nejusque opera evanescunt._\u201d As agreeing with this view the fifteenth\nsermon of Meister Eckhard will be found very well worth reading.\n\n\n\n\nChapter L. Epiphilosophy.\n\n\nAt the conclusion of my exposition a few reflections concerning my\nphilosophy itself may find their place. My philosophy does not pretend to\nexplain the existence of the world in its ultimate grounds: it rather\nsticks to the facts of external and internal experience as they are\naccessible to every one, and shows the true and deepest connection of them\nwithout really going beyond them to any extra\u2010mundane things and their\nrelations to the world. It therefore arrives at no conclusions as to what\nlies beyond all possible experience, but affords merely an exposition of\nwhat is given in the external world and in self\u2010consciousness, thus\ncontents itself with comprehending the nature of the world in its inner\nconnection with itself. It is consequently _immanent_, in the Kantian\nsense of the word. But just on this account it leaves many questions\nuntouched; for example, why what is proved as a fact is as it is and not\notherwise, &c. All such questions, however, or rather the answers to them,\nare really transcendent, _i.e._, they cannot be thought by the forms and\nfunctions of our intellect, do not enter into these; it is therefore\nrelated to them as our sensibility is related to the possible properties\nof bodies for which we have no senses. After all my explanations one may\nstill ask, for example, whence has sprung this will that is free to assert\nitself, the manifestation of which is the world, or to deny itself, the\nmanifestation of which we do not know. What is the fatality lying beyond\nall experience which has placed it in the very doubtful dilemma of either\nappearing as a world in which suffering and death reign, or else denying\nits very being?\u2014or again, what can have prevailed upon it to forsake the\ninfinitely preferable peace of blessed nothingness? An individual will,\none may add, can only turn to its own destruction through error in the\nchoice, thus through the fault of knowledge; but the will in itself,\nbefore all manifestation, consequently still without knowledge, how could\nit go astray and fall into the ruin of its present condition? Whence in\ngeneral is the great discord that permeates this world? It may, further,\nbe asked how deep into the true being of the world the roots of\nindividuality go; to which it may certainly be answered: they go as deep\nas the assertion of the will to live; where the denial of the will appears\nthey cease, for they have arisen with the assertion. But one might indeed\neven put the question, \u201cWhat would I be if I were not will to live?\u201d and\nmore of the same kind. To all such questions we would first have to reply\nthat the expression of the most universal and general form of our\nintellect is the _principle of sufficient reason_; but that just on this\naccount that principle finds application only to the phenomenon, not to\nthe being in itself of things. Yet all whence and why depend upon that\nprinciple alone. As a result of the Kantian philosophy it is no longer an\n_\u00e6terna veritas_, but merely the form, _i.e._, the function, of our\nintellect, which is essentially cerebral, and originally a mere tool in\nthe service of the will, which it therefore presupposes together with all\nits objectifications. But our whole knowing and conceiving is bound to its\nforms; accordingly we must conceive everything in time, consequently as a\nbefore and after, then as cause and effect, and also as above and below,\nwhole and part, &c., and cannot by any means escape from this sphere in\nwhich all possibility of our knowledge lies. Now these forms are utterly\nunsuited to the problems raised here, nor are they fit or able to\ncomprehend their solution even if it were given. Therefore with our\nintellect, this mere tool of the will, we are everywhere striking upon\ninsoluble problems, as against the walls of our prison. But, besides this,\nit may at least be assumed as probable that not only _for us_ is knowledge\nof all that has been asked about impossible, but no such knowledge is\npossible in general, thus never and in no way; that these relations are\nnot only relatively but absolutely insusceptible of investigation; that\nnot only does no one know them, but that they are in themselves\nunknowable, because they do not enter into the form of knowledge in\ngeneral. (This corresponds to what Scotus Erigena says, _de mirabili\ndivina ignorantia, qua Deus non intelligit quid ipse sit_. Lib. ii.) For\nknowableness in general, with its most essential, and therefore constantly\nnecessary form of subject and object, belongs merely to the phenomenal\nappearance, not to the being in itself of things. Where knowledge, and\nconsequently idea, is, there is also only phenomenon, and we stand there\nalready in the province of the phenomenal; nay, knowledge in general is\nknown to us only as a phenomenon of brain, and we are not only unjustified\nin conceiving it otherwise, but also incapable of doing so. What the world\nis as world may be understood: it is phenomenal manifestation; and we can\nknow that which manifests itself in it, directly from ourselves, by means\nof a thorough analysis of self\u2010consciousness. Then, however, by means of\nthis key to the nature of the world, the whole phenomenal manifestation\ncan be deciphered, as I believe I have succeeded in doing. But if we leave\nthe world in order to answer the questions indicated above, we have also\nleft the whole sphere in which, not only connection according to reason\nand consequent, but even knowledge itself is possible; then all is\n_instabilis tellus, innabilis unda_. The nature of things before or beyond\nthe world, and consequently beyond the will, is open to no investigation;\nbecause knowledge in general is itself only a phenomenon, and therefore\nexists only in the world as the world exists only in it. The inner being\nin itself of things is nothing that knows, no intellect, but an\nunconscious; knowledge is only added as an accident, a means of assistance\nto the phenomenon of that inner being, and can therefore apprehend that\nbeing itself only in proportion to its own nature, which is designed with\nreference to quite different ends (those of the individual will),\nconsequently very imperfectly. Here lies the reason why a perfect\nunderstanding of the existence, nature, and origin of the world, extending\nto its ultimate ground and satisfying all demands, is impossible. So much\nas to the limits of my philosophy, and indeed of all philosophy.\n\nThe \u1f11\u03bd \u03ba\u03b1\u03b9 \u03c0\u03b1\u03bd, _i.e._, that the inner nature in all things is absolutely\none and the same, my age had already grasped and understood, after the\nEleatics, Scotus Erigena, Giordano Bruno, and Spinoza had thoroughly\ntaught, and Schelling had revived this doctrine. But _what_ this one is,\nand how it is able to exhibit itself as the many, is a problem the\nsolution of which is first found in my philosophy. Certainly from the most\nancient times man had been called the microcosm. I have reversed the\nproposition, and shown the world as the macranthropos: because will and\nidea exhaust its nature as they do that of man. But it is clearly more\ncorrect to learn to understand the world from man than man from the world;\nfor one has to explain what is indirectly given, thus external perception\nfrom what is directly given, thus self\u2010consciousness\u2014not conversely.\n\nWith the Pantheists, then, I have certainly that \u1f11\u03bd \u03ba\u03b1\u03b9 \u03c0\u03b1\u03bd in common, but\nnot the \u03c0\u03b1\u03bd \u03b8\u03b5\u03bf\u03c2; because I do not go beyond experience (taken in its\nwidest sense), and still less do I put myself in contradiction with the\ndata which lie before me. Scotus Erigena, quite consistently with the\nspirit of Pantheism, explains every phenomenon as a theophany; but then\nthis conception must also be applied to the most terrible and abominable\nphenomena. Fine theophanies! What further distinguishes me from Pantheism\nis principally the following. (1). That their \u03b8\u03b5\u03bf\u03c2 is an _x_, an unknown\nquantity; the will, on the other hand, is of all possible things the one\nthat is known to us most exactly, the only thing given immediately, and\ntherefore exclusively fitted for the explanation of the rest. For what is\nunknown must always be explained by what is better known; not conversely.\n(2). That their \u03b8\u03b5\u03bf\u03c2 manifests himself _animi causa_, to unfold his glory,\nor, indeed, to let himself be admired. Apart from the vanity here\nattributed to him, they are placed in the position of being obliged to\nsophisticate away the colossal evil of the world; but the world remains in\nglaring and terrible contradiction with that imagined excellence. With me,\non the contrary, the _will_ arrives through its objectification however\nthis may occur, at self\u2010knowledge, whereby its abolition, conversion,\nsalvation becomes possible. And accordingly, with me alone ethics has a\nsure foundation and is completely worked out in agreement with the sublime\nand profound religions, Brahmanism, Buddhism, and Christianity, not merely\nwith Judaism and Mohammedanism. The metaphysic of the beautiful also is\nfirst fully cleared up as a result of my fundamental truth, and no longer\nrequires to take refuge behind empty words. With me alone is the evil of\nthe world honestly confessed in its whole magnitude: this is rendered\npossible by the fact that the answer to the question as to its origin\ncoincides with the answer to the question as to the origin of the world.\nOn the other hand, in all other systems, since they are all optimistic,\nthe question as to the origin of evil is the incurable disease, ever\nbreaking out anew, with which they are affected, and in consequence of\nwhich they struggle along with palliatives and quack remedies. (3.) That I\nstart from experience and the natural self\u2010consciousness given to every\none, and lead to the will as that which alone is metaphysical; thus I\nadopt the ascending, analytical method. The Pantheists, again, adopt the\nopposite method, the descending or synthetical. They start from their\n\u03b8\u03b5\u03bf\u03c2, which they beg or take by force, although sometimes under the name\n_substantia_, or absolute, and this unknown is then supposed to explain\neverything that is better known. (4.) That with me the world does not fill\nthe whole possibility of all being, but in this there still remains much\nroom for that which we denote only negatively as the denial of the will to\nlive. Pantheism, on the other hand, is essentially optimism: but if the\nworld is what is best, then the matter may rest there. (5.) That to the\nPantheists the perceptible world, thus the world of idea, is just the\nintentional manifestation of the God indwelling in it, which contains no\nreal explanation of its appearance, but rather requires to be explained\nitself. With me, on the other hand, the world as idea appears merely _per\naccidens_, because the intellect, with its external perception, is\nprimarily only the medium of motives for the more perfect phenomena of\nwill, which gradually rises to that objectivity of perceptibility, in\nwhich the world exists. In this sense its origin, as an object of\nperception, is really accounted for, and not, as with the Pantheists, by\nmeans of untenable fictions.\n\nSince, in consequence of the Kantian criticism of all speculative\ntheology, the philosophisers of Germany almost all threw themselves back\nupon Spinoza, so that the whole series of futile attempts known by the\nname of the post\u2010Kantian philosophy are simply Spinozism tastelessly\ndressed up, veiled in all kinds of unintelligible language, and otherwise\ndistorted, I wish, now that I have explained the relation of my philosophy\nto Pantheism in general, to point out its relation to Spinozism in\nparticular. It stands, then, to Spinozism as the New Testament stands to\nthe Old. What the Old Testament has in common with the New is the same\nGod\u2010Creator. Analogous to this, the world exists, with me as with Spinoza,\nby its inner power and through itself. But with Spinoza his _substantia\n\u00e6terna_, the inner nature of the world, which he himself calls God, is\nalso, as regards its moral character and worth, Jehovah, the God\u2010Creator,\nwho applauds His own creation, and finds that all is very good, \u03c0\u03b1\u03bd\u03c4\u03b1 \u03ba\u03b1\u03bb\u03b1\n\u03bb\u03b9\u03b1\u03bd. Spinoza has deprived Him of nothing but personality. Thus, according\nto him also, the world and all in it is wholly excellent and as it ought\nto be: therefore man has nothing more to do than _vivere, agere, suum Esse\nconservare ex fundamento proprium utile qu\u00e6rendi_ (_Eth._, iv. pr. 67); he\nis even to rejoice in his life as long as it lasts; entirely in accordance\nwith Ecclesiastes ix. 7\u201010. In short, it is optimism: therefore its\nethical side is weak, as in the Old Testament; nay, it is even false, and\nin part revolting.(54) With me, on the other hand, the will, or the inner\nnature of the world, is by no means Jehovah, it is rather, as it were, the\ncrucified Saviour, or the crucified thief, according as it resolves.\nTherefore my ethical teaching agrees with that of Christianity, completely\nand in its highest tendencies, and not less with that of Brahmanism and\nBuddhism. Spinoza could not get rid of the Jews; _quo semel est imbuta\nrecens servabit odorem_. His contempt for the brutes, which, as mere\nthings for our use, he also declares to be without rights, is thoroughly\nJewish, and, in union with Pantheism, is at the same time absurd and\ndetestable (_Eth._, iv., appendix, c. 27). With all this Spinoza remains a\nvery great man. But in order to estimate his work correctly we must keep\nin view his relation to Descartes. The latter had sharply divided nature\ninto mind and matter, _i.e._, thinking and extended substance, and had\nalso placed God and the world in complete opposition to each other;\nSpinoza also, so long as he was a Cartesian, taught all that in his\n\u201c_Cogitatis Metaphysicis_,\u201d c. 12, i. I., 1665. Only in his later years\ndid he see the fundamental falseness of that double dualism; and\naccordingly his own philosophy principally consists of the indirect\nabolition of these two antitheses. Yet partly to avoid injuring his\nteacher, partly in order to be less offensive, he gave it a positive\nappearance by means of a strictly dogmatic form, although its content is\nchiefly negative. His identification of the world with God has also this\nnegative significance alone. For to call the world God is not to explain\nit: it remains a riddle under the one name as under the other. But these\ntwo negative truths had value for their age, as for every age in which\nthere still are conscious or unconscious Cartesians. He makes the mistake,\ncommon to all philosophers before Locke, of starting from conceptions,\nwithout having previously investigated their origin, such, for example, as\nsubstance, cause, &c., and in such a method of procedure these conceptions\nthen receive a much too extensive validity. Those who in the most recent\ntimes refused to acknowledge the Neo\u2010Spinozism which had appeared, for\nexample, Jacobi, were principally deterred from doing so by the bugbear of\nfatalism. By this is to be understood every doctrine which refers the\nexistence of the world, together with the critical position of mankind in\nit, to any absolute necessity, _i.e._, to a necessity that cannot be\nfurther explained. Those who feared fatalism, again, believed that all\nthat was of importance was to deduce the world from the free act of will\nof a being existing outside it; as if it were antecedently certain which\nof the two was more correct, or even better merely in relation to us. What\nis, however, especially assumed here is the _non datur tertium_, and\naccordingly hitherto every philosophy has represented one or the other. I\nam the first to depart from this; for I have actually established the\n_Tertium_: the act of will from which the world arises is our own. It is\nfree; for the principle of sufficient reason, from which alone all\nnecessity derives its significance, is merely the form of its phenomenon.\nJust on this account this phenomenon, if it once exists, is absolutely\nnecessary in its course; in consequence of this alone we can recognise in\nit the nature of the act of will, and accordingly _eventualiter_ will\notherwise.\n\n\n\n\n\nAPPENDIX.\n\n\n\n\nAbstract.\n\n\nSCHOPENHAUER\u2019S ESSAY ON THE FOURFOLD ROOT OF THE PRINCIPLE OF SUFFICIENT\nREASON (Fourth Edition, Edited by FRAUENST\u00c4DT. The First Edition appeared\nin 1813).\n\nThis essay is divided into eight chapters. The first is introductory. The\nsecond contains an historical review of previous philosophical doctrines\non the subject. The third deals with the insufficiency of the previous\ntreatment of the principle, and prescribes the lines of the new departure.\nThe fourth, fifth, sixth, and seventh treat of the four classes of objects\nfor the subject, and the forms of the principle of sufficient reason which\nrespectively characterise these classes. The eighth contains general\nremarks and results. It will be convenient to summarise these chapters\nseverally.\n\n\n\n\nChapter I.\n\n\nSchopenhauer points out that Plato and Kant agree in recommending, as the\nmethod of all knowledge, obedience to two laws:\u2014that of Homogeneity, and\nthat of Specification. The former bids us, by attention to the points of\nresemblance and agreement in things, get at their kinds, and combine them\ninto species, and these species again into genera, until we have arrived\nat the highest concept of all, that which embraces everything. This law\nbeing transcendental, or an essential in our faculty of reason, assumes\nthat nature is in harmony with it, an assumption which is expressed in the\nold rule: _Entia pr\u00e6ter necessitatem non esse multiplicanda._ The law of\nSpecification, on the other hand, is stated by Kant in these words:\n_Entium varietates non temere esse minuendas._ That is to say, we must\ncarefully distinguish the species which are united under a genus, and the\nlower kinds which in their turn are united under these species; taking\ncare not to make a leap, and subsume the lower kinds and individuals under\nthe concept of the genus, since this is always capable of division, but\nnever descends to the object of pure perception. Plato and Kant agree that\nthese laws are transcendental, and that they presuppose that things are in\nharmony with them.\n\nThe previous treatment of the principle of sufficient reason, even by\nKant, has been a failure, owing to the neglect of the second of these\nlaws. It may well be that we shall find that this principle is the common\nexpression of more than one fundamental principle of knowledge, and that\nthe necessity, to which it refers, is therefore of different kinds. It may\nbe stated in these words: _Nihil est sine ratione cur potius sit, quam non\nsit._ This is the general expression for the different forms of the\nassumption which everywhere justifies that question \u201cWhy?\u201d which is the\nmother of all science.\n\n\n\n\nChapter II.\n\n\nSchopenhauer in this chapter traces historically the forms in which the\nprinciple had been stated by his predecessors, and their influence. He\npoints out that in Greek philosophy it appeared in two aspects\u2014that of the\nnecessity of a ground for a logical judgment, and that of a cause for\nevery physical change\u2014and that these two aspects were systematically\nconfounded. The Aristotelian division, not of the forms of the principle\nitself, but of one of its aspects, the causal, exemplified a confusion\nwhich continued throughout the Scholastic period. Descartes succeeds no\nbetter. His proof of the existence of God that the immensity of His nature\nis a _cause or reason_ beyond which no cause is needed for His existence,\nsimply illustrates the gross confusion between cause and ground of\nknowledge which underlies every form of this ontological proof. \u201cThat a\nmiserable fellow like Hegel, whose entire philosophy is nothing but a\nmonstrous amplification of the ontological proof, should dare to defend\nthis proof against Kant\u2019s criticism of it is an alliance of which the\nontological proof itself, little as it knows of shame, might well feel\nashamed. It is not to be expected I should speak respectfully of people\nwho have brought philosophy into disrespect.\u201d Spinoza made the same\nconfusion when he laid it down that the cause of existence was either\ncontained in the nature and definition of the thing as it existed, or was\nto be found outside that thing. It was through this confusion of the\nground of knowledge with the efficient cause that he succeeded in\nidentifying God with the world. The true picture of Spinoza\u2019s \u201c_Causa\nsui_\u201d is Baron Munchhausen encircling his horse with his legs, and raising\nhimself and the horse upwards by means of his pigtail, with the\ninscription \u201c_Causa sui_\u201d written below. Leibnitz was the first to place\nthe principle of sufficient reason in the position of a first principle,\nand to indicate the difference between its two meanings. But it was Wolff\nwho first completely distinguished them, and divided the doctrine into\nthree kinds: _principium fiendi_ (cause), _principium essendi_\n(possibility), and _principium cognoscendi_. Baumgarten, Reimarus,\nLambert, and Platner added nothing to the work of Wolff, and the next\ngreat step was Hume\u2019s question as to the validity of the principle. Kant\u2019s\ndistinction of the logical or formal principle of knowledge\u2014Every\n_proposition_ must have its ground; from the transcendental or material\nprinciple, Every _thing_ must have its ground\u2014was followed out by his\nimmediate successors. But when we come to Schelling we find the\nproposition that gravitation is the _reason_ and light the _cause_ of\nthings, a proposition which is quoted simply as a curiosity, for such a\npiece of nonsense deserves no place among the opinions of earnest and\nhonest inquirers. The chapter concludes by pointing out the futility of\nthe attempts to prove the principle. Every proof is the exhibition of the\nground of a judgment which has been expressed, and of which, just because\nthat ground is exhibited, we predicate truth. The principle of sufficient\nreason is just this expression of the demand for such a ground, and he who\nseeks a proof, _i.e._, the exhibition of a ground for this principle\nitself, presupposes it as true, and so falls into the circle of seeking a\nproof of the justification of the demand for proof.\n\n\n\n\nChapter III.\n\n\nIn the third chapter Schopenhauer points out that the two applications of\nthe principle of sufficient reason distinguished by his predecessors, to\njudgments, which must have a ground, and to the changes of real objects,\nwhich must have a cause, are not exhaustive. The reason why the three\nsides of a certain triangle are equal is that the angles are equal, and\nthis is neither a logical deduction nor a case of causation. With a view\nto stating exhaustively the various kinds into which the application of\nthe principle falls it is necessary to determine the nature of the\nprinciple itself. All our ideas are objects of the subject, and all\nobjects of the subject are our ideas. But our ideas stand to one another\nas a matter of fact in an orderly connection, which is always determinable\n_a priori_ in point of form, and on account of which nothing that is in\nitself separate and wholly independent of other things can be the object\nof our consciousness. It is this connection which the principle of\nsufficient reason in its generality expresses. The relations which\nconstitute it are what Schopenhauer calls its root, and they fall into\nfour classes, which are discussed in the four following chapters.\n\n\n\n\nChapter IV.\n\n\nIn the fourth chapter Schopenhauer deals with the first class of objects\nfor the subject and the form of the principle of sufficient reason which\nobtains in it. This first class is that of those complete ideas of\nperception which form part of our experience, and which are referable to\nsome sensation of our bodies. These ideas are capable of being perceived\nonly under the forms of Space and Time. If time were the only form there\nwould be no coexistence, and therefore no persistence. If space were their\nonly form there would be no succession, and therefore no change. Time may\ntherefore be defined as the possibility of mutually exclusive conditions\nof the same thing. But the union of these two forms of existence is the\nessential condition of reality, and this union is the work of the\nunderstanding (see \u201cWorld as Will and Idea,\u201d vol. i. \u00a7 4, and the table of\npredicables annexed to vol. ii., chap. 4). In this class of objects for\nthe subject the principle of sufficient reason appears as the law of\ncausality or the principle of sufficient reason of becoming, and it is\nthrough it that all objects which present themselves in perception are\nbound together through the changes of their states. When a new state of\none or more objects makes its appearance it must have been preceded by\nanother on which it regularly follows. This is causal sequence, and the\nfirst state is the cause, the second the effect. The law has thus to do\nexclusively with the _changes_ of objects of external experience, and not\nwith things themselves, a circumstance which is fatal to the validity of\nthe cosmological proof of the existence of God. It follows also from the\nessential connection of causality with succession that the notion of\nreciprocity, with its contemporaneous existence of cause and effect, is a\ndelusion. The chain of causes and effects does not affect either matter,\nwhich is that in which all changes take place, or the original forces of\nnature, through which causation becomes possible, and which exist apart\nfrom all change, and in this sense out of time, but which yet are\neverywhere present (_e.g._, chemical forces, see _supra_, vol. i., \u00a7 26).\nIn nature causation assumes three different forms; that of cause in the\nnarrow sense, of stimulus, and of motive, on which differences depend the\ntrue distinctions between inorganic bodies, plants, and animals. It is\nonly of cause properly so called that Newton\u2019s third law of the equality\nof action and reaction is true, and only here do we find the degree of the\neffect proportionate to that of the cause. The absence of this feature\ncharacterises stimulation. Motive demands knowledge as its condition, and\nintelligence is therefore the true characteristic of the animal. The three\nforms are in principle identical, the difference being due to the degrees\nof receptivity in existence. What is called freedom of the will is\ntherefore an absurdity, as is also Kant\u2019s \u201cPractical Reason.\u201d These\nresults are followed by an examination of the nature of vision, which\nSchopenhauer sums up in these words: \u201cI have examined all these visual\nprocesses in detail in order to show that the understanding is active in\nall of them, the understanding which, by apprehending every change as an\neffect and referring it to its cause, creates on the basis of the _a\npriori_ and fundamental intuitions or perceptions of space and time, the\nobjective world, that phenomenon of the brain, for which the sensations of\nthe senses afford only certain data. And this task the understanding\naccomplishes only through its proper form, the law of causality, and\naccomplishes it directly without the aid of reflection, that is, of\nabstract knowledge through concepts and words, which are the material of\nsecondary knowledge, of thought, thus of the Reason.\u201d \u201cWhat understanding\nknows aright is reality; what reason knows aright is truth, _i.e._, a\njudgment which has a ground; the opposite of the former being illusion\n(what is falsely perceived), of the latter error (what is falsely\nthought).\u201d All understanding is an immediate apprehension of the causal\nrelation, and this is the sole function of understanding, and not the\ncomplicated working of the twelve Kantian Categories, the theory of which\nis a mistaken one. A consequence of this conclusion is, that arithmetical\nprocesses do not belong to the understanding, concerned as they are with\nabstract conceptions. But it must not be forgotten that between volition\nand the apparently consequential action of the body there is no causal\nrelation, for they are the same thing perceived in two different ways.\nSection 23 contains a detailed refutation of Kant\u2019s proof of the _a\npriori_ nature of the causal relation in the \u201cSecond Analogy of\nExperience\u201d of the Critique of Pure Reason, the gist of the objection\nbeing that the so\u2010called subjective succession is as much objective in\nreality as what is called objective by Kant: \u201cPhenomena may well follow\none another, without following _from_ one another.\u201d\n\n\n\n\nChapter V.\n\n\nThe fifth chapter commences with an examination of the distinction between\nman and the brutes. Man possesses _reason_, that is to say, he has a class\nof ideas of which the brutes are not capable, _abstract_ ideas as\ndistinguished from those ideas of perception from which the former kind\nare yet derived. The consequence is, that the brute neither speaks nor\nlaughs, and lacks all those qualities which make human life great. The\nnature of _motives_, too, is different where abstract ideas are possible.\nNo doubt the actions of men follow of necessity from their causes, not\nless than is the case with the brutes, but the kind of sequence through\nthought which renders choice, _i.e._, the conscious conflict of motives,\npossible is different. Our abstract ideas, being incapable of being\nobjects of perception, would be outside consciousness, and the operations\nof thought would be impossible, were it not that they are fixed for sense\nby arbitrary signs called words, which therefore always indicate _general_\nconceptions. It is just because the brutes are incapable of general\nconceptions that they have no faculty of speech. But thought does not\nconsist in the mere presence of abstract ideas in consciousness, but in\nthe union and separation of two or more of them, subject to the manifold\nrestrictions and modifications which logic deals with. Such a clearly\nexpressed conceptual relation is a judgment. In relation to judgments the\nprinciple of sufficient reason is valid in a new form: that of the ground\nof knowing. In this form it asserts that if a judgment is to express\nknowledge it must have a ground; and it is just because it has a ground\nthat it has ascribed to it the predicate true. The grounds on which a\njudgment may depend are divisible into four kinds. A judgment may have\nanother judgment as its ground, in which case its truth is formal or\n_logical_. There is no truth except in the relation of a judgment to\nsomething outside it, and intrinsic truth, which is sometimes\ndistinguished from extrinsic logical truth, is therefore an absurdity. A\njudgment may also have its ground in sense\u2010perception, and its truth is\nthen material truth. Again, those forms of knowledge which lie in the\nunderstanding and in pure sensibility, as the conditions of the\npossibility of experience, may be the ground of a judgment which is then\nsynthetical _a priori_. Finally, those formal conditions of all thinking\nwhich lie in the reason may be the ground of a judgment, which may in that\ncase be called metalogically true. Of these metalogical judgments there\nare four, and they were long ago discovered and called laws of thought.\n(1.) A subject is equal to the sum of its predicates. (2.) A subject\ncannot at once have a given predicate affirmed and denied of it. (3.) Of\ntwo contradictorily opposed predicates one must belong to every subject.\n(4.) Truth is the relation of a judgment to something outside it as its\nsufficient reason. Reason, it may be remarked, has no material but only\nformal truth.\n\n\n\n\nChapter VI.\n\n\nThe third class of objects for the subject is constituted by the formal\nelement in perception, the forms of outer and inner sense, space and time.\nThis class of ideas, in which time and space appear as pure intuitions, is\ndistinguished from that other class in which they are objects of\nperception by the presence of matter which has been shown to be the\nperceptibility of time and space in one aspect, and causality which has\nbecome objective, in another. Space and time have this property, that all\ntheir parts stand to one another in a relation in which each is determined\nand conditioned by another. This relation is peculiar, and is intelligible\nto us neither through understanding nor through reason, but solely through\npure intuition or perception _a priori_. And the law according to which\nthe parts of space and time thus determine one another is called the law\nof sufficient reason of _being_. In space every position is determined\nwith reference to every other position, so that the first stands to the\nsecond in the relation of a consequence to its ground. In time every\nmoment is conditioned by that which precedes it. The ground of being, in\nthe form of the law of sequence, is here very simple owing to the\ncircumstance that time has only one dimension. On the nexus of the\nposition of the parts of space depends the entire science of geometry.\nGround of _knowledge_ produces _conviction_ only, as distinguished from\n_insight_ into the ground of being. Thus it is that the attempt, which\neven Euclid at times makes, to produce _conviction_, as distinguished from\ninsight into the ground of being, in geometry, is a mistake, and induces\naversions to mathematics in many an admirable mind.\n\n\n\n\nChapter VII.\n\n\nThe remaining class of objects for the subject is a very peculiar and\nimportant one. It comprehends only one object, the immediate object of\ninner sense, the subject in volition which becomes an object of knowledge,\nbut only in inner sense, and therefore always in time and never in space;\nand in time only under limitations. There can be no knowledge of\nknowledge, for that would imply that the subject had separated itself from\nknowledge, and yet knew knowledge, which is impossible. The subject is the\ncondition of the existence of ideas, and can never itself become idea or\nobject. It knows itself therefore never as _knowing_, but only as\n_willing_. Thus what we know in ourselves is never what knows, but what\nwills, the will. The identity of the subject of volition with the subject\nof knowledge, through which the word \u201cI\u201d includes both, is the insoluble\nproblem. The identity of the knowing with the known is inexplicable, and\nyet is immediately present. The operation of a motive is not, like that of\nall other causes, known only from without, and therefore indirectly, but\nalso from within. Motivation is, in fact, causality viewed from within.\n\n\n\n\nChapter VIII.\n\n\nIn this, the concluding chapter, Schopenhauer sums up his results.\nNecessity has no meaning other than that of the irresistible sequence of\nthe effect where the cause is given. All necessity is thus conditioned,\nand absolute or unconditioned necessity is a contradiction in terms. And\nthere is a fourfold necessity corresponding to the four forms of the\nprinciple of sufficient reason:\u2014(1.) The logical form, according to the\nprinciple of the ground of knowledge; on account of which, if the\npremisses are given, the conclusion follows. (2.) The physical form,\naccording to the law of causality; on account of which, if the cause is\ngiven, the effect must follow. (3.) The mathematical form, according to\nthe law of being; on account of which every relation expressed by a true\ngeometrical proposition is what it is affirmed to be, and every correct\ncalculation is irrefutable. (4.) The moral form, on account of which every\nhuman being and every brute must, when the motive appears, perform the\nonly act which accords with the inborn and unalterable character. A\nconsequence of this is, that every department of science has one or other\nof the forms of the principle of sufficient reason as its basis. In\nconclusion, Schopenhauer points out that just because the principle of\nsufficient reason belongs to the _a priori_ element in intelligence, it\ncannot be applied to the entirety of things, to the universe as inclusive\nof intelligence. Such a universe is mere phenomenon, and what is only true\nbecause it belongs to the form of intelligence can have no application to\nintelligence itself. Thus it is that it cannot be said that the universe\nand all things in it exist because of something else. In other words, the\ncosmological proof of the existence of God is inadmissible.\n\n\n\n\n\nINDEX.(55)\n\n\nAboriginals, interference with, iii. 411.\n\nAbsolute, conception of, has reality only in matter, ii. 94;\n  how not to be conceived, ii. 94;\n  misuse of, ii. 94, 215, 216, 393.\n\nAbstract, idea, knowledge, dependent on idea of perception, i. 45, 52, 53,\n            ii. 258;\n  insufficiency of, i. 72, ii. 248\u2010251;\n  opposite of idea of perception, i. 7;\n  philosophy must not start from, ii. 261 _seq._;\n  relation to intuitive knowledge, ii. 54, 55, 91;\n  use of, ii. 235, 238.\n\nAbsurd, sphere of, ii. 242;\n  supremacy of, i. 418.\n\nAcademies, relation of, to great men, ii. 496.\n\nAccident. See _Substance_.\n\nActors, why madness common among, iii. 168.\n\nAdultery, iii. 351, 364, 365.\n\n\u00c6schylus, iii. 213, 378.\n\n\u00c6sthetic mode of contemplation, i. 253 _seq._, iii. 127 _seq._\n\nAgamemnon, i. 199, iii. 213.\n\nAlemann, Matteo, iii. 363.\n\nAlfieri, i. 247.\n\nAllegory, nature of, use and abuse in art, i. 305\u2010313.\n\nAmerica, compared with Old World in physical regard, iii. 57, 58.\n\nAmpere, iii. 44.\n\nAnacreon, iii. 377.\n\nAnalytical method, ii. 309.\n\nAnatomy, what it teaches, iii. 38;\n  value of comparative anatomy, i. 187, iii. 84.\n\nAnaxagoras, iii. 2, 34, 73, 390.\n\nAncients, the, their architecture, iii. 185, 188, 190;\n  defects in religion, iii. 452;\n  freedom of thought, ii. 394;\n  inferiority of tragedy, iii. 213, 214;\n  historians, i. 317, 318;\n  philosophy, ii. 400;\n  sculpture, i. 269, 291.\n\nAngelus Silesius, i. 167, 492, iii. 432.\n\nAnger, evidence of primacy of will, ii. 442;\n  psychological effect of, ii. 429.\n\nAnimals, lower, distinctive characteristics of animal life, i. 25, ii.\n            228, 232;\n  essential identity with man, i. 192;\n  difference from man, i. 45, 47, 112, see _Man_;\n  do not laugh, ii. 280;\n  nor weep, i. 486;\n  na\u00efvet\u00e9 of, i. 204;\n  no passions proper, iii. 16;\n  no knowledge of death, iii. 249;\n  yet fear death, iii. 251;\n  right of man over, i. 481 n.\n\nAnimal magnetism, iii. 76, 418, 419.\n\nAnselm of Canterbury, ii. 125, 126.\n\nAnticipation in art, i. 287, 288;\n  in nature, iii. 103, 104.\n\nAntinomies, criticism of Kantian, i, 39, ii. 107 _seq._;\n  the two of natural science, i. 37 _seq._\n\nAntisthenes, i. 115, ii. 357.\n\nAnwari Soheili, ii. 283.\n\n\u0391\u03c0\u03b1\u03b3\u03c9\u03b3\u03b7 and \u03b5\u03c0\u03b1\u03b3\u03c9\u03b3\u03b7, ii. 290.\n\nApollo Belvedere, i. 230.\n\nApperception, transcendental unity of, ii. 333.\n\n_A priori_ knowledge, meaning and explanation of, ii. 33;\n  directness, necessity, and universality of, i. 88;\n  table of _pr\u00e6dicabilia a priori_, ii. 221;\n  the basis of ontology, ii. 220.\n\nApuleius, ii. 352.\n\nArchitecture, its problem as a fine art, i. 276;\n  solution of problem, i. 277 _seq._, iii. 182 _seq._;\n  beauty and grace in, i. 277, iii. 188, 189;\n  combines beauty with usefulness, i. 280;\n  its relation to light, i. 279, 280;\n  to music, iii. 239 _seq._;\n  to plastic arts and poetry, i. 280;\n  its effects dynamical as well as mathematical, i. 279;\n  comparison of antique and Gothic, iii. 189\u2010192.\n\nAristippus, ii. 319, 363.\n\nAristo of Chios, ii. 319.\n\nAristocracy of intellect, ii. 342.\n\nAristotle, his logic, i. 62;\n  on scientific knowledge, i. 95;\n  his _forma substantialis_, i. 186;\n  on essential conflict in nature, i. 192;\n  his method, i. 239;\n  on Platonic Ideas, i. 273, iii. 124;\n  on derivation of \u03b7\u03b8\u03b7, i. 378;\n  his style, ii. 21;\n  denies reciprocity, ii. 66;\n  on the necessary and contingent, ii. 70;\n  contented with abstract conceptions, ii. 71;\n  on quality and quantity, ii. 76;\n  his categories, ii. 85;\n  on existence as subject, ii. 101;\n  on infinity of world in space, ii. 110;\n  atomism not necessary, ii. 111;\n  infinity _potentia_ not _actu_, ii. 115;\n  refutation of ontological proof, ii. 129;\n  \u03bd\u03bf\u03c5\u03c2 \u03c0\u03c1\u03b1\u03ba\u03c4\u03b9\u03ba\u03bf\u03c2 of, ii. 133;\n  the seat of the virtues, ii. 137;\n  treatment of art, ii. 153;\n  an infinitely large body immovable, ii. 203;\n  relation of number and time, ii. 205;\n  Topi of, ii. 212;\n  division of causes, ii. 217;\n  on pure matter, ii. 219;\n  on origin of things, ii. 220;\n  real things and conceptions, ii. 244;\n  meaning of his _nihil est in intellectu nisi quod ante fuerit in sensu_,\n              ii. 258;\n  eight spheres of, ii. 265;\n  rhetorics of, ii. 285;\n  his \u03b5\u03c0\u03b1\u03b3\u03c9\u03b3\u03b7 and \u03b1\u03c0\u03b1\u03b3\u03c9\u03b3\u03b7, ii. 290;\n  his syllogistic figures, ii. 297;\n  analysis of syllogisms, ii. 303;\n  on the prudent man, ii. 347;\n  his ethics eud\u00e6monistic, ii. 349;\n  wonder the origin of philosophy, ii. 360;\n  view of the Sophists, ii. 362;\n  necessity of metaphysics, ii. 379;\n  on invertebrate animals, ii. 481;\n  on plants, iii. 34;\n  difference between efficient and final cause, iii. 82;\n  his freedom from physico\u2010theology, iii. 94;\n  merits of his teaching as to organised and unorganised nature, iii. 95;\n  nature a demon, iii. 106;\n  music a cathartic of the feelings, iii. 174;\n  poetry better than history, iii. 220.\n\nArithmetic, depends on _a priori_ intuition of time, i. 99, ii. 204.\n\nArrian, ii. 355 _seq._\n\nArt, source and aim of, i. 238, 239, 286 _seq._, iii. 126, 179;\n  object of, see _Idea_;\n  subject of, see _Genius_;\n  relation to and difference from philosophy, iii. 176, 177, 178;\n  contrasted with history, i. 298, 315, iii. 224;\n  inborn and acquired, i. 252;\n  the two extremes in series of, i. 274 _seq._, 280;\n  value and importance of, i. 345, 346, iii. 132;\n  opposition between useful and fine, iii. 181.\n\nArt, works of, tendency of, iii. 177;\n  relation of conception to execution of, iii. 180;\n  the abstract concept barren in, i. 303, 304, iii. 179, 180;\n  why Idea more easily comprehended in than in nature, i. 252, iii. 132;\n  co\u2010operation of the beholder required for enjoyment of, iii. 177;\n  why they do not give all to the senses, iii. 178 _seq._;\n  superiority of those dashed off in moment of conception, iii. 178, 180.\n\nAsceticism, its source, i, 490 _seq._;\n  its way of manifesting itself, i. 492, 493, 506, iii. 425;\n  identity of its spirit in different countries and religions, i. 502,\n              503, iii. 433;\n  difference of spirit of cynicism, ii. 352, 353.\n\nAssertion, definition of, ii. 308.\n\nAssociation of ideas, its root, ii. 324;\n  kinds of, ii. 324;\n  apparent exceptions to law of, ii. 327;\n  the will secretly controls the law of, ii. 328.\n\nAstronomy, what it teaches, iii. 37;\n  source of its certainty and comprehensibility, i. 86;\n  its method, i. 87;\n  Ptolemaic, i. 64.\n\nAthanasius, iii. 439.\n\nAtheism, what strengthens the reproach of, ii. 379;\n  not necessarily materialism, ii. 131, 132.\n\nAtom, assumption of, not necessary, iii. 44 _seq._;\n  has no reality, ii. 223;\n  defence of, from porosity refuted, iii. 47.\n\nAttraction and repulsion, forces of, constitute space\u2010occupation, ii. 224.\n\nAugustine, recognises identity of all things with will, i. 165;\n  cause of beauty of vegetable world, i. 260 n.;\n  on original sin, i. 524;\n  the will not free, i. 525;\n  dogmatics of, i. 525 n.;\n  beginner of Scholasticism, ii. 12;\n  on moral systems of ancients, ii. 349;\n  spirit of his anti\u2010Pelagianism, ii. 368, iii. 421;\n  on affections of will, ii. 412 n.;\n  his _de civit. Dei_, iii. 117 n.\n\nAutobiography. See _Biography_.\n\nAvarice, the vice of old age, iii. 465\n\nAvatar, iii. 426.\n\nAxiom, definition, ii. 308.\n\nBacon, his conception of philosophy, i. 109;\n  all movement preceded by perception, i. 137 n.;\n  on atheism, ii. 131;\n  his philosophical method, ii. 212;\n  on the intellect, ii. 433;\n  his moral character, ii. 447;\n  influence of climate upon intellect, iii. 18;\n  rejected teleology, iii. 91;\n  on final causes, iii. 93;\n  on Democritus, iii. 95;\n  on rarity of genius, iii. 158.\n\nBasilidians, iii. 305.\n\nBass. See _Music_.\n\nBaumgarten, his \u00e6sthetics, ii. 153.\n\nBeard, its efficient and final cause in man, iii. 88.\n\nBeauty, the beautiful, two elements of, i. 270;\n  source of pleasure in, i. 253 _seq._;\n  everything beautiful, i. 271;\n  why one thing more beautiful than another, i. 272;\n  distinguished from grace, i. 289;\n  distinguished from the sublime, i. 270;\n  effect of natural beauty, i. 255, iii. 173, 174;\n  beauty in art. See _Painting_, _Sculpture_, &c.\n\nBeccaria, iii. 413.\n\nBeing, as the most general conception, ii. 236;\n  in the professorial philosophy, ii. 288;\n  relation of thought to. See _Thing in itself_;\n  limitation of individual being the cause of philosophy, i. 135;\n  contrast of seeing and being, iii. 392.\n\nBell, Sir Ch., i. 133, iii. 6.\n\nBenedict, iii. 450.\n\nBerkeley, on rareness of thought, i. 50;\n  his idealism, ii. 15, 29, 41, 163, 165, 175, iii. 59, 261.\n\nBhagavad\u2010gita, i. 366, iii. 75, 262.\n\nBible, one metaphysical truth in Old Testament, iii. 423;\n  ascetic spirit of New Testament, iii. 437, 458 _seq._;\n  opposition of Old and New Testaments, i. 420, iii. 281, 441, 445;\n  its historical material unsuited for paintings, i. 300.\n\nBichat, \u201c_Sur la vie et la mort_,\u201d ii. 470, 488;\n  on circulation of blood, ii. 478;\n  on organic and animal life, ii. 489;\n  only animal life can be educated, ii. 491;\n  Flourens\u2019 attack on, ii. 494 _seq._;\n  nervous and muscular systems in children, iii. 161;\n  effect of emotions on organism, iii. 296.\n\nBio, on relation of science and philosophy, ii. 319.\n\nBiography, superiority to history, i. 319 _seq._;\n  difficulty of dissimulating in autobiographies, i. 320.\n\nBiot, on colour rings, ii. 338.\n\nBlood, the primitive fluid of organism, ii. 478\u2010481.\n\nBody, the, an object among objects, i. 5, 14, 23, 25, 129, ii. 167;\n  its identity with will, i. 129 _seq._; 137\u2010142, ii. 428, 468, 471\u2010493;\n  relation of physiological and metaphysical explanations of, i. 139\n              _seq._, ii. 492, 493;\n  its design, i. 140 _seq._;\n  knowledge of, key to nature of things, i. 136, 141 _seq._;\n  criticism of antithesis of body and soul as two substances, ii. 101\u2010104,\n              378, iii. 11.\n\nB\u00f6hm, Jakob, everything half dead, i. 191;\n  \u201c_De signatura rerum_,\u201d i. 284 n., iii. 432.\n\nBolingbroke, iii. 397.\n\nBooks, not so instructive as reality, ii. 244, 245;\n  why they cannot take the place of experience, ii. 248, 249.\n\nBoswell, his Life of Johnson, ii. 446.\n\nBoureguon, Antoinette, iii. 435.\n\nBrahmanism, recognises no beginning of world, ii. 94, 95, 108, 109;\n  teaches metempsychosis, iii. 303.\n\nBrain, metaphysically considered, ii. 468, 485, 486;\n  physiologically considered, its origin and function, ii. 411, 462, 463,\n              470, iii. 9;\n  its share in perception, ii. 185;\n  its relation to the ganglia, ii. 483;\n  the seat of motives, ii. 473;\n  develops with organism, ii. 416, iii. 13, 14;\n  as necessary for thought as stomach for digestion, ii. 237;\n  the regulator of the will, ii. 470;\n  the condition of self\u2010consciousness, iii. 12 _seq._;\n  influence of its development upon intellect at different periods of\n              life, ii. 425, 454 _seq._;\n  necessity of sleep for, ii. 464;\n  effect of over\u2010work on, ii. 255, 256;\n  its variation in man the cause of individual character, i. 171;\n  its activity in dreams, ii. 464;\n  the brain of genius, iii. 159, 160;\n  influence on agility of limbs, iii. 21;\n  influence of noise on, ii. 196, 197.\n\nBrandis, Ch. A., ii. 264.\n\nBrandis, J. D., ii. 488.\n\nBridgewater Treatise Men, iii. 91.\n\nBrougham, Lord, iii. 91.\n\nBrown, Thomas, \u201cOn Cause and Effect,\u201d ii. 207, iii. 92.\n\nBruno, Giordano, started from real in his philosophy, i. 33;\n  his view of life, i. 366;\n  lonely position in his age, ii. 13 n.;\n  on finiteness of world, ii. 110;\n  infinitely large body immovable, ii. 203;\n  matter incorporeal, ii. 208, iii. 51, 54;\n  no space beyond the world, ii. 265;\n  his death, iii. 106;\n  his motto, iii. 144.\n\nBuddhism, its pre\u2010eminence over all religions, ii. 371;\n  superiority to Brahmanism, i. 460, iii. 430;\n  compared with Christianity, iii. 445 _seq._;\n  its pessimism, i. 372, iii. 397;\n  its mysticism, iii. 435;\n  teaches that nature expects salvation from man, i. 492;\n  its doctrine of metempsychosis, iii. 302;\n  doctrine of Nirvana, iii. 308, 427.\n\nBuffon, on intelligence of animals, i. 29;\n  on style, ii. 247.\n\nBunyan, John, iii. 435.\n\nBundahish, iii. 391.\n\nBurdach, sleep the original state, ii. 463;\n  formation of muscles from blood, ii. 478;\n  heart independent of nervous system and sensibility, ii. 479;\n  reciprocal support of vegetable and insect world, iii. 90;\n  on bees, iii. 100;\n  on the burrying beetle, iii. 102;\n  on _cercaria ephemera_, iii. 269;\n  on maternal affection of animals, iii. 317.\n\nB\u00fcrger, his place in German poetry, iii. 327;\n  his parents, iii. 327;\n  on love, iii. 336.\n\nBurke, on the beautiful, ii. 153;\n  on the apprehension of words, ii. 239.\n\nByron, an instance of connection of genius and madness, i. 247;\n  brain weighed 6 lbs., iii. 160;\n  quoted, i. 234, 324, 258, 342, 432, 458, iii. 379, 398, 400.\n\nCabanis, on arterial and venous systems, ii. 257;\n  his materialism, ii. 378;\n  on passions of children, ii. 424;\n  \u201c_Des rapports du physique au moral_,\u201d iii. 6.\n\nC\u00e6sar, Jul., on Druids, iii. 304.\n\nCalderon, life a dream, i. 22;\n  steadfast prince, i. 327;\n  a crime to be born, i. 328, 458, iii. 420;\n  his Semiramis, iii. 343;\n  \u201cZenobia the Great,\u201d iii. 364.\n\nCamerarius, J., collection of emblems, i. 309.\n\nCannibalism, most palpable example of wrong, i. 431;\n  hereditary, iii. 322.\n\nCanisius, iii. 440.\n\nCanova, iii. 195.\n\nCaravaggio, iii. 197.\n\nCaricature, character of species annulled by that of individual, i. 291.\n\nCarov\u00e9, iii. 440.\n\nCarracci, Hannibal, his allegorical paintings, i. 306, 308.\n\nCasper, on length of human life, iii. 301.\n\nCastration, its significance, iii. 310;\n  its use as a punishment, iii. 331.\n\nCategories, criticism of the Kantian, ii. 48\u201051.\n\nCatholicism, compared with Protestantism in an ethical regard, iii. 448,\n            449.\n\nCatullus, iii. 318.\n\nCaucasian, an original race, iii. 58.\n\nCause, Causality, law of, ii. 214;\n  _a priori_ nature of law of, i. 154 _seq._, ii. 206 _seq._;\n  corollary from it the permanence of substance, ii. 79;\n  difference of cause and force, i. 144, 145;\n  mysteriousness of connection between cause and effect, i. 174;\n  temporal relation between cause and effect, ii. 209, 210;\n  three kinds of causes, i. 149, 150;\n  truth of doctrine of occasional causes, i. 178 _seq._;\n  falseness of proposition \u201cthe effect cannot contain more than the\n              cause,\u201d ii. 213;\n  a \u201cfirst cause\u201d inconceivable, ii. 214;\n  to determine the cause of an effect, ii. 154.\n\nCelibacy, from Christian and ethical point of view, iii. 425, 437, 438,\n            449, 450, 451.\n\nCellini, Benvenuto, his conversion, i. 510.\n\nCelsus, on generation, iii. 310.\n\nCertainty, distinguished from scientific completeness of knowledge, i. 83;\n  superiority of immediate to indirect, i. 89, 90.\n\nCervantes, i. 311; ii. 246.\n\nChamfort, iii., 157, 158, 365.\n\nChampollion, i. 313.\n\nChange, nature of, i. 11;\n  always conditioned by a cause, i. 170, ii. 211 _seq._\n\nCharacter, as a force of nature, i. 370;\n  difference between that of man and brutes, i. 170, 386, 387;\n  that of man individual, i. 290;\n  empirical, ii. 407;\n  constant, i. 378, ii. 441, 491;\n  inherited from father, iii. 320 _seq._;\n  relation of intelligible to empirical, i. 203, 207, 373 _seq._;\n  a false inference from unalterableness of, i. 389;\n  the acquired, i. 391\u2010397;\n  explanation of inharmonious nature of, iii. 330;\n  abolition of, i. 520 _seq._\n\nChatham, Lord, iii. 324.\n\nChateaubriand, iii. 435.\n\nChemistry, what it teaches, iii. 38;\n  antinomy of, i. 37 _seq._\n\nChevreul, experiments on light, iii. 62.\n\nChildhood, character of, iii. 161 _seq._\n\nChiliasts, ii. 243.\n\nChinese, philosophy, i. 187, 188, 343;\n  garden, iii. 157.\n\nChladni, i. 344.\n\nChoice, man larger sphere of, than brutes, i. 388;\n  not freedom of individual volition, _loc. cit._\n\nChristianity, different constituent parts of, i. 500, 501, iii. 422;\n  its connection with Brahmanism and Buddhism, iii. 391, 421, 459;\n  pessimistic spirit of, ii. 372, iii. 397, 436;\n  kernel of, i. 424, 523\u2010524, ii. 149, iii. 421, 452;\n  symbol of, iii. 462.\n\nChrysippus, i. 116, 118, 389, ii. 72, 349.\n\nCicero, i. 116 n., 117, 247, 389, ii. 72, 137, 138, 140, 141, 270, 272,\n            348, 356, 358, 444, iii. 147, 253 n., 452.\n\nCircle, the symbol of nature, iii. 267.\n\nClassics, advantage of studying, ii. 239.\n\nClassical poetry, distinguished from romantic, iii. 209.\n\nCleanthes, i. 118, ii. 128.\n\nClemens Alexandrinus, \u201cStromata\u201d referred to, i. 425, ii. 98, iii. 427,\n            438, 442, 443.\n\nClouds, illustration of opposition between Idea and phenomenon, i. 235.\n\nColebrooke, i. 491, 494 n., 281, 304, 307, 308 n.\n\nComedy, distinguished from tragedy, iii. 218.\n\nComposer, musical, i. 336.\n\nConcept, conception, see _Abstract_;\n  their construction the function of reason, i. 7, 50, ii. 235 _seq._;\n  content and extent of, ii. 236;\n  spheres, i. 55, 64;\n  representatives of, i. 51;\n  relation to word, i. 51; ii. 234, 238;\n  relation to Idea, i. 301, 302;\n  simple, ii. 236;\n  distinct, ii. 237;\n  abstract and concrete, i. 53;\n  pure, ii. 385;\n  advantages and disadvantages of, i. 45, 47 _seq._, 68\u201075, ii. 234\u2010243,\n              345 _seq._\n\nConcrete, union of form and matter, ii. 215.\n\nCondillac, his materialism, ii. 175, 187. iii. 45.\n\nCondorcet, ii. 187.\n\nConnections among men, foundation of, ii. 450.\n\nConscience, presupposes intelligible character, i. 474;\n  is only affected by deeds, i. 387;\n  anguish of, i. 471 _seq._;\n  the good, i. 482.\n\nConsciousness, only a property of animal beings, ii. 336, 337, 414;\n  origin, aim, and seat of, ii. 475;\n  what common to all, and what distinguishes one from another, ii. 414,\n              iii. 17 _seq._;\n  self\u2010consciousness and that of other things, ii. 259, 412, 468, iii.\n              126;\n  limited to phenomena, i. 358 n., iii. 74, 285 _seq._;\n  as opposed to unconsciousness, ii. 328;\n  fragmentary nature of, ii. 330 _seq._;\n  what gives it unity and connection, iii. 333;\n  extinguished in death, iii. 255 _seq._\n\nConsidering things, ways of, i. 239; 121 _seq._\n\nContingent, contingency, conception of, ii. 67;\n  misuse of word by pre\u2010Kantian dogmatists, ii. 70.\n\nConversation, ii. 343.\n\nCopula, ii. 287, 288.\n\nCoriolanus, ii. 136.\n\nCorneille, iii. 203.\n\nCorrect, distinguished from true, real, &c., ii. 208.\n\nCorreggio, i. 300, 306, 307, 531.\n\nCosmogony, of Laplace, iii. 71, 72.\n\nCosmological proof, Kant\u2019s refutation of, ii. 130.\n\nCousin, M., iii. 45.\n\nCramp, ii. 484.\n\nCrime, chief cause of, iii. 412.\n  See _Punishment_.\n\nCriticism, the Kantian, ii. 6\u201011.\n\nCrystal, its one manifestation of life, i. 202;\n  its individuality, i. 171;\n  becomes rigid in the moment of movement, iii. 37.\n\nCulture, cannot make up for want of understanding, ii. 253 _seq._, 343\n\nCuvier, ii. 204, 318, 479, iii. 98, 160, 165.\n\nCynicism, spirit and fundamental thought of, ii. 350 _seq._, iii. 388.\n\n_Da Capo_, i. 342.\n\nDaemon, i. 349, iii. 99.\n\nDante, i. 258, 419, ii. 315.\n\nDavis, iii. 207.\n\nDeath, i. 356 _seq._, 506\u2010509, iii. 249\u2010308, 312, 389, 463;\n  sudden death, why prayed against, iii, 428.\n\nDecameron, iii. 365.\n\nDeductive method, ii. 310.\n\nDelamark, ii. 318, 378.\n\nDelirium, distinguished from madness, i. 248.\n\nDemocritus, i. 33, 159, 160, ii. 131 140, 177, 378, iii. 61, 62, 64, 95.\n\nDenial. See _Will_.\n\nDescartes, vortex of, i. 159;\n  identifies will with judgment, 377, 385;\n  his thought not free, ii. 13;\n  on repetition, ii. 21, 25;\n  ontological proof, ii. 126;\n  made philosophy start from self\u2010consciousness, ii. 164, 165, 201, 400,\n              iii. 59;\n  the quantity of a motion, ii. 226;\n  opinion of mathematics, ii. 323;\n  slept a great deal, ii. 465;\n  criticism of his doctrines, ii. 494\u2010496;\n  relation to Spinoza, iii. 475.\n\nDesire, the universal nature of things, i. 165, iii. 34;\n  in a psychological regard, ii. 429.\n\nDeterminism, iii. 67\u201069.\n\n\u0394\u03b5\u03c5\u03c4\u03b5\u03c1\u03bf\u03c2 \u03c0\u03bb\u03bf\u03c5\u03c2, the second way of the denial of the will, i. 506, iii.\n            454, 465.\n\nDialectic, definition of, ii. 285.\n\nDiderot, ii. 341, iii. 233, 272.\n\nDiodorus the Megaric, ii. 72.\n\nDiogenes the Cynic, i. 151, ii. 351, 352, iii. 388.\n\nDiogenes, Laertius, i. 118, 151, 169, ii. 319, 351, 355, 363, iii. 255.\n\nDionysius the Areopagite, ii. 264.\n\nDiscovery, the work of understanding, i. 26, 27.\n\nDisease, its nature, ii. 487.\n\nDisgusting, the, i. 269.\n\nDissimulation, i. 47, iii. 231.\n\nDivisibility, infinite, of time, i. 13, ii. 221;\n  of matter, iii. 46.\n\nDog, intelligence of, ii. 230\u2010232;\n  wags its tail, ii. 280.\n\nDogmas, their relation to virtue and morality, i. 475 _seq._\n\nDogmatism, philosophical, opposed to criticism, ii. 10, 11;\n  its fundamental error, iii. 27.\n\nDomenichino, iii. 193.\n\nDonatello, iii. 193.\n\nDon Quixote, i. 311.\n\nDrama, the, i. 321\u2010330, iii. 211\u2010219.\n\nDrapery in sculpture, i. 296.\n\nDreams, distinguished from real life, i. 20 _seq._\n\nDuns Scotus, i. 111, ii. 237.\n\nDutch paintings, i. 269.\n\nEbionites, iii. 458.\n\nEckermann, \u201cConversations of Goethe,\u201d i. 362, iii. 240.\n\nEckhard, Meister, i. 492, 500, iii. 432, 435, 467.\n\nEdda, the, iii. 304.\n\nEgo, conception of, i. 132, 324, ii. 413, 487, iii. 3, 13, 284, 285;\n  the logical ego, ii. 333.\n\nEgoism, origin, nature, and scope of, i. 427, iii. 416, 417;\n  theoretical egoism, i. 135.\n\nEgyptians, gospel of, iii. 436, 444.\n\nEleatics, i. 33, 61, 93, ii. 85, 113, iii. 271.\n\nElection, doctrine of, i. 378, ii. 149.\n\nElephant, intelligence of, i. 29, ii. 232, 233.\n\nEloquence, ii. 305, 306.\n\nEmblems, i. 312, 313.\n\nEmotion, its origin and effect, ii. 346, iii. 407, 408.\n\nEmpedocles, i. 192, 288, 530, iii. 8, 34, 95, 271.\n\nEncratites, iii. 438.\n\nEnglish, the, their faults, ii. 131, iii. 92.\n\n\u1f11\u03bd \u03ba\u03b1\u03b9 \u03c0\u03b1\u03bd, iii. 65, 471.\n\nEnnui, i. 402, 404, iii. 413.\n\n_Ens realissimum_, ii. 125\u2010127.\n\nEnvy, iii, 389.\n\n\u03b5\u03c0\u03b1\u03b3\u03c9\u03b3\u03b7 and \u03b1\u03c0\u03b1\u03b3\u03c9\u03b3\u03b7, ii. 290.\n\nEpic poetry, i. 324, 413, iii. 211.\n\nEpicurus, Epicureans, i. 33, 37, ii. 181, 145, 177, 378, iii. 255, 261.\n\nEpictetus, i. 115, 116 n., 386, ii. 354, 356.\n\nEpiphanias, iii. 446.\n\nEquivocation, i. 79.\n\nErigena, Scotus, ii. 319, iii. 432, 470, 471.\n\nError, definition of, i. 30, 103\u2010105;\n  difference between man and brutes with regard to, ii. 243, _seq._;\n  pernicious nature of, i. 45, ii. 241 _seq._;\n  tragic and comic side of, ii. 243;\n  how perpetuated, ii. 243, 341.\n\nEsquirol, iii. 117, 328.\n\nEssenes, iii. 437, 451.\n\n_Essentia_ and _existentia_, their relation, ii. 129, 130;\n  their union in pure matter, ii. 218.\n\nEternity, conception of, i. 228, 360 _seq._, iii. 276.\n\nEthics, i. 441\u2010443, 474 _seq._, iii. 402\u2010409;\n  criticism of Kantian, ii. 133 _seq._;\n  of ancients, ii. 348, iii. 213, 214, 452.\n\nEthiopian, an original race, iii. 58.\n\nEtiology, subject and scope of, i. 124 _seq._;\n  its relation to the philosophy of nature, i. 182 _seq._\n\nEuchel, Isaak, his \u201cPrayers of the Jews,\u201d ii. 98.\n\nEuclid, criticism of his method, i. 90\u2010100, ii. 33, 164, 321\u2010323.\n\nEud\u00e6monism, ii. 348 _seq._\n\n\u03b5\u03c5\u03ba\u03bf\u03bb\u03bf\u03c2 and \u03b4\u03c5\u03c3\u03ba\u03bf\u03bb\u03bf\u03c2, i. 407.\n\nEuler, i. 55, 165, ii. 172 n., 187\u2010189, 192, 341.\n\nEuripides, i. 328, 453, iii. 214, 218, 400, 406, 443.\n\nEvidence, distinction between empirical and _a priori_, i. 85;\n  the predicate \u201cevident\u201d defined, ii. 308.\n\nEvil, meaning of word, i. 426;\n  the _punctum pruriens_ of metaphysics, ii. 375.\n  See _Pessimism_.\n\nExistence, vanity of, iii. 382 _seq._;\n  the end of, ii. 695.\n\nExperience, ii. 234 _seq._, 388 _seq._\n\nExperiment, ii. 268.\n\nExplanation, i. 105 _seq._, 125.\n\nExtension. See _Matter_.\n\nEye, i. 301, ii. 194, iii. 162.\n\nFame, i. 305, iii. 151.\n\nFanaticism, i. 466 n.\n\nFate, Fatalism, i. 389, 390, iii. 475.\n\nFear, effect of, ii. 429 _seq._;\n  origin of belief in God, ii. 130.\n\nFeeling, as sense of touch, ii. 195;\n  as opposite of knowing, i. 66\u201068.\n\nF\u00e9n\u00e9lon, i. 499.\n\nFernow, i. 293.\n\nFichte, i. 16, 33, 40\u201043, ii. 22, 31, 176, iii. 13.\n\nFit Arari, ii. 444.\n\nFlagellants, ii. 243.\n\nFlourens, ii. 133, 416, 417, 479, 494\u2010496, iii. 165, 326.\n\nFolly, a species of the ludicrous, i. 77 _seq._, ii. 277;\n  a characteristic of genius, iii. 153.\n\nForce, distinguished from cause, i. 144, 145, 174\u2010178, ii. 217;\n  inseparable from matter, iii. 54 _seq._\n\nForm and matter. i. 162, 168, ii. 215, iii. 26, 53\u201057.\n\nForms of thought, 86 _seq._;\n  their relation to parts of speech, ii. 85, 86.\n\nFrancis, St., i. 496, iii. 434, 459.\n\nFrauenst\u00e4dt, ii. 225.\n\nFrederick the Great, ii. 133.\n\nFreedom, as a metaphysical quality, i. 369 _seq._;\n  intellectual, iii. 407;\n  of the will, i. 376 _seq._, 388, 389, 520 _seq._;\n  criticism of Kant\u2019s doctrine, ii. 117 _seq._\n\nFrench, national character of, i. 510;\n  philosophy of, ii. 18, iii. 44, 45;\n  poetry, iii. 209;\n  music, iii. 244.\n\nFriendship, i. 485.\n\nFright, effect of, ii. 429.\n\nFroriep, ii. 209.\n\nFuture. See _Present_.\n\nGall, ii. 469, 494, 495.\n\nGalenus, ii. 297.\n\nGallows, iii. 456, 457.\n\nGanglia, their function in organism, ii. 484 _seq._\n\nGardening, landscape, i. 282;\n  difference between English and old French, iii. 175.\n\nGarrick, ii. 279, iii. 21.\n\n_Gem\u00fcth_, distinguished from mind, ii. 458, 459.\n\n_Generatio \u00e6quivoca_, i. 184 _seq._; iii. 54\u201056.\n\nGeneration, and death essential moments in life of species, i. 365, iii.\n            270\u2010273;\n  instinctive nature of act, iii. 309;\n  act viewed subjectively and objectively, iii. 292, 293;\n  inner significance of act, i. 423 _seq._, iii. 379;\n  reason of shame connected with, i. 423, 378;\n  existence a paraphrase of, iii. 377.\n\nGenius, i. 238\u2010247, 251\u2010253, ii. 245\u2010249, iii. 138\u2010166.\n\nGenital organs, the opposite pole of the brain, i. 425, iii. 87, 310;\n  independence of knowledge, i. 150, 426;\n  difference of plants, animals, and man in respect of, i. 204, iii. 35;\n  shame connected with, iii. 379;\n  symbolical language of, iii. 380.\n\nGenus, distinguished from species, iii. 123 _seq._;\n  construction of logical genus, ii. 103, 104.\n\nGeometry, content of, i. 9;\n  method of, i. 90 _seq._; ii. 321 _seq._\n\nGenre painting, i. 298.\n\nGichtel, iii. 434, 435.\n\nGilbert, ii. 196.\n\nGiordano, Luca, iii. 198.\n\nGiven, the, ii. 23, 84.\n\nGnostics, iii. 305, 432, 438, 442,\n\n\u03b3\u03bd\u03c9\u03b8\u03b9 \u03c3\u03b1\u03c5\u03c4\u03bf\u03bd, ii. 423.\n\nGod, origin of the word, iii. 446;\n  egotistical origin of belief in, ii. 130;\n  an asserted \u201cconsciousness of God,\u201d ii. 129, 141, 142;\n  criticism of proofs for existence of, ii. 128\u2010133.\n\nGoethe, his theory of colours, i. 26, 160, 245, ii. 433;\n  on genius, i. 247, iii. 19, 147, 151, 153, 156;\n  on effect of human beauty, i. 285;\n  on Laocoon, i. 293;\n  on painting of music, i. 295;\n  on fable of Proserpine and pomegranate, i. 311, 424;\n  his songs, i. 323, 210;\n  on indestructibility of human spirit, i. 362 n.;\n  \u201cConfessions of beautiful soul,\u201d i. 497;\n  power of sight of suffering, i. 512;\n  on persistency of error, ii. 4, 8;\n  unknown to Kant, ii. 152;\n  sensitive to noise, ii. 198;\n  metamorphosis of plants, ii. 225, iii. 85;\n  on skeletons of rodents, ii. 318;\n  on Kant, ii. 340;\n  never over\u2010worked, ii, 427;\n  example of folly of childhood, ii. 456;\n  on sleep, ii. 466;\n  \u201c_Wahlverwandtschaften_,\u201d iii. 37, 151, 164;\n  his love of natural sciences, iii. 39;\n  his height, iii. 160;\n  his childishness, iii. 163;\n  his mother, iii. 327;\n  quoted, i. 314, 366, ii. 14, 22, 294, iii. 132, 136, 369.\n\nGood, the conception, i. 464 _seq._;\n  nature of the good man, 465, 480, iii. 306, 307.\n\nGorgias, ii. 281, 286.\n\nGothic architecture compared with antique, iii. 189\u2010192.\n\nGozzi, Carlo, i. 237, ii. 276, iii. 169.\n\nGrace, distinguished from beauty, i. 289;\n  Christian doctrine of, i. 522 _seq._, 528, ii. 149.\n\nGracian, Balthasar, i. 311, ii. 250, iii. 401.\n\nGrammar, relation to Logic, ii. 85\u201087, 89.\n\n_Gravitas_, iii. 152.\n\nGravitation, i. 13, 26, 195, 212, 213, 398, ii. 225, 226, iii. 52, 394.\n\nGreatness in spiritual sense, iii. 150.\n\nGuicciardini, ii. 447.\n\nGuido Reni, iii. 191.\n\nGuilt, i. 204, 454, iii. 390, 415, 418, 420 _seq._, 448.\n\nGuion, Mme. de, i. 497, 505, iii. 432, 434, 435.\n\nHall, Marshall, i. 151, ii. 133, 433, 484, iii. 6.\n\nHaller, ii. 479, 488, iii. 328.\n\nHamilton, Sir W., ii. 323.\n\nHappiness, is negative, i. 411\u2010413;\n  from standpoint of higher knowledge, i. 456;\n  impossible in an existence like ours, iii. 382, 383;\n  and virtue, i. 466, iii. 420 _seq._\n\nHardy, Spence, i. 497, iii. 301, 303, 308 n., 434.\n\nHauz, iii. 45.\n\nHaydn, i. 304.\n\nHead, relation of, to trunk in brutes and man, i. 230;\n  opposite pole of genitals, i. 425, iii. 87, 310;\n  and heart, ii. 450 _seq._\n\nHealth, i. 190 _seq._, iii. 385.\n\nHearing, sense of, ii. 195\u2010199.\n\nHeart, the centre and _primum mobile_ of life, ii. 428, 479\u2010481;\n  opposition between head and heart, ii. 450 _seq._;\n  why love affairs are called affairs of the heart, iii. 373.\n\nHeathen, ii. 97.\n\nHeavens, sublime effect of, i. 266, 267.\n\nHegel, ii. 8, 22, 31, 171, 243, 261, 266, iii. 45, 224, 225, 394, 404,\n            436.\n\nHeine, Heinrich, ii. 283.\n\nHell, i. 419, iii. 387, 388, 392.\n\nHelvetius, i. 288 n., ii. 256, 444 446, iii. 8.\n\nHeraclitus, i. 8, ii. 256, iii. 399.\n\nHerder, i. 52, ii. 153, iii. 163.\n\nHeredity, iii. 318\u2010335.\n\nHermaphrodism, iii. 356.\n\nHerodotus, ii. 347, iii. 303, 398.\n\nHesiod, i. 425.\n\nHistory and science, i. 82, iii. 220, 221;\n  and philosophy, iii. 223;\n  and poetry, i. 315 _seq._, iii. 224;\n  and biography, i. 319;\n  the philosophy of, i. 236, 237, iii. 224\u2010226;\n  true value of, iii. 227 _seq._\n  untrustworthiness of, i. 238, 316, 317, iii. 223;\n  history of world and history of the saints, i. 497, 498.\n\nHobbes, i. 21, 361 n., 441, 446, 451 ii. 263, 453.\n\nHolberg, ii. 379.\n\nHoliness, inner nature of, i. 494, 495;\n  its independence of dogmas, i. 495, 509.\n\nHollbach, ii. 176.\n\nHome, ii. 153, 270.\n\nHomer, i. 236, 295, 311, 314, 324, iii. 400.\n\nHooke, i. 26, ii. 225, 226.\n\nHope, ii. 431.\n\nHorace, ii. 139, 140, 274, iii. 181.\n\nHorizon, mental, ii. 338.\n\nHuber, iii. 101.\n\nHuman race. See _Man_.\n\nHumboldt, Alex. von, ii. 64, iii. 112.\n\nHume, David, i. 15, 52, 89, ii. 8, 129, 130, 156, 157, 173, 207, 209 iii.\n            92, 92 n., 305, 327, 393, 394, 395.\n\nHumour, ii. 282\u2010284.\n\nHutcheson, ii. 270.\n\nHydraulics, science, of iii. 38;\n  as a fine art, i. 281, 282.\n\nHypothesis, correct, ii. 309;\n  effect of, on mind, ii. 432.\n\nI. See _Ego_.\n\nIdea (_Vorstellung_), what it is, ii. 400;\n  common form of all classes of, i. 3;\n  form of combination of all classes of, i. 5;\n  chief distinction among, i. 7;\n  idea of perception, i. 7\u201045, ii. 163\u2010227;\n  abstract, i. 45\u2010120, ii. 228\u2010395;\n  subjective correlative of, i. 13 (Cf. _Object_ and _World_);\n  the Platonic Idea (_Idee_) defined, i. 168, iii. 122;\n  distinguished from thing in itself, i. 209, 226 _seq._, 232, iii. 122\n              _seq._;\n  empirical correlative of, iii. 123.;\n  relation to individual things, i. 227, 233, iii. 275;\n  knowledge of, i. 220\u2010228, 271, ii. 335\u2010336, iii. 122, 126 _seq._;\n  grades of, in nature, i. 195\u2010199, 202;\n  the object of art, see _Art_;\n  misuse of word, i. 168, ii. 99, 100;\n  association of, see _Association_;\n  Kant\u2019s Ideas of reason, ii. 23 _seq._\n\nIdeal, in art, i. 287, 288;\n  opposition between ideal and real, ii. 400 _seq._\n\nIdealism, as opposed to realism, i. 3 _seq._, ii. 28 _seq._, 163, 167;\n  difference between empirical and transcendental, ii. 170, 184;\n  absolute, i. 134, 135.\n\nIdentity, law of, ii. 86\u201088;\n  philosophy of, i. 32, ii. 8, 400.\n\nIdyll, the, why it must be short, i. 413.\n\nIffland, ii. 426.\n\nIllusion distinguished from error, i. 28, 103, 104.\n\nImagination, an instrument of thought, ii. 240, 245;\n  an essential element of genius, i. 241 _seq._, iii. 141, 142.\n\nImitation, in art, i. 304;\n  of idiosyncrasies of others, i. 395.\n\nImmanent knowledge, opposed to transcendent and transcendental, i. 224,\n            ii. 387, iii. 430 n., 468.\n\nImmortality, iii. 75.\n  See _Indestructibility_.\n\nImpenetrability of matter, i, 13, ii. 103, 223 _seq._, iii. 52.\n\nInclination, definition, iii. 406.\n\nIndestructibility, of our true nature by death, Ch. 41 _passim_, iii.\n            249\u2010308.\n\nIndian, mysticism, 432;\n  sculpture, i. 309;\n  philosophy, iii. 281, 282;\n  caste i. 459, 460\n  (Cf. _Buddhism_ and _Brahmanism_).\n\nIndividuality, as phenomenon rooted in the thing in itself, i. 147, 219,\n            354, 357, 358, iii. 74, 428, 469;\n  at the different grades of nature, i. 170\u2010172;\n  language of nature with reference to, i. 355, 356, iii. 108 _seq._, 416,\n              417;\n  destruction of, by death, iii. 286, 298 _seq._\n\nInduction, ii. 310.\n\nInfinite, true conception of, ii. 115.\n\nInquisition, i. 466 n.\n\nInnocence, of plants, i. 204.\n\nInsects, fertilisation of plants by, iii. 90;\n  life of severed parts of, ii. 483;\n  ephemeral nature of, iii. 267.\n  See _Instinct_.\n\nInstinct, an act directed to an unknown end, i. 148, 150, 197, iii. 96,\n            346 _seq._;\n  relation of, to guidance by motives, iii. 96 _seq._;\n  relation to somnambulism, iii. 98;\n  throws light on organising work of nature, iii. 96\u2010100, 103;\n  in man, iii. 346 _seq._\n\nIntellect, pure, ii. 179, 180;\n  empirical, secondary nature of, ii. 411\u2010467, iii. 3 _seq._, 291;\n  end of, i. 199, 228, ii. 336, 485, iii. 21 _seq._;\n  degrees of, in series of animals and in man, iii. 29, 30;\n  parsimony of nature in imparting, iii. 20;\n  limitation of, to phenomena, iii. 21\u201029;\n  imperfections of, ii. 330\u2010344.\n\nInteresting, distinguished from beautiful, i. 229.\n\nIonic school, i. 33.\n\nIrritability as objectification of will, ii. 472 _seq._;\n  its connection with blood, ii. 478.\n\nIsaiah ii. 437.\n\nIslamism, iii. 423, 446.\n\nJacobi, i. 225 n., ii. 169.\n\nJealousy, iii. 364.\n\nJohnson, Dr. Samuel, i. 328.\n\nJones, Sir W., i. 8, 501 n.\n\nJoy, i. 410, ii. 429 _seq._\n\nJudaism, i. 300, iii. 305, 446.\n\nJudgment, faculty of, i. 30, 84 _seq._, ii. 152 _seq._, 266 _seq._\n\nJulian, Emperor, ii. 350.\n\nJung Stilling, ii. 243.\n\nJustinius, 305.\n\nJustice, as a virtue, i. 478, 479, iii. 424;\n  retributive, i. 452;\n  eternal, i. 427, 452\u2010458, 461, iii. 405, 421;\n  poetical, i. 328.\n\nKant, abstract and perceptible knowledge, ii. 25, 32, 80, 213;\n  \u00e6sthetic, ii. 32, 33, 189;\n  amphiboly, ii. 38;\n  analytic, ii. 33\u201089;\n  antinomy, i. 39, ii. 104\u2010125, iii. 45;\n  _a priori_ nature of space and time, i. 6, 8, 154, 155, ii. 169, 201,\n              202, iii. 276 _seq._;\n  on the beautiful, iii. 189;\n  categories, i. 57, ii. 43\u201047, 403;\n  causality, i. 16, ii. 58 _seq._, 173, 208, 209, 217, 385, 386, iii. 469;\n  character, empirical and intelligible, i. 138, 203, 349, 373;\n  chief result of Kantian philosophy, ii. 405;\n  childish in old age, ii. 427;\n  conceptions, philosophy a science of, ii. 259, 384;\n  cosmological proof, ii. 130;\n  cosmology, i. 194, ii. 225, 72;\n  critical philosophy, ii. 6\u201011;\n  criticism of functions of the brain, ii. 174, 185;\n  critique of judgment, ii. 152\u2010159;\n  critique of practical reason, ii. 133\u2010150;\n  critique of pure reason, ii. 3\u2010133 (fundamental thought of, ii. 18\u201020),\n              237, 377;\n  dialectic, 89\u2010133;\n  \u201c_Die Falsche Spitzfindigkeit_,\u201d ii. 300;\n  dreams distinguished from reality, i. 20, 21;\n  editions of Critique, ii. 29;\n  error, source of, i. 103;\n  ethics, i. 79, 110, 140, ii. 12, 133\u2010150;\n  freedom and necessity, ii. 377;\n  God, ii. 129, 130;\n  laws of homogeneity and specification, i. 83;\n  idealism of, ii. 29, 163, 164, 400 _seq._;\n  infinity, ii. 115;\n  judgment, reflective and subsuming, i. 85;\n  judgments, table of, ii. 56\u201078;\n  philosophy of law, i. 433, ii. 150\u2010152;\n  logic, transcendental, ii. 33\u2010133;\n  on love, 338;\n  theory of ludicrous, ii. 270;\n  influence of Kantian doctrine on mathematics, i. 94, 385;\n  explanation of matter, i. 12 n., iii. 54;\n  \u201cMetaphysical First Principles of Natural Science,\u201d i. 88, ii. 111, 219,\n              224, 225;\n  metaphysics, impossibility of, ii. 386 _seq._;\n  method of, ii. 53\u201055, iii. 5;\n  Kant\u2019s mother, iii. 327;\n  negative result of philosophy, ii. 17;\n  _nihil privativum_, i. 528;\n  sensitive to noise, ii. 198;\n  ontological proof, ii. 129, 130;\n  object of perception, ii. 33\u201043;\n  permanence of substance, ii. 78\u201081;\n  phenomenon and thing in itself, i. 9, 41, 155, 220, 6\u201012, 28, 181, 379,\n              389, 399, 486;\n  physico\u2010theological proof, ii. 130;\n  relation to Plato, i. 223 _seq._;\n  psychology, refutation of rational, ii. 100\u2010104;\n  reason, conception of, i. 49;\n  ideas of, i. 169, ii. 96\u2010100;\n  ideal of, ii. 125\u2010133;\n  principle of, ii. 90\u201096;\n  reciprocity, category of, ii. 61 _seq._;\n  schematism of categories, 48\u201051;\n  Scholastic dogmatism overthrown by, ii. 12\u201016, iii. 27;\n  Schopenhauer gone further than, iii. 28, 59;\n  his sleep, ii. 465;\n  speculative theology, refutation of, ii. 128\u2010133, 473;\n  spiritualism, refutation of, ii. 177;\n  style of, ii. 20, 21, 340;\n  subject, system starts from, i. 42;\n  theory of, sublime, i. 265;\n  love of symmetry, ii. 22, 47, 69, 76, 78, 106, 133;\n  synthetic unity of apperception, ii. 51, 52, 333, 476, iii. 12;\n  thing in itself, ii. 3, 31, 169, 381, 407;\n  transcendent, transcendental and immanent, i. 124, ii. 3, 87, iii. 24;\n  _das Vern\u00fcnfteln_ ii. 263;\n  weight an _a priori_ quality of matter, i. 13.\n\nKemble, i. 295.\n\nKepler, i. 87, 94, 137 n., iii. 41.\n\nKerner, Justinus, ii. 481.\n\nKielmayer, 318.\n\nKicser, ii. 326, iii. 99.\n\nKirby, iii. 91, 101, 103.\n\nKleist, i. 311.\n\nKlettenberg, Fr. von, i. 497.\n\nKnowledge, whence the need of, iii. 7, 8;\n  physiological and metaphysical view of, ii. 486, iii. 290, 291, 470;\n  aim of, ii. 475;\n  kinds of, i. 199, 230;\n  degrees of, iii. 29, 30;\n  why no knowledge of knowing, ii. 487;\n  influence of will upon, iii. 134;\n  influence of, on degree of sensibility and suffering, i. 400, iii. 16.\n\nK\u00f6ppen, iii. 301.\n\nKoran, ii. 361.\n\nK\u00f6r\u00f6si, Csoma, ii. 371.\n\nKosack, i. 96.\n\nKrishna, iii. 262.\n\nLactantius, ii. 98.\n\nLalita\u2010Vistara, iii. 168.\n\nLamarck, i. 185.\n\nLambert, i. 55, ii. 303.\n\nLandscape painting, i. 282.\n\nLanguage, the first production and tool of reason, i. 47, 48, 51;\n  connection of conception with word, ii. 238;\n  capacity for, depends on association of ideas, ii. 325;\n  the acquisition of several an important mental culture, ii. 238, 239;\n  against the modern habit of curtailing words, ii. 310 _seq._\n\nLaocoon, i. 292, iii. 198.\n\nLaplace, i. 194, ii. 225, iii. 72, 73.\n\nLatin, as universal language of scientific literature, ii. 310 _seq._\n\nLa Trappe, i. 510, iii. 455.\n\nLaughter, as a psychical act, i. 76 _seq._, ii. 270;\n  peculiar to man, ii. 280;\n  why pleasant, ii. 279;\n  insulting and bitter, ii. 281;\n  a test of moral worth, ii. 281.\n\nLavater, i. 312.\n\nLaw, philosophy of, i. 442, 452, ii. 150\u2010152, iii. 409\u2010414.\n\nLearning, on the subordinate value of, ii. 253 _seq._\n\nLee, Anne, iii. 449.\n\nLegislation, i. 446, 447.\n\nLeibnitz, i. 49, 111, 342, ii. 11, 81 _seq._, 141, 237, 391, iii. 91, 394\n            _seq._\n\nLeibnitz\u2010Wolfian philosophy, i. 64, ii. 8, 127, 129, 141, iii. 394.\n\nLeopardi, iii. 401.\n\nLessing, i. 292, ii. 16, 153, 169, iii. 305.\n\nLeszczynski, iii. 203 n.\n\nLeucippus, ii. 177, 378, iii. 61, 64.\n\nLichtenberg, ii. 113, 172 n., 198, 445. iii. 21, 203 n., 305, 332 n.\n\nLie, the, origin and end of, i. 434 _seq._\n\nLiebig, iii. 42.\n\nLife, nature of, iii. 36;\n  conflict with mechanical and chemical forces, i. 190;\n  opposition between organic and animal, ii. 489\u2010492;\n  blind striving, iii. 105\u2010118;\n  relation to dreams, i. 20, 415;\n  tragic and comic side of, i. 415, 416;\n  misery of, i. 401\u2010407, 417, iii. 114, 382\u2010401;\n  aim of, iii. 376, 384\u2010391.\n\nLight, mechanical explanations of, iii. 44 _seq._;\n  relation to heat, i. 262, 263;\n  explanation of pleasure given by, i. 258, iii. 137;\n  connection with architecture, i. 279, 280.\n\nLocke, i. 49, ii. 6, 7, 45, 81 _seq._, 141, 173 _seq._, 185 _seq._, 212,\n            213, 258, 259, 402, iii. 5, 23, 59, 394.\n\nLogic, definition of, i. 58, ii. 285;\n  value of, i. 57\u201059, ii. 286;\n  on what its certainty depends, ii. 268.\n\nLove, nature of all true and pure, i. 484 _seq._;\n  root and significance of sexual love, iii, 419, 339\u2010343, 360;\n  degrees of it, iii. 344\u2010361;\n  the _r\u00f4le_ of instinct in it, iii. 345\u2010349, 350\u2010360;\n  independence of friendship, iii. 345;\n  sublime and comic sides of, iii. 366 _seq._\n\nLucretius, i. 403, 411, 412, iii. 91, 93, 313.\n\nLully, Raymond, i. 510, iii. 455.\n\nLupus, Rutilius, ii. 286.\n\nLuther, i. 500, 525, ii. 145, 368, iii. 392, 421, 448\u2010451.\n\nLyric, subjectivity of, i. 321;\n  nature of the song, i. 322\u2010324.\n\nMachiavelli, ii. 135, iii. 158.\n\nMacrocosm, i. 212, iii. 404.\n\nMadness, nature of, i. 30, 248 _seq._, iii. 167;\n  criterion of, iii. 167 _seq._;\n  relation of knowledge of madman to that of the brutes, i. 249, ii. 243;\n  relation of, to genius, i. 246, 247;\n  prevalence among actors, iii. 168;\n  origin of, i. 249 _seq._, iii. 169, 170;\n  _mania sine delirio_, iii. 171, 172.\n\nMagnetism, animal, ii. 466, 467, iii. 76, 419.\n\nMaine de Biran, ii. 206, 507, 217.\n\nMalebranche, i. 178, 179, 522, ii. 15.\n\nMan, the human race, connection with rest of nature, i. 200 _seq._, 403,\n            ii. 377;\n  identity of essence of man and the brutes, i. 192;\n  difference between man and brutes, i. 46\u201048, 110\u2010112, 170, 171, 230,\n              384, 385, ii. 228\u2010233, 358, iii. 14\u201017, 380, 381;\n  transcendent unity of human race, iii. 75, 76;\n  turning\u2010point of will to live, i. 491 _seq._, iii. 381, 426;\n  origin of, iii. 358;\n  gradual degradation of, ii. 362.\n\nManich\u00e6ans, iii. 305.\n\nMannerists, i. 304, 305.\n\nManzoni, ii. 352.\n\nMarcionists, iii. 305, 438, 442, 443.\n\nMarcus Aurelius, ii. 356, iii. 323.\n\nMarriage, iii. 333, 334, 336\u2010375.\n\nMaterialism, i. 34 _seq._, ii. 175 _seq._, iii. 60\u201064, 261, 262.\n\nMathematics, scientific nature of, i. 81, 82;\n  ground of certainty of, i. 157, ii. 268;\n  and genius, i. 246, 247;\n  method of, i. 95 _seq._;\n  and logic, ii. 202;\n  value of, ii. 323.\n\nMatter, i. 10\u201013, 175, 275, 276, ii. 79, 103, 104, 218\u2010224, iii. 48\u201054.\n\nMaupertius, ii. 225.\n\nMaximus of Tyre, ii. 264.\n\nMaxwell, iii. 450.\n\nM\u00e2y\u00e2, i. 9, 21, 425, 454, 455, 471, 478, 481, 482, 489, 490, 514, 515, ii.\n            8, 10, 108 n., iii. 69, 418.\n\nMechanics, iii. 37, 39, 43 _seq._\n\nMedwin, iii. 160 n.\n\nMeister, J. C. F., ii. 152.\n\nMelancholy, i. 512.\n\nMelissus, ii. 264.\n\nMemnon, ii. 198.\n\nMemory, as a function of intellect, ii. 335, iii. 300;\n  difference between that of men and brutes, ii. 229, 230;\n  the influences acting upon, i. 30, 248\u2010251, ii. 200, 334, 438 _seq._\n\nMenenius Agrippa, i. 311.\n\n_Mens_ as opposed to _animus_, ii. 458.\n\nMenu, laws of, i. 433, 501 n., iii. 465.\n\nMerck, ii. 446, iii. 200.\n\nMetaphysics, i. 107, ii. 20, 359\u2010395 iii. 40.\n\nMetempsychosis, doctrine of, i. 458\u2010460, iii. 300\u2010306, 417, 418.\n\nMethod, i. 100, 108, ii. 53, 210, 259, 309, 310, 393.\n\nMetre, i. 314, ii. 205\u2010207.\n\nMind, presence of, ii. 430.\n\nMinor key, i. 337, iii. 243, 244.\n\nMissionaries, i. 460.\n\nMnemonics, ii. 325.\n\nModality, categories of, ii. 66\u201075.\n\nModesty, i. 303, iii. 202, 203.\n\nMohammedanism, ii. 361, 362, iii. 423, 433, 472.\n\nMolinos, iii. 434, 435, 435 n.\n\nMolock, ii. 243.\n\nMonarchy, i. 443, iii. 410.\n\nMonasticism, i. 499, iii. 448.\n\nMongolian race, iii. 58.\n\nMontaigne, i. 463 n., ii. 315, 465, iii. 378.\n\nMontalembert, iii. 435.\n\nMontanists, iii. 438.\n\nMonuments, value of historical, iii. 229.\n\nMoon, \u00e6sthetic effect of, iii. 136.\n\nMorality, i. 343, 477, iii. 405, 415, 423\u2010428 (Cf. _Ethics_).\n\nMorphology, i. 124, 125, 183.\n\nMortality, iii. 301\u2010302.\n\nMotives, Motivation, what they determine, i. 138, 212, 213, iii. 115;\n  what imparts power to, iii. 97;\n  intellectual condition of action of, i. 380, 381;\n  influence of nearness upon strength of, ii. 346;\n  influence upon intellect, ii. 436;\n  distinguished from instinct, iii. 97;\n  intellect as medium of, i. 199, ii. 336, 485, iii. 21 _seq._\n\nMovement, i. 194, ii. 226, 227, 483, 484, iii. 39.\n\nMozart, iii. 163.\n\nM\u00fcller, ii. 479.\n\nMultiplicity, i. 145, 146, 166, 167, iii. 69 _seq._, 274, 275.\n\nM\u00fcnchhausen, Baron, i. 34, ii. 278.\n\nMurder, i. 432, iii. 413, 414.\n\nMusic, metaphysics of, i. 330\u2010346, iii. 231\u2010248.\n\nMysteries essential to religion, ii. 367, 368, iii. 430.\n\nMysticism, Mystics, i. 499, 500, iii. 430 n., 430\u2010434.\n\nNakedness, i. 296.\n\nNature, what it means, iii. 1;\n  works of nature and works of art, iii. 1, 69, 70, 79;\n  inner nature of, i. 140 _seq._, 148, 152 _seq._, iii. 32, 33, 39;\n  perfection of works of, iii. 69, 70;\n  the circle of, iii. 267;\n  grades of, i. 195 _seq._, 202\u2010206;\n  continuity of, ii. 232, iii. 36, 85;\n  the conflict in, i. 191, 210, 211;\n  design of, i. 201\u2010211, 77 _seq._, 95;\n  relation to species and individual, i. 356, 425, 426, iii. 194, 277,\n              278, 396;\n  \u00e6sthetic effect of, i. 255, iii. 173, 174;\n  na\u00efvet\u00e9 of, i. 203, 204, 356, 362, 423, 491, iii. 380;\n  moral quality of, i. 518, iii. 106;\n  laws of, i. 126, 172, 175 _seq._., 183;\n  forces of, i. 126, 162, 169\u2010182, 202, ii. 217, 218, iii. 73, 259;\n  investigator of, ii. 318, 319, 383.\n\nNecessity, origin and meaning of conception, i. 97;\n  relation to the actual and possible, ii. 72 _seq._;\n  relation to contingent, ii. 67, 68;\n  as opposed to freedom, iii. 67, 69;\n  absolute necessity, 70.\n\nNerves, i. 131, ii. 173, 185, 481\u2010485.\n\nNewton, Isaac, i. 26, 64, 160, 165, 245, ii. 226, 268, 338.\n\nNirvana, i. 460, iii. 308 n., 374, 427, 428.\n\nNitzsch, iii. 269.\n\nNoise, ii. 198, 199, iii. 450.\n\nNominalism, ii. 85, iii. 125.\n\n\u03bd\u03bf\u03bf\u03c5\u03bc\u03b5\u03bd\u03bf\u03bd and \u03a6\u03b1\u03b9\u03bd\u03bf\u03bc\u03b5\u03bd\u03bf\u03bd, i. 93, ii. 85.\n\nNothing, relativity of conception, i. 528, iii. 272.\n\nNourishment, i. 357.\n\nNumenius, ii. 98.\n\n\u03bd\u03bf\u03c5\u03c2, ii. 459, iii. 390.\n\n_Nunc stans_, the, i. 227, 361 n., iii. 381.\n\nObject, conditioned by subject, i. 3, 6, 16, _seq._, 123, 124, ii.\n            166\u2010169, 170, 173, 179, 381.\n\nObjectification, i. 130, 166\u2010163, ii. 468.\n\nObjectivity, of genius and in art, i. 240, 321, 324, ii. 417, iii. 144,\n            210.\n\nObscurantism, iii. 328, 329.\n\nObry, iii. 303, 308 n.\n\nOcelius Lucanus, 113.\n\nOpera, iii. 92, 233, 234.\n\nOptimism, i. 420, ii. 391, iii. 390\u2010397, 436, 443, 449, 471 _seq._\n\nOrganism, ii. 468, iii. 77 _seq._\n\nOriginal sin, iii. 306, 421 _seq._, 426.\n\nOrpheus, iii. 303, 427, 433, 443.\n\nOsiander, i. 151.\n\nOssian, i. 324.\n\nOught, the absolute, i. 350, ii. 144.\n\nOum, iii. 430, 430 n.\n\nOupnekhat, i. 459, 501, iii. 425 n. 432, 433.\n\nOvid, 1. 396, 410.\n\nOwen, R., ii. 131, 203 n., iii. 82, 86, 91.\n\nP\u00e6stum, iii. 185.\n\nPain, i. 386, 410, 412, 413, iii. 384, 385.\n\nPaine, T., i. 231.\n\nPainting, i. 282\u2010292, 297\u2010301, 306\u2010310, iii. 193, 196\u2010198.\n\nPalingenesis, iii. 300, 301.\n\nPander, ii. 318.\n\nPantheism, iii. 106, 114, 403, 404, 471\u2010475.\n\nParacelsus, Theophrastus, iii. 280, 362.\n\nParmenides, i. 141, 425.\n\nParody, ii. 275, 276.\n\nParticles, logical, ii. 288, 315.\n\nPascal, i. 476, iii. 435.\n\nPassions, ii. 216, iii. 406, 407.\n\nPast, the, i. 359, 360.\n\nPedantry, i. 78, ii. 250 _seq._\n\nPelagianism, i. 525, ii. 368, 369, iii. 422, 448.\n\nPenitentiary system, i. 404, iii. 412.\n\nPerception, intellectuality of, i. 14\u201016, ii. 40, 174, 185, 192;\n  share of senses and brain in, ii. 185;\n  object of, i. 7, ii. 40;\n  relation to thing in itself, ii. 174, 401;\n  significance for knowledge, science, art, philosophy, and virtue, ii.\n              244\u2010269, iii. 131, 141 _seq._\n\nPerfection, ii. 15.\n\nPeripatetics, ii. 137, 145.\n\nPermanence of substance, ii. 78.\n\nPerpetual motion, ii. 65, iii. 395.\n\nPessimism, can be demonstrated, iii. 395;\n  the ground of distinction among religions, ii. 372 _seq._;\n  of the most significant religions, i. 420, iii. 423;\n  of great men of all ages, iii. 398 _seq._\n\n_Petitio principii_, definition of, ii. 308.\n\nPetit\u2010Thouars, Admiral, iii. 55.\n\nPetrarch, i. 487, 512, ii. 313, iii. 210, 363, 369, 370, 386.\n\nPetronius, ii. 130.\n\nPettigrew, i. 178 n.\n\nPhidias, iii. 195.\n\nPhilosopher, the, nature of, i. 21, 109, ii. 319, 359, 360, iii. 146, 147;\n  distinguished from poet, iii. 146, 147;\n  distinguished from sophist, ii. 362, 363.\n\nPhilosophy, source of, 1. 135, ii. 359\u2010361, 374;\n  task of, i. 107, 168, 350, 352, 495;\n  distinguished from science, i. 107, ii. 317;\n  as opposed to theology, ii. 367, 395, iii. 431, 453;\n  relation to art, iii. 176, 177;\n  relation to history, iii. 223;\n  method of, ii. 53, 210, 259, 393;\n  division of, i. 349;\n  cause of small progress of, ii. 395;\n  limits of, ii. 362, 363, 27, 405;\n  professors of, ii. 362, 363.\n\nPhlegmatic temperament, iii. 18, 161.\n\nPhysics, subject of, ii. 375;\n  relation to metaphysics, ii. 376\u2010384, iii. 40.\n\nPhysiognomy, i. 74, 74 n.\n\nPhysiology, i. 125, ii. 317, iii. 38.\n\nPico de Mirandula, ii. 240.\n\nPictet, iii. 304.\n\nPicturesque, iii. 130.\n\nPindar, i. 21.\n\nPitt, iii. 324.\n\nPlagiarism, ii. 225, 226.\n\nPlants, chief characteristics of, i. 357, ii. 29;\n  inner nature of, i. 152, iii. 34\u201036;\n  distinguished from animals, i. 25, 150, iii. 13;\n  form and physiognomy of, i. 203, 204;\n  metamorphosis of, iii. 85;\n  \u00e6sthetic effect of, i. 260, 288, 289.\n\nPlatner, ii. 270.\n\nPlato, on _a priori_ knowledge, ii. 201;\n  on being and becoming, i. 9;\n  relation to Giordano Bruno, ii. 114 n.;\n  figure of the cave, i. 311, ii. 8;\n  improper use of conceptions, ii. 211, 261, 264;\n  his D\u00e6mon, i. 349;\n  his dialectic, ii. 309;\n  source of error, i. 103;\n  errors in syllogistic reasoning, i. 93;\n  his ethics, i. 114, ii. 145, 149, 348;\n  \u03b5\u03c5\u03ba\u03bf\u03bb\u03bf\u03c2 and \u03b4\u03c5\u03c3\u03ba\u03bf\u03bb\u03bf\u03c2, i. 407;\n  hope the dream of waking, ii. 431;\n  his Ideas, i. 168, 220, 273, ii. 85, 99, 322, iii. 123, 274, 275;\n  on love, iii. 338;\n  on materialism, ii. 176;\n  on mathematics, 323;\n  on metempsychosis, 303;\n  his method, i. 239;\n  on music, i. 336;\n  on nature of nothing, i. 529;\n  on the nature of the philosopher, i. 21, 41, 109, 143; ii. 369, 374;\n  on plants, iii. 34;\n  on punishment, i. 451;\n  on reason, ii. 141;\n  on science, i. 83;\n  on sensual pleasure, iii. 349, 369;\n  his world of shadows, ii. 10;\n  on existence of soul, ii. 102;\n  his theism, ii. 98.\n\nPliny, iii. 378, 400, 451.\n\nPlotinus, ii. 218, iii. 51, 54, 432.\n\nPlouquet, i. 55.\n\nPlutarch, ii. 98, 319, iii. 124, 271 399.\n\nPoaching, a positive, not a moral fault, iii. 411, 412.\n\nPoet, the, grade; of, iii. 202;\n  marks of genuine, iii. 207;\n  bad influence of mediocre, i. 317 n.;\n  distinguished from philosopher, iii. 146, 147.\n\nPoetical justice, i. 328\n\nPoetry, i. 313\u2010330, iii. 38, 200\u2010219.\n\nPoint, extensionless, ii. 223;\n  immovable, ii. 219.\n\nPolarity, i. 187.\n\nPolier, Mme. de, i. 492, 501 n., ii 109.\n\nPosition, i. 9.\n\nPossibility, ii. 69, 72.\n\nPouchet, iii. 56.\n\nPoussin, i. 306.\n\nPraxiteles, iii. 195.\n\nPredestination, i. 378, ii. 149.\n\nPre\u2010existence, iii. 253, 254.\n\nPrejudice, ii. 268.\n\nPreller, ii. 357.\n\nPresent, the, i. 358\u2010360, iii. 271, 271 n.\n\nPriestley, i. 373, ii. 111, 224, 225, iii. 46.\n\nPriests, i. 466 n., ii. 362.\n\n_Principium individuationis_, i. 145, 146, 166, 454 _seq._, 481, iii. 274,\n            417, 418.\n\nPrinciple of sufficient reason, is _a priori_, i. preface xi., 6, iii.\n            469;\n  sphere of validity of, i. 7, 16, 17, 41, 106, iii. 405, 469;\n  importance of, i. 96, 107, ii. 316;\n  indemonstrable nature of, i. 96, 106;\n  fourfold root of, i. 7 (Cf. _Appendix_ to vol. iii.)\n\nProperty, right of, i. 432, 433 n., iii. 411.\n\nProse, as distinguished from poetry, i, 313, iii. 204\u2010206.\n\nProtestantism. See _Catholicism_.\n\nPrudence, i. 27, 245, 456.\n\nPsychology, ii. 412\u2010467.\n\nPunishment, distinguished from revenge, i. 449;\n  end of, i. 448\u2010450, iii. 412, 413;\n  measure of, iii. 413, 414.\n\nPyramids, i. 267, iii. 229.\n\nPythagoras, iii. 303.\n\nPythagoreans, i. 33, 86, 92, 95, 188, 343, ii. 319, iii. 95, 124, 427,\n            442, 452.\n\nQuality, of judgments ii. 57, 87;\n  as determination of matter, iii. 54;\n  natural forces as _qualitates occult\u00e6_, i. 126, 162, 170, 182, ii. 376.\n\n_Quid pro quo_, i. 79.\n\nQuieter of will, i. 301, 326, 327, 367, 396, 489, 490.\n\nQuietism, iii. 433\u2010435,\n\nRabelais, iii. 437.\n\nRadius, Justus, ii. 191.\n\nRameau, i. 58.\n\nRanc\u00e9, Abb\u00e9, i. 510, iii. 455.\n\nRaphael, i. 295, 300, 531, iii. 162.\n\nRationalism in theology, ii. 369.\n\nReading, disadvantage of much, ii. 253\u2010255.\n\nRealism, ii. 85, iii. 125.\n\nReality, definition, i. 30;\n  the present is the form of, i. 359, 360, iii. 271 n.;\n  of external world, i. 22, 23, ii. 169, 184.\n\nReason, the word, i. 48, ii. 141, 241;\n  function of, i. 50, ii. 137;\n  theoretical and practical, i. 30, 113, ii. 138, 139, 345; iii. 408;\n  prerogative of man, i. 46\u201048, 110\u2010112, 384, 385, ii. 228\u2010233, iii. 380,\n              381;\n  relation of language to, i. 47\u201051, ii. 238;\n  advantages and disadvantages, i. 45, 47, 68\u201075, ii. 234\u2010243, 345 _seq._;\n  compatible with want of understanding and with moral badness, ii. 136;\n  opposed to revelation, ii. 142;\n  Kant\u2019s Ideas of, i. 169, ii. 96\u2010100;\n  ideal of, ii. 125\u2010133;\n  principle of, ii. 90\u201096.\n\nReflection, definition, i. 46;\n  relation to perceptive knowledge, ii. 54 _seq._\n\nReflex movements, ii. 483\u2010484.\n\nReid, Dr. Thomas, ii. 189, 191, 207, 240.\n\nReil, i. 140, 159.\n\nReligion, significance of, ii. 367 _seq._;\n  value of, ii. 370;\n  fundamental distinction between, ii. 372 _seq._;\n  mysteries essential to, ii. 367;\n  demoralising influence of, i. 466 n.;\n  conflict with culture and science, ii. 370;\n  philosophy of, ii. 370\n  (Cf. _Buddhism_, _Brahmanism_, _Christianity_, _Judaism_, and\n              _Mohammedanism_).\n\nRepentance, i. 382, iii. 406, 407.\n\nReproduction. See _Generation_.\n\nRepublics tend to anarchy, i. 443.\n\nResignation. See _Will, denial of_.\n\nResolve, i. 387.\n\nRevenge, distinguished from punishment, i. 449;\n  relation to wickedness, i. 470;\n  a characteristic of human nature which is not to be confounded with\n              revenge, i. 462.\n\nRhetoric, i. 63, ii. 285, 286, 305, 306.\n\nRhyme. See _Poetry_.\n\nRhythm, in music, i. 339 _seq._\n  See _Poetry_.\n\nRichter, Jean Paul, ii. 22, 198, 270, 283, iii. 141, 143, 145.\n\nRight, negative nature of conception, i. 437, 444;\n  independent of State, i. 439, iii. 409;\n  positive i. 444, 446;\n  of property, i. 432 433 n., iii. 411.\n\nRitter, ii. 357.\n\nRomantic, distinguished from classical, iii. 209.\n\nR\u00f6sch, ii. 478, 480.\n\nRosenkranz, i. 203 n., ii. 29, 36, 117, 120, 121, 146\u2010148, 204 n., 212,\n            217, 225, 377.\n\nRosini, ii. 447.\n\nRousseau, i. 247, 343, ii. 136, 353, iii. 106, 325, 338, 397.\n\nRuins, sublime effect of, i. 267;\n  analogous to _cadenza_ in music, iii. 241.\n\nRuisdael, i. 255.\n\nSt. Hilaire, August, iii. 55.\n\nSt. Hilaire, Geoffroi, ii. 318, iii. 82.\n\nSakya Muni, iii. 168, 434.\n\nSalvation, the way of, iii. 460\u2010467.\n\nSangermano, iii. 301, 308 n.\n\nSannyasis, i. 496, ii. 352.\n\nSaphir, ii. 274.\n\nSceptics, i. 123, 124.\n\nSchelling, i. 187, ii. 22, 31, 116, 169, 176, 236, 261, iii. 62, 471.\n\nSchiller, i. 79, 318, ii. 148, 276, 321, iii. 215, 217.\n\nSchleiermacher, i. 67, 262, iii. 394.\n\nSchlegel, iii. 75.\n\nSchmidt, J. J., ii. 371, iii. 308 n.\n\nSchn\u00fcrrer, iii. 301.\n\nScholastics, Scholasticism, i. 82, 146, 162, 198 n., ii. 12, 13, 35, 100,\n            125, 126, iii. 125.\n\nScholiast, ii. 319.\n\nSchultz, ii. 480.\n\nSchulze, ii. 312.\n\nScience, nature of, i. 36, 58, 80\u201090, 105, 106, 229, 238, ii. 53, 252,\n            267.\n\nScott, Sir Walter, ii. 427, 457, iii. 328, 386, 399.\n\nScopas, iii. 195.\n\nSculpture, as opposed to painting, i. 292, iii. 193;\n  \u00e6sthetic effect of, iii. 200, 201;\n  significance of drapery in, i. 296;\n  antique, i. 309, iii. 194, 195;\n  modern, iii. 195.\n\nSecundus, Johannes, iii. 195.\n\nSelfishness. See _Egoism_.\n\nSelf\u2010knowledge, ii. 423.\n\nSelf\u2010renunciation, meaning of, iii. 423;\n  the appearance of freedom in the phenomenon, i. 388, 389.\n\nSeneca, i. 75, 246, 379, ii. 149, 234, 347, 350, 355\u2010358, 458.\n\nSensation, ii. 186\u2010191.\n\nSenses, ii. 193\u2010200.\n\nSensibility, i. 13.\n\nSentimentality, i. 512, 513.\n\nSerenity, i. 422, iii. 376.\n\nSeriousness, as the opposite of laughter, ii. 280;\n  as determining the tendency of life, iii. 149.\n\nSex, degree of, iii. 356.\n\nSextus Empiricus, i. 62, 93, 343, ii. 127.\n\nSexual impulse, difference between man and brute with reference to, i.\n            171, iii. 309;\n  significance and power of, i. 423, 425, 310, 312\u2010314, 376;\n  physiological correlative of, iii. 314;\n  its relation to happiness of life, iii. 376;\n  voluntary renunciation of satisfaction of, i. 430, iii. 376.\n\nShaftesbury, iii. 397.\n\nShakers, iii. 449.\n\nShakspeare, i. 21, 268, 511, ii. 239, 254, 306, 315, iii. 210, 214, 216,\n            321, 363, 369, 400, 457.\n\nShame, i. 424, iii. 379.\n\nShenstone, ii. 275.\n\nSi\u00e8cle, iii. 112 n.\n\nSight, sense of, ii. 193 _seq._\n\nSimonists, iii. 305.\n\nSimplicius, ii. 157.\n\nSirach, Jesus, iii. 352.\n\nSketches, value of, iii. 178.\n\nSkull, explained from vertebr\u00e6 iii. 85.\n\nSlavery, as a wrong, i. 432.\n\nSleep, necessity of, ii. 337, 428, 462, 463, 466;\n  action of vital force in, ii. 463, 466;\n  positive character of, ii. 464;\n  relation to brain life, ii. 465;\n  relation to death, i. 358, iii. 267 _seq._\n\nSocialists, iii. 250.\n\nSocrates, i. 288, 343, ii. 107, 281, 363, iii. 299, 249, 252, 405.\n\nSomnambulism, ii. 467, iii. 98 _seq._\n\nS\u00f6mmering, iii. 21.\n\nSophist, distinguished from philosopher, ii. 362, 363.\n\nSophistry, i. 63, ii. 263, 264.\n\nSophocles, i. 21, 295, 328, iii. 214.\n\nSoul, historical, iii. 2, 3, 13;\n  opposition between soul and body, ii. 102\u2010104, 378;\n  in what sense the word should be used, iii. 105;\n  a motive which has led to the assumption of, ii. 409;\n  theoretical and practical results of assumption, ii. 77, 409, 494.\n\nSouthey, ii. 427.\n\nSpace, ideality of, ii. 201\u2010204, 221;\n  opposition between space and time with reference to abstract knowledge,\n              i. 69, 70;\n  union of space and time the condition of duration and matter, i. 10\u201013,\n              ii. 78;\n  the framework of the phenomenal world, i. 187, 188;\n  whether the world is limited in space, ii. 109\n  (Cf. _Principium individuationis_).\n\nSpallanzani, ii. 469.\n\nSpecies, iii. 123.\n\n_Spectator_, ii. 233.\n\nSpinal cord, ii. 483\u2010484.\n\nSpinoza, on benevolence, i. 486;\n  biography of, i. 497;\n  explanation and use of concepts, i. 111, ii. 241, 266;\n  ethical teaching of, i. 114, 367, iii. 403;\n  God of, iii. 106;\n  on knowledge of Ideas, i. 231, 232 n.;\n  on immortality, iii. 280, 291;\n  on love, iii. 338;\n  method of, i. 100 n., 108, ii. 212;\n  his place in western philosophy, ii. 13 n.;\n  rejection of spiritualism, ii. 177;\n  conception of substance, i. 33, ii. 373, 391;\n  rejection of teleology, iii. 91, 93, 94;\n  on will, i. 164, 377, 385, ii. 120.\n\nSpiritualism, ii, 177.\n\nStahl, i. 64.\n\nState, the, i. 442\u2010448, 451, iii. 409\u2010411.\n\nStatics, ii. 226.\n\nStewart, Dugald, ii. 226, 240.\n\nStob\u00e6us, i. 114, 117, 118, 378, 506 n., ii. 137, 319, 350.\n\nStoics, Stoicism, i. 113\u2010120, ii. 453.\n\nStrauss, D. F., iii. 437, 457.\n\nStupidity, i. 30.\n\nStyle, ii. 44, 246, 247.\n\nSuarez, i. 146, 162, 198 n., ii. 13, 89, 100.\n\nSubject, the, has two parts, i. 132;\n  of will, iii. 126;\n  of knowing, i. 3, 6, 16, 123, 124, ii. 166\u2010169, 170 _seq._;\n  pure, will\u2010less subject of knowing, i. 253 _seq._, iii. 128 _seq._\n\nSublime, the, i. 259\u2010268.\n\nSubstance, origin and content of concept, ii. 103, 104;\n  principle of permanence of, ii. 78 _seq._;\n  and accident, i. 12 _seq._, ii. 79, 80.\n\nSuccession, i. 9.\n\nSuetonius, iii. 321.\n\nSuffering, universality of, i. 399 _seq._;\n  sanctifying power of, i. 511;\n  of life, i. 401\u2010407, 417, iii. 114.\n\nSufism, iii. 423, 432.\n\nSuicide, i. 408, 514\u2010520, iii. 117.\n\nSuidas, ii. 98.\n\nSulzer, ii. 141.\n\nSupernaturalism, ii. 369\n\nSwift, iii. 399.\n\nSwoon, the twin\u2010brother of death, iii. 256.\n\nSybarites, ii. 199.\n\nSyllogism, ii. 292\u2010304.\n\nSymbolism, i. 308 _seq._\n\nSymmetry, analogy with rhythm iii. 240, 241.\n\nSympathy, definition and division, iii. 419.\n\nSystems, philosophical, ground of interest in, ii. 360, 361;\n  contrast between Schopenhauer\u2019s and others, i. 32, ii. 180, 393;\n  division of those starting from object, i. 33;\n  error of those which proceed historically, i. 352;\n  criteria of truth of, ii. 391.\n\nTatianites, iii. 439.\n\nTauler, iii. 434, 435.\n\nTeleology, i. 201\u2010210, iii. 77\u201095.\n\nTennemann, i. 67, ii. 12.\n\n_Termini technici_, iii. 312.\n\nTersteegen, i. 496.\n\nTertullian, ii. 368, iii. 305, 439.\n\nThales, i. 33.\n\nTheodicy, iii. 394, 404.\n\nTheon of Smyrna, iii. 313.\n\nThilo, iii. 158.\n\nThing in itself, as opposed to phenomenon, i. 40, 44, 128, 142 145, 157,\n            166, ii. 31, 168, 169, 402, 403, iii. 292;\n  how knowledge of it can be attained, i. 41, 128, ii. 31, 174, 175, 404,\n              405;\n  in what sense it is the _will_, i. 142, ii. 407;\n  why our knowledge of it is not exhaustive, i. 157, ii. 406, iii. 9, 24,\n              25, 27, 286 _seq._;\n  in history of philosophy, i. 220, ii. 30, 117, 174, 185, 380, 390, iii.\n              45.\n\nTholuk, iii. 432.\n\nThorwaldsen, iii. 195.\n\nThracians, iii. 398.\n\nTiedemann, ii. 470.\n\nTien, ii. 97.\n\nTime, nature of, i. 9, 44, ii. 205, iii. 12;\n  ideality of, ii. 201, 204;\n  _pr\u00e6dicabilia a priori_ of, 121 _seq._ (Cf. _Space_).\n\n_Times_, the, i. 178 n., ii. 459, iii. 304, 450.\n\nTourtual, ii. 187.\n\nTragedy, i., 326\u2010330, iii. 212\u2010216. 454.\n\nTranscendent, ii. 387.\n\nTranscendental knowledge, i. 224;\n  philosophy, ii. 11.\n\nTravelling, \u00e6sthetic effect of, iii. 131.\n\nTrent, decrees of Council of, iii. 441.\n\nTreviranus, ii. 470, iii. 35.\n\nTruth, definition, i. 30, ii. 308;\n  foundation of, i. 100\u2010103;\n  difference between conceivability and truth, ii. 278;\n  relation to proof, i. 83, 84;\n  power of, i. 45, 179.\n\nUnderstanding, function of, i. 13, 14;\n  identity of nature at different grades, i. 26, 28, 29;\n  why sensibility is everywhere accompanied by, i. 30, 31, 228;\n  misuse of word, ii. 241;\n  defects and advantages of knowledge of, ii. 253;\n  keenness of, i. 27, 245.\n\nUngewitter, iii. 304.\n\nUniversal, two kinds of, i. 301\u2010303, iii. 124, 125;\n  knowledge of, ii. 335, 336;\n  universal truths, ii. 308.\n\nUpham, iii. 282.\n\nUtopias, i. 451, iii. 331.\n\nValentinians, iii. 305, 438.\n\nVaninus, Jul. C\u00e6sar, iii. 32, 106.\n\nVauvenarque, ii. 251.\n\nVedas, 9, 21, 114, 234, 266, 364 n., 458, 501, ii. 108 n., 362, iii. 303,\n            307, 426, 427, 433, 467.\n\nVelocity, ii. 226, 227.\n\nVirgil, i. 293, 295.\n\nVirtue, source of genuine, i. 475, 477, ii. 149, 252;\n  cannot be taught, i. 475, ii. 149;\n  relation to happiness, i. 466, iii. 420;\n  distinguished from reasonableness, ii. 134;\n  transition to asceticism, iii. 424, 425.\n\nVoltaire, i. 327, 329, ii. 157, 277, 428, 469, iii. 178, 252, 368, 395.\n            398, 404.\n\nVyaso, iii. 282.\n\nWeeping, i. 486\u2010488, iii. 406.\n\nWeighing, two ways of, ii. 227.\n\nWhewell, ii. 323.\n\nWieland, i. 246, ii. 427, iii. 200.\n\nWill, subject of, iii. 126;\n  identity of subject of will and knowledge, 132;\n  as the thing in itself, i. 142, ii. 407;\n  contrast between will and its phenomenal appearance, i. 145, 166,\n              213\u2010215, iii. 69\u201071;\n  objectification of, i. 130, 166\u2010168, ii. 468;\n  assertion of, i. 421\u2010427, iii. 376\u2010381;\n  denial of, i. 488\u2010514, iii. 420\u2010459.\n\nWindischmann, iii. 307, 425 n.\n\nWinkelmann, i. 289, 290, 292, 295, 309, 318, ii. 153.\n\nWinkelried, Arnold von, ii. 134.\n\n_Wirklichkeit_, i. 10.\n\nWit, i. 77, ii. 268, 277.\n\nWolf, i. 111, ii. 70 n., 90, 97, 102, 127, 225, 479, iii. 85.\n\nWordsworth, ii. 427.\n\nWrong, conception of, i. 431\u2010437.\n\nXenophanes, ii. 220, iii. 8.\n\nXenophon, i. 288.\n\nYama, iii. 258.\n\nYang, i. 187.\n\nYin, i. 187.\n\nY\u2010King, i. 188, 343.\n\nYouth, i. 324, iii. 304.\n\nYunghahn, iii. 112.\n\nZaccaria, Abb\u00e9, iii. 441.\n\nZend Avesta, 111. 391, 446.\n\nZeno, i. 117 118.\n\n\n\n\n\nCORRIGENDA AND ADDENDA IN VOL. I.\n\n\nPage xxxii. _insert_\n\nPreface to the Third Edition.\n\nWhat is true and genuine would more easily gain room in the world if it\nwere not that those who are incapable of producing it are also sworn to\nprevent it from succeeding. This fact has already hindered and retarded,\nwhen indeed it has not choked, many a work that should have been of\nbenefit to the world. For me the consequence of this has been, that\nalthough I was only thirty years old when the first edition of this work\nappeared, I live to see this third edition not earlier than my seventy\u2010\nsecond year. Yet for this I find comfort in the words of Petrarch: _Si\nquis tota die currens, pervenit ad vesperam satis est_ (_de vera\nSapientia_, p. 140). If I also have at last arrived, and have the\nsatisfaction at the end of my course of seeing the beginning of my\ninfluence, it is with the hope that, according to an old rule it will\nendure long in proportion to the lateness of its beginning.\n\nIn this third edition the reader will miss nothing that was contained in\nthe second, but will receive considerably more, for, on account of the\nadditions that have been made in it, it has, with the same type, 136 pages\nmore than the second.\n\nSeven years after the appearance of the second edition I published two\nvolumes of \u201cParerga and Paralipomena.\u201d What is included under the latter\nname consists of additions to the systematic exposition of my philosophy,\nand would have found its right place in these volumes, but I was obliged\nto find a place for it then where I could, as it was very doubtful whether\nI would live to see this third edition. It will be found in the second\nvolume of the said \u201cParerga,\u201d and will be easily recognised from the\nheadings of the chapters.\n\nFRANKFORT\u2010ON\u2010THE\u2010MAINE,\n_September 1859_.\n\nPage  xiv. line 9, _for_ \u201cpancorum\u201d _read_ \u201cpaucorum.\u201d\n\"    xix.  \"  17, _for_ \u201calchemists\u201d _read_ \u201cadepts.\u201d\n\"     xx.  \"  10, _after_ \u201cthere\u201d _insert_ \u201cunanimous.\u201d\n\"    xxi.  \"   3, _for_ \u201cwill appeal to any thinking mind no matter when\n            it comprehends it\u201d _read_ \u201cwill also some time be comprehended\n            by another thinking mind.\u201d\n\"   xxii. last line, _after_ \u201cnot\u201d _insert_ \u201cin this case.\u201d\n\"  xxiii. line 26, _for_ \u201cconceptions\u201d _read_ \u201cconception.\u201d\n\"    \"     \"   32, _for_ \u201corigin\u201d _read_ \u201cstem.\u201d\n\"   xxiv.  \"   20, _for_ \u201ca chromatic\u201d _read_ \u201can achromatic.\u201d\n\"      6, line 15, _for_ \u201cuniversality\u201d _read_ \u201ccommon or reciprocal\n            nature.\u201d\n\"     21,  \"   31, _for_ \u201c\u03a3\u03b9\u03b4\u03c9\u03bb\u201d _read_ \u201c\u0395\u03b9\u03b4\u03c9\u03bb.\u201d\n\"     31,  \"    7, _for_ \u201cmicrometre\u201d _read_ \u201cmicrometer.\u201d\n\"     41,  \"   11, _for_ \u201c\u03b8\u03b1\u03c5\u03bc\u03b1\u03be\u03b5\u03b9\u03bd\u201d _read_ \u201c\u03b8\u03b1\u03c5\u03bc\u03b1\u03b6\u03b5\u03b9\u03bd.\u201d\n\"     45,  \"   22, _after_ \u201cits\u201d _insert_ \u201ciron.\u201d\n\"     45,  \"   23, _for_ \u201cextend to\u201d _read_ \u201cquench.\u201d\n\"     48,  \"   31, _for_ \u201c\u03bb\u03bf\u03b3\u03b9\u03bc\u03bf\u03bd\u201d _read_ \u201c\u03bb\u03bf\u03b3\u03b9\u03ba\u03bf\u03bd.\u201d\n\"     49,  \"   22, _after_ \u201cto\u201d _insert_ \u201cabstract\u201d.\n\"     50,  \"   14, _after_ \u201cfunction\u201d _insert_ \u201cthe construction of the\n            concept.\u201d\n\"     62,  \"   26, _for_ \u201cKallisthenes\u201d _read_ \u201cCallisthenes.\u201d\n\"     75,  \"    1, _for_ \u201cfictum\u201d _read_ \u201cfictam.\u201d\n\"     91,  \"   18, _for_ \u201clatter\u201d _read_ \u201cformer.\u201d\n\"     93, lines 8 and 33, _for_ \u201c\u03bd\u03bf\u03c5\u03bc\u03b5\u03bd\u03bf\u03bd\u201d _read_ \u201c\u03bd\u03bf\u03bf\u03c5\u03bc\u03b5\u03bd\u03bf\u03bd.\u201d\n\"     99, line 17, _for_ \u201c42\u201d _read_ \u201c32.\u201d\n\"    114,  \"    7, _for_ \u201c\u03b5\u03c5\u03b4\u03b1\u03b9 \u03bc\u03bf\u03bd\u03b5\u03b9\u03bd\u201d _read_ \u201c\u03b5\u03bd\u03b4\u03b1\u03b9\u03bc\u03bf\u03bd\u03b5\u03b9\u03bd.\u201d\n\"    116  note, _for_ \u201c\u03b5\u03c6\u03b1\u03c1\u03bc\u03bf\u03b5\u03be\u03b5\u03b9\u03bd\u201d _read_ \u201c\u03b5\u03c6\u03b1\u03c1\u03bc\u03bf\u03b6\u03b5\u03b9\u03bd.\u201d\n\"    117, line, 30, _for_ \u201c\u03c8\u03bd\u03c7\u03b7\u03c2\u201d _read_ \u201c\u03c8\u03c5\u03c7\u03b7\u03c2.\u201d\n\"    118, lines 10, 12, _for_ \u201cKleanthes\u201d _read_ \u201cCleanthes.\u201d\n\"    119, line  7, _for_ \u201cphilospher\u201d _read_ \u201cphilosopher.\u201d\n\"    141,  \"   18, _for_ \u201c\u03a3\u03c3\u03c4\u03b9\u03bd\u201d _read_ \u201c\u0395\u03c3\u03c4\u03b9\u03bd.\u201d\n\"    146,  \"   23, _for_ \u201cbecame\u201d _read_ \u201cbecome.\u201d\n\"    157, line  4, _for_ \u201ccasuality\u201d _read_ \u201ccausality.\u201d\n\"    166,  \"    3, _insert_ \u00a7 25.\n\"    169,  \"    5, _for_ \u201cLaertes\u201d _read_ \u201cLaertius.\u201d\n\"    172,  \"   32, _for_ \u201ccasuality\u201d _read_ \u201ccausality.\u201d\n\"    182,  \"    8, _for_ \u201cquidities\u201d _read_ \u201cquiddities.\u201d\n\"    184,  \"   30, _for_ \u201cthis\u201d _read_ \u201cthus.\u201d\n\"    205,  \"   35, _for_ \u201ccasuality\u201d _read_ \u201ccausality.\u201d\n\"    220,  \"   32, _for_ \u201c\u03b5\u03b9\u03b4\u03b7\u201d _read_ \u201c\u03b5\u03b9\u03b4\u03b7.\u201d\n\"    222,  \"   24, _for_ \u201ccasuality\u201d _read_ \u201ccausality.\u201d\n\"    223, lines 4 and 33, _for_ \u201ccasuality\u201d _read_ \u201ccausality.\u201d\n\"    224, line  8, _for_ \u201ccasuality\u201d _read_ \u201ccausality.\u201d\n\"    230,  \"   19, _for_ \u201cApollo of Belvedere\u201d _read_ \u201cApollo Belvedere.\u201d\n\"    231, last line, _for_ \u201cMeus\u201d _read_ \u201cMens.\u201d\n\nPage 247, line 17, _for_ \u201cGreat wits to madness sure are near allied\u201d\n            _read_ \u201cGreat wits are sure to madness near allied.\u201d The lines\n            are not from Pope, as Schopenhauer says, but from Dryden\u2019s\n            \u201cAbsalom and Achitophel,\u201d Pt. i., l. 163.\n\"   251,  \"   15, _for_ \u201cappear\u201d _read_ \u201cappears.\u201d\n\"   258,  \"   18, _for_ \u201cAhrimines\u201d _read_ \u201cAhriman.\u201d\n\"   276, lines 9 and 11, _for_ \u201ccasuality\u201d and \u201ccasual\u201d _read_ \u201ccausality\u201d\n            and \u201ccausal;\u201d line 23, _for_ \u201cTimaus\u201d _read_ \u201cTim\u00e6us.\u201d\n\"   382, line 32, _for_ \u201cas\u201d _read_ \u201cbut.\u201d\n\"   396,  \"    5, _for_ \u201c\u03b1\u03bd\u03b1\u03b3\u03ba\u03b7\u201d _read_ \u201c\u03b1\u03bd\u03b1\u03b3\u03ba\u1fc3.\u201d\n\"   423,  \"   35, _for_ \u201cprincipiu mindividuationis\u201d _read_ \u201cprincipium\n            individuationis.\u201d\n\"   425,  \"    7, _no comma after_ \u201c\u03b2\u03b1\u03c3\u03b9\u03bb\u03b5\u03b9\u03b1\u03bd.\u201d\n\"   429,  \"   25, _after_ \u201cchapter\u201d _insert_ \u201cof his.\u201d\n\"   445, last line, _for_ \u201c\u03b6\u03b7\u03bd\u201d _read_ \u201c\u03b6\u1fc3\u03bd.\u201d\n\"   453, lines 4 and 5, _for_ \u201c\u03c0\u03b1\u03c1\u201d _read_ \u201c\u03c0\u03b1\u03c2.\u201d\n\"   455, line 10, _for_ \u201cprineipium\u201d _read_ \u201cprincipium.\u201d\n\"   463,  \"   27, _for_ \u201cever\u201d _read_ \u201cevery.\u201d\n\"   467,  \"    5, _for_ \u201c\u03c0\u03c1\u03c9\u03c2\u201d _read_ \u201c\u03c0\u03c1\u03bf\u03c2.\u201d\n\"   496,  \"   25, _for_ \u201cWiedergeborennen\u201d _read_ \u201cWiedergeborenen.\u201d\n\"   520,  \"    9, _for_ \u201cthough this is hard to find out\u201d _read_ \u201cwhich is\n            certainly hard to explain.\u201d\n\"   531,  \"   16, _for_ \u201cwish to fruition\u201d _read_ \u201cdesire to aversion.\u201d\n\n\n\n\n\n\nFOOTNOTES\n\n\n    1 This chapter is connected with the last half of \u00a7 27 of the first\n      volume.\n\n    2 _De Augm. Scient._, L. vi. c. 3.\n\n    3 This chapter is connected with \u00a7 23 of the first volume.\n\n    4 This chapter and the following one are connected with \u00a7 28 of the\n      first volume.\n\n    5 Let me here remark in passing that, judging from the German\n      literature since Kant, one would necessarily believe that Hume\u2019s\n      whole wisdom had consisted in his obviously false scepticism with\n      regard to the law of causality, for this alone is everywhere\n      referred to. In order to know Hume one must read his \u201cNatural\n      History of Religion\u201d and his \u201cDialogues on Natural Religion.\u201d There\n      one sees him in his greatness, and these, together with Essay 21 \u201cOf\n      National Characters,\u201d are the writings on account of which\u2014I know of\n      nothing that says more for his fame\u2014even to the present day, he is\n      everywhere hated by the English clergy.\n\n    6 This chapter is connected with \u00a7 29 of the first volume.\n\n    7 In the _Si\u00e8cle_, 10th April 1859, there appears, very beautifully\n      written, the story of a squirrel that was magically drawn by a\n      serpent into its very jaws: \u201cUn voyageur qui vient de parcourir\n      plusieurs provinces de l\u2019ile de Java cite un exemple remarqueable du\n      pouvoir facinateur des serpens. Le voyageur dont il est question\n      commen\u00e7ait \u00e0 gravir Junjind, un des monts appel\u00e9s par les Hollandais\n      Pepergebergte. Apr\u00e8s avoir p\u00e9n\u00e9tr\u00e9 dans une \u00e9paisse for\u00eat, il\n      aper\u00e7ut sur les branches d\u2019un kijatile un \u00e9cureuil de Java \u00e0 t\u00eate\n      blanche, fol\u00e2trant avec la gr\u00e2ce et l\u2019agilit\u00e9 qui distinguent cette\n      charmante esp\u00e8ce de rongeurs. Un nid sph\u00e9rique, form\u00e9 de brins\n      flexible et de mousse, plac\u00e9 dans les parties les plus \u00e9lev\u00e9es de\n      l\u2019arbre, a l\u2019enfourchure de deux branches, et une cavit\u00e9 dans le\n      tronc, semblaient les points de mire de ses jeux. A peine s\u2019en\n      \u00e9tait\u2010il \u00e9loign\u00e9 qu\u2019il y revenait avec une ardeur extr\u00eame. On \u00e9tait\n      dans le mois de Juillet, et probablement l\u2019\u00e9cureuil avait en haut\n      ses petits, et dans le bas le magasin \u00e0 fruits. Bient\u00f4t il fut comme\n      saisi d\u2019effroi, ces mouvemens devinrent d\u00e9sordonn\u00e9s, on eut dit\n      qu\u2019il cherchait toujours \u00e0 mettre un obstacle entre lui et certaines\n      parties de l\u2019arbre: puis il se tapit et resta immobile entre deux\n      branches. Le voyageur eut le sentiment d\u2019un danger pour l\u2019innocente\n      b\u00eate, mais il ne pouvait deviner lequel. Il approcha, et un examen\n      attentif lui fit d\u00e9couvrir dans un creux du tronc une couleuvre\n      lieu, dardant ses yeux fixes dans la direction de l\u2019\u00e9cureuil. Notre\n      voyageur trembla pour le pauvre \u00e9cureuil. La couleuvre \u00e9tait si\n      attentive \u00e0 sa proie qu\u2019elle ne semblait nullement remarquer la\n      pr\u00e9sence d\u2019un homme. Notre voyageur, qui \u00e9tait arm\u00e9, aurait donc\n      prevenir en aide \u00e0 l\u2019infortun\u00e9 rongeur en tuant le serpent. Mais la\n      science l\u2019emporta sur la piti\u00e9, et il voulut voir quelle issue\n      aurait le drame. Le d\u00e9no\u00fbment fut tragique. L\u2019\u00e9cureuil ne tarda\n      point \u00e0 pousser un cri plaintif qui, pour tous ceux qui le\n      connaissent, d\u00e9note le voisinage d\u2019un serpent. Il avan\u00e7a un peu,\n      essaya de reculer, revint encore en avant, t\u00e2che de retourner en\n      arri\u00e8re. Mais s\u2019approcha toujours plus du reptile. La couleuvre,\n      roul\u00e9e en spirale, la t\u00eate au dessus des anneaux, et immobile comme\n      un morceau de bois, ne le quittait pas du regard. L\u2019\u00e9cureuil, de\n      branche en branche, et descendant toujours plus bas, arriva jusqu\u2019\u00e0\n      la partie nue du tronc. Alors le pauvre animal ne tenta m\u00eame plus de\n      fuir le danger. Attir\u00e9 par une puissance invincible, et comme pouss\u00e9\n      par le vertige, il se pr\u00e9cipita dans la gueule du serpent, qui\n      s\u2019ouvrit tout \u00e0 coup d\u00e9mesur\u00e9ment pour le recevoir. Autant la\n      couleuvre avait \u00e9t\u00e9 inerte jusque l\u00e0 autant elle devint active d\u00e8s\n      qu\u2019elle fut en possession de sa proie. D\u00e9roulant ses anneaux et\n      prenant sa course de bas en haut avec une agilit\u00e9 inconcevable, sa\n      reptation la porta en un clin d\u2019\u0153il au sommet de l\u2019arbre, o\u00f9 elle\n      alla sans doute dig\u00e9rer et dormir.\u201d\n\n      In this example we see what spirit animates nature, for it reveals\n      itself in it, and how very true is the saying of Aristotle quoted\n      above (p. 106). This story is not only important with regard to\n      fascination, but also as an argument for pessimism. That an animal\n      is surprised and attacked by another is bad; still we can console\n      ourselves for that; but that such a poor innocent squirrel sitting\n      beside its nest with its young is compelled, step by step,\n      reluctantly, battling with itself and lamenting, to approach the\n      wide, open jaws of the serpent and consciously throw itself into\n      them is revolting and atrocious. What monstrous kind of nature is\n      this to which we belong!\n\n    8 \u201c_Augustini de civit. Dei_,\u201d L. xi. c. 27, deserves to be compared\n      as an interesting commentary on what is said here.\n\n    9 This chapter is connected with \u00a7\u00a7 30\u201032 of the first volume.\n\n   10 This chapter is connected with \u00a7\u00a7 33\u201034 of the first volume.\n\n   11 This chapter is connected with \u00a7 36 of the first volume.\n\n   12 There is nothing else in the world but the vulgar.\n\n   13 In Medwin\u2019s \u201cConversations of Lord Byron,\u201d p. 333.\n\n   14 This chapter is connected with the second half of \u00a7 36 of the first\n      volume.\n\n   15 _Rgya Tcher Rol Pa, Hist. de Bouddha Chakya Mouni, trad. du\n      Tib\u00e9tain_, p. _Foucaux_, 1848, p. 91 et 99.\n\n   16 In German inferiors are sometimes addressed as _Er_ instead of\n      _Sie_.\u2014_Trs._\n\n   17 This chapter is connected with \u00a7 38 of the first volume.\n\n   18 This chapter is connected with \u00a7 49 of the first volume.\n\n   19 This chapter is connected with \u00a7 43 of the first volume.\n\n   20 This chapter is connected with \u00a7\u00a7 44\u201050 of the first volume.\n\n   21 This chapter is connected with \u00a7 51 of the first volume.\n\n   22 Lichtenberg (\u201c_Vermischte Schriften_,\u201d new edition, G\u00f6ttingen, 1884,\n      vol. iii. p. 19) quotes Stanislaus Leszczynski as having said, \u201c_La\n      modestie devroit \u00eatre la vertu de ceux, a qui les autres manquent_.\u201d\n\n   23 This chapter is connected with \u00a7 51 of the first volume.\n\n   24 Let me remark in passing that from this opposition of \u03c0\u03bf\u03b9\u03b7\u03c3\u03b9\u03c2 and\n      \u1f31\u03c3\u03c4\u03bf\u03c1\u03b9\u03b1 the origin, and also the peculiar significance, of the first\n      word comes out with more than ordinary distinctness; it signifies\n      that which is made, invented, in opposition to what is discovered.\n\n   25 This chapter is connected with \u00a7 52 of the first volume.\n\n   26 It would be a false objection that sculpture and painting are also\n      merely in space; for their works are connected, not directly, but\n      yet indirectly, with time, for they represent life, movement,\n      action. And it would be just as false to say that poetry, as speech,\n      belongs to time alone: this is also true only indirectly of the\n      words; its matter is all existent, thus spatial.\n\n   27 This chapter is connected with \u00a7 54 of the first volume.\n\n   28 _In gladiatoriis pugnis timidos et supplices, et, ut vivere liceat,\n      obsecrantes etiam odisse solemus; fortes et animosos, et se acriter\n      ipsos morti offerentes servare cupimus_ (_Cic. pro Milone_, c. 34).\n\n   29 The suspension of the _animal_ functions is sleep, that of the\n      _organic_ functions is death.\n\n   30 There is only _one present_, and this is always: for it is the sole\n      form of actual existence. One must attain to the insight that the\n      _past_ is not _in itself_ different from the present, but only in\n      our apprehension, which has time as its form, on account of which\n      alone the present exhibits itself as different from the past. To\n      assist this insight, imagine all the events and scenes of human\n      life, bad and good, fortunate and unfortunate, pleasing and\n      terrible, as they successively present themselves in the course of\n      time and difference of places, in the most checkered\n      multifariousness and variety, as _at once and together_, and always\n      present in the _Nunc stans_, while it is only apparently that now\n      this and now that is; then what the objectification of the will to\n      live really means will be understood. Our pleasure also in _genre_\n      painting depends principally upon the fact that it fixes the\n      fleeting scenes of life. The dogma of metempsychosis has proceeded\n      from the feeling of the truth which has just been expressed.\n\n   31 This posthumous essay is to be found in the \u201cEssays on Suicide and\n      the Immortality of the Soul\u201d by the late David Hume, Basil, 1799,\n      sold by James Decker. By this reprint at B\u00e2le these two works of one\n      of the greatest thinkers and writers of England were rescued from\n      destruction, when in their own land, in consequence of the stupid\n      and utterly contemptible bigotry which prevailed, they had been\n      suppressed through the influence of a powerful and insolent\n      priesthood, to the lasting shame of England. They are entirely\n      passionless, coldly rational investigations of the two subjects\n      named.\n\n   32 Death says: Thou art the product of an act which should not have\n      been; therefore to expiate it thou must die.\n\n   33 _Sancara, s. de theologumenis Vedanticorum_, ed. F. H. H.\n      Windischmann, p. 37; \u201c_Oupnekhat_,\u201d vol. i. p. 387 _et_ p. 78;\n      Colebrooke\u2019s \u201cMiscellaneous Essays,\u201d vol. i. p. 363.\n\n   34 The etymology of the word Nirvana is variously given. According to\n      Colebrooke (\u201cTransact. of the Royal Asiat. Soc.,\u201d vol. i. p. 566) it\n      comes from _va_, \u201cto blow,\u201d like the wind, and the prefixed negative\n      _nir_, and thus signifies a calm, but as an adjective\n      \u201cextinguished.\u201d Obry, also, _Du Nirvana Indien_, p. 3, says:\n      \u201c_Nirvanam en sanscrit signifie \u00e0 la lettre extinction, telle que\n      celle d\u2019un feu_.\u201d According to the \u201cAsiatic Journal,\u201d vol. xxiv. p.\n      735, the word is really Neravana, from _nera_, \u201cwithout,\u201d and\n      _vana_, \u201clife,\u201d and the meaning would be _annihilatio_. In \u201cEastern\n      Monachism,\u201d by Spence Hardy, p. 295, Nirvana is derived from _vana_,\n      \u201csinful desires,\u201d with the negative _nir_. J. J. Schmidt, in his\n      translation of the history of the Eastern Mongolians, says that the\n      Sanscrit word Nirvana is translated into Mongolian by a phrase which\n      signifies \u201cdeparted from misery,\u201d \u201cescaped from misery.\u201d According\n      to the learned lectures of the same in the St. Petersburg Academy,\n      Nirvana is the opposite of Sanfara, which is the world of constant\n      re\u2010birth, of longings and desires, of illusion of the senses and\n      changing forms, of being born, growing old, becoming sick, and\n      dying. In the Burmese language the word Nirvana, according to the\n      analogy of other Sanscrit words, becomes transformed into Nieban,\n      and is translated by \u201ccomplete vanishing.\u201d See Sangermano\u2019s\n      \u201cDescription of the Burmese Empire,\u201d translated by Tandy, Rome,\n      1833, \u00a7 27. In the first edition of 1819 I also wrote Nieban,\n      because we then knew Buddhism only from meagre accounts of the\n      Burmese.\n\n   35 \u201c_Disputatio de corporum habitudine, anim\u00e6, hujusque virium\n      indice._\u201d _Harderov._, 1789, \u00a7 9.\n\n   36 Lichtenberg says in his miscellaneous writings (G\u00f6ttingen, 1801,\n      vol. ii. p. 447): \u201cIn England it was proposed to castrate thieves.\n      The proposal is not bad: the punishment is very severe; it makes\n      persons contemptible, and yet leaves them still fit for trades; and\n      if stealing is hereditary, in this way it is not propagated.\n      Moreover, the courage ceases, and since the sexual passion so\n      frequently leads to thefts, this cause would also disappear. The\n      remark that women would so much the more eagerly restrain their\n      husbands from stealing is roguish, for as things are at present they\n      risk losing them altogether.\u201d\n\n   37 I have not ventured to express myself distinctly here: the courteous\n      reader must therefore translate the phrase into Aristophanic\n      language.\n\n   38 The fuller discussion of this subject will be found in the\n      \u201cParerga,\u201d vol. ii. \u00a7 92 of the first edition (second edition, pp.\n      167\u2010170).\n\n   39 [The appendix to this chapter was added only in the third edition of\n      the German, and is meant to explain, in consistency with\n      Schopenhauer\u2019s general principles, the wide prevalence of the\n      practice of pederasty, among different nations and in different\n      ages. It is omitted.\u2014_Trs._]\n\n   40 This chapter is connected with \u00a7 60 of the first volume.\n\n   41 This chapter is connected with \u00a7\u00a7 56\u201059 of the first volume. Also\n      chapters 11 and 12 of the second volume of the \u201cParerga and\n      Paralipomena\u201d should be compared with it.\n\n   42 All that we lay hold of resists us because it has its own will,\n      which must be overcome.\n\n   43 This chapter is connected with \u00a7\u00a7 55, 62, 67 of the first volume.\n\n   44 This chapter is connected with \u00a7 68 of the first volume. Chapter 14\n      of the second volume of the Parerga should also be compared with it.\n\n   45 If, on the contrary, asceticism is admitted, the list of the\n      ultimate motives of human action, given in my prize essay on the\n      foundation of morals, namely: (1) our own good, (2) the ill of\n      others, and (3) the good of others, must be supplemented by a\n      fourth, our own ill; which I merely mention here in passing in the\n      interests of systematic consistency. In the essay referred to this\n      fourth motive had to be passed over in silence, for the question\n      asked was stated in the spirit of the philosophical ethics\n      prevailing in Protestant Europe.\n\n   46 _Cf._ F. H. H. Windischmann\u2019s _Sancara, sive de theologumenis\n      Vedanticorum_, pp. 116, 117, 121; and also _Oupnekhat_, vol. i. pp.\n      340, 356, 360.\n\n   47 Cf. _Die beiden Grundprobleme der Ethik_, p. 274 (second edition, p.\n      271).\n\n   48 If we keep in view the essential immanence of our knowledge and of\n      all knowledge, which arises from the fact that it is a secondary\n      thing which has only appeared for the ends of the will, it then\n      becomes explicable to us that all mystics of all religions\n      ultimately attain to a kind of ecstasy, in which all and every\n      knowledge, with its whole fundamental form, object and subject,\n      entirely ceases, and only in this sphere, which lies beyond all\n      knowledge, do they claim to have reached their highest goal, for\n      they have then attained to the sphere in which there is no longer\n      any subject and object, and consequently no more knowledge, just\n      because there is no more will, the service of which is the sole\n      destiny of knowledge.\n\n      Now, whoever has comprehended this will no longer regard it as\n      beyond all measure extravagant that Fakirs should sit down, and,\n      contemplating the tip of their nose, seek to banish all thought and\n      perception, and that in many passages of the Upanischads\n      instructions are given to sink oneself, silently and inwardly\n      pronouncing the mysterious Oum, in the depths of one\u2019s own being,\n      where subject and object and all knowledge disappear.\n\n   49 _S. Bonaventur\u00e6 vita S. Francisci_, ch. 8. K. Hase, \u201c_Franz von\n      Assisi_,\u201d ch. 10. \u201c_I cantici di S. Francesco,_\u201d _editi da Schlosser\n      e Steinle., Francoforto, s.M._, 1842.\n\n   50 _Mich\u00e6lis de Molinos manuductio spiritualis; hispanice 1675, italice\n      1680, latine 1687, gallice in libro non adeo raro, cui titulus:\n      Recueil de diverses pi\u00e8ces concernant le qui\u00e9tisme, ou Molinos et\n      ses disciples. Amstd., 1688._\n\n   51 Matt. xix. 11 _seq._; Luke xx. (1 Thess. iv. 3; 1 John iii. 3); Rev.\n      35\u201037; 1 Cor. vii. 1\u201011 and 25\u201040, xiv. 4.\n\n   52 Cf. \u201c_Ueber den Willen in der Natur_,\u201d second edition, p. 124; third\n      edition, p. 135.\n\n   53 For example, John xii. 25, 31, xiv. 30, xv. 18, 19, xvi. 33; Col.\n      ii. 20; Eph. ii. 1\u20103; I John ii. 15\u201017, iv. 4, 5. On this\n      opportunity one may see how certain Protestant theologians, in their\n      efforts to misinterpret the text of the New Testament in conformity\n      with their rationalistic, optimistic, and unutterably shallow view\n      of life, go so far that they actually falsify this text in their\n      translations. Thus H. A. Schott, in his new version given with the\n      Griesbach text of 1805, has translated the word \u03ba\u03bf\u03c3\u03bc\u03bf\u03c2, John xv. 18,\n      19, by _Jud\u0153i_, 1 John iv. 4, by _profani homines_; and Col. ii. 20,\n      \u03c3\u03c4\u03bf\u03b9\u03c7\u03b5\u03b9\u03b1 \u03c4\u03bf\u03c5 \u03ba\u03bf\u03c3\u03bc\u03bf\u03bd by _elementa Judaica_; while Luther everywhere\n      renders the word honestly and correctly by \u201c_Welt_\u201d (world).\n\n   54 _Unusquisque tantum juris habet, quantum potenti\u00e2 valet_ (_Tract.\n      pol._, c. 2 \u00a7 8). _Fides alicui data tamdiu rata manet, quamdiu\n      ejus, qui fidem dedit, non mutatur voluntas_ (_Ibid._, \u00a7 12).\n      _Uniuscujusque jus potenti\u00e2 ejus definetur_ (_Eth._ iv., _pr._ 37,\n      _schol._ 1.) Especially chap. 16 of the _Tractatus theologico\u2010\n      politicus_ is the true compendium of the immorality of Spinoza\u2019s\n      philosophy.\n\n   55 [In preparing this Index Frauenst\u00e4dt\u2019s _Schopenhauer\u2010Lexikon_ has\n      been freely used.\u2014_Trs._]","title":"The World as Will and Idea (Vol. 3 of 3)","tradition":"philosophy-ethics","translated_text":null,"word_count":174844}