{"collection":"philosophy-ethics","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_43719/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_43719","id":"gutenberg_43719","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/43719","summary":null,"tags":["Category: Philosophy & Ethics","Life","Ontology"],"text":"LIFE'S BASIS AND LIFE'S IDEAL\n\n\n\n\n BY THE SAME AUTHOR\n\n THE MEANING AND VALUE OF LIFE\n\n Translated by W. R. BOYCE GIBSON\n Crown 8vo, cloth, price 3s. 6d. net.\n\n * * * * *\n\n And by W. R. BOYCE GIBSON\n\n RUDOLF EUCKEN'S PHILOSOPHY OF LIFE\n\n Second Edition, crown 8vo, cloth, price 3s. 6d. net.\n\n * * * * *\n\n A. AND C. BLACK, 4 SOHO SQUARE, LONDON, W.\n\n\n\n\n AGENTS:\n\n\n AMERICA THE MACMILLAN COMPANY\n 64 & 66 FIFTH AVENUE, NEW YORK\n\n AUSTRALASIA OXFORD UNIVERSITY PRESS\n 205 FLINDERS LANE, MELBOURNE\n\n CANADA THE MACMILLAN COMPANY OF CANADA, LTD.\n ST. MARTIN'S HOUSE, 70 BOND STREET, TORONTO\n\n INDIA MACMILLAN & COMPANY, LTD.\n MACMILLAN BUILDING, BOMBAY\n 309 BOW BAZAAR STREET, CALCUTTA\n\n\n\n\n LIFE'S BASIS AND LIFE'S IDEAL\n\n THE FUNDAMENTALS OF A NEW PHILOSOPHY OF LIFE\n\n BY\n\n RUDOLF EUCKEN\n PROFESSOR OF PHILOSOPHY IN THE UNIVERSITY OF JENA\n\n TRANSLATED, WITH INTRODUCTORY NOTE\n\n BY\n\n ALBAN G. WIDGERY\n FORMERLY SCHOLAR OF ST. CATHARINE'S COLLEGE, AND BURNEY STUDENT,\n CAMBRIDGE, AND MEMBER OF THE UNIVERSITY OF JENA\n\n [Illustration]\n\n LONDON\n ADAM AND CHARLES BLACK\n 1912\n\n\n _First published December 1911_\n _Second and Revised Edition, February 1912_\n\n\n\n\nCONTENTS\n\n\n PAGE\n TRANSLATOR'S INTRODUCTORY NOTE vii\n\n AUTHOR'S PREFACE xxi\n\n I. INTRODUCTORY: THE PHILOSOPHIES OF LIFE IN THE PRESENT DAY 1\n\n PRELIMINARY REMARKS 3\n\n I. STATEMENT AND CRITICISM OF INDIVIDUAL SYSTEMS OF LIFE 6\n (a) The Older Systems 6\n 1. The Religious System 6\n 2. The System of Immanent Idealism 15\n (b) The Newer Systems 22\n 1. The Naturalistic System 24\n 2. The Socialistic System 41\n 3. The System of \u00c6sthetic Individualism 61\n\n II. Consideration of the Situation as a Whole, and\n Preliminaries for Further Investigation 81\n (a) The Nature of the New as a Whole and its Relation to\n the Old 81\n (b) The Condition of the Present 86\n (c) The Form of the Problem 92\n\n II. THE OUTLINE OF A NEW PHILOSOPHY OF LIFE 99\n INTRODUCTORY REMARKS AND CONSIDERATIONS 101\n\n I. THE MAIN THESIS 110\n (a) The Ascent to the Main Thesis 110\n 1. Man as a Being of Nature 110\n 2. The Growth of Man beyond Nature 113\n 3. The Inner Contradiction of the New Life 134\n (b) The Development of the Main Thesis 144\n 1. The Main Thesis and the Possibility of a New\n System of Life 144\n (a) _The Development of the Spiritual Life to\n Independence_ 144\n (b) _The Demands of a New System of Life_ 150\n (c) _The Spiritual Basis of the System of Life_ 152\n (d) _Human Existence_ 161\n (e) _Results and Prospects_ 166\n 2. The Transformation and the Elevation of Human\n Life 168\n (a) _Aims and Ways_ 168\n (b) _The Nature of Freedom_ 174\n (c) _The Beginnings of the Independent Spiritual\n Life_ 183\n (d) _The Transcending of Division_ 187\n i. _The Spiritual Conception of History_ 188\n ii. _The Spiritual Conception of Society_ 196\n (e) _The Elevation of Life above Division_ 201\n\n II. THE MORE DETAILED FORM OF OUR SPIRITUAL LIFE 216\n (a) The Problem of Truth and Reality 216\n (b) Man and the World 226\n (c) The Movement of the Spiritual Life in Man 233\n (d) The Emergence of a New Type of Life 240\n 1. _Life's Attainment of Greatness_ 240\n 2. _The Increase of Movement_ 247\n 3. _The Gain of Stability_ 251\n (e) Activism, a Profession of Faith 255\n\n III. THE SPIRITUAL LIFE IN MAN IN CONFLICT AND IN VICTORY 262\n (a) Doubt and Prostration 262\n (b) Consideration and Demand 267\n (c) The Victory 273\n\n III. APPLICATION TO THE PRESENT: CONSEQUENCES AND REQUIREMENTS 287\n\n _Introductory Considerations_ 289\n I. REQUIREMENTS FOR THE FORM OF LIFE AS A WHOLE 298\n (a) The Character of Culture 298\n (b) The Organisation of the Work of Culture 315\n\n II. THE FORM OF THE INDIVIDUAL DEPARTMENTS 322\n _Preliminary Remarks_ 322\n (a) Religion, Morality, Education 324\n 1. Religion 324\n 2. Morality 335\n 3. Education and Instruction 343\n (b) Science and Philosophy 345\n (c) Art and Literature 354\n (d) Social and Political Life 358\n (e) The Life of the Individual 369\n\n CONCLUSION 373\n\n INDEX 375\n\n\n\n\nTRANSLATOR'S INTRODUCTORY NOTE\n\n\nWith the consent of the author the title \"Life's Basis and Life's Ideal\"\nhas been adopted for this translation of \"Die Grundlinien einer neuen\nLebensanschauung,\" with the hope that thereby the purpose of the work\nwill be more directly indicated than by a literal translation of the\nGerman title. It is hoped, further, that the title adopted will make an\nappeal to the general reading public. To make such an appeal is not the\ndesire of every writer on philosophical subjects: but in the present\ninstance it is the case. The author feels that he has a message for the\npresent time, and one that is vital to the true interests of all. It has\nbeen remarked, and the present writer would be among the first to\nacknowledge the truth of the statement, that the voice is that of a\nprophet in the sense of an ethical teacher, rather than that of a\nphilosopher in the more technical sense. Nevertheless, the use of a\nphilosophical terminology, and the constant implicit reference to the\nresults of philosophical endeavour in the past and present, combined\nwith the peculiarities of the author's own views, make it difficult to\nunderstand his message. To non-philosophical readers who are not already\nacquainted with the more popular works which have been translated under\nthe titles of \"Christianity and the New Idealism,\" \"The Life of the\nSpirit,\" and \"The Meaning and Value of Life,\" the present work will\nappear of considerable difficulty. Difficulty in such a work is,\nhowever, by no means necessarily an evil, for it may compel more careful\nreading and thought. The present work is the latest and best general\nstatement, by the author, of his philosophical position. By some\nreference here to certain ideas, principles, and aims of the\nphilosophy, the attention of the reader may be drawn to those aspects\nwhich, in personal contact with the author, one comes to feel are\nregarded by him as of most importance. It is not invariably so, but in\nthis case to know the man is to gain immensely in the power to\nunderstand and appreciate the message. He inspires us with his\nconfidence and enthusiasm, even when we have doubts as to the adequacy\nof his philosophical creed. His philosophy is, indeed, the outcome of an\nattitude of life. To know the man is to understand more fully than from\nall his written works what he means when he speaks of the development of\n_personality_ and _spiritual individuality_. Whatever may be the value\nof what is written about Professor Eucken's position, no substitute can\nbe found for reading his own words in as many of his different\nexpositions as possible.\n\nShould anyone seek in this work for a systematic discussion of\nphilosophical problems on the lines of traditional Rationalism, which,\nthough often assumed to be dead, still asserts a strong influence upon\nus, he will not only look in vain but will also lose much that is of\nvalue in that which is offered. The aim of the philosophy is not to\ndiscuss the basis and ideal of thought, but to probe to the depth of\nlife in all its complexity, and to advance to an all-inclusive ideal.\nThe starting-point for us all is life as we experience it, not an\napparent ultimate, such as the _cogito ergo sum_ of Descartes, the _I\nought_ of Kant, or the _pure being_ of Hegel. At the outset, therefore,\nit is necessary to note the nature of the relation between philosophy\nand life. Philosophy arises within life as an expression of its nature\nand general import. Life may assume various forms, may be, that is, of\ndifferent types; with different individuals and societies it is\norganised in divers ways. Life so organised, having certain definite\ntendencies, is called by Professor Eucken a _system of life_. In the\nphilosophies of life which arise in these types or systems of life, life\nbecomes more explicitly conscious of its own nature. Further, a\nphilosophy of life is also a means of justification and defence of one\nsystem of life in opposition to other systems. Life as experienced, as\norganised in some way, is prior to any definite intellectual or\nconceptual expression of it. On the other hand a type of life may be\ninfluenced and modified by changes in the accepted philosophy of life,\nor by the adoption of a new philosophy. A philosophy, therefore, is to\nbe judged by the system of life it represents and by its spiritual\nfruitfulness. As the roots of the differences between philosophies are\nin the systems of life from which the philosophies arise, the conflict\nis primarily not between theories, but between systems of life. The\nground of the author's general appeal thus becomes apparent. The problem\nis a vital one; in one form or another, at one time or another, everyone\nis faced with it: how shall I mould my life? And it is here that we must\ninsist upon the importance of Professor Eucken's contention that we have\nto make our decision for one system of life as a whole, and thus for one\nphilosophy of life as a whole, as against other systems and other\nphilosophies taken as wholes.\n\nLife as experienced is a process, a growth; and in this growth it\noversteps the bounds of the philosophy in which at an earlier stage it\nexpressed itself, and according to which it strove to fashion itself.\nThe need for a new philosophy is then felt. Generally, the need is for a\nphilosophy more comprehensive and more clearly defined than any of the\nprevious philosophies. Now, Professor Eucken contends that none of the\nphilosophies of life which are common among us in the present time are\nadequate to represent and guide our life at this stage of its\ndevelopment. He calls us to turn for a few moments from the rush and\nturmoil of modern life to \"come and reason together\" as to life's basis\nand ideal. In justification of his view, and in accordance with his own\nprinciple that we must start with life as we experience it, he considers\nin the first place the common philosophies of life of the present time\nin relation to the systems of life from which they spring. Few will\ndisagree with his negative view that Religion--at least as\necclesiastically presented--Immanent Idealism, Naturalism, Socialism,\nand Individualism involve limitations, and sometimes unjustifiable\ntendencies and claims, and are inadequate to satisfy the age. His next\nand chief endeavour is to indicate the direction in which a new\nphilosophy is to be sought, and also tentatively to sketch the outlines\nof such a philosophy. In the nature of the case--as life is a\nprocess--no such philosophy can be regarded as complete. It can and\nshould strive to take up into itself all that is of value in the\ndiscarded philosophies. Any attempt to outline a \"new\" philosophy will\nbe judged by how far, with the incompleteness on all hands, it takes the\ndifferent threads of life, and blending them into a unity aids their\ngrowth individually and as a whole.\n\nBrief reference maybe made here to an attitude, common in the present\ntime especially among English-speaking peoples, which the author does\nnot explicitly mention. I mean the attitude of Agnosticism. This, he\nwould contend and it would seem rightly, is in the main theoretical and\ndoes not, as such, correspond to or represent a system of life. The\nagnostic's system of life is formed of aspects of the systems discussed,\nwith a strong tendency to Naturalism. The case of Huxley, who coined the\nterm _Agnosticism_, is an excellent example: notwithstanding his\nfrequently insisting with considerable force upon truths essentially\nidealistic, no one can doubt the predominant naturalistic tendency of\nhis thought. As a rule the adoption of the attitude of Agnosticism is an\nattempt, as Dr. Ward has so clearly and forcibly argued in his\n\"Naturalism and Agnosticism,\"[1] to escape from the difficulties of\nNaturalism, which in the end it betrays. Agnosticism is, in fact, only\nan assumed absence of a theory of life. Professor Eucken would insist\nthat the instability of the position is intolerable in actual life.\nLife's demand for unification, for consciousness of a meaning and a\nvalue, drives us beyond it. \"Mere research,\" he writes, p. 272, \"can\ntolerate a state of hesitation between affirmation and negation; it must\noften refrain from a decision in the case of special problems. Life,\nhowever, cannot endure any such intermediary position; for life, such\nhesitation in arriving at a decision must result in complete stagnation,\nand this would help the mere negation to victory.\"\n\nThe great objection to all the systems of life mentioned is that they\nare too narrow, and in some aspects superficial. The new system must\nunite comprehensiveness with depth. The insufficiency of intellectualism\nis now generally recognised: the desire of the age is to do justice to\nthe content of experience. Though the new system of life is to include\nall that is of value of earlier systems, it is by no means an\neclecticism, for it has its integrating principle. This we shall best\nsee by considering the method and the result of the philosophy. Life as\nexperienced has already been referred to as the starting-point. To\nwhatever extent we may seem, on the surface of experience, to be under\nthe antithesis of subject and object, when we probe deeper we recognise\nthat both are within life: they are a duality in unity. Here again\nreference may be made to the above-mentioned work[2] of Dr. Ward, in\nwhich probably the best exposition in English of this same truth is to\nbe found. Life as experienced is not simply the empirical states of\nconsciousness: its basis lies deeper. The method of the philosophy is in\nconsequence described as _no\u00f6logical_ in distinction from the\n_psychological_ method, which treats of man out of relation to a world,\nand ends with the examination of psychical states; and from the\n_cosmological_ method, which treats the world out of relation to man and\naims chiefly at comprehension in universals of thought. Expressed in\nanother way, life is fundamentally spiritual. Self-consciousness is the\nunifying principle: it is only by relation to life as self-conscious\nthat we can predicate meaning or value. All that is regarded as true and\nvaluable in all the above-mentioned systems presupposes this relation.\nThe self-conscious life is not to be confused with the subjective life\nof the \"mere\" individual. In fact, there is no \"mere\" individual, for in\nall there are tendencies which transcend the limits of individual\nexperience. For example, life includes the relation of man and world;\nand the life of society is more than a mere sum of the lives of the\nindividuals. Perhaps a more correct way to state the author's position\nis to say that the individual shares the self-conscious, or, otherwise\nexpressed, the spiritual life which transcends nature, the individual,\nand society. This world-pervading and world-transcending self-conscious\nlife--_the Independent Spiritual Life_--may be regarded as an absolute\nor universal life. The pursuit of the ideals of truth, goodness, and\nbeauty carries us far beyond considerations of the welfare of the\nindividual, or the society, or even humanity as a whole. In our\nactivities we often attain something quite different from and far better\nthan that at which we aim. Nevertheless, unless truth, goodness, beauty,\nand all tendencies leading to them are self-consciously experienced they\nhave neither meaning nor value: viewed universally, they presuppose the\nIndependent Spiritual Life. The highest development of the spiritual\nlife known to us is personality, our \"being-for-self,\" which is not to\nbe identified with subjective individuality. We are not personalities to\nbegin with, but have the potentiality to become such through our own\neffort. Personality is our highest ideal: in it, as self-conscious\nexperience all other values for us are included. The author calls us,\ntherefore, from that excessive occupation with the environment in which\nwe forget ourselves, to spiritual concentration and the pursuit of\nspiritual ideals. The spirit of his message may be expressed in words\nfamiliar to all: \"What shall it profit a man if he gain the whole world\nand lose his own soul.\" Remembering that life is fundamentally\nself-conscious or spiritual, it may be said that life's basis and life's\nideal is life itself--life completely self-conscious and following out\nits own necessities. The basis of man's life is the Independent\nSpiritual Life which is appropriated but not created by him in his\nstriving for a comprehensive and harmonious personality. The ideal of\nman's life is such a personality. The more man \"loses his life\" in the\npursuit of the ideals of truth, goodness, and beauty, the more surely\nwill he \"save it,\" the more comprehensive, harmonious, and spiritual in\nnature will he become. Then he will realise himself as a personality,\nand become conscious of his unity with the Independent Spiritual Life.\nThe dominant Idealism of this philosophy of life is evident: but the\nmeanings of truth, goodness, and beauty are different from what they\nappear to be in many of the older presentations of Idealism. Truth,\ngoodness and beauty are not abstract ideals but concrete experiences.\nThe present writer has long been of the opinion that much of\ncontemporary idealistic philosophy, including that of Professor Eucken,\nmight be better termed _Spiritualism_ than _Idealism_.\n\nIf life as experienced is a process, it is not difficult to understand\nthat importance should be attributed to history. In the author's\nexposition not only is constant reference made to historical\ndevelopment, but the nature of history is made a definite subject of\ndiscussion. I would call attention to this aspect of the author's work:\nit appears a means of doing more justice to the content of experience\nthan is done in most forms of Idealism. On the one hand a Rationalism\nwhich tends to shut out the historical as transient and merely\nappearance is avoided, and on the other a Historical Relativism which\ndenies all stability and permanence is strenuously opposed. While the\nabsolute and eternal--the Independent Spiritual Life--is the\npresupposition of the temporal manifestation of the spiritual life in\nman, for man the historical is real. The form of our spiritual life is\ndue to our own acts and decisions. It is in this connection that the\nfundamental nature of our spiritual effort may best be seen. The\nauthor's voice is that of a prophet in so far as his whole exposition is\npresented as an endeavour to arouse men from their apathy and from the\npursuit of what they themselves know to be unsatisfying ideals. The\nimportance attached to spiritual effort in his philosophy leads\nProfessor Eucken to adopt the term \"_Activism_\" as a definite\nphilosophical badge. The activistic note is evident throughout, much\nmore so perhaps in the present volume than in those which have preceded\nit. The significance of this emphasis is most clear in its bearing upon\nour relation to the past and the present. The present is neither to be\ndominated by the past nor sacrificed to the future, but the past is to\nbe appropriated by our activity in the present, and the present, while\npossessing reality and value in itself, looks forward to the future.\nHistorical content, spiritual endeavour in past, present, and future,\nmust be unified by a common task. The past is ours only so far as we\nappropriate it. Spiritual inheritance is not the same as natural\ninheritance. We may by our spiritual effort adopt or reject ideas or a\nsystem of life which have come to us from the past. The character which\nthe past will have for us will depend on our present spiritual\ncondition. All spiritual progress involves a break with the past. In the\nsame way we may take up an attitude of antagonism to the confusions\nwhich exist in modern life, and we may follow a new course. All this is\nnot to deny the value of history in itself and for our present efforts:\nthe reverse of such a denial is nearer the truth. For if we realise the\ndepths and independence of our own life we are not only in a position to\nunderstand and appreciate the movement of history, but, by the nature of\nlife, we are then driven beyond the mere present. The past relives with\na new spiritual meaning in the consciousness that makes it its own.\nHistory is more than a succession of facts; it must be revalued as a\npresent experience. Life is not subjectively individual, and to realise\nit we must find our place in universal tendencies which are working\nthemselves out in history. The content of history cannot be pressed into\nthe narrow scheme of moral effort and attainment, as that is usually\nconceived, but in it all spheres of life assert their independent right.\nHistory is not an evolution of categories, but a conflict of concrete\nrealities, of systems of life, of personalities. Though the great man\ncannot be understood out of relation to his time, he is not simply a\nproduct of the social environment. The great man strives to raise the\ntime to his own level. It may be said that in order adequately to\nappreciate the author's position in regard to history the book\ntranslated into English under the title of \"The Problem of Human Life\nas viewed by the Great Thinkers from Plato to the Present Time\" should\nbe read in the light of the general principles of his philosophy. The\nreality of evil and of antitheses in life are fully acknowledged; but by\nthe spiritual life being thereby called to assert its independence and\nto strive to overcome them they may be a factor leading to good. Evil,\nso regarded, is not explained away, but the solution is essentially a\npractical one. The theoretical problem of evil remains an enigma to us.\nThe author's message is positive, not negative: it is a call to pursue\ndefinite positive aims rather than to eradicate painful experiences.\n\"Not suffering, but spiritual destitution is man's worst enemy\" (p.\n314).\n\nIt has been said with, it would seem, a large amount of truth, that the\nphilosophy of Hegel has been most fruitfully studied on English soil.\nThere is reason to believe that it will be somewhat the same in the case\nof Professor Eucken's philosophy. His debts to Kant and Hegel are\nobvious, but it is interesting to notice that the points in which he\nmore especially diverges from Hegelianism are largely the same as have\nbeen emphasised in England. The importance he attaches to personality\nand ethical activity, his insistence upon human endeavour as a\ndetermining factor in reality, and his emphasis on the dialectic as\nbeing not one of categories but of concrete realities, are in accord\nwith much of the best of recent English philosophical thought. In the\npresent work there is much of value for those who--while dissenting from\nsuch perversions as Pragmatism--hold what is commonly termed a \"Personal\nIdealism.\" The position of our author is not the same as that of English\nPersonal Idealism, nevertheless his work aids it in many ways, and\nespecially in its insistence upon the distinction between personality\nand subjective individuality. A comparison of some of the views of the\nthree philosophical writers who have been most discussed in our\ntime--the late Professor James, M. Bergson, and our author--would be of\ninterest. To enter upon a systematic and exhaustive comparison here is\nfar from my intention, but a few points may be suggested. The modes of\nexposition, which in a greater or less degree indicate the respective\nmethods, manifest striking contrasts: in many respects the positions of\nM. Bergson and Professor Eucken appear totally dissimilar. The\nacquaintance with natural science, and the constant reference to its\ndata, that we find in the works of M. Bergson, are not found in those of\nour author. Their place is taken, however, by what some will regard as\nmore interesting, and even more important, an acquaintance with the\npresent condition of human life, and also a constant reference to\nhistory. Common to these writers is a reaction against formalism and\nintellectualism, and in one form or another there is in their writings a\nstrong element of empiricism. Freedom in some sense is insisted upon by\nall; though so far as we may judge from their published expositions\nthere seem to be considerable differences of view in this matter.\nTogether with this assertion of the reality of Freedom, both M. Bergson\nand our author definitely acknowledge the reality of Necessity and\nrecognise the importance of struggle in development. Neither writer\nclaims that we can gain more than the knowledge of a direction in which\nthe solution of the problem may be sought. Our author himself might\nquite well have said, though with application in the main to different\nclasses of facts, what M. Bergson has said: \"It seems to me that in a\ngreat number of different fields there is a great number of collections\nof facts, each of which, considered apart, gives us a direction in which\nthe answer to the problem may be sought--a direction only. But it is a\ngreat thing to have even a direction, and still more to have several\ndirections, for at the precise point where these directions converge\nmight be found the solution we are seeking. What we possess meanwhile\nare lines of facts.[3]...\" \"But what is this new reality,\" writes\nProfessor Eucken (p. 135), \"and this whole to which the course of the\nmovement trends? The more we reflect over the question the more strongly\nwe feel that it is a direction rather than a conclusion that is offered\nto us in this matter....\" There is another passage from M. Bergson the\nquotation of which in the present context is justified by its harmony\nwith so much that Professor Eucken himself says with regard to man's\nideal of life: \"If, then, in every province, the triumph of life is\nexpressed by creation, ought we not to think that the ultimate reason of\nhuman life is a creation which, in distinction from that of the artist\nor the man of science, can be pursued at every moment and by all men\nalike; I mean the creation of self by self, the continual enrichment of\npersonality by elements which it does not draw from outside, but causes\nto spring forth from itself?\"[4] Whether in the works of the late\nProfessor James there is evidence of a lurking desire for an Absolute\nmay be left undiscussed. M. Bergson certainly gives more than a hint of\nsomething like an Absolute. Of the absolutist (not rationalistic)\ntendency in the philosophy of our author there can be no doubt.\nNotwithstanding the antagonism to intellectualism shown in this\nphilosophy, the influence of Hegel seems evident in its absolutist\ntendency. Dr. Ward has justly said that, \"with Hegel, the Absolute seems\nat one time to be a perfect Self with no hint of aught beside or beyond\nits own completed self-consciousness, and at another not to be a self at\nall, but only the absolutely spiritual--art, religion, and\nphilosophy--the over-individual ends, as they are sometimes called,\nwhich become realised in subjective spirits: not self-conscious Spirit,\nbut simply the impersonal Spirit in all spirits.\"[5] How far a\ncorresponding criticism is applicable to the ideas of the Independent\nSpiritual Life, and the spiritual life in humanity and the world, in the\npresent philosophy, its readers must be left to decide.\n\nThe relation of philosophy to life as Professor Eucken conceives it may\njustify him in treating primarily of what may be called in a special\nsense the problems of life. The difficulty of the problems of the theory\nof knowledge no one will deny, though many are impatient of\nconsiderations of them. In any general appeal such as we have to do with\nin this work it is almost impossible to deal seriously with them. Still\nthe problems of the theory of knowledge force themselves upon us, and\nwill not be thrust on one side. The late Professor James did his best to\nleave us in no doubt as to his position in this matter: we have more\nthan a glimpse of the attitudes of M. Bergson and Professor Eucken. We\nawait, however, as likely to aid us in a fuller understanding and\nestimate of the philosophy, the volume the author has promised us on the\ntheory of knowledge. Whatever the points of similarity may be in the\nviews of those mentioned, we cannot fail to note the differences--to\nsome of these in the case of Pragmatism the author has himself called\nour attention; further, we cannot mistake the dominant Idealism of the\nphilosophy of life here presented to us. One word must be said as to the\nauthor's attitude towards Mysticism; an attitude that has not always\nbeen understood. The Mysticism he opposes is of the type that is\nvirtually the negation of the Activism which is to him fundamental. But\nwhen that is recognised, the careful reader cannot fail to see that,\nultimately, the philosophy is essentially mystical.\n\nAs I understand it, the suggestion that our author's philosophy would\nform a rallying-point for Idealists of various kinds is a tribute to its\nunity and comprehensiveness, of which there can be no doubt. Roughly, we\nmay take up one of two attitudes to the work of a philosopher. We may\naccept his general point of view, his main principles, in a word his\n\"system,\" however tentative, and modify it in detail. On the other hand\nwe may reject his main position, and yet find much to accept in his\nworking out of various aspects of detail, and we may incorporate this in\nsome other general system. It is not for me to state here the attitude I\ntake towards, or the difficulties I feel in, the philosophy; I think\nthat there will be few who will not gain much from the inspiration and\noriginality which are shown by the author. For his own philosophy of\nlife he seeks no other treatment than that which he has meted to others:\na sincere endeavour to understand its basis and its ideal. His hope is\nthat however much its limitations may be pointed out, the truth in it\nmay be acknowledged and appropriated, if possible in a higher view. The\nacquisition of a higher view would cause no one more real joy than\nProfessor Eucken.\n\nI have to thank the author for his personal kindness in the discussion\nof some difficult points and in the revision of a portion of the proof\nsheets. At his suggestion or with his consent a number of small\nalterations, as, for example, in the titles of sections, have been made\nfrom the present German text. Owing to an accident, the time for the\npreparation of this translation was unfortunately curtailed: I should be\nindebted for any suggestions for its improvement. I am indebted to the\nRev. Felix Holt, B.A., for reading through the whole in manuscript and\nmaking many valuable suggestions. For all defect and error I alone am\nresponsible.\n\n ALBAN G. WIDGERY\n\n CAMBRIDGE, _October 1911_\n\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n [1] \"Naturalism and Agnosticism.\" 3rd Edition, 1906. Vols. I. and II.\n A. & C. Black.\n\n [2] _Ibid._ Vol. II. Lects. xiv.-xx.\n\n [3] _Hibbert Journal_, October 1911: p. 26.\n\n [4] _Ibid._ p. 42.\n\n [5] \"The Realm of Ends; or, Pluralism and Theism\" (1911), p. 46.\n\n\nNOTE TO SECOND EDITION\n\nI have taken the opportunity given by reprinting to revise the whole. I\nhave made a number of alterations rendering the author's meaning more\nclear. My thanks are again due to Mr. Holt for his help.\n\n ALBAN G. WIDGERY\n\n CAVERSWALL, STOKE-ON-TRENT,\n _January 1912_\n\n\n\n\nAUTHOR'S PREFACE\n\n\nWe may hope for a friendly reception of our investigation only by those\nwho acknowledge that that which occupies us here is a real problem. It\nis hardly open to dispute that life in the present time displays a\nserious incongruity between an incalculably rich and fruitful activity\nwith regard to the material, and complete uncertainty and destitution in\nrespect of the spiritual, side of life. Attempt after attempt is made to\ndeliver us from this state of perplexity, and to give more soul and\nunity to a culture which outwardly is so imposing. But in the main these\nattempts are far too irresolute in their advance from superficiality to\ndepth, and from individual appearances to the whole: in their innermost\nnature they are under the influence of the temporary conditions beyond\nwhich they wish to lead us. In truth, we cannot make an advance in\nrelation to our life as a whole unless we win a new basis for it. This,\nhowever, we cannot do without raising the problem of our relation to\nreality, and, if it is in any way possible, moulding this relationship\nin a new way: further, we can be of service in the satisfaction of the\nneeds of the time only when we gain an independence of it and a\nsuperiority to it.\n\nHere, therefore, so far as the realm of conviction is concerned, we have\na task for philosophy. The confusion that reigns, however, makes the way\ndifficult for philosophy also; and sets insuperable limits to its power.\nWe do not meet in immediate experience with facts upon which a new type\nof life might be based: much toil and trouble are necessary to arrive at\nthat, which, when it is once attained, may seem to be simple and easy.\nHe who finds the problem too complex, and shirks to expend the necessary\neffort, can do nothing else than resign himself submissively to the\nprevailing confusion. To-day we are unable at first to sketch more than\nthe outlines and to indicate fundamentals: we must be quite sure of the\nbasis and the main tendency of life if we would undertake the\nconstruction of systems; and yet it is just these things which are\nto-day the subject of agitation and conflict. Not for a moment do we\ndoubt the imperfection of our own attempt; we can but hope that others\nwill take up and pursue the matter further.\n\nNotwithstanding these limitations and this trouble, an urgent inner\nnecessity compels us to recognise that there can be no enduring life of\ngenuine culture unless humanity is inwardly united by common aims. More\nand more clearly this main question is seen to be involved in all the\nparticular questions of the time; more and more does it become evident\nto us that our achievement in individual matters can be but\ninsignificant, if life as a whole is in a state of stagnation and\nexhaustion. Though some who may already have taken up a definite course,\nor who in their attention to work in some special sphere have lost all\nsense for the whole, may refuse to consider the matter, yet wherever\nlife is still flowing, and where fresh impulse resists the tendency to\ndivision which deprives it of all soul, to deal with the problem will be\nfelt to be a necessity. Above all, therefore, we trust in the young,\nwho, among all cultured nations, are striving for a deeper and nobler\nlife. The more successful this striving, the sooner shall we advance\nfrom a state of confusion to one of order and clearness, from a realm of\nillusions to the kingdom of truth, and in face of the chaotic whirl of\nappearances we shall attain stability within ourselves.\n\n RUDOLF EUCKEN\n\n JENA, _Christmas 1906_\n\n\n\n\nI\n\nINTRODUCTORY\n\nTHE PHILOSOPHIES OF LIFE IN THE PRESENT DAY\n\nPRELIMINARY REMARKS\n\n\nHe who strives after a new philosophy of life confesses himself thereby\nto be of the conviction that the philosophies of the present no longer\nsatisfy mankind; and so we must begin by giving reasons for sharing this\nconviction. In doing this we hope to be able to take a positive survey\nof the present situation as a whole, and also to gain a firm\nstarting-point for the course in which the new is to be sought, and not\nsimply to remain fixed in a mere negative attitude. A precise statement\nof the question is the first condition for a correct answer; to satisfy\nthis requirement is the chief concern of the first part of our treatise.\n\nPhilosophies of life, representations of human life as a whole, surround\nus to-day in abundance and court our adherence. The fusion of rich\nhistorical development with active reflection gives occasion to the most\ndiverse combinations and makes it easy for the individual to project a\nrepresentation corresponding to his circumstances and his mood. Thus,\nto-day, the philosophies of life of individuals whirl together in\nchaotic confusion, gain and lose the passing favour, displace one\nanother, and themselves change kaleidoscopically. It is not the concern\nof philosophy to occupy itself more closely with opinions so accidental\nand so fleeting.\n\nThere are, however, philosophies of life of another kind, conceptions of\nlife, which unite and dominate large numbers of people, hold up a common\nideal for their activity, and constitute a power in the life of\nuniversal history. These philosophies of life are rooted in particular\nconcrete forms of life, in actual combinations of working and striving,\nwhich with dominating power surround the individual and point out his\ncourse. With such ascendancy they may seem to him to be unassailable and\na matter of natural necessity; in reality they are a product of the\nindustry of universal history, and from this point of view appear merely\nas attempts to comprehend the boundless stream of life and to win a\ncharacter for our otherwise indefinite existence. For at first we stand\ndefenceless and helpless in face of the wealth of impressions and\nsuggestions which throng upon us and draw us in opposite directions.\nOnly in one way are we able to prevail: life must concentrate and\nacquire a controlling centre within itself, and from that begin a\nprocess of counteraction. We lack distinction of centre and environment;\nwe need an inner aspiration, an aspiration which seeks to draw the whole\nof existence to itself and to mould it in its own particular way. This,\nhowever, is impossible, unless at the same time a philosophy of life, a\nprofession of faith as to the nature of the whole, a justification of\nour undertaking, is evolved. A philosophy of life established in this\nmanner will be incomparably more powerful, and fuller in content, than\nthe mere foam on the surface of time.\n\nNevertheless, with all its advantages, such a philosophy of life, like\nthe corresponding system of life itself, is not ultimate truth: it\nremains an attempt, a problem which, ever anew, divides men into\nopposing camps. For the experience of history teaches us that the effort\nafter concentration and an inner synthesis of life does not follow one\nclear, direct course throughout, but that different possibilities offer\nthemselves and, in course of time, struggle upwards to reality.\nDifferent systems thus advance by the side of and in opposition to one\nanother, each making the claim to undivided supremacy, to a superiority\nover all others. Philosophies of life now become means and instruments\nto justify and to establish such claims. They must enter into the\nseverest conflict one with another, and the strife keeps up a powerful\ntension and pressure because here, by means of the ideas, tendencies of\nlife compete with one another; because not mere representations of\nreality but realities themselves struggle together. It is manifest from\nthe existence of these last problems that we do not grow up in a\nfinished world, but have first to form and build up our world. We are\nconcerned not merely with interpreting a given reality, but first of all\nwith winning the true, primary, and all-comprehensive reality. By this\nour life is made uncertain and laborious, but it is raised at the same\ntime to an inner freedom and a more genuine independence.\n\nAnd now for the first time we see in its true light the fact that its\nown views of life can become inadequate to an age. For the fact that an\nage lacks an inner unity, that cogent reasons drive it beyond the extant\nsyntheses, is now a sign that it is not clear and certain as to its own\nlife. To open up a way for a new synthesis, to organise life more\nadequately, becomes the most pressing of all demands, the question of\nquestions. Even the most cautious and most subtle reflection will not\nlead us far in this matter; all hope of success depends upon our life\ncontaining greater depths, which hitherto have not been fully grasped,\nand more especially upon a transcendent unity present in it, which\nhitherto has not come to complete recognition. All thought and\nreflection is thus called to direct itself to the comprehension of such\ndepths and of such a unity. Everything here depends on facts; on facts,\nhowever, which do not come to us opportunely from without, but which\nreveal themselves only to the eye of the spirit and to aspiration.\n\n\n\n\nI. STATEMENT AND CRITICISM OF INDIVIDUAL SYSTEMS OF LIFE\n\n\nIt must be admitted that the first glance at the present conditions of\nlife shows a chaotic confusion. A more careful examination, however,\nsoon discloses a limited number of schemes of life, which, although they\nare often combined by individuals, are in their nature distinct and\nremain differentiated. We recognise five such systems of life: those of\nReligion and of Immanent Idealism on the one hand, and those of\nNaturalism, Socialism, and Individualism on the other hand. For, two\nmain groups may be clearly distinguished: one, older, which gives to\nlife an invisible world for its chief province; and one, newer, which\nplaces man entirely in the realm of sense experience; within these\ngroups, the ways again lead in diverse directions. Let us see what each\nof these organisations makes out of life; on what each supports itself;\nand what each accomplishes. Let us see also where each meets with\nopposition and in what it finds its limits; and this not according to\nour individual opinion, but according to the experiences of the age.\n\n\n(a) THE OLDER SYSTEMS\n\n1. THE RELIGIOUS SYSTEM\n\nThe religious organisation of life has influenced us in the past with\nespecial power. This has worked in the form of Christianity, which, as\nan ethical religion of redemption, occupies a thoroughly unique position\namong religions. As a religion it unites life to a supernatural world,\nand subjects our existence to its supremacy; as a religion of redemption\nit heightens the contrast between the two worlds to such a degree of\nharshness that a complete revolution becomes a necessity; as an ethical\nreligion it regards the spiritual life as a power of positive creation\nand self-determination, and insists upon a complete change of the heart.\nArising in an age of decay, an age weary of life, it confidently took up\nthe conflict against this faintness; it did not carry on this conflict,\nhowever, by a further development of the natural world and of culture,\nbut through the revelation of a supernatural order, of a new community\nof life, which, through the building up of an invisible Kingdom of\nGod--which wins a visible expression in the Church--becomes to man in\nfaith and hope the most certain presence. Christianity ratified an\naffirmation of life; still, it did not accomplish this immediately, but\nby the most fundamental and definite negation; and thus to a cursory\nconsideration it might appear to be a flight from the world. In reality,\nit unites the negation and the affirmation, flight from, and renewal of,\nthe world; the deepest feeling of, and the happiest deliverance from,\nguilt and suffering, and thereby gives to life a greater breadth as well\nas a ceaseless activity in search of its true self. Religion does not\nmean a special domain by the side of others; its intention is rather to\nbe the innermost soul and the supreme power of the whole life. Through\nits ideals and its standards it lends to the whole sphere of life a\ndistinctive character; it leads to a definite organisation of mankind\nand offers powerful opposition to all dissipation, all merely individual\ncaprice. It comes to the individual as a supreme power which brings to\nhim salvation and truth, shapes him for the highest ends, and connects\nhis thought and feeling with an invisible world.\n\nWith such an undertaking Christianity has exercised most deep-reaching\ninfluences on the course of history; in the first place it implanted a\nnew vitality in an exhausted humanity; then in the Middle Ages it worked\nto the education of a new race; and now that it has become mature it\nhas not ceased to exercise strong, though quieter, influences:\nconsidering all the facts, it appears to be the most powerful force in\nhistory.\n\nBut all the greatness of past achievement could not prevent a strong\nmovement from arising in the Modern Age against Christianity; a movement\nwhich still continues to increase in power and which undermines the\nposition of Christianity, where outwardly it still appears quite secure.\nIt is true that there never was a period when it was not opposed by\nindividuals, but through the lack of any spiritual import these isolated\noppositions had never combined so as to produce a united effect. An\neffect of this kind was first produced with the emergence of new systems\nof thought and new streams of life since the beginning of the\nseventeenth century; as long, however, as this movement was limited to\nthe cultured classes and left the masses untouched, that which existed\nin it as a menace did not produce its full effect. It was the conviction\nof Bayle, that the spirit of the Enlightenment would never permeate the\nmasses. In the nineteenth century this \"unexpected\" happened, and the\nnature of spiritual endeavour and the disposition of men join together\nin an assault upon Christianity; an assault which no one with insight\nwill call anything but dangerous.\n\nThe thing most evident and most talked of is the subversion of the old\nconception of the world; a conception which is usually associated with\nChristianity. This conception is less and less able to assert itself in\nface of the triumphant onward march of modern science. The\nrepresentation of nature, like that of human history, has been broadened\nimmeasurably and at the same time has acquired inner unity, law, and\norder; a direct intervention of a supernatural power is felt more and\nmore to be an intolerable derangement. The earth, hitherto the centre of\nthe whole and the chief platform upon which the destiny of the universe\nwas decided, sinks to a position of more correct proportion, and man is\nmuch more closely linked to nature and fitted into a common order. How\nthen can that which takes place in him decide what shall be the destiny\nof the whole?\n\nIf we would withdraw from this shattered conception of the world, as\nfrom a mere external matter, to the substance of Christianity, this\nsubstance must be much more clearly and much more forcibly present to us\nthan it really is. For, in this change we are concerned not simply with\nindividual phrases, but with the whole mode of thought. We have learnt\nto think far more causally and critically; we perceive the peculiarity\nof the historical circumstances in which Christianity arose, and, along\nwith this, become aware of a wide disparity from the circumstances of\nthe present. We question all historical tradition as to its grounds, and\nso overthrow the weight of authority; our thought has become throughout\nless na\u00efve and we strive to transcend the form of the immediate\nimpression. From this point of view it comes about quite easily that the\nreligious mode of thought appears to be a mere anthropomorphism, a\nchildlike, imaginative interpretation of the world, which, to an\nintelligence equipped with the clearness of objective consideration, can\npass only for a stage in evolution, which has once for all been\novercome. Such is the teaching of Positivism, and it is just in this\nreference to religion that its influence extends far beyond the limits\nof the positivistic school.\n\nThe change of thought would not be so far-reaching and so dangerous if\nit did not give expression to a change of life as a whole; but this is\nwhat it really does: the Modern Age through the whole course of its\ndevelopment sets a universal--a system--over against the religious\nsystem of life. That all departments of life should subordinate\nthemselves to Religion, that every activity has value only so far as it\neither directly or indirectly furthers Religion, appears to the Modern\nAge a much too narrow conception, and one which is a mischievous denial\nof the truth that these departments of life contain. So the different\nbranches of the spiritual life--for example, science and art, politics\nand economics--liberate themselves radically from the supremacy of\nReligion, and this is felt to be an incalculable gain in freedom and\nbreadth. Since, unimpeded, the new life increases in comprehensiveness,\nand draws the whole content of reality into itself, it seems to rest\nfirmly and securely in itself and to need no completion of any kind\nwhatever.\n\nReligion, however, must first seek a place in this new life. It finds\nthis place with greater difficulty, in that modern life, as it works out\nits own peculiar characteristics, ever more directly and ever more\nharshly opposes Christianity. The initial assumptions of the two are\nfundamentally different. Early Christianity spoke to a generation which\nhad become perplexed concerning the rationality of the universe and\nconcerning its own capacity; a generation which could attain to an\naffirmation of life only through the building up of a new world in\ncontrast to that of sense impression. The world, then disdained, has\nacquired in the Modern Age an ever-increasing power of attraction. New\npeoples and epochs have grown up, which have a feeling of power and wish\nto exert the force of their youth in work upon the surrounding world;\nthis world meets such a desire since it shows itself to be still in the\nmidst of change and full of problems. If formerly the world surrounded\nman as an unchangeable fate, it now proves to be capable of change and\nof upward development; man can work and strive to transform it into a\nkingdom of reason. The more that power and object unite in this, the\nmore victorious is the advance of work; the nearer the world is brought\nto man's inner life, the more does it become to him his true and only\nhome. The idea of immanence comes to have a magical sound; everything\nwhich oversteps the boundary marked out by the work of the world soon\ncomes to be regarded as a flight into a realm of shadows, into an\n\"other\" world. Satisfaction is obtained in life in grappling with\nrealities; in the display of masculine strength: while the religious\nattitude to life, with its waiting and hope, and its expectation of\nsupernatural aid, seems lifeless, feeble, and altogether lacking in\nspirit.\n\nAt the same time, all capacity for understanding the world in which\nChristianity set the soul of man disappears. That world was one of pure\ninwardness, a world in which the fundamental relation of life was that\nof the spiritual life to its own ideal conception, to absolute spirit; a\nworld in which the questions of character and of the determination of\nthe will were the chief problems. To earlier Christianity that world was\nanything but a mere \"other\" world; rather it constituted that which was\nnearest and most certain; the chief basis of life, from which the world\nof sense first received its truth and its value. But the more\nsignificant the world of sense becomes to man, and the more powerfully\nit draws his affections to itself, the more does the relation to this\nworld become the fundamental relation of life; the more does that pure\ninner world fade, and the more it appears to be something artificial,\nshadowy, something added as an afterthought; and the turning to it comes\nto be regarded as a flight into an \"other\" world. Christianity must\nnecessarily be alien and unintelligible to anyone who feels the world\nwhich was to Christianity the chief world to be a mere \"other\" world;\nfor him all the contentions of Christianity are inevitably distorted,\nand every element of joyful affirmation and heroic victory which it\ncontains obscured; the whole must present a miserable and morbid\npicture. Now that the centre of life has changed its position in\nrelation to the world, is it possible to avoid the consequences of a\ngrowing tendency to displace and dissolve Christianity?\n\nThe inner world was to Christianity essentially a realm of conviction\nand decision, a relation of will to will, of personality to personality:\nfree action, in power and love, in guilt and reconciliation, formed the\nessence of all events and gave to the world a soul. Only as ethical,\npersonal power did the spiritual life appear to find its own depth and\nto be able to govern the world.\n\nHere again the Modern Age takes a directly antagonistic course. Its work\nis considered most of all to lead beyond the subjectivity of man to the\ncontent and under the objective necessity of things. For we seem first\nto attain genuine truth when we place ourselves in the world of fact,\nreveal its relations, and take part in its movements; we have to follow\nthe objective and immanent necessities of things; to interpret every\nparticular case from the standpoint of these necessities and to\nharmonise our own conduct with them. Life seems to acquire greatness and\nuniversal significance only insomuch as the process comes before the\neffect, the law before freedom, fixed relations before the resolution\ninto individual occurrences. To the Modern Age, not only has nature been\ntransformed into a continuous causal chain, but in its spiritual\nactivity also the age forms great complexes, which, through the force of\nlogical necessity, are placed beyond the influence of all caprice, and\nof all the interests of the narrowly human. From the point of view of\nsuch an evolution the realm of ethical life appears to be a mere\nsubjective sphere; a tissue of human opinion and striving; something\nwhich falls outside of genuine reality and which can never be forced\ninto its structure. To continue in the position of early Christianity is\nlooked upon as a remaining at a lower level of life; conceptions such as\nfreedom of the will and moral judgment are regarded as childish\ndelusions which are the more decidedly rejected the more the new life\ndisplays its fundamental character. Again, with a transvaluation of all\nvalues, that which to Christianity was the highest in life and dominated\nthe whole is regarded as a mere accompanying appearance; indeed, a\ndanger to the energy and truth of life.\n\nHence a mode of life has arisen which not only regards the answers of\nChristianity with indifference, but does not even recognise its\nproblems; and this mode of life is attracting to itself more and more\nthe convictions and energies of mankind. Even now the antithesis which\nthe centuries have prepared is being forced with unmistakable clearness\ninto prominence. It was possible for us to deceive ourselves with regard\nto its implacability so long as a rationalistic and pantheistic way of\nthinking presented Christianity in the most general way, and tried to\ncomprehend its nature as something universal, and at the same time\nplaced nature and the universe in the transfiguring light of\nspeculative consideration. But, in the course of further experience,\nthat mode of thought has been severely shaken and appears more and more\nto be a mere aggregate of phrases; and so the antitheses face one\nanother unreconciled and a decision is not to be evaded. In this matter\nmankind is under the influence of a strong reaction against the\nreligious, and especially the Christian, mode of life. Throughout many\ncenturies Christianity has given life a unity and has thrown light upon\nreality from its standpoint: further, it has presented its way as the\nonly possible one; one to which everything which in any way strives\nspiritually upward has to adapt itself. If the truth of the whole now\nfalls into doubt, everything which was intended to give to life\nstability and character is soon felt to be heavily oppressive and\nintolerably narrow; and everything which in that mode of life was\naccidental, temporal, and human advances into the foreground. We clearly\nperceive that much passed current as true only because we had become\nunaccustomed to ask questions concerning it, and also that many things\nowed their acceptance not to their inner necessity, but only to social\nsanction. With such feelings it may come to be considered a great\ndeliverance to shake off the whole, and a necessary step towards\ntruthfulness of life to eliminate every aspect of that mode of life\nwhich through custom or authority continues to exist.\n\nThese tendencies are tendencies of reaction with all their\none-sidedness. But can we deny that a great change of life has been\naccomplished, a change which reaches far beyond these tendencies, and\nwhich is still working itself out? That which previously was most\nproximate to us is now made to recede; what held currency as absolutely\ncertain must now be laboriously proved, and, through continual\nreflection, loses all freshness and power to convince; immediate\nexperience, axiomatic certainty, immovable conviction are lacking. The\nself-evident certainties in the light of which earlier ages lived and\nworked are wanting, and we are compelled to acknowledge that some things\nbecome uncertain, even impossible, when they cease to be self-evident.\nAgain, it cannot fail to be recognised that we are tired of a merely\nreligious way of life; we feel its limitations; new needs are awakened\nand seek new forms of life and expression; even the traditional\nterminology displeases us; even the acutest dialectic cannot lend to the\nold the power of youth.\n\nOf course the matter is not finally settled by these judgments of the\nage. For, a later age is not the infallible judge of an earlier; much\nwhich to us moderns seems certain may soon become problematic; much\nwhich satisfies us may soon be shown to be inadequate. It may be that\nthe old is capable of asserting the ultimate depth of life in contrast\nto the new; that the world of inner spiritual experience which it\ndiscloses may finally show itself superior to every assault. But, in any\ncase, the new contains a wealth of fact not only in individual results\nbut in the whole of its being; through its emergence it has transformed\nthe whole condition of things; it is impossible to decry it as a mere\napostasy and to appeal to the consciences of individuals. It may be that\nspiritual power here stands against spiritual power in a titanic\nstruggle for the soul of man: victory must fall to the power which\npenetrates to the primary depths of life and is capable of taking\npossession of what is true in the others. But if in this the older view\nof life is inwardly superior, it can develop such superiority only by\nits own complete renewal and energetic inward elevation, through the\nmost fundamental settlement with everything antagonistic in an\nall-comprehensive whole of life. Yet how deeply the age is still\ninvolved in its search! How far it is from the conclusion! For the\npresent, as far as the life of culture is concerned, Religion has fallen\ninto complete uncertainty; its chief support and realm lie not within\nbut outside of that life. It is this which makes all affirmation of\nReligion weak and all negation strong; it is this which threatens to\nstamp, as something subjective and false, every conception of a\n\"supernatural.\" Religion has become uncertain to us not merely in single\ndoctrines and tendencies, but in the whole of its being, in its\nfundamental contention as to the nature of life; and what it offers in\nthe traditional form in which it has come to us no longer satisfies a\nlife which has been aroused to greater breadth and freedom.\n\n\n2. THE SYSTEM OF IMMANENT IDEALISM\n\nBy the side of the religious system of life, for thousands of years, now\nas supplementary, now as contradictory, there has been another which may\nbe designated as Immanent Idealism. The latter system is not so fixed\nand overawing a structure as the former, but with a quieter force it\npenetrates the whole of life. It is not of a simple nature, but is found\nin many different forms; still, there exists so much in common in these\nthat they clearly exhibit and emphasise one common tendency. Like the\nreligious system, this Idealism also places life primarily in a world of\nthought, from which it organises sense experience; it is distinguished\nfrom the former system, however, in that it never separates the two\nworlds one from the other, but conceives them as related elements or\naspects of a single whole. They are related to one another as appearance\nand reality, as cause and effect, as animating and animated nature\n(_natura naturans_ and _naturata_). The divine is not so much a power\ntranscending the world as one permeating it and living in it; not\nsomething specific outside of things, but their connection in a living\nunity; it does not make demands and present us with problems so much as\ngive to the world its truth and depth. Thus, reality appears as an\ninwardly co-ordinated whole: the individual finds his genuine being only\nas a part of this whole. And so, here, the fundamental relation of life\nis that to the invisible whole of reality; with the development of this\nrelation, that which seems lifeless becomes animated; the elements which\nseem isolated are brought together; and the world discloses an infinite\ncontent and gives it to man for a joyous possession.\n\nBut it would be impossible for man to accomplish the transition from\nappearance to reality, if he were not rooted in the fundamental\npermanencies and if, in the comprehending of the world, he did not find\nhis own being. If this is the case, however, and if, through courageous\nturning from the superficiality to which he in the first place belongs,\nhe is able to set himself in the depth of reality, then a magnificent\nlife with the widest prospects opens out before him. For, now, he may\nwin the whole of infinity for his own and set himself free from the\ntriviality of the merely human without losing himself in an alien world;\nhe may direct the movement of life to a positive gain, since he guides\nit from within and from the whole. This life will find its centre in the\nactivities which bring man into relation with the whole and broaden him\nfrom within to the whole; thus, in science and art spiritual creation\nbecomes the chief concern; its forceful development allows us to hope\nfor an ennobling of the whole of existence. With this creative activity\nas centre, the rest is regarded as its environment, its means, its\npresupposition; but there remain a clear distinction and gradation\nbetween that which a creative life evolves immediately, and that which\nforms a mere condition for this and may never become an aim in itself.\nThus, the beautiful is separated sharply from the merely useful; the\ninner life from all preservation of physical existence; a genuine\nspiritual culture, as the revelation of the depth of things, from all\nperfecting of natural and social conditions, from mere civilisation.\nHere life finds an aim and a task in itself; they are not presented to\nit from a transcendent world; but it can evolve a morality in the sense\nof taking up the whole into one's own volition, the subjection of\ncaprice to the necessity of things.\n\nA life thus full of content and joyous activity arose when Greek culture\nwas at its height, and exercised its influence through the course of the\ncenturies; Christianity also soon laid aside its original suspicion\nagainst this life and joined it to itself. This life, however, first\nattained complete independence and self-consciousness in modern culture\nso far as this culture followed the way of Idealism. It is felt to be\nsuperior to Religion and hopes to be able to shape the world of man more\nsatisfactorily than Religion can. In this system formulated conceptions\nand perplexing doctrines of the divine are not necessary, as they are in\nReligion, because the divine is present immediately in the process of\nlife and surrounds man on all sides. Man's powers are not drawn in a\nparticular direction and nothing is discarded, but everything is to be\nuniformly developed and unified in an all-inclusive harmony; natural\ninstincts are restrained and ennobled through their relations in a\nlarger whole. A power of organisation is displayed which reaches the\nfinest vein of the soul, throws the genuinely human into relief in\ncontrast with environment and tradition, and makes it the matter of\nchief concern: with all this it deepens life in itself and finds\nincalculable treasure in such depth. Everywhere there is powerful effort\nand creative activity on the part of man, but at the same time the\nconsciousness of an invisible order; a joyful affirmation of life, but\nat the same time a deliverance from unrestrained curiosity and coarse\nenjoyment; a breadth and a freedom of life, and with this a clear\nconsciousness of the greatness but also of the limitations of man. Such\nwas the state of conviction in the classical period of German\nliterature.\n\nThis form of life has, with remarkable quickness, been relegated into\nthe distance; with all its external proximity it has become inwardly\nmore alien to us than the world of Religion. All this has come to pass,\nhowever, not so much through direct conflict, which its free and\ncomprehensive nature could scarcely provoke, as through inner changes of\nconditions and strivings, which have now thrust other facts into\nprominence and driven men to other tasks. The transformation could\nhardly have been effected so quickly and so fundamentally if this mode\nof life did not involve fixed limits and problematic presuppositions\nwhich we have now become fully conscious of for the first time.\n\nIt is the aristocratic nature of this Immanent Idealism which first\nawakens suspicion and opposition. Spiritual creation, from which it\nexpects complete salvation, can take possession of and satisfy the whole\nsoul only where it breaks forth spontaneously with great and powerful\neffect, where, with overwhelming power, it raises man above himself. An\nincontrovertible experience shows us that this takes place only in rare\nand exceptional cases; there must be a union of many forces before man\ncan rise to such a height and be swayed by the compulsion of this\ncreation. Now, it is true that the gain of such red-letter days carries\nits effect into ordinary days and that from the heights light pours down\nupon lower levels. But in such transmission there is a serious and\ninevitable loss in power and purity; indeed, in veracity: that which\nfills the life of those producing it and arouses it to its highest\npassion easily becomes to the receiver a subsidiary matter, a pleasant\naccompanying experience. Thus we see epochs of organisation follow upon\ntimes of creation, but we see that such organisation sinks more and more\ninto a reflective and passive reproduction. Such organisation tends to\nbecome mere imagination; the man imbued with the spirit of such\norganisation easily seems to himself more than he is; with a false\nself-consciousness talks and feels as though he were at a supreme\nheight; lives less his own life than an alien one. Sooner or later\nopposition must necessarily arise against such a half-life, such a life\nof pretence, and this opposition will become especially strong if it is\nanimated by the desire that all who bear human features should\nparticipate in the chief goods of our existence and freely co-operate in\nthe highest tasks. It must be observed that this longing is one which,\nat the present time, is found to be irresistible. And so the\naristocratic character of Immanent Idealism produces a type of life\nrigidly exclusive, harsh and intolerable.\n\nBut not only does this type of life lack complete power and truthfulness\nin regard to mankind as a whole; it is subject to similar limitations in\nrelation to the world and to things. All success in our relation to the\nworld and to things depends on the spiritual constituting the thing's\nown depth, on things finding their genuine being in it, and where this\ndepth is reached, on the visible world uniting with it willingly, indeed\njoyfully, and moulding itself solely and completely for spiritual\nexpression. Spirit and world must strive together in mutual trust and\neach must finally be completely involved one in the other; reality must\nbuild itself up, if not at one stroke, at any rate in ceaseless advance\nas a kingdom of reason. A solution at once so simple and so easy bluntly\ncontradicts the experiences of the last century. Both without and within\nthe soul of man an infinite concreteness makes itself evident, which\nwithstands all derivation from general principles, all insertion into a\ncomprehensive scheme, obstinately asserts its particularity, forms its\nown complexes, and follows its own course. The realistic mode of thought\nof the Modern Age has brought this aspect of reality to full\nrecognition. If the spiritual life cannot take complete possession of\nthings, if a realm of facts continues to exist over against it, it may\nbe doubted whether the spiritual is of the ultimate being of the world\nand reveals the reality of things, or whether it merely comes to them\nfrom without and only touches their surface. In the latter case external\nlimitation becomes the cause of an inward convulsion. This is a fact\nwhich we find corroborated when we come to reflect that Immanent\nIdealism treats the spiritual life in man much too hastily and boldly as\nabsolute spiritual life; that it attributes to human capacity, without\nfurther consideration, that which belongs to spiritual life in general.\nThe experiences of modern life place the particularity and insignificant\nof man more and more before our eyes; they enable us to see with what\ndifficulty and how slowly any kind of spiritual life whatever has\nemerged in the human sphere, and with what toil it maintains itself\nthere; they insist that, if the spiritual life is not to sink down to a\nmere appearance to man, a sharp distinction must be made between the\nsubstance of the spiritual life and the form of its existence in man; in\nevery sphere modern life puts questions which lead beyond the position\nof Immanent Idealism. Immanent Idealism seems to treat the problem of\nlife much too summarily and not to penetrate sufficiently to ultimate\ndepths.\n\nThe conflict between Immanent Idealism and modern life is still more\nkeen in regard to the problem whether reality is rational. It is\nessential to this Idealism to affirm this rationality; it need not\nconceive it as present in a complete state, but it must be sure of an\nadvance to it; the movement of reality, with its antitheses and\nconflicts, must pass in elements of reason. Immanent Idealism tolerates\nno inner division of the spiritual life; wherever spiritual movement\nemerges, there can be no doubt concerning the aim; the development of\npower must bring the right disposition with it; every limitation can\ncome only from weakness or misunderstanding; there can be no radical\nevil. With an optimism of this kind the leading minds of German\nclassical literature are imbued; but how much, in the midst of all the\nprogress of civilisation, in the nineteenth century the appearance of\nthe world has been darkened! We see now with complete clearness the\nindifference of the forces of nature towards the aims of the spirit; we\nsee the incessant crossing of the work of reason by blind necessity; we\nsee the spiritual life divided against itself, eminent spiritual powers\ndrawn into the service of lower interests, and carried away by\nunrestrained passion. In a time of extraordinary increase of technical\nand social culture, we see the spiritual life win scarcely anything, in\nfact, seriously recede; we see it become perplexed concerning its main\ndirection, and oscillate in uncertainty between different possibilities.\nWe experience in every sphere a violent convulsion of the spirit. How\ncan Immanent Idealism satisfy us under such circumstances; how can it\nassure to our life a firm basis?\n\nIndeed, we may now doubt whether Immanent Idealism signifies a type of\nlife at all; whether it is not simply a compromise between a religious\nshaping of life and a life turned towards sense experience; a _via\nmedia_, which as merely transitional is only able to maintain itself for\na time. The historical experience of the Modern Age seems to show that\nthe latter hypothesis is the true one. At the beginning of the epoch\nReligion stood in secure supremacy and the divine acted on man from a\nsovereignty that was supreme over the world. Then the divine came ever\ncloser to the world that it might spread itself over it and permeate it,\ntill finally there was no longer any separation, and God and world\nblended together in a single whole. At first this seemed a pure and a\ngreat gain: the divine put off all rigid sovereignty and spoke to us\nimmediately out of the whole extent of life; the world was related,\nthrough the power of the divine, to an inner whole and, illuminated by\nit, received a transfigured appearance. And yet this solution was only\napparent; it contained an inner contradiction, which ultimately was\nbound to break forth with a power of destruction. The divine had\ndeveloped its power and its depth in opposition to the world; will it\nretain that power and that depth if the opposition ceases; will not the\nrenunciation of supremacy, the fusion with things, rob it of all\ndistinctive content? As a matter of fact, with this increase in\nproximity and extension, the divine fades and dissolves more and more;\never less power proceeds from it: and so the world is ever less\ntransformed and elevated by it; its transfiguring light is dissipated\nand its inner relations are broken. From being a life-penetrating power\nPantheism becomes more and more a vague disposition; indeed, an empty\nphrase. The living whole, which in the beginning raised things to\nitself, has finally become a mere abstraction which cannot hold its\nground before vigorous thought. Thus, with an immanent dialectic, such\nas historical life often enough shows, the movement, since it strove for\nbreadth, has been destroyed in its life-giving root; it has abandoned\nthe basis from which it derived its truth and power. Immanent Idealism\nshows itself to be one great contradiction; a fascinating illusion,\nwhich, instead of reality, presents us with mere appearance.\n\nOf course, Immanent Idealism is not finally refuted by such doubts and\ndifficulties; it puts forward demands which need to be satisfied in\nsome way; it contains truths which in some manner must be acknowledged.\nWhat would become of human life if it should abandon its striving\nforwards to the whole; its spiritual penetration of the world; its\nadvance in greatness and breadth; its joyous and vigorous nature; the\nexcellence of its disposition? But the indispensable truth that is\ninvolved in Immanent Idealism must be brought into wider relations, and\nthus made clear and modified, so that it may be more secure and more\nfruitful in its effect. Meanwhile, we see that here also we are in\ncomplete uncertainty; that which was intended to give a firm support,\nand to point out a clear course to our life, has itself become a\ndifficult problem.\n\n\n(b) THE NEWER SYSTEMS\n\nNo attack from without and no relaxation from within could have brought\nthe older systems of life into the state of chaos which we actually find\nthem to be in, if the experience of sense had not become far more to man\nand had not given him far more to do than in earlier times. Hitherto\ngenuine spiritual life seemed to be able to unfold itself only in\nenergetic detachment from the world of sense; it reduced this world to a\nsubordinate sphere which received its position and value only from a\ntranscendent order; thus, all tarrying with the things of sense seemed\nto be a sign of a lower disposition, a falling from the heights of human\nlife.\n\nThis view has been radically altered by the course of the Modern Age.\nWhen the invisible world became uncertain to man and the life directed\ntowards it shadowy, an intense thirst for reality, for a life out of the\nabundance and truth of things, arose, and only the visible world seemed\nto promise satisfaction. This world had been seen previously in a\nparticular light which is now felt to be artificial and distorting; if\nthis light fails and the world can unfold itself unaffected, it shows a\nfar richer content, far firmer relations, far greater tasks. All this is\nmore especially because the world no longer appears to be something\nfinished, but as still in process and as capable of a thorough-going\nelevation; because great possibilities which human power is able to\nawaken still lie dormant in it. In diverse directions sense experience\nadvances far beyond the older form; Natural Science analyses the visible\nworld into its single components and makes it penetrable to our thought,\nand at the same time technical skill wins power over its forces. In the\npolitical and social sphere men find new tasks not only in regard to\nisolated questions, but throughout the whole of its organisation, and\ngreat hopes of an essential elevation of life are raised. The individual\nalso appears more powerful and richer, in that the decay of traditional\nties gives him complete freedom for his development. Even if, in the\nstruggle for the control of life, these movements in many ways fall into\ncontradiction one with another, still, in the first place they unite in\nadvancing the world of sense in man's estimation, in fixing his love and\nhis work there, and in also making men more and more disinclined to\nconsider the life-systems rooted in the invisible. Sense experience\npresents itself ever more decidedly as something which can tolerate\nneither partner nor rival; the life directed towards it loses more and\nmore the nature of being an opponent, which it hitherto had, and it\nundertakes to shape our whole existence characteristically in positive\nachievement and also to satisfy the spiritual needs of man completely.\nAll this signifies an entire reversal of the order of life; for, since\nthe world which formerly had seemed secondary now becomes predominant,\nindeed exclusive, all standards and values are changed, and the old\npossession appears also as a new gain. It is true that the new mode of\nthought misses the advantages which a long tradition gave to the old:\nbut in place of this, it has the charm of searching and finding for\nitself, the joy of first discovery and successful exertion; here an\ninfinite horizon is disclosed; before the research and effort of man\nlies an open way. Endeavour derives particular power and confidence\nfrom the conviction that the new is nothing else than the old and\ngenuine, but hitherto misunderstood, nature: it is a return of life to\nitself, to its plain and pure truth, which permits us to expect a new\nworld epoch. And so mankind, exalted in mind and with cheerful courage,\nenters upon the course which promises so much.\n\n\n1. THE NATURALISTIC SYSTEM\n\nThe movement towards giving sole attention to the world of sense cannot\nmake sure progress without a more definite decision concerning the main\nagents and the main direction of work. Different possibilities here\noffer themselves; three, however, in particular. In reality, these have\nall evolved, sometimes blending together and strengthening one another,\nat other times crossing and hindering one another.\n\nNone of these movements has displayed more energy and exercised more\npower than that which makes the sense experience of surrounding nature\nits basis, and strives to include man's entire being within this\nexperience. This is Naturalism, which, starting out from the mechanical\nconception of nature, which has been developed in the Modern Age,\napplies the ideas thus obtained to everything, and subordinates even the\nlife of the soul to them. The movement originated at the dawn of the\nseventeenth century, when an independence and autonomy of nature began\nto be acknowledged. Nature had been covered with a veil of explanation,\nmainly \u00e6sthetic or religious in character, which gave it a colour\ncorresponding to the prevailing disposition, but at the same time\nexcluded the possibility of a scientific comprehension. A comprehension\nof this kind could only be attained by getting rid of all subjective\naddition which had been made by man, and by investigating nature purely\nby itself. Since Descartes and Galileo that has been accomplished, and\nnature now appears as an immense web of single threads, as a complex of\nfundamentally mobile, but soulless, elements, whose movements take\nsimple basal forms, while the combination of these elements produces all\nconstructions, even the most complicated. This mighty machinery never\npoints beyond, and as it runs its course solely within itself, so it\nrequires to be understood solely from itself. Everything spiritual is\nthus eliminated; this realm of fact has no implication of aims, or of a\nmeaning of events.\n\nThis new scientific conception of nature had first, with much toil and\ndifficulty, to wrestle with the traditional, na\u00efvely human,\nrepresentation; this was chiefly a matter of reducing first appearances\nto their simple elements, and of constructing the world anew from these.\nBy this process, nature at the same time became accessible to the\noperation of man. For, the technical control of nature presupposes the\nanalytic character of research; only such a research, with its discovery\nof the single elements and tendencies, places man in a relation of\nactivity towards nature; while in earlier times only an attitude of\ncontemplation had been granted to him. Natural Science thus created a\nnew type of life, a life energetic, masculine, pressing forward\nunceasingly.\n\nThis life, like science itself, in the first place forms a special part\nof a wider whole. As the expulsion of the soul from nature at first\nbrought about a strengthening of the soul in itself, nature was the less\nimmediately able to govern the whole. The individual of modern times\nstrengthened and asserted himself against nature, and insisted upon a\nrealm of independent inwardness. The contest was a severe one; yet the\nmore nature was seen to extend, on the one hand, to the infinitely\ngreat, and, on the other, to the infinitely small, the more fixed\nrelations it showed, so much the more overwhelmingly did it draw man to\nitself, the more did its conception tend to include the inner aspects of\nthe soul also. The final blow in the struggle was given by the modern\ntheory of descent, since this theory asserts man to be the product\nsolely of natural forces, and maintains that everything which man\nascribes to himself as characteristic and distinctive is derived from a\ngradual development of natural factors. And so nature is exalted as an\nall-comprehensive world--nature, that is, as represented in the modern\nmechanistic theory, which is thus transformed into a final theory of the\nworld, a naturalistic metaphysic. The human and spiritual world, which\nhitherto had been felt to be an independent realm in contrast with\nnature, appears henceforth as its mere continuation, as something which\nfits completely into a wider conception of nature.\n\nA conviction of this kind must fundamentally alter the position of the\nspiritual life, as well as its magnitudes and values: and this\nconviction is no mere theory, but desires and strives to take possession\nof the whole of existence and to change its form completely. Indeed, a\nparticular naturalistic type of life arises and wins a powerful\ninfluence over the thought and activity of the time.\n\nNaturalism denies all independence of the spiritual life, which it\nregards as nothing more than an adjunct to the realm of nature, and one\nthat can only exist along with sense existence, as a part of or as a\nsupplement to it. Spirituality has, therefore, to subordinate itself and\nconform entirely to the life of nature; it can never produce and guide a\nmovement from itself, never evolve a basal and comprehensive activity,\nnever withdraw itself into its own sphere as into an independent realm.\nAll self-existent spirituality fades to a world of mere shadows;\nwhatever makes itself felt in us can only become a complete reality by\nwinning flesh and blood through the appropriation of physical forces.\nLife, thus understood, possesses nothing in itself; it receives\neverything from its relations to the environment with which it is bound\nup: thought brings forth no new ideas; all ideas are merely\nabbreviations of sense impressions. Effort can never realise purely\nspiritual values; the essence of all happiness is sensuous enjoyment,\nhowever refined that may in some cases be. The naturalistic system of\nlife receives a more definite delineation from the representation of\nnature, which the mechanical theory, together with a theory of descent\nadapted to it, sketches and impressively holds up to the present age. By\nthis theory nature is completely resolved into a co-existence of\nindividual forces, which, within the narrow bounds of existence, must\nclash violently together, and assert themselves one against the other in\nceaseless conflict. This conflict, however, is a source of progressive\nmovement, in that it brings together, establishes, and employs\neverything useful for self-preservation; it keeps life in a state of\nyouthful freshness, in that new conditions continually arise and demand\nnew accommodations with respect to the biologico-economic environment. A\nbiologico-economic mode of thought is evolved which revolutionises all\nprevious estimations of values. Everything intrinsically valuable\ndisappears from the world; its expulsion seems a deliverance from a\nconfused, indeed a meaningless, conception of things; the useful, that\nwhich promotes the interests of living beings, each after its kind, in\nthe struggle for existence, becomes the all-dominating value. No\nmysterious being of things is apprehended in the True; but those\npresentations and systems of thought are called true which ensure that\nthe best accommodation to the conditions of life shall be attained, and\nwhich just in this way hold the individuals together. No longer does a\nGood speak to man with austere demand from a transcendent sovereignty;\nbut that is good which, within our experience, is of service to the\npreservation of life. The Beautiful, also, is subordinated to the\nuseful, and it is solely by its value in relation to this that it\nasserts itself. In everything, it is only one's own welfare, the\ninterest of individual preservation, that directly inspires conduct; but\nreal life shows man in so many relations, so closely implicated with his\nenvironment, that he can strive for nothing for himself without also\nstriving for others. This extension of interests has no limits; there is\nnothing in the whole of infinity which could not in this way become to\nman, indirectly, a means of self-preservation and thus an object of\ndesire.\n\nThe naturalistic type of life extends from the most general of impulses\nto every branch of activity, and forms every department of life in a\ndistinctive fashion. Knowledge depends entirely upon experience; every\nspeculative element must be excluded as a subjective delusion; in all\nits branches knowledge is nothing else than a broadened Natural Science.\nArt may not pursue imaginary ideals; it finds its single task in the\nfaithful and simple reproduction of the natural environment. Social life\nand endeavour will develop, above all, natural powers, and will seek to\nadapt itself to the conditions given by nature, and, rejecting all aims\nbased upon mere imagination, it will care chiefly for the physical\nwelfare of the whole, as the source of all power and of all success.\n\nIt is not difficult to understand how this form of life was able to win\nand carry away the minds of its contemporaries. In the first place it\nhas the character of simplicity and immediacy, which, in contrast with\nthe complexity and the remoteness of the traditional position, appears a\ngreat advantage. For, in this scheme, life, with all its multiplicity,\nis dominated and unified by the idea of natural self-preservation; and\nthe things which immediately affect us, which lie physically and\npsychically near to us, come most directly into relation to this aim. It\nis a further tendency of this scheme of life to bring the whole of\nexistence into a state of activity and restless advance. For the state\nof conflict which prevails under the naturalistic system allows nothing\nto persist merely because of its present existence or through the weight\nof tradition, but everything must always be reasserting its right to\nexistence; it must stretch and extend itself in order to be useful in\nthe life of the present. That which cannot satisfy this test is\nunmercifully thrown over as a dead weight. It is also of great\nimportance to the theory in question that nature and the world are\ninvolved in ceaseless change, and that, along with the conditions of\nlife, the requirements also alter: the matter is one of continually\naccommodating oneself anew; and so life is placed entirely in the\npresent, and the fixity of an absolute conception and treatment of\nchange yields to the instability of a relative one. Last of all, and\nmost especially, life according to its own conviction bears the\ncharacter of truth. For human striving appears to attain the firm basis\nof reality, and to become truthful in itself only when it is definitely\nrelated to the surrounding world; while, so long as it trusted to the\ncapacity of the subject--which fondly imagined itself independent--it\nfell into unspeakable error. Only when delivered from subjectivity, only\nwhen fixed within the web of the whole of nature, does life seem to\nawaken out of a dream, and to become fully real, a genuine, securely\ngrounded life.\n\nThe energy of negation which this theory employs and with which it\ndrives out everything which has become old adds strength to the elements\nof assertion and positive achievement in these changes. In this theory\nthere is nothing indefinite which could soften the opposition, nothing\nmediatory which could overcome it, but, distinctly and harshly,\naffirmation and negation stand face to face and call for a plain\ndecision between them. Whatever remains in doubt and under suspicion is\nforced into the background, indeed eliminated altogether, through the\nvictorious onward march of modern Natural Science and the increasing\ntriumphs of technical skill, which seem to demonstrate, immediately, the\ntruth of the naturalistic type of life. Thus, this movement spreads in a\nmighty flood through humanity, and seizes with a particular power the\nclasses which are struggling upward, and which meet science and culture\nwith a faith yet undisturbed. In matters temporal there is hardly\nanything which seems able to withstand such an attack.\n\nNevertheless, that which gains the support of many contemporaries is not\nthereby proved to be the supreme power and the final truth. In that\nmovement there may be far more, and something far more important than it\nitself admits. It may be that it achieves that which it does achieve\nonly with the help of elements of another kind; perhaps, indeed, it is\nable to maintain its truth only in so far as it enters into broader\nrelations in a wider whole and thereby changes its meaning essentially.\nWhether such is the case can be ascertained not by reference to\nsubjective opinion, but by an examination of the life of humanity.\n\nNow, the first movement of opposition is produced in just that sphere\nwhich seemed Naturalism's strongest bulwark, that is, Natural Science,\nthe Natural Science based on mathematics and physics. Only the most\nfleeting survey can lead to the confusion of Natural Science with\nNaturalism; in reality, the naturalistic thinker cannot with justice\nacknowledge any exact Natural Science, and a natural scientist cannot be\nnaturalistic in thought in consequence of his science, but only in spite\nof it. For, Natural Science is anything but a mere copy of the sense\nimpressions which we experience; its origin and progress are due to the\nfact that thought fundamentally acts upon and transforms those\nimpressions. If our intellect were no more than Naturalism can logically\nmake it out to be, it could, at most, only refine the animal\npresentations a little; it never could have advanced beyond the single\npresentations to a representative conception of the world as a whole.\nSuch an advance can be achieved only by thought raising itself above the\nstream of appearances and placing itself over against it; but how could\na mere bundle of perceptions, to which Naturalism reduces the intellect,\nachieve this? Incomparably more unity of being and freedom of operation\nare necessary for this achievement than such a bundle could produce.\n\nIn earlier times, no doubt, man went very much astray in the\ninterpretation of his environment; he transferred his immediate feelings\ninto it; he coloured the whole world in human colours, and associated\nwith its realities as with beings of the same nature as himself. But\neven the error shows a seeking and an interpretation; the simple putting\nof the question proclaims a being becoming superior to mere nature. The\nmost important thing, however, is that man has not regarded the matter\nas finally settled with this anthropomorphism; he has come to regard it\nas inadequate and has pressed forward to a new way of thinking. What\ncould drive him to that change but a desire for truth, and how is such a\nconception as _truth_ attainable from nature? And if thought has\nsucceeded in breaking through the misty veil of anthropomorphism and\nseeks things in their own relations; if an objective consciousness of\nthe world has emerged, a consciousness which is as different from the\nimmediacy of sense impressions as the sky is distant from the earth, has\nnot man also grown in himself beyond mere sense impression; is it not a\nwork of thought which supports and governs the whole construction, and\ndifferentiates genuine nature from appearance? How much power of\ncomprehension and of relating together is exhibited even by Natural\nScience, in that it analyses the sense presentation of the environment\ninto its single elements, ascertains the laws of these, and traces the\nmovement from the simplest beginnings right up to its present stage of\ndevelopment. All activity of thought is thus subject to a certain\nreproach in that it must continually bring itself into relation to\nperception: nevertheless it will interweave all that is imparted to it\nby perception into a framework of thought--transform it, in fact, into a\nrealm of thought. Spirituality is bound; but how dull an individual must\nbe to confuse such a bound spirituality with mere sensuousness!\n\nThe error of Naturalism is obvious; concerned solely with the object and\nits form, it entirely leaves out of account the psychical activity which\nis involved in the perception of an object; it overlooks the\nlife-process within which alone we can have knowledge of an object and\noccupy ourselves with it. As soon, however, as we regard the object from\nthis point of view, it will be transformed and will assume far more\nspiritual traits. Reality will then burst asunder the framework into\nwhich Naturalism desires to press it.\n\nThe type of life which Naturalism gives rise to also contains more than\nNaturalism is able to explain. At first sight it seems as though man is\ntaken up completely into a wider conception of nature; as though his\nlife obeys its forces and impulses exclusively; as though all his\nasserted superiority to nature is simply imaginary. As a matter of fact,\nin this turning to nature, man, with his spiritual activity, stands not\nwithin, but above, nature. For he does not appear as a mere piece of\nnature, but experiences it and thinks over it: its kingdom, its\norganisation, its stability become to him a joyful possession and a\nwidening of his being. The spiritual life has developed in relation to\nnature; nature has not welded it together. The same may be said of the\nidea of the increase of power, which constitutes the main gain of life\nin the naturalistic system. For, in the naturalistic type of life power\nis not directed towards externals, as in nature, but is experienced and\nenjoyed, and only thus does it constitute a source of happiness; yet how\ncould it be that, without an organisation of life in an inner unity\nwhich transcends individual occurrences? Thus, the intellectual and the\ntechnical control of nature which the Modern Age has acquired attracts\nmen and prevails over them chiefly as a growth of life, as an increase\nof self-reliance. Even material goods, wealth and property, do not\ndetermine the endeavour of the man of culture so much through sensuous\nenjoyment, the limit of which is soon reached, as through their\npossibilities as means to activity and creation, to the advancement of\nhuman capacity. It is this in particular which has filled the material\ncivilisation of the present with the spirit of restlessness and\nextravagance, and gives it its demoniacal power over men. It is this\nrelation alone which explains and justifies the present estimate of\nmaterial goods, so much higher as that is in modern culture than it was\nin the older systems of thought, which branded as unworthy all endeavour\ndirected to the acquirement of such things.\n\nIn short, even Naturalism in no way eliminates the subject with its\ninwardness; rather in its own development it everywhere presupposes the\nsubject. It does not shape life out of mere and pure nature, but out of\na close union of a transcendent spiritual life with nature, and out of\nan energetic insistence upon elements of nature within the soul.\nHowever, man experiences not so much the things themselves as himself\nin the things; the relating together, the surveying, the experiencing of\nthe whole is always a spiritual performance. This performance makes\nsomething different out of nature, just as the naturalistic culture that\nis striven for is different from the state of nature that is found at\nthe beginning. The misconception of the relation of nature to the mind;\nthe postulation of nature without mind, in place of nature with mind,\nmakes Naturalism self-contradictory and untenable. Naturalism therefore\nstruggles vainly against the following dilemma: if it is really in\nearnest in the elimination of spiritual realities, it must inevitably\ndestroy its own fundamental basis and, as a system of life, must break\ndown; while if it in any way acknowledges a transcendence of nature, and\na transcendence just in that which is fundamental to it, then it is\nnecessarily driven beyond itself.\n\nBut such contradiction in the basal position must be present through the\nwhole development of Naturalism and must make all its factors variating\nin colour and double in meaning, since at one and the same time they\ninvolve the spiritual element and reject it, eliminate it and bring it\ninto the foreground, the former openly and explicitly, the latter\nconcealedly and implicitly. Such is the case, in particular, with the\nfundamental conception of the _struggle for existence_. In the context\nof Naturalism, this conception can signify nothing else than the\npreservation of natural existence, of mere life; such a conception,\nhowever, is as incapable of comprehending the whole wealth of the work\nof civilisation and culture as it is of developing within itself. If the\npreservation of existence in this sense were really the highest aim,\nthen, all the work of humanity, incalculable and great as it is, all the\ntoil and creative activity of history, would be without result; in no\nway would it lead beyond the starting-point; we should, of course, have\nlife, but nothing along with and in life. Indeed, the movement would be\na continual retrogression, for the experience of the present shows us\nclearly enough that the conflict of life becomes ever more difficult,\ntoilsome, and embittered. If all this toil does not yield more than was\npossessed in the original condition, that is, physical existence, then\nthis implies that we have to make an ever greater detour to establish\nthat which formerly devolved upon us immediately. In such a case our\nlife would be a continual sinking, a toil continually increasing in\ndifficulty, in order that we might simply be something, without being\nanything in particular. Or, will anyone assert that there is no\nretrogression when the achievement of the same aim costs ever more\neffort, ever more labour and turmoil of spirit?\n\nThe fact is that Naturalism also gives to life, which is seen to be thus\nimmersed in conflict, some kind of content, which it conceives as\nincreasing continually in the course of the movement, and as attaining\nfor us through the conflict an ever richer and more comprehensive\nexistence. But how can a conception such as that of the _content of\nlife_ originate in mere nature? How can it be even conceived unless life\npossesses some consciousness of itself, unless there is a transformation\nof what is external into something internal--a thing which nature can\nnever accomplish?\n\nWith the conception of the _struggle for existence_, the useful becomes\nthe preponderant power of life; it attempts a transvaluation of all\nvalues, since it lays stress rather on the relation of things to us than\non their own nature. The conception won acceptance from and power over\nthe minds of men because it was a complete change from the generally\naccepted explanation, and at the same time seemed to simplify matters\ngreatly. Unfortunately, on further consideration this transformation\nproves to be a complete reversal of the general scheme of life, indeed a\ndestruction of it. Man, it is true, does not preserve his physical\nexistence without toil; he must continually win it anew, and nothing can\noccupy him which does not acquire some relation to this necessity and\nmake itself consistent with it. But the further question arises, whether\nanxiety for the useful is also able to crush out that which is\ndistinctive and characteristic in the world of humanity. If we\nrecognise the limits of the endeavour after the useful, we shall soon\nbecome doubtful concerning its claim to be the sole aim of conduct. That\nendeavour is spent solely on the welfare of the individual; it can never\nfree itself from reference to the individual, and never, beyond that\nperceived, can it take up anything as an aim in itself. Interest is\ncentred solely upon the external products of the activity of men and of\nthe process of nature, and not at all upon what men and nature are in\nthemselves. We find here nothing but isolated spheres of existence which\nare devoid alike of inner relation to themselves and to one another.\n\nNow, Naturalism can appeal in its own defence to the fact that real life\nshows its individual departments to have thousands of inter-relationships,\nso that the welfare of the individual is inseparably bound up with that of\nhis environment, his family, his home, his state; and that therefore, in\norder to prosper himself, his endeavour must be for the good of these\nalso. It may even serve his own interest to give up a direct advantage in\nfavour of a greater indirect one. Further, Naturalism is able to assert\nthat, however little the inner disposition of others may affect us\ndirectly, this disposition can acquire a value for us in so far as its\npersistence alone assures to us a continuance of achievement. As\nconsiderations of this kind may be extended without limit, there is\nnothing in the whole breadth of existence which the utilitarian view of\nlife need reject.\n\nBut, in the midst of all this extension in breadth, this development of\nlife retains a fixed limitation in its inner nature, which cannot be\ntranscended: we can never strive for the alien, the other, the whole,\nfor its own sake, but only as a means for our own welfare; everything\ninward becomes a matter of indifference if, sooner or later, it is not\ntransformed into an external result. Human life, however, through its\nown development has grown beyond this limitation; if not in the breadth\nof existence, yet in its inner nature and at its highest, it manifests\nsomething significantly more. Man is capable of a love which values\nanother, not because it hopes for this or that which is useful from\nhim, but because with the whole of his existence he is valuable to it.\nMan is capable of a love which can lead him to the willing\nsubordination, indeed the joyful sacrifice, of his own existence; of a\nlove in which the first self dies and a new self is born. \"Love is the\ngreatest of all contradictions, and one which the understanding cannot\nsolve, since there is nothing more impenetrable than this individuality\nof self-consciousness, which is negated, and which yet I should retain\nas positive\" (Hegel). Into what a state of poverty humanity would fall\nif a genuine love of this kind were struck out of the number of its\npossessions! But can Naturalism in any way understand and estimate such\nan inner expansion of the heart, such a _Stirbe und Werde_ [a dying to\nlive], to use the words of Goethe?\n\nA deliverance of life from the mere _ego_ is effected in another\ndirection in work. Of course, work also stands in close relation to the\npreservation of life; it must demonstrate itself to be in some way\nuseful. But work would never fill the soul and attain to anything great\nif it did not also become an aim in itself; if it were not carried on in\ncomplete submission to the object and according to its requirements. How\nlow all educational endeavour, personal guardianship, all work for\nhumanity would sink; how humanity would lack all self-forgetting\ndevotion to it, all bold pressing forward; and how unintelligible the\njoy in a life's vocation would be, if the idea of utility solely and\nentirely determined conduct, if the chief concern were always how the\nwork paid! Should we not sink, in such a case, into a slavery which\nwould enthral man far more oppressively than any command which a tyrant\ncould be capable of?\n\nIt is true that on the average level of existence much is turned to the\nservice of the merely useful which was produced from love and work, and\nthis reversal of spiritual goods may be the first thing which comes\ndefinitely under our notice. In order, however, even to be so applied\nand reversed, they must originally have been generated in some manner,\nand this original generation can never proceed from the useful, but only\nout of the inner force and compulsion of the object, as, for example, in\nthe case of the great transitions of thought, of artistic creation, and\nof religious conviction. And, as these have proceeded from inner\nmovements, so they have also brought about powerful inner changes. They\nhave not altered this or that in a given world in order to make it more\ncomfortable to man, but with an energetic revolution have transformed\nour world from its very foundations, and have constructed a new world in\ncontrast to that which immediately surrounds us. How much or how little\nindividual men, or indeed even mankind as a whole, have appropriated of\nthis; how far man has corresponded and still corresponds to the\nnecessities of his own nature, is a matter and a question in itself: in\nthe spiritual life of humanity the new magnitudes are extant, and they\noperate here as norms for testing all achievement. At the same time,\nthey show that our life and our nature are of a kind different from what\nNaturalism represents them to be. However much Naturalism may boast that\nit is possible for even the highest to be drawn into the service of the\nmerely human, with all its boasting it has not explained the origin of\nthe highest: can a thing proceed from its own shadow? The naturalistic\nattempt to trace everything back to the useful really reverses the\ncondition of affairs and results in inner destruction wherever\ndisposition stands first. For conduct changes its character completely\naccording as it is regarded as a mere means, or as an end in itself;\naccording as its aim is striven for directly or only indirectly. Do such\nthings as love, fidelity, honour deserve these names if the thought of\nselfish advantage is their motive power? It lies in the nature of\ncertain things that they must be treated as ends in themselves and as\nmatters of primary concern: to degrade them to a subsidiary position is\nin their case only a finer kind of destruction; to be opposed to utility\nis an attribute inseparable from their very being. Where disposition is\nvalued only as a pre-condition of achievement, as in Naturalism, at the\nhighest only a tolerable appearance, a substitute for a genuine\ndisposition, can be reached in the whole moral sphere. Naturalism\naffords us an example of such a substitution when it sets up an\naltruistic action, that is, an action which produces something useful to\nanother, in place of an inner expansion of life, which takes the other\nup inwardly into our own volition and being, and which alone leads\nbeyond egoism. Naturalism is able to overlook all this; is able to make\nwhat is the secondary view of things the primary one; the derived, the\noriginal; is able to put the relation to human perception in place of\nthe thing itself, only because its interest is so completely occupied\nwith external relations that it does not independently evaluate the\ninner; and again, because a reflection that appeals to the understanding\nhinders all immediate relation and spontaneous appropriation. Otherwise,\nit also would feel how deep, how intolerable, a degradation of man\nensues if his innermost experience, his striving after truth, his\nwrestling for unity within himself, his love, and his suffering are made\na mere means to physical self-preservation, and are thus regarded from\nthe point of view of utility.\n\nIf we glance over the life of universal history, we see that a history\nof a distinctively human character extricates itself from the machinery\nof nature only through man's acquiring an independence over against his\nenvironment, evolving a life conscious of itself and from it exerting a\ntransforming power upon all presented to it. Only thus does a\ncivilisation grow up in contrast with the mere state of nature. In\ncivilisation and culture man enters into conflict with the infinity of\nthe external world, but he cannot carry on this conflict victoriously\nwithout setting an inner infinity in opposition to that external one. In\nthe struggle between these two worlds the life of man is transformed no\nless than the appearance of reality. More and more the visible world\nbecomes an expression of an invisible one; more and more life draws the\nworld into itself and finds the chief problems in its own sphere. Thus\nlife becomes raised above simple physical preservation; that which\nserves in this preservation is regarded as a condition only and as\nsomething preliminary.\n\nAmong the peoples situated nearest to us, this tendency has taken\ndifferent forms; but the separation of creative spiritual activity from\nall mere utility is common to all. Thus, Greek culture gave birth to a\nlife resting in its own movement, a life satisfied in itself. In the\nsharpest manner it marked off the beautiful, that which could produce\npleasure immediately and of itself, from the merely useful, everything\nwhich served something else. It lauded the life filled with the\nperception and appreciation of the beautiful as the only free life, and\npronounced every other way of life to be servile. Further, if in\nChristianity, in the comprehensiveness of its relations, the care for\nthe welfare of the narrowly human takes up a great amount of attention,\nand a utilitarianism of a religious kind is evolved, the height of its\ncreation and disposition is not affected: in it the winning of a new\nlife superior to all selfishness, the becoming one with the divine, is\nthe one end in itself. If Clement of Alexandria could say that, if it\nwas a matter of choosing between the knowledge of God and eternal bliss,\nhe would have, without hesitation, to renounce the latter, or if Thomas\n\u00e0 Kempis said, \"I would rather be poor for Thy sake than rich without\nThee. I choose rather to be a pilgrim with Thee on the earth, than\nwithout Thee to possess heaven. For where Thou art, there is heaven; but\nwhere Thou art not, there is death and hell\"--then these are not merely\nthe lofty sayings of individuals, but a faithful expression of that\nwhich gave to the whole system its world-penetrating and world-reviving\npower.\n\nThe Modern Age, too, which has conceded so much to utilitarian striving,\nis in the innermost essence of its effort far removed from the spirit of\nmere utility. For, from the two poles of its life, from the subject as\nfrom the object, it breaks through all that is simply \"given\" and forms\na new, self-existent world. In modern times the subject frees itself\nfrom the environment, places itself proudly over against it, and finds\nits securest experience in the self-certainty of its own life. At the\nsame time it in no way renounces the surrounding world; but through the\nactivity of thought it reconstructs that world, and in this\nconceptualises and idealises all its magnitudes. The more the subject\nbecomes assured of seeing all things spiritually and scientifically by\nmeans of its own organisation, the more true is it that all sense\nexperience is sustained and modified by spiritual power. Natural\nself-preservation cannot possibly satisfy the striving of the subject.\nFor this striving can never be reduced to a mere means, but finds its\npower, as its joy, in becoming a world in itself; in the proud\nmaintenance and establishment of its own nature in face of every\nopposition; in the impression of its particularity upon the infinity of\nthings. On the other hand, over against the circumstantiality of man,\ngreat systems of thought are formed; evolve a characteristic content and\nindependent powers; and, as forces in the life of universal history,\npress forward their consequences with inevitable necessity. These\nsystems seek to bring reality under their sway, and do not manifest the\nleast concern with regard to the continuance and the interests of man.\nScience and art and the political and economical aspects of life afford\nexamples of what we mean. Accordingly, in the modern world and in the\nmodern man, two movements towards infinity clash together, and from\nthese there arise great commotion and violent unrest. Whatever may\nremain enigmatical in this, the fact of the transformation of the first,\nthe sense experience of things, is beyond doubt. It is also beyond doubt\nthat man, regarded spiritually, does not find himself a member of a\ngiven world, but must first seek and make clear his fundamental\nrelations to the world. From this position Naturalism, with its na\u00efve\nassertion of the finality and permanence of the sense impression,\nappears to be an intolerable dogmatism.\n\nNaturalism is seen to be far below the highest point of universal\nhistorical development; it cannot appropriate the experiences and\nresults of that development; it consists of a confusion of na\u00efve and\nscientific modes of thought, which win the adherence of many\nindividuals, but which, through their contradictions, can never\nguarantee to life genuine stability and a clear course. Only because it\nevolves in the atmosphere of a world of another kind, and thereby\nimperceptibly enhances its own conceptions, does it appear at all\nplausible. Nevertheless, even so, it is a mischievous confusion of\nthought which must act detrimentally upon conduct. Those especially will\nbe opposed to it who recognise in human life great tasks and severe\nperplexities, and desire that the highest powers and clearest thought\nshall be called forth for the accomplishment of those tasks and the\nsolution of those perplexities. But Naturalism, obscuring, as it does,\nthe inner problems of life; with its backwardness in the movement of\nuniversal history; and with its attempt to take from human life all\nproud and free self-consciousness, indeed all soul, can tend only to\nreduce the energy of life.\n\nThe rejection of Naturalism by no means signifies failure to appreciate\nthe increased attention to nature, out of the wrong interpretation of\nwhich Naturalism has proceeded. Not only has visible nature become more\nto our knowledge; it has also become incomparably more to our life. The\nfact that we feel ourselves conditioned by it, and have become more\nclosely associated with it, can be fully appreciated and must force us\nto a radical revision of the traditional form of life. Such a revision,\nhowever, can be successful in achieving its aim only if the new\nexperiences are systematised to form a consistent whole with the\nremaining facts in a comprehensive, universal life; spiritual endeavour\nis solely and alone capable of offering this universality and of\naccomplishing this task.\n\n\n2. THE SOCIALISTIC SYSTEM\n\nThe socialistic system of life is often closely bound up with the\nnaturalistic, and blends with it so well as almost to form a single\nwhole; indeed, there is so much affinity in their fundamental\nprinciples that the one may appear to be the completion of the other.\nBut when we come to details, we find that a different character and a\ndifferent emotional life are yielded according as the relation to nature\nor to human society governs life; especially as we are parts in an\ninfinite nature, or as we place our own province in the foreground and\nseek a new form for it. On the one hand knowledge takes the lead, on the\nother activity. While the former, according to its nature, is more\nconcerned with reaching a consistent whole, the latter feels the\ncontradictions of experience most intensely. With the one progress\nappears to be a gradual accumulation, with the other it does not seem\npossible to dispense with a radical change; while the former is broader\nin its outlook, the latter has more warmth of enthusiasm. Through the\ndomination of thought and life by the problems of society, a distinctive\nform of culture may therefore be expected.\n\nIn modern life different motives have led to a closer unity of men on\nthe basis of experience. Religion no longer accords to the individual\nfirm support as in earlier times, and with every advance of scientific\nresearch nature is removed inwardly further from us; ceaseless criticism\nand reflection tend to prevent us more and more from comprehending the\nwhole as a unity. Man, thus isolated in the whole, seems to himself to\nbe lost, unless he succeeds in discovering relations between himself and\nothers of the same nature as himself, and unless in co-operation with\nthem he helps to build up an independent realm of their own, which may\nlend support and value to the life of the individual.\n\nIn the Modern Age social life has tended to this end under the influence\nof fresh impressions and new prospects. Hitherto that life was under the\ninfluence of an invisible world of thought, especially of one of a\nreligious kind. The union of men had particular presuppositions and was\nrealised in a particular manner; here, the more closely a certain group\nheld together, the more sharply was it separated from others; the\ncalling forth of power in one particular direction meant diverting it\nfrom other tasks. A changed mode of thought was also able to take\nexception to the view that the ties which bind men together came from a\ntranscendent order, which is now felt as an \"other\" world and is the\nsubject of doubt. At first, therefore, we are apt to think it a pure\ngain if modern society no longer concerns itself with these invisible\nbonds, and regards the union as arising solely and entirely out of the\nimmediate experience of life. For then there is nothing to hinder the\nbalanced development of all the relationships of men among themselves;\nthe social life serves no other end, but finds its task and happiness in\nitself, and in its actuality is disturbed by no kind of doubt.\n\nWith this deliverance from all external constraint, a positive advance\nof the life of society on the basis of the Modern Age is associated. A\nlife more free in conduct, and which through progress in the arts\nceaselessly expands, brings men nearer to one another, and forces them\ninto closer union; action and reaction accelerate each other. The\nopinions and strivings of the masses are determined more easily and\nexercise more influence; the whole and its influence upon the individual\nbecome incomparably stronger. At the same time, the energetic attention\nthat men bestow upon the surrounding reality throws into bold relief\nrelations which have existed from the earliest times, but which hitherto\nhave not been prominent, and enables them to acquire a greater value for\nlife. Since the old appears in a new light, and the new arises, diverse\nstreams of social life are formed, and through their diversity operate\nto the strengthening of the main tendency.\n\nModern Sociology shows the individual to be far more dependent upon the\nsocial environment, upon general conditions, than we are wont to assume\nfrom the first impression, which usually throws differences into relief\nand overlooks common traits, generally fails to pay sufficient attention\nto the growth of the individuals, and is too apt to take the positions\nwhich they possess as essentially the result of their own work. In\ncontrast to this, the one thing which now has power to impress us is\nthe fact that the dependence reaches back to the earliest beginnings;\nthat the individual has become what he has become through the\noverpowering influences of heredity, education, and environment.\nFurther, the conviction that the differences lie within ascertainable\nlimits, and that there is a certain average level throughout all the\nmultiplicity of life, is gaining a firmer hold. To ascertain these\naverage levels now becomes the chief problem of knowledge, and to\nrealise them the chief task of practical political provision. Inner\nchanges are also brought about. The fact that, with these changes,\nresponsibility, guilt, and desert are transferred more and more from the\nindividual to the society tends to call forth more humane sympathy and\nmore mildness of judgment, and tends to discredit the excessive\nself-esteem of a self-righteous Pharisaism. At the same time it\nconstitutes a powerful motive to work for the whole; to strive to raise\nthe whole, morally and physically; to develop a social morality and a\nstrong feeling of solidarity.\n\nTo the modern man, therefore, the life of the State advances through\nchanges in content and form. The State, which in the Middle Ages had to\nleave all problems of inner training to the Church, in its new function\nof culture State now assumes all tasks, influences the whole life of the\nindividual, and is confident in its power to transform our existence\nmore and more into a realm of reason. Along with this there is a strong\ntendency to place the State increasingly on the power and insight of\nindividuals; all through the nineteenth century this tendency won an\never more overwhelming power. The more activity we bestow upon a\nparticular sphere of work, the more valuable does it become to us, the\nnearer does it stand to our inner nature. Thus, the ancient mode of\nthought, that the individual is a mere member of the political organism,\nand that he receives his tasks and obtains his power from it, was able\nto be revived.\n\nWith this the stronger emphasis laid upon national peculiarities, and\nthe more definite self-assertion and more vigorous development of\nnations are associated. Formerly national character had been veiled\nand, as far as the spiritual ideals of humanity are concerned, as though\nlost. Now nations appear as points where the spiritual life manifests\nitself and concentrates distinctively. To work out their peculiarities\nclearly, and manfully to assert them in the competition of peoples,\npromises great gain for the organisation and energising of life; for the\nfirst time, the divine seems to pass into daily toil on earth.\n\nMost of all, the modern organisation of labour, with its enhancing of\ntechnique and its advance beyond the capacity of production of the mere\nindividual, heightens the power of impression of the picture as a whole.\nWork brings about a deliverance from the passivity of the subject; it\norganises itself into independent complexes, which develop into a state\nentirely foreign to our nature. It produces its own motive powers and\nnecessities, and requires from the individual the strictest obedience.\nThe performance of the individual attains a value only in definitely\nordered co-operation with others; it loses all worth if he attempts to\nignore this relation. This is shown with particular clearness in the\nevolution of the factory with its production by machinery. It is shown\nfurther in every specifically modern work in administrative government,\nin military organisation, in knowledge and education. Everywhere we find\ngreat organisations; an enormous growth in the capacity of the whole,\nbut a sinking of the individual to a mere link of the great chain, a\nproscribing of all individual will. If all thus depends upon the whole,\nthe success of endeavour and the happiness of life will be decided\nchiefly by the organisation of the whole. It is not to be wondered at,\nthen, if the antitheses which arise in reference to this organisation\nagitate people in the strongest degree; if a faith in the omnipotence of\npolitical and social forms grows up, and if over these the keenest fight\nrages.\n\nIn this connection there is no problem which gives rise to greater\ncomplications and severer conflicts than that in regard to the\npreservation and raising of the standard of material existence. If, in\ngeneral, we attribute incomparably more value to the material in life\nthan was done formerly, so here also the problems of modern labour reach\ntheir climax. The organisation and concentration of labour have made by\nfar their greatest progress in this matter; a gigantic accumulation of\ncapital on the one side and of labour power on the other has intensified\nto the uttermost the opposition between man and man. In this conflict\nmore than in any other the whole being of man comes into play; here,\ntherefore, the most powerful passions flame up. No wonder that, if the\nthought of a fundamental re-organisation rises to the surface, it wins\nan influence amounting to fascination, arouses the hope of an essential\nadvancement of the whole of human existence, and impels men to vigorous\nactivity.\n\nThus, then, this sphere, in which fact is regarded as principle, and in\nwhich the problem of the development of society is elevated to a\nposition of importance above all others, and seeks to impress its stamp\nupon the whole of life, is first and foremost. From this point of view\nthe organisation of society is the central problem of all culture, and a\ndistinctive social culture, a social system of life, is evolved. But\nthat which emerges at this point with especial power and clearness would\nnot have been able to win men so quickly and influence them so strongly\nif it did not constitute a high-water mark of a wider movement, of a\ngeneral tendency of the modern man to regard the social relation as\nbeing of the essence of life, and to shape life anew from this. Viewed\nhistorically, this tendency arose as a reaction against the practice of\nplacing the individual in the foreground, a practice which since the\nbeginning of the Modern Age had been resorted to in the most diverse\ndepartments of life. What was felt to be unconditionally right in\nopposition to the bondage of the Middle Ages has, in the course of time,\nshown a reverse side. Many painful experiences have led us to favour a\nmovement in the direction of the whole again; and so it comes about that\nall hope of amelioration is able to be regarded as inevitably bound up\nwith the complete victory of this movement.\n\nA distinctive social type of life can be formed and can strive for\nsupremacy only if great problems arise within society and if its\nposition in the whole of our life is capable of and in need of change.\nIt will soon be seen that the case is so in respect of both these\nthings; and also that two movements, one more general in kind, and\nanother more precise but also more uncertain as to its goal, are\nconnected.\n\nThe point at which the new development of life institutes a new demand\nis the relation of the individual to the means of existence and the\ngoods of culture. Formerly an aristocratic order preponderated, which\nallowed only a few to share in the abundance of these goods, while it\nwas only afterwards that the many were able to partake of the poor\nremains. In material, as in spiritual, things man was concerned less\nwith the equitable distribution of the possessions of humanity than with\nincreasing them. The matter of chief importance, and this with regard to\nquestions of inward culture also, appeared to be in some way to\nincorporate the contents and goods within the sphere of human existence,\nand to fix them there; the extension of these goods among men was a\nmatter of secondary consideration, and often one that was only very\nlightly thought of. The limitation to a small chosen class, indeed,\nseemed to be quite indispensable for a secure and worthy organisation of\nlife. Thus, this culture acquired its character at the highest levels of\nsociety, and from there descended in diminishing degrees to lower\nlevels: it was regarded as inevitable that in this descent much should\nbe lost, and that the less privileged classes must perforce be satisfied\nwith very little.\n\nA movement in opposition to this state of things arose in the first\nplace among the individuals who were placed in the background by such an\norganisation, and who, not convinced of the validity of the doctrine of\nthe immutability of their fate, began to make comparisons and to ask\nquestions. Their desire was not merely for more happiness, but for\nspiritual advance also. In humanity there is an energetic striving and\nadvance, and in this a far greater spirituality and a far keener thirst\nfor truth are often shown in the classes of the people who are\nstruggling upward and pressing forward than in those classes which from\nearly times have had possession of power and wealth and which are\nhampered by a feeling of self-satisfaction.\n\nThat which at first is striven for by merely a part of mankind acquires,\nthrough its inner necessities, a power over others also, and becomes a\nrequirement of the whole. We experience here what earlier was called the\npower of ideas in history, that is, the fact that in certain periods\ncertain thoughts and demands acquire an overwhelming power of\npenetration and impel men to a line of conduct which is even opposed to\ntheir special interests. We may so far speak of the supremacy of the\nsocial idea in the present, as not only in the disposition of\nindividuals but also through organisation and legislation there is an\nendeavour to bring help to the poor and the weak, to raise those who are\nstruggling upward, and to convey as directly as possible both material\nand spiritual goods to all who bear human features. It is not only that\nthis appears a matter of justice; a rejuvenation and an energising of\nthe whole of culture are also hoped for. Without a radical rejection of\nall that which in the traditional position has decayed, become alien, or\nis now artificial; without a deep-reaching simplification and a greater\nproximity to the soul, how could all partake of culture, and how could\nit become a concern of all? The old demand of leading educationalists,\nof Comenius and Rousseau, of Pestalozzi and Froebel, the desire for a\nrejuvenation of our culture antiquated as it is in many respects, seems\nto be approaching its fulfilment now that the matter is a concern of the\nwhole of mankind.\n\nHowever, this striving, which in itself cannot be rejected, enters upon\na narrow course and at the same time upon much that is problematical, in\nthat it unites with the positivistic tendencies of the age in the\nrejection of all invisible connections and in the restriction of life to\nthe experience of sense. Instead of the whole, we now have the average\nand the masses, and instead of a creation from the whole, a building up\nfrom below; the needs of the masses are the main motive power of life.\nBut as with the masses the chief questions are those of the physical\npreservation of life, and of economic existence, it seems as if, with\ntheir solution, with the deliverance from oppressing cares and necessity\nthrough a radical revolution, a complete state of happiness and a\nceaseless spiritual advance of humanity are assured. Material welfare,\nwhich in earlier organisations of life was so depreciated, in the new\nsystem becomes the matter of chief concern; it is regarded as that which\nmore than anything else leads to the development of every power and\nmakes culture the truth for the whole of humanity.\n\nThe life of society is thus seen to be full of problems. Nevertheless,\nthe position of society in our life as a whole has been changed and\nraised. We have become far more uncertain concerning our relation to\nultimate and universal reality; we doubt the possibility and the\nvalidity of first winning, through religion or speculation, a world\nbeyond human experience, of the conveying it to that experience, and\nfrom the point of view of such a world giving the human its light and\nsetting it its task. In short, the centre of life has changed from the\nobject to the subject; we know that we cannot abstract from our own\nnature our spiritual organisation, but that we carry it into every\naspect of the whole; that we see and form the world through man. With\nsuch a transition, the movement from man to world becomes the chief\nmovement of life; and the conception of man will decide the nature of\nthe conceptions of life and of reality. Henceforth greatness may be\nattributed to these only if human nature is capable of an advance beyond\nwhat it appears to be in the first impression. That, however, will\nscarcely be possible unless humanity is conceived as a whole and, with\nsuch a unity, has more power and depth than it has as it exists\nimmediately before us. This also will operate to the strengthening of\nthe social order, in which sense experience controls thought.\n\nThus, many different factors unite to make the condition of mankind as\nit is, that is, the state of society on the basis of experience, the\nstarting-point and final aim of all endeavour, and the relation of man\nto surrounding men the fundamental relation of his life. But, as in the\ncase of culture as a whole, the individual departments of life must also\nwin a distinctive character if the welfare of the social whole, the\nachievement for man and the influence on man, becomes the\nall-controlling task which sets the aim and points out the way for all\nactivity.\n\nIn this context science does not reveal hidden depths of things, but\naids man in winning power over appearances; it leads him to a more\nzealous and a more active life. Art does not lift him into an ideal\nworld; but, within experience, softens the pressure of existence and\nfills life with pure joys. Morality does not subject our conduct to an\ninvisible order, but directs man beyond himself to men around him; it\ndevelops the feeling of solidarity and raises the standard of the inner\nrelationships of society. For religion as the revelation of an \"other\"\nworld there is no room; this world shows in humanity an object worthy of\nreverence; so understood, religion also must work to the inner elevation\nof society.\n\nIn everything that which distinguishes the individual is thrust into the\nbackground to make way for that which is common; work has in the first\nplace to concern itself with that which is common to all. In that here\nscience makes man the chief study of man, it considers him especially as\na social being and finds its chief theme in the knowledge of social\nconditions. Similarly, the chief subject of art is not, as was formerly\nthe case, the doings and experience of individuals, but the forceful\nrepresentation of these social conditions. The raising of the general\nlevel becomes the chief care of all practical activity, as also of\neducation. According to this scheme the individual is of consequence and\nof worth only through those elements of the common life which he brings\nto expression, and through the way in which he reacts upon that life.\nThe industry of universal history is understood, therefore, not from\nthat which relates primarily to individuals, but from that relating to\nthe movements and destinies of society.\n\nSuch an estimate of the whole involves a conviction which seldom finds\nexpression, but which silently exerts its influence everywhere: the\nbelief in a summation of reason by the organisation of individuals into\na whole. Only a belief of this kind is able to establish the supremacy\nof the mass over against the individuals, also in spiritual things; only\nsuch a belief is able to justify the hope of a victory of the good in\nthe sphere of humanity.\n\nThe net result of all these ideas and tendencies is a co-ordinated\nsystem of thought, a distinctive type of life. In this system man is\nfirst and foremost a member of society; he originates in it; he remains\nin it; and his activity carries implications far beyond his own life.\nNot community of labour only joins him with his fellows, but also the\ngeneral tone of thought and feeling. This type of life is not one\nwithout sacrifice; for it has to give up many things which in earlier\ntimes seemed a secure possession and were a source of joy. Yet these\nthings were only illusions which vanished, and mankind seems to find a\ncompensation, more than equivalent for all that has been lost, in that\nit is more closely united and through this wins new powers; and\nhenceforth out of its own capacity can venture to take up the struggle\nagainst every irrationality of existence, and to advance its own\nwell-being without constraint. A life is therefore evolved, conscious of\nits limits, but at the same time active and courageous.\n\nIn this manner, then, transcending all subjective opinions and wishes, a\ndistinctive social culture has arisen, and its growth and results are\nclearly evident to us. Through combination of forces and through\ndiligent activity on behalf of one another, and this with the aid of a\nhighly evolved technique, we have brought about a magnificent elevation\nof our being; necessity and disease have been successfully fought\nagainst; the standard of education and the amount and kind of joy in\nlife have been raised in many ways; in life and suffering men have been\ndrawn together inwardly and associated together with a greater degree of\nsolidarity. If one accepts the creed of the socialistic movement in the\nnarrower sense: that human society can be placed on a new basis and at\nthe same time raised essentially in its achievement, one can conceive\nthat social culture may grow to the comprehensiveness of culture in\ngeneral, and arouse the hope of a kingdom of reason among men.\n\n * * * * *\n\nBut here also there is a limit set to things, not from without, but from\nwithin; not from a rationalising criticism, but through the actual facts\nof the life of humanity. This limit appears with especial clearness when\nwe consider the relation of the individual, together with his work, to\nthe society in which he stands. If social culture should be regarded as\nabsolute culture, the individual must spend himself solely and entirely\nin relation to his environment; all his activity and endeavour must be\nexerted in achievement for this culture--must, indeed, be regarded as a\nmere part of a common work. In such a system man could never attain an\nindependent position and a superior right in opposition to society. Let\nus examine whether the experience of history establishes the truth of\nthis system or whether it does not much rather show the opposite to be\nmore correct.\n\nIt was only in the earliest state of culture, and under very simple\nconditions of life, that the individual was solely and entirely bound up\nwith the social organism, simply a member of family, of tribe, and such\nlike; entirely swayed by custom, authority, and tradition. All further\nevolution was a differentiation and led to the greater independence of\nthe individual. There came a time, however, when, in contrast with his\nmere membership of the society, the individual felt himself to have\narrived at a state of maturity; when he questioned the right of the\ntraditional order, and ultimately found himself coming into opposition\nwith the whole of society; his own thought thus became the chief basis\nof his life and the measure of all things. At first that may have\nappeared an impious break and a destructive negation; in reality, the\npositive results which have been thus effected could never have been\nproduced out of a mere revolt. For, a deepening of life in all its\nbranches went hand in hand with the individual's attainment of\nindependence; now, for the first time, Religion developed a personal\nreligious experience, and Art filled man's whole soul; now only did\nScience set a distinctive world of thought in opposition to the\ntraditional presentation; and so the whole of life gained enormously in\nindependence, mobility, and depth. How could this point have been\nreached if an immediate relation to reality had not emerged in the soul\nof man; if an inner world had not been formed from this reality, as the\nrepresentative of which the individual might feel superior to the\nsociety and, from inner necessities, criticise the prevailing condition\nof things? The fact is that all deepening of culture, all awakening of\nlife to self-consciousness, is a rising above the life of society, a\nsummoning of the individual to creative activity. Never have real\nadvances in Religion, Science, and Art, or great transformations of\nlife, originated out of a combination of the activities of the majority.\nOnly in isolated cases has an incomparable individuality, supreme in the\nentire range of creative activity, been reached, and spiritual tasks\nbeen treated as ends in themselves, without which there is nothing\ngreat. Only out of the necessity of spiritual self-preservation, only as\nan overcoming of intolerable contradictions within our own being, could\ncreative activity find a sure direction and a lofty self-confidence in\norder to lead the whole of humanity along new paths. The individuals in\nwhom this was accomplished were, to be sure, under many influences from\nhistorico-social life; but, to overlook the essential elevation above\nthe entire domain of merely human interests into a realm of\nself-conscious truth, which was accomplished by these individuals, one\nmust confuse the conditions with spiritual activity itself.\n\nAs this spiritual life has transcended social life from the beginning,\nin the same way its effects are by no means exhausted in that life. It\nhas, it is true, exerted its activity upon the social environment, and,\nafter the initial opposition has been overcome, has often been\nsuperabundantly honoured; but even so, it has been accepted in isolated\nand external relations rather than in the whole of its being, and in its\nappropriation through society it is apt to lose what is best in it. Ever\nanew, even after centuries and centuries, it has attracted aspiring\nsouls to itself, and has always been able to offer something new to\nthem; in fact, in its essence it stands not in time but above it. The\nmore such genuine creative activity and production in all its spheres\nbecome unified, the more a kingdom of truth spreads like an arch over\nthe whole machinery of human history, and, measured by the standards of\nthat truth, human standards are seen to be extremely low, like the size\nof the earth when contrasted with the region of the fixed stars. This\nrealm of eternal truth, however, reveals itself immediately only to the\nsoul of the individual, who must convey it to society.\n\nSuch an estimate of spiritual depth in the individual is quite\ncompatible with the fact that in the course of history the individual\nhas often fallen into utter uncertainty; has felt destitute and lonely,\nand has passionately sought a support in society. For the individual may\ncut himself adrift from the invisible connections in which his greatness\nis rooted; he may base himself on his own isolated power and groping\nintellect. When he has indeed done this, he has soon perceived and\nexperienced his insufficiency; after such experience he has longed for\nthe building up of a new society by spiritual activity, and when this\nhas been attained he has fled to it as to a sure haven. Men strove for\nsuch a society in the later period of Antiquity; one such was founded by\nEarly Christianity, by which the centre of life was transferred from the\nindividual to the society. But in this transition the individual did not\nagain become simply a member of society. For the new union that was\nsought could not come to men from without, but could proceed only as a\nresult of spiritual endeavour; for its origin and in the early stages\nof its life it required great creative personalities of the kind of\nAugustine; for its preservation it needed appropriation by individuals,\nwho unless they made an independent decision could not come to a\ncomplete knowledge of the truth. Wherever such individual activity\nlanguished, the inwardness of life at once became weak; the whole\nthreatened to lose its spiritual nature and to be transformed into mere\nmechanism. But after, in the course of history, the individual has\ndeveloped so far as experience shows him to have done; after that, as\nmicrocosm, he has found an immediate relation to reality and to himself,\nhis transcendence may for a time be obscured, but he can never be\ndeprived of it. As the individual has grown strong only as the\nrepresentative and champion of a culture that is spiritual, as opposed\nto one that is merely human, so at the same time that spiritual culture\nasserts itself and criticises all which limits man to his own sphere.\nAfter having attained a greater comprehensiveness, a pure\nself-existence, and other standards toilsomely enough, a narrowly social\nculture must be absolutely intolerable to us.\n\nThis assertion is valid especially in regard to the social culture of\nthe present. That culture, as we saw, makes significant and justifiable\ndemands which have arisen from historical conditions; but its right\ngives place to error, if these demands are made the central point of\nlife as a whole, and everything else subordinated to them. The\nunsatisfactoriness of this system of culture and the impossibility of\nachieving its aims would be still more manifest if it did not constantly\nsupplement its own results out of the other organisations of life, and\ndid not boldly and unjustifiably idealise the man of experience.\n\nThis social culture may be shortly described in some of its tendencies:\n(1) Work for society was the compelling motive in the shaping of this\nlife of social utility. Some such social principle may suffice for the\ndistribution of goods; it never suffices for their original production.\nWe saw how spiritual experience can arise only from the compulsion of an\ninner self-preservation, in which man does not think in the least of\nthe effects on others, but of himself and the object. Only that effort\nwhich has sprung up without regard to its mere utility has been able to\nachieve great things. If, therefore, merely social culture rigidly binds\nup vital energy with the direction of all thoughts on the effect, in the\nlong run it must seriously degrade life. Can we deny that in the chief\ndepartments of the spiritual life the present already clearly shows\ntendencies to such a degradation? And can this be otherwise when we only\nmore widely diffuse the inherited possession, but are unable to increase\nit through our own activity?\n\n(2) Social culture makes the judgment of the society the test of all\ntruth and requires from the individual a complete subordination. It can\ndo this, as we saw, only under the assumption that reason is summed in a\njudgment by the people as a whole; but, in face of the experiences of\nhistory and the impressions of the present time, can this assumption be\nratified? Upon its emergence, truth has nearly always been championed by\na minority so small as to be hardly discernible; and what in its case is\ncalled victory is usually nothing else than the transforming of the\nstruggle from an external into an internal one. He who continues firm in\nhis faith in the victory of truth does so because he trusts, not so much\nin the wisdom of the majority as in a reason transcending all that is\nempirically human, and which begets a truth with power to constrain. The\npresent gives us the opportunity of testing this assertion by an\nexample. We see movements of the masses in plenty, but where do we see\ngreat spiritual creations arise from the resulting chaos? Even Socialism\nin the narrower sense has to thank but a few men for its vital power and\ncharacter, as, for example, Marx; the masses are indeed a condition and\nan environment, but never as such the bearers of creative activity.\n\n(3) Where man, as he is, governs all thought, his well-being, his\ncomplacency, an existence as free from care as possible, and as rich as\npossible in pleasure, will become the highest of all aims. But would not\none find an inner emptiness, a monotony, even more intolerable than any\nsuffering if this aim were reached and life were freed from all pain\nand necessity? Intelligible as it is that, to the classes whose life is\nspent in hard struggle against necessity and care, the deliverance from\nthese appears the highest good and an assurance of complete happiness,\nit is just as unintelligible that anyone who is conscious of the work of\nuniversal history and the inner movement of humanity can share such a\nbelief. For that movement has given rise to difficult problems and\nsevere conflicts within the soul of man; a wrestling for a truth and a\ncontent of life, where we now drift hither and thither on the surface of\nappearance; a longing for infinity and eternity, where now a finitude\nand a past fascinate and charm us; a clashing together of freedom and\ndestiny, of nature and spirit. The tendencies and tasks which this\nmovement produces may for a time be thrust into the background, but they\ncontinually reappear and claim their right. It is a foolish undertaking\nto try to make man happy by directing him to give up what is distinctive\nin him, and to give his striving a less worthy character.\n\n(4) From a radical improvement of the conditions of life, the\nsocialistic way of thinking expects a continuous advance of culture and\nan increasing ennoblement of man. To some extent this expectation would\nbe justified if a strong spiritual impulse and a sure tendency towards\nthe good were found everywhere; if it were only a matter of opening the\ndoor to an inner striving that was everywhere operative; only a matter\nof removing restrictions. The actual picture of human conditions\ncorresponds but little to such an optimism. How small a place spiritual\nimpulse has in human conduct and effort! How wearisome to the\nindifferent and reluctant average man any thought of spiritual goods\nbecomes, and what severe restrictions moral development meets with in\nselfishness, avarice, and jealousy! The impressions which reality gives\nspeak too plainly in regard to this for even the believers in\nsocialistic culture to be able to hide the facts from themselves; but it\nis noteworthy enough that not that which they see with their eyes and\ngrasp with their hands determines their judgment, but that which,\nunconsciously, they add to it: an invisible humanity, a greatness and a\ndignity of human nature, a nobility in the depths of the soul;\nconceptions for which, in this context, there is not the least\njustification.\n\nAll these considerations show clearly enough the limits of simply\nsocialistic culture, and the sharp contradictions of its adherents. This\nculture only throws man back increasingly upon the merely human, and\nunmercifully holds him firmly fixed in it. It chains him to his own\nappearance and suppresses all tendencies towards depth. It knows nothing\nof life's consciousness of itself; it knows no inner problems, no\ninfinite development of the soul; it cannot acknowledge a common life of\nan inner kind, but must derive all from external relations. At the same\ntime it excludes all understanding of the movement of universal history;\nfor the chief content of this movement constitutes just those problems\nwhich Socialism regards as foolish delusions. To be sure, the striving\nafter an inner independence of life has brought much error with it, and\nit may involve much that is problematical. But that a longing after such\nindependence should arise at all and prove itself able to call forth so\nmuch endeavour sufficiently demonstrates that man is more than a mere\nbeing of society; more than a member of a social organism.\n\nUltimately, socialistic culture presupposes, in its own development, a\ngreater depth of life than it is itself able to produce. It can make so\nmuch out of its data only because it assumes in them a more\ncomprehensive and a deeper world of thought. Like Naturalism, Socialism\nreaches a tolerable conclusion only by much plagiarism from the old\nIdealism, before the principal conceptions of which it crosses itself as\nbefore something atrocious.\n\nThis inner inconsistency of socialistic culture, its remaining bound up\nwith something which inwardly it contradicts, is most plainly shown by\nthe historical experience of the Modern Age. Men were at first led to\ntake up the movements towards the strengthening of society chiefly by\nthe expectation that the invisible forces in human existence would be\ninvigorated, and by the hope that the inner life of men would be raised.\nThe more they have cut themselves adrift from these invisible\nconnections and have placed themselves simply on the basis of experience\nthe more have they lost in spiritual content.\n\nThe movement towards the modern free State arose in association with\nreligious strivings; the desire for political independence attached\nitself to and inwardly grew from the longing for more complete equality\nbefore God. The more this relation to Religion and, further, to an\ninvisible realm receded into the background, the more difficult did it\nbecome to guard the striving for freedom from being diverted in the\ninterests of individuals, classes, and parties; the more did the\nmovement inwardly lose by external expansion. We saw that the idea of\nnationality acquired power from the conviction that there results in an\nindependent people an individualisation of the spiritual and divine\nwhich is the first thing to ensure to existence a definite character and\na firm support. So long as this conviction predominated, each people had\na great inner task in reaching the highest point of development of its\nnature, and, what is more important, did not need to direct its energies\nupon externals. With the obscuring or the complete surrender of this\nspiritual foundation, a blind adoration of one's own country, an\nincrease of unfruitful pride of race, a passionate struggle for external\nexpansion and power, inevitably accompanied by the surrender of humanity\nand justice, threatens us.\n\nWhen in the nineteenth century the modern idea of the State again came\ninto currency, the State came to be regarded--as, for example, in the\nsystem of Hegel--as the realisation of an absolute reason, and desired\nto be honoured as something \"earthly divine.\" Its leading\nadministrators, however, men of the kind of Altenstein, were imbued with\nthe philosophic spirit; were men who could be regarded as philosophers\nin Plato's sense. To-day we still hear of such spiritual bases of the\nState, in syllabuses of courses of study; but we count so little on a\nphilosophical training that when anyone gives any sign of such a\ntraining he is regarded with astonishment as a rare exception. Even the\nsocialistic movement in the narrower sense, the longing for an economic\nrevolution, at first stood in close connection with philosophical\nendeavours, and the hope of an inner ennobling of humanity, the hope of\nraising the whole of culture, worked in it as a powerful motive force.\nMore and more, out of this a mere desire for power and enjoyment has\ndeveloped, a passionate struggle of class against class, of interest\nagainst interest, and how this might lead to an inner elevation of\nhumanity is not apparent. The more socialistic culture, in its pressing\nforward, has cut itself loose from a richer and more inward culture and\nhas trusted solely to its own resources, the more distinct have its\nlimitations become, the more has its incapacity to include the whole of\nhuman existence been made evident.\n\nTo assert this does not mean to depreciate the significance of the facts\nwhich the social tendency has made us conscious of and the tasks which\nit has imposed upon us. Not only do the advance into prominence of the\neconomic side of life, and the desire for a more energetic realisation\nof a social organisation in this direction, remain unimpeached, but\nthere are demands of an imperative kind which extend beyond the scope of\nthis narrow conception. The increasing isolation and separation of\nindividuals make us feel the desire for reunion more and more strongly.\nMan, with that which is near him and in him, acquires an ever greater\nsignificance for the shaping of our life and our world; from no other\npoint of departure than from him can we attempt to reach the depths of\nreality and from these to build up a realm of reason.\n\nSocialistic culture, however, treats these problems, to which it gives\nrise, far too externally and too meanly to hold out any hope that its\nmethod can lead to their solution; and so, as we see it immediately\nbefore us, it brings truth and error into a melancholy mixture. Only a\nbroader conception of life could bring about a differentiation and give\nto each factor its right. In this case also the promised solution of the\nproblem is seen to be itself a problem.\n\n\n3. THE SYSTEM OF \u00c6STHETIC INDIVIDUALISM\n\nThe naturalistic and socialistic tendencies unite in the modern life of\nculture for action in common. How near they stand to each other,\nnotwithstanding all their differences, our accounts of them will have\nshown. Not only do both make the world of sense the sole world of man,\nbut both also find life entirely in the relation to the environment, be\nit nature or society. Again, both maintain that all happiness arises\nfrom work upon this environment, whether the work be in the main\nscientific and technical, or practical and political. Thus the culture\nof both systems bears throughout the character of a culture of work; in\none as in the other great complexes of work arise, and draw the\nindividual to themselves; all trouble and effort are for the sake of the\nresult; in both a restless progressive movement surrounds us and directs\nall reflection and thought to a better future. With such a tendency we\nhave grown closer to the environment and we have ascribed more value to\nthe world and to life. With an ever-increasing activity, a proud\nself-consciousness has developed in humanity.\n\nBut the limitations and defects of such a culture, centred as it is upon\nresults, could not remain concealed. The age, alert and fond of\nreflecting upon its own nature, has been compelled more and more to\nperceive the negation that accompanied the assertion made in that\nsystem. The striving for results alone made care for the soul\nimpossible; the being fitted into a complex whole impaired the\ndevelopment to complete individuality. The more industrial and social\nactivities have become specialised, the less significant has that part\nof human existence become which is embodied in the individual as such,\nthe more have all aspects of his nature other than those involved in\nhis work degenerated. The continual thought of the future, the impetuous\nmovement ever onward and onward, also threatens to destroy all\nappreciation of the present, all self-consciousness and independence of\nlife. If we exist merely in order to serve as means and instruments to a\nsoulless process of culture, does not the whole enormous movement\nfinally amount to nothing, if it is not experienced and appropriated?\n\nOnce such questions arise and make man concerned about the meaning and\nthe happiness of his life, a sudden change must soon take place. Man may\nat all times fall into error concerning the aims of the culture of work;\nindeed, concerning work itself. It may appear to him as something which,\noriginally his own creation, has broken loose from him, placed itself in\nopposition to him, enslaved him, and finally, like a gigantic spider,\nthreatens to suck his life's blood. From this point of view it may be\nregarded as the most important of all tasks again to become master of\nwork, and to preserve a life inwardly conscious of itself, in contrast\nwith the tendency of work to occupy itself solely with externals; to\nrealise a true present in contrast with the restless hurry onward and\nonward; a quietness and a depth of the soul in contrast with work's\nbustle and agitation. To those with such a conviction the culture of\nwork must seem sordid, secular, profane, and in contrast a longing for\nmore inspiration, more soul, more permanent splendour of life will\narise.\n\nMany movements of this kind make themselves apparent in the present; the\nlonging for a return of life to itself, for more joy and more depth in\nlife, grows ever stronger and stronger. Of all these movements, however,\none stands out with definite achievement--one which, upon the basis of\nthe present and with the means of sense experience, seeks a remedy\nwhich, while in these two aspects it shares the general initial\nassumption of the culture of work, within the limits of this assumption\nis entirely opposed to this culture of work. We mean the system of\nSubjectivism and Individualism. In that this system is blended with a\nkind of art of its own, and gains strength from this, it boldly\nundertakes to govern and shape our whole existence.\n\nHe who wishes to rise above the culture of work without transcending the\nregion of experience will scarcely discover any other basis than the\nindividual with his self-consciousness, his \"being-for-self.\" For,\nhowever far work with its influences may penetrate into the innermost\nrecesses of the soul, there always remains something which is able to\nresist it. Something original seems to spring up here, which fits into\nno scheme and bows down to no external power.\n\nIf, therefore, a newly aroused longing for greater immediacy and\nhappiness in life drives man once more to the subjective and to the\nindividual, he can emphasise this factor conceptually in order to\ndepreciate the other systems of life. For, whether the individual\nbelongs to an invisible world of thought or to a visible structure, his\ntask and his worth is then assigned to him by the whole; his activity\nwill have a definite direction determined by the whole, and his power\nwill be called into play only so far as it fitted into the framework of\nthe whole organisation. If all such relation to the whole is discarded,\nand the individual becomes bold enough to place himself simply upon his\nown capacity, and to acknowledge no other standard than his own\ndecision, an infinite course seems to open up before him. What lies in\nhim is now able to develop with complete freedom, and he need take\nneither a visible nor an invisible order into anxious consideration. The\nindividual, raised to such sovereignty, will make far more out of\nhimself, and will mean far more than the narrow and often over-awed\nindividual of earlier ages. True, even in earlier times opposition from\nthe individual was not lacking, but the circumstances of the Modern Age\nare especially conducive to his development and recognition. We know how\nthe modern man extricated himself from the ties which bound him, and how\nhe boldly placed himself in opposition to the world. We know how much\nmore freely thought rules in modern life; how much more deeply an\nover-subtle reflection penetrates everywhere and takes all stability\nfrom things. We know, too, how the external form of civilisation, with\nits acceleration of intercourse, and its development in a thousand\ndirections, sets the individual more free. Is it to be wondered at if\nthe modern individual regards himself as the centre and undertakes to\nshape the whole of life from himself?\n\nThe individual can attain complete independence only when he liberates\nhis soul from all external connections, from every objective relation,\nand, as a free subject, simply lives his own states of consciousness.\nThis is achieved above all in the disposition--transcending all form and\nshape and bound to no particular object--which has obtained an\nindependent position chiefly as a result of the Romantic movement. In\nthis a complete detachment of life, an inward infinity, and a complete\nindependence seem attained; every individual has his own course and his\nown truth; no limit is set to life, no command given, but he can with\nthe utmost freedom develop every impulse and exhaust its possibilities\naccording to its nature. Thus a life arises, profuse and extremely\nactive: a life fine and delicate in nature; a life which is in no way\ndirected beyond itself.\n\nBut all agitation, profuseness, and refinement could hardly have\nprevented this emotional life from becoming hollow, if, when it turned\nto the individual, it had not united to itself another movement, which\nis flowing with a powerful current through the age. We mean the movement\ntowards art, and beyond that towards an \u00e6sthetic conception of life.\nFrom ancient times there has always been an antithesis of an ethical and\nan \u00e6sthetical fashioning of life: of a preponderance on the one hand of\nthe active, on the other hand of the contemplative relation to reality.\nEmphasis on the activity of man has led to the formation in modern\nsystems of life of a culture of work and utility. An \u00e6sthetical,\ncontemplative mode of thought can with good reason feel itself superior\nto that culture. In contrast to utility, it promises beauty; over\nagainst the heaviness and weariness of the way of life of a culture of\nwork, it promises a joy and a lightness; in opposition to effort,\nhurriedly and continually striving further and further, it promises an\nindependent self-consciousness, and an inward calm. But, as this\nmovement towards art blends with that towards the subject it lapses into\na narrow course and assumes a distinctive character. Here, art has less\nto comprehend the object than to stimulate and please the subject; it\nwill strive less after content and a further construction than with\nlyrical cadences, to give expression to changing moods. It has a\ndifficult task given to it which can only approximately be solved--the\ntask of expressing something fundamentally inexpressible and resisting\nall attempts to give it form. But in that art undertakes such an\nimpossibility, and exerts its power to the uttermost, it brings about a\nrefinement of the soul as well as an enrichment of expression. It\nenables much to be grasped and comprehended which, without it, passes\nlike a fleeting shadow. It permits the observation of the most delicate\nvibrations of the soul, and throws light into depths which would\notherwise be inaccessible.\n\nA distinctive type of life is thus formed from the side of literature\nand art, and this feels securely supreme over all the embarrassments of\nthe culture of work and of the masses. The centre of life is transferred\ninto the inner tissue of self-consciousness. With the development of\nthis self-consciousness, life appears to be placed entirely on its own\nresources and directed simply towards itself. Through all change of\ncircumstances and conditions it remains undisturbed; in all the infinity\nof that which happens to it, it feels that it is supreme. All external\nmanifestation is valuable to it as an unfolding of its own being; it\nnever experiences things, but only itself--that is, its own passive\nstates of consciousness--in the things.\n\nA life of such a kind gives rise, in different directions, to\ndistinctive tendencies, which, through their antithesis to the\ntraditional forms, are sharply accentuated. This system thinks\nespecially to turn the whole of human existence into something\npositive, to limit it on none of its sides, to raise it everywhere to\nactivity, joy, and pleasure. In the older systems of life, especially in\nthe religious, it finds far too much feeble renunciation, far too much\nsad negation: such a depreciation of life is henceforth to give way to a\ncomplete and joyful affirmation. But an affirmation appears to be\npossible because in this system, through that reference to and\nexcitement of subjectivity, all that in any way affects man is\ntransformed in activity and advance; because before all else the subject\nfeels its own life in every experience and takes pleasure in this. It\nmust be added that the self-refinement of life, its mobility and\ndelicacy, free it from all the heaviness of existence, and that the free\nplay of forces which exist here transforms the whole of existence into\nsomething lightly poised. We find this to be especially the case when we\nturn to art, which joins beauty to power, or, rather, strengthens life\nin itself through its embodiment in the beautiful.\n\nThis free, joyous, and as it would seem purely self-conscious life is\nthroughout of an aristocratic and individual character. In that it is\nadapted to the old experience, that to only a few is given the power and\nthe disposition for independent creation and independent life, it\naddresses itself to these few and summons them to the greatest possible\ndevelopment of the individuality of their nature, to the most decisive\ndetachment from the characterless average of the masses. For, without a\ncompletely developed consciousness of individuality, without an\nenergetic differentiation and isolation, life does not seem to attain\nits greatest height. Thus the matter is one of making all the relations\nand all the externals of life as individual as possible. Everything\nwhich places the development of life under universal standards, and,\nthrough these, limits that development, is rejected as an unwarrantable\nlimitation and an intolerable restriction. This individualising of our\nexistence extends also to the matter of our relation to time. One moment\nmay not be sacrificed to another; the present may not be degraded to the\nstatus of being a mere preparation for the future, but every moment\nshould be an end in itself, and, with this, life is considered as being\nsolely in the present. And so life is a ceaseless change, a perpetual\nself-renewal, a continuous transition; but it is just this which\npreserves to life its youthful freshness and gives to it the capacity to\nattract through every new charm. Hence this system presents the most\ndefinite contrast to the interminable chain and the gigantic\nconstruction which the culture of work makes out of the activities of\nthe individuals.\n\n\u00c6sthetic Individualism appears most distinctive in the way it represents\nthe relation between the spiritual and the sensuous. It cannot take its\nattention from the external world, in order to centre it upon human\nperception, without strengthening the psychical. But, as its own system\nis based upon sense experience, it is impossible for it to acknowledge\nan independent spirituality and to contrast it with the sensuous; the\nspirituality which it recognises always remains bound and blended with\nthe sensuous. For it an entirely mutual interpenetration is the highest\nideal, a spiritualising of the sensuous, and a sensualising of the\nspiritual to an exactly equivalent degree. This high estimate of the\nsensuous, and the endeavour to harmonise the spiritual with it, put this\nnew system of life in the sharpest opposition to the older systems,\nespecially to religious Idealism, in which the supremacy of the\nspiritual is essential.\n\nFrom such a basal character this system evolves a distinctive relation\nto the individual values and spheres of life. Artistic literary creation\nbecomes the soul of life; the source of the influences for the\nfashioning of a new man. The social, political, sphere is reduced to the\nlevel of a mere outside world, which urges less to activity on our own\npart than provokes a sceptical and critical attitude. The lack of\nattention to all that which fits man into a common order, be it into the\nState with its laws, or the civic community with its customs and\narrangements, permits the free relation of individual to individual in\nsocial contact, friendship and love, to develop so much more\nforcefully. In particular, it is the inter-relationship of the sexes,\nwith its many-sidedness and its inseparable interweaving of spirituality\nwith sensuousness, which occupies thought and dominates literary\nproduction. Strike out the erotic element from specifically modern\nliterature, and how insignificant the remainder would appear! It is also\nin the relation of the sexes that this scheme of life insists on the\nfullest freedom. There is a marked tendency to regard an acknowledgment\nof fixed standards and of traditional morals in this connection as a\nsign of weakness and of a narrow-minded way of thinking.\n\nSince this scheme seeks to realise an \u00e6sthetic conception of life and an\nartistic culture in opposition to all the restraint of tradition and\nenvironment, it will come into particularly severe conflict with\ntraditional religion and morality. It must reject religion, or at least\nwhat hitherto has been called religion, because, with its blending\ntogether of the spiritual and the sensuous in a single world, it can by\nno means acknowledge a world of independent spirituality; its thought is\nmuch too \"monistic\" for that. It must reject religion also for the\nreason that, with its immediate affirmation of life, it cannot in the\nleast understand the starting-point of religion, the experience and\nperception of harsh inner contradictions in our existence. Religion,\nwith all the heroism that it truly shows, is here regarded as a mere\nlowering of vital energy; a chimera which pleases the weak.\n\nIn relation to morality the matter is not much different. A foundation\nof morality in the necessity of its own nature is lacking in this\nsystem. What motive could move a man who whole-heartedly accepted\n\u00c6sthetic Individualism to acknowledge something external to the subject\nas a standard, and in accordance with this standard to put a check upon\nhis natural impulses? Indeed, with the denial of spiritual activity and\nthe division of the world into for and against, the entire antithesis of\ngood and evil loses its meaning and its justification. Reality appears\nfrom the point of view of this system to be rent in twain in an\nunwarrantable manner at the command of a human authority. What is\nusually called morality is considered to be only a statute of the\ncommunity, a means by which it seeks to rob the individual of his\nindependence and to subordinate him to itself.\n\nAll this reasoning presents itself as an offspring of our own time, and\nwishes to establish the correctness of its claims on its own ground\nthrough its results. Yet it by no means lacks historical relations:\noften in the course of the centuries the subject has shaken off every\nconstraint and sought a solution to life's problems in its own realm.\nThis happened, first among the Sophists; then in a form less marked and\nwith more direct attention to happiness in Epicureanism; later, in proud\nexaltation and in a titanic struggle with the world, in the Renaissance;\nand again in a more delicate and more contemplative manner in the\nRomantic period. Tendencies from all these operate in the \u00c6sthetic\nIndividualism of the present time and enrich it in many ways, though\ntheir contributions are not always free from contradiction. But, even\nwith these historical elements, \u00c6sthetic Individualism is essentially a\nmodern product; and it cannot be denied that it has won a great power in\nthe present; a movement of culture in this direction is unmistakeable.\nIt is the very nature of this scheme of life not to hasten to a definite\nform, and for this reason it does not manifest itself with very definite\nfeatures; but, with invisible power, it is everywhere present and\ncreates a spiritual atmosphere from which it is difficult to withdraw\nourselves. Notwithstanding all the attacks it is subjected to and the\ndoubts as to its validity, it draws power continually from both the main\ntendencies which it unites; from the evolution of the subject and from\nthe growth of art. Thus, here again we are concerned not with mere\nsubjective willing and wishing, but with an actual movement in universal\nhistory.\n\nWhether this movement be the primary and the all-dominant remains to be\nexamined by consideration of the total possessions of humanity. Such an\nexamination is in this case peculiarly difficult, because in\nIndividualism and Subjectivism diverse forms mingle together and give to\nthe movement very different levels. There is, therefore, an obvious\ndanger that, viewing these forms from the position of an average level,\nat which we may attempt to arrive, we may judge one too severely and\nanother too leniently. And yet we cannot dispense with the assumption of\nsuch an average level; only, it must not be applied mechanically to the\nindividual forms which are so numerous.\n\nIn forming our judgment in this matter, it is necessary in the first\nplace to distinguish the aims and the methods of the scheme of life.\nThere can hardly be any doubt or dispute concerning the aims. For, if we\nare called to give to life an independence, a content and a value; to\nraise it to complete power; to press forward from anxious negation to\njoyful affirmation; to reduce the monotony of existence; to organise the\nwhole realm of individuality so that it shall be fully clear; and if, at\nthe same time, the fact of the degeneration of the inner life through a\nculture of work lends to such demands the impressiveness and the voice\nof a present need, it is difficult to see how this system is to be\neffectively opposed. \u00c6sthetic Individualism here appears as the champion\nof truths which may be obscured for a time, but which, nevertheless,\ncontinually gain in significance in human evolution as a whole. A\nfurther question is whether its aims, which cannot be rejected, are\nattainable along the ways which Individualism follows and beyond which\nit is not able to go; whether the means suffice for the attainment of\nthe end. If this should not be the case, we are in presence of a great\ndifficulty, in that something, in itself of the highest necessity, is\ndesired, but is desired in a way which not only is inadequate to the\naim, but directly contradicts it.\n\nAnd yet that is how the matter really stands. It is essential to\nIndividualism--with this it stands or falls--that it lead to an\nindependent life, to a self-consciousness; that it transform our whole\ncondition into something of positive value on the basis of sense\nexperience. That the actual condition of human reality, the nature of\nhuman experience, inexorably resists such a transformation, and that on\nthis account the individualistic scheme of life is contradictory, we\nintend to indicate more in detail.\n\nMan desires a self-conscious life, a deliverance from all external ties,\na removal of all oppressions. This desire is a lofty one, but one which,\nas things are, is very difficult of attainment. For not only in what\nhappens to us, but also in the innermost depths of the soul--in our\nspiritual constitution--we are bound up with an overwhelming and\nimpenetrable world. The mechanism of nature as well as the organisation\nof society surrounds and visibly and invisibly coerces us. At first\nsight we are no more than parts of an immense whole, and appear to be\ncompletely determined by that which happens in this whole; we come from\nit and sink back into it, and every moment we are dependent upon that\nwhich takes place around us. What is Individualism able to do against\nsuch forces, and what does it succeed in achieving towards life's\nattainment of independence? The means it employs are the arousing of an\nunrestrained mood, and the withdrawal of life to the greatest possible\nconcentration in its own passive states of consciousness. Because by\nthese means man is in some measure relieved from the oppression of\nthings, he imagines himself to be fully free. But is he free simply\nbecause he appears to himself to be so; free, to take the example of\nSpinoza, in the way in which the stone thrown up into the air might\nduring its motion suppose itself to be free? As a matter of fact, as\neveryday experience shows us, it is just in his moods that man is least\nstable and least lord of his own soul, and that the most diverse\ncircumstances, physical and psychical, visible and invisible, great and\nsmall, influence and compel him. The transitoriness of appearances,\nwhich form the matter of fact as far as moods are concerned, is lacking\nin all firm relation, all inner construction of life; for nothing is\nmore mobile, nothing more subject to sudden changes, than mood--nothing\nexcept the surface of the rolling sea, or a reed shaking in the wind.\nThe life of mood is, in reality, a purely superficial life; a projection\nof the psychical nature on to the surface of the immediate passive\nstates of consciousness. Life in this case attains no depth, content, or\nindependence, but only subjective opinion, the mere semblance of\nindependence. We shall see that Individualism so persistently offers the\nsemblance instead of the real thing that it has come to believe that\nwith the production of the semblance it has acquired the reality. Life\ncan only attain a real independence when it has been widened to a realm\nin itself, when inner relations, antitheses, problems thus become\nevident; and when, through the exercise of activity upon these, an inner\nworld is raised up, which confidently places itself in opposition to the\nendlessness of the soulless world and is able to take up the struggle\nwith it. We must show unrelenting hostility to any attempt to identify\nmood with inner spirituality, with the soul's self-consciousness; for,\nreally, there is no greater contrast than that between simple\ndisposition and spiritual depth, between the man of mere sentiment, with\nhis dependence and vacillation, and the personality rooted in an inner\ninfinity.\n\nAnd so the independence and the predominance of the individual over the\nsocial environment, which Individualism asserts, are nothing more than\nan appearance. For what is offered in this system is far less a\nself-conscious life and an undisturbed pursuance of our own course than\nthe inclination to say and do the opposite of that which is said and\ndone by the majority of those who surround us. It is easy to see that\nlife, as a matter of fact, always remains related to its environment and\nto the standard of that environment; and that what is represented here\nas independence is nothing but a different kind of dependence, an\nindirect dependence. To the endeavour of Individualism to provide a free\ncourse for the individual with his particularity it is scarcely possible\nto offer any opposition. Unfortunately, however, intention and\nrealisation are different things, and Individualism is apt to assume as\nsomething simple and self-evident that which of all things is the most\ndifficult, that is, individuality itself. Just as Socialism promises a\nsure advance of life as a result of the removal of external hindrances,\nso Individualism expects a magnificent advance of an inexhaustible\nindividualistic culture, if only the statutes by which the community\noppresses and limits the individual are annulled. What, then, is the\nreal state of the matter? Are men so full of spiritual impulse that it\nis only necessary to open up a course for it? And further, does that\nwhich is peculiar in a man signify, as a matter of course, that he is an\nindividuality with some sort of value?--and is it at once capable of\nforming a centre of life? How indefinite and how lacking in consistency\nthe psychical nature of man usually is! How much that is lofty and how\nmuch that is mean, how much that is noble and how much that is vulgar,\nis found here! Shall this chaos display itself and be extolled as an\nindividuality? In truth, an inner unity appertains to a genuine\nindividuality, and the ascertaining and realisation of this are not\nsimply a gift from nature, but a result of spiritual endeavour. To\nattain to a genuine individuality requires an energetic concentration of\nlife; an overcoming of the spirit of indifference; a unifying of the\nmultiplicity of experience; often, also, a transcending of sharp\ncontradictions. How difficult it has been for even the most prominent\nindividualities--men such as Luther, Kant, Goethe--to find their true\nselves, that is, the essence of their being, the aspect in which their\nstrength lay! How great a problem, and what an object of the keenest\nconflict, their genuine individuality formed to them! How could a task\nof such difficulty find fulfilment, and life a unification and\nelevation, in superficial and fleeting mood? If in order to make men\nindependent individuals it sufficed to declare them so, we should indeed\nbe much further advanced than unfortunately is the case.\n\nThe new life ought not to be simply autonomous, independent and\nindividual, it should also be powerful and great. Is the mere evolution\nand cultivation of sentiment able to give such power and greatness to an\nunrestrained passivity? Of course, in its own estimation unrestrained\nmood can raise itself high above the whole world, and so magnify the\nsupposed independence as to give rise to a feeling of supreme power; but\nagain, it is only a representation of power, a semblance of power, and\nnot a real power, that is reached. Mere mood and genuine power\nconstitute an irreconcilable antithesis. Attention to and cultivation of\nsentiment may refine life; it will at the same time weaken and dissipate\nit. Power develops and grows only in grappling with resistances, whether\nthey be outside or within one's own soul. Life will acquire a powerful\ncharacter only where an active spirituality is acknowledged, which,\ndrawing from its own nature, holds up standards and aims to the actual\ncondition of reality, especially to its own soul, and undertakes to\nchange this condition in accordance with the requirements set by these\nstandards and aims. \u00c6sthetic Individualism, however, as we saw,\nconceives of the spiritual life as chiefly receptive and contemplative;\nas an appropriation, a mirroring and an enjoyment of an existent\nreality. Thus for it the spiritual life might be closely connected with\nthis existent reality, indeed might be one with it; but at the same time\nthe view robs that life of the power of arousing and elevating, of\nindependent construction and secure advance.\n\nAn aristocratic character, the separation of an exoteric and an esoteric\nsphere, has been distinctive of an \u00e6sthetic conception of life from\nancient times even until now. The fact appealed to in justification of\nits assumption of this character is beyond doubt: it is that, not only\nin art but in all spiritual creation, only few among those creating or\nreproducing stand high; that genuine creation always comes about in\nopposition to the mediocre; that if it identified itself with the\ninterests and conditions of the majority it would be deeply degraded,\nindeed inwardly destroyed. But this is a contrast between spiritual\ncreation and human circumstances, not a division of humanity according\nto two sets of circumstances; in truth, fewer of the really great than\nof those great in their own estimation have boasted of greatness. For\nthe genuinely great have been occupied far too much by the demands of\ntheir task, and been too deeply conscious of the inadequacy of human\ncapacity, to have been able to indulge in a reflection upon and a vain\nenjoyment of themselves. The infinity of the task by which, rather than\nby other men, they measured themselves made even the highest result\nappear inadequate to them. It is necessary to Individualism to represent\nthe unmistakeable distinction between a culture that is genuinely\nspiritual and one that is merely human, as a difference between two\nclasses of men; and it is only because it knows no objective restraint,\nno inner necessities, and can measure men only with men, that it is able\nto believe itself justified in looking down upon other men from its\nstandpoint--as though the mere profession of faith in its programme at\nonce effected an elevation of nature.\n\nThe undertaking to transform life completely into something of positive\nvalue, suddenly and directly to advance to complete affirmation of life,\nis associated with the desire for power. So far as this is simply a\ndesire to abandon an irresolute and narrow mode of thought, false\nhumiliation and self-belittlement, and mere accommodation to\ncircumstances in tasks where the beginning is difficult and calls for\ngreat effort, we may frankly admit its justification. But the matter is\nnot so simple as it is represented in this train of thought. Ultimately\nno spiritual movement which would win mankind can give up its claim to a\nfinal affirmation of life. Even the most completely pessimistic systems,\nsystems of absolute negation--as, for example, the original\nBuddhism--could not conquer wider areas without making that negative\nmilder and transforming it into an affirmative. But the question is\nwhether, after all that humanity has experienced and suffered, a quick\nand immediate affirmation is possible; whether the way to a final\naffirmation does not lead rather through an energetic negation. So long\nas the restriction which life felt seemed to come from outside only,\nand not to reach the inner recesses of the soul, as the prevailing mode\nof thought in Antiquity represented the case to be, the decisive\nrejection of all suffering, the proud armouring of the soul against all\npain, could be accepted as the crown of all virtues. In face, however,\nof actual experience, Antiquity could not continue to hold such a\nconviction. For good or for evil, it was compelled to regard suffering\nas something more important and to occupy itself more with it, and,\nuntil Christianity opened up new paths, it fell into the danger of\nlosing all vital energy. Whatever position one may take up with regard\nto the dogma and the tendencies of Christianity, the fact cannot be\nstruck out of history that it has laid bare infinite perplexities in the\nsoul of man in regard to his relation to the world, and at the same time\nhas taken up suffering into the centre of life, not to perpetuate it,\nbut to rise above it by the revealing of a world of spirit and of love.\nThis has not made life easier, but more difficult; yet at the same time\nit has made it greater, deeper, and more inwardly determined. Every\nscheme of life which light-heartedly professes to be able to lead us\nquickly over suffering and to cast it off proves itself to be\nintolerably superficial, if not frivolous. Superficiality easily\ntriumphs over men and becomes their first opinion; men seem to welcome\nfirst every way of thinking which makes life comfortable and presents no\ndemands of any sort. But the problems of our existence, and the longing\nfor genuine and not merely illusory happiness, remain, and in face of\nthe seriousness of these problems it soon proves to be fleeting and vain\nto try to find satisfaction in that which is simply comfortable.\n\nThe case is no different in regard to Individualism and the problem of\nmorality. The value of an energetic opposition to laws of convention and\nexternal etiquette is beyond question; but it should not be forgotten\nthat such a conflict has been carried on within the sphere of morality\nand religion from ancient times; that in every age that which was\nspiritually highest has forcibly withstood the efforts of men\nillegitimately to claim absolute validity for their statutes and\ntendencies. But Individualism commits the error of asserting that the\nmean morality which is reached at the average level of humanity\nconstitutes the essence of morality, and in so doing excludes from\nitself the feeling for everything great and deep which lies within\nmorality. With all its talk of greatness and breadth, Individualism\nmakes life narrow, since it leads man solely to the cultivation and\nunfolding of his own passive states of consciousness, and permits the\npleasure-seeking _ego_ to draw everything to itself and hold it fast\nthere. Everything, however, which exists beyond his sphere it interprets\nas a mere \"other\" world, and thus declares all submission to the object\nfor its own sake, all forgetfulness of self, all becoming more\ncomprehensive, and all renewal through genuine love, to be only\ndelusory. Further, in this system, in which natural impulse governs\neverything, the conceptions of responsibility and guilt, and with this\nthe antithesis of good and evil, must be held to be the result of a\nnarrowly human way of thinking, as something which, though serving no\nreal purpose, still alarms men and overawes life. Yet through the\ndevelopment of a spiritual activity which places it in a more inward and\nfree relation to reality, humanity has really advanced beyond the\nposition in which man acted as a part of mere nature. In this, too,\nChristianity also marks a great advance; we have only to picture to\nourselves the life-work of Augustine in order to have a clear example of\nthe separation of a genuine morality, as the expression of a new world\nbased upon freedom, from the attention to and cultivation of natural\ninstincts. The greatest thinker of the Modern Age, Kant, has only\nestablished this distinction in a newer form. In this connection\nresponsibility and guilt, as transcending nature, also become a witness\nof greatness; they give expression to the fact that man is an\nindependent co-operator in the universe, and regards the world as in\nsome sense his own; to the fact that life does not simply happen to him,\nbut also through him. For, along with freedom and its world, the old\nworld of given existence remains and holds us fast, not merely\nexternally but inwardly also; life is a severe conflict between higher\nand lower, between freedom and destiny. With so much that is complicated\nand perplex, life must be regarded as in the highest degree unfinished.\nBut just because of this it involves an incalculable tension, and even\nin its constraints and pains it leaves the self-preservation and the\nwelfare of the mere subject at a level far beneath itself. When,\ntherefore, Individualism, neglecting the movement of universal history,\nwishes to limit us to this mere subject, and, effacing all dividing\nlines, calls upon us to submit to every force which plays upon us, and\nto enter into the glad enjoyment of life, there is really no difference\nbetween this and advising a man, who has gone through the many and\ndifficult experiences of life, to throw to the winds all he has thus\ngained, and to please himself again with the games of childhood.\n\nThe position is similar with regard to the relation of the spiritual and\nthe sensuous, as Individualism represents it. It is rightly opposed to\nboth a monkish asceticism and a conventional, feigned, low estimate of\nthe sensuous; it is indeed with good reason that \u00c6sthetic Individualism\ndefends the right of the sensuous. But to give the sensuous its right\ndoes not mean to permit it to be joined together in an undifferentiated\nunity with the spiritual, as though it were of equal value. Na\u00efve ages\nwere able to strive for a perfect balance of spiritual and sensuous;\nbut, with the increasing depth of the life of the soul, a division has\nresulted which no toil and no art can simply remove again. Now,\ntherefore, either the spiritual will be dominant over the sensuous or\nthe sensuous over the spiritual. In Individualism, with its amalgamation\nof the spiritual and the sensuous, by which all claim to spiritual\nactivity, and therefore to all independence of spiritual life, is given\nup, the sensuous will inevitably dominate over the spiritual. The result\nis simply a degeneration of the spiritual, a refined sensuousness; and\nit is defenceless against an intrusion of vulgar pleasure. Will any one\nseriously assert that we find ourselves to-day in a na\u00efve position in\nrelation to sense?\n\nIn this respect, as in all others, the strength of Individualism lies\nchiefly in criticism; its refined perception makes it especially capable\nof apprehending clearly the errors of the traditional conceptions of\nlife. Its influence, however, suffers from the contradiction which it\ninvolves, in that it purposes to solve the problems, to which only an\nindependent and self-determining spiritual life is equal, with the means\nof sense experience. Such a spiritual life is to be attained only by\ntranscending this sense experience. Owing to the fact that Individualism\nplaces its sole attention upon the surface of sense experience, its\naims, in themselves of the highest necessity, must be distorted and\ngrossly misrepresented. Independence, greatness, and certainty--ever\nhovering before life--cannot be attained by Individualism in reality,\nbut only in picture and semblance. And it can lend to this appearance a\nmoderate power of conviction only because, just in the same way as the\nother modern organisations of life, it enriches itself imperceptibly\nfrom the same traditional modes of thought and of culture, in opposition\nto which it stands, and of which the impelling motives are to it a\nsealed book.\n\nThus, in truth, it does not offer mere and pure subjectivity, but\nsubjectivity on the basis of a rich life of culture, which it is itself\nunable to produce, but without which it would lapse at once into\ncomplete emptiness. The \u00e6sthetic-individualistic scheme of life proves\nto be a phenomenon, accompanying a ripe, indeed an over-ripe, culture.\nAn independent culture, with its labour and its sacrifice, it is unable\nto produce.\n\nTo reject \u00c6sthetic Individualism means to attack modern art and its\nservice to life just as little as to reject Naturalism and Socialism is\nto estimate meanly modern natural science and present social endeavour.\nOn the contrary, it may be said that, as Naturalism has no keener\nantagonist than modern natural science, so modern art, with the energy\nwhich is bestowed upon it and with its many-sided expansion of the soul,\nstands not in agreement with but in opposition to \u00c6sthetic\nIndividualism. For, indeed, a creative artist of the first rank has\nnever subscribed to a merely \u00e6sthetic conception of life. Still, however\nmuch artistic endeavour and a merely \u00e6sthetic conception of the world\nmay be associated by the individual, in their nature they remain\ndifferentiated, and no appreciation of art is able to justify the\n\u00e6sthetic conception of life, which subjects all life to a contradiction;\nworks against life in striving to attain its own ends; neglects the\ndevelopment through the centuries; and, instead of the substance hoped\nfor, offers only opinion and appearance. How can life find a support in\nthis?\n\n\n\n\nII. CONSIDERATION OF THE SITUATION AS A WHOLE AND PRELIMINARIES FOR\nFURTHER INVESTIGATION\n\n(a) THE NATURE OF THE NEW AS A WHOLE AND ITS RELATION TO THE OLD\n\n\nFrom the description that has been given of the modern systems of life,\nwe have seen that the Modern Age is by no means homogeneous, and that\nthe conception \"modern\" has more than one meaning. Culture, in\nparticular, has a character fundamentally different according as life\nfinds its basis on the one hand in something external to itself, in\nnature, or in society, or on the other hand in the subjective states of\nconsciousness. But that a common striving is present in spite of every\ndifference, indeed of every antithesis, is proved by the energy with\nwhich all deny and reject the older form of culture and its\ntranscendence of sense experience; by the vigour of the struggle against\nthat which is regarded by the more modern systems as mere phantasy and\ndeception, but which nevertheless continues to dominate social life. The\nkinship of these systems extends, beyond a common acquiescence in a\nnegation, to a common affirmation. On all sides a thirst after a more\nforceful reality, and a more imposing immediacy of life, is to be found.\nSense experience manifests itself throughout as fuller in content and\nmore plastic; and so the chief point of support is found within it, and,\nthough in different ways, the whole of life is organised from it. Still,\ngranted that this could be effected only in opposition to the\ntraditional conduct of life, the new is by no means desirous of\nremaining in a state of mere opposition. It seeks rather to unite the\nopposing elements to itself, to adapt them to itself, and to satisfy to\nthe fullest extent the ideal demands of human nature. It is an attempt\nentirely to renew and completely to revolutionise life--a vast\nundertaking! Whether it has succeeded, or whether it is still engaged in\nbringing the attempt to a successful issue, is the problem that we had\nto investigate.\n\nAs far as our chief question is concerned, our result was a decided\nnegative. True, much that is great and much that may not be lost again\nhas been achieved. The new systems of life have indeed appropriated\nwhole groups of facts; have invigorated whole groups with new powers;\nhave revealed new tasks of the most fruitful kind, not only in the\nindividual but also for the whole; and have given to life dominating\nimpulses and a powerful impetus. But all this becomes a doubtful gain,\nindeed it threatens to become a loss, if particular experience and\nachievement desire to govern the whole of life, and to impress upon it\ntheir own peculiar stamp. Not only does life become intolerably\none-sided in such a case, but its wealth of experience is cut down in\norder to fit it into the given framework. We also saw that a serious\ninner inconsistency originates. For a long period this inconsistency may\nbe concealed, but where any great energy is present in life, it must\nbreak forth with a disturbing force and become intolerable. Since the\nmodern systems regard the whole of life as arising from relation,\nwhether it be to the environment or to the subjective states of\nconsciousness, they must reduce everything inward and universal to the\nlevel of a derived and secondary product; they must repudiate and oppose\nan original and independent spirituality, a self-conscious inner world.\nSuch an inner spiritual experience has evolved through the whole of\nhistory, and transcends all forms of life-organisation: it is impossible\nto explain it away. The modern systems must themselves experience this.\nFor they could not possibly transform the abundance of diverse\nappearances into an organised whole; they could not pass from universal\nto universal, without presupposing and employing the same transcendent\nand encompassing inner world, which directly they attack. At the same\ntime, however, they give to every factor of life a position and a depth\nwholly inconsistent with what they are justified in doing with their own\nmode of thought. They cannot perform their own tasks without drawing\nincessantly upon another kind of reality, one richer and more\nsubstantial. In truth, they are something other, and something far more\nthan they believe themselves to be. Does this not show, beyond\npossibility of refutation, that they do not fill the whole of life?\n\nThe contradiction immanent in the modern systems of life is especially\napparent in the fact that they are unable to banish supersensual powers\nand to limit life to sense experience, without attributing to sense\nexperience more content and more value than that which experience itself\njustifies, and which, to be consistent, they should not overstep. The\nnaturalistic thinker ascribes unperceived to nature, which to him can be\nonly a co-existence of soulless elements, an inner connection and a\nliving soul. Only thus can he revere it as a higher power, as a kind of\ndivinity; only thus can he pass from the fact of dependence to a\ndevotional surrender of his feelings. The socialist bases human society,\nwith its motives mixed with triviality and passion, on an invisible\ncommunity, an ideal humanity, which he clothes with the splendour of a\npower and dignity that transfigures the immediate appearance of society.\nIt is only in this way that he is able to direct his whole effort upon\nthe welfare of mankind, and to expect a pure victory of reason within\nits sphere. The individualist in his conception exalts the individual to\na height far more lofty than is justified by the individual as he is\nfound in experience; for his thought, the individual is far more\npowerful and far more prominent and noble than immediate impressions\nindicate. Only thus is he able, from the freedom and the development of\nthe individual, to hope for the beginning of a new epoch.\n\nIn these newer systems of life the conception of reality as a whole is\nalso subjected to the same groundless and, likewise, false idealisation.\nAs in these systems nothing may be acknowledged which transcends sense\nexperience, there can be no universal which pervades and holds together\nthe manifold. This being the case, reality must be a co-existence of\nsingle pieces; but no one will readily confess himself of this opinion.\nA pantheism, vague to the highest degree, is therefore seized upon as a\ncure-all, that man may have something which permeates and connects; but\nof this something, however, all more detailed description is lacking,\nand is carefully avoided. A conception so vague allows us at the same\ntime to think and not to think something; at the same time to affirm and\nto deny. It seems to accomplish so much and to demand so little; it\nmakes the impossible possible; and offers the most convenient asylum to\nall indefiniteness and confusion. It is a pity that in all this it is\nnot a reality that surrounds us, but a mere _fata morgana_ which\ndeceives. And a conception so vague is to displace religion and accord\nsupport to the new life! Truly, this requires a stronger faith than that\nwith which the older religions were satisfied.\n\nThe modern systems of life desire a more forceful reality; in this they\nset work an aim which cannot be rejected. The course they have entered\nupon, however, does not bring them nearer to this aim, but rather\nremoves them further from it. Neither the self-evidence of the senses\nnor the oscillation of mood can ever represent genuine reality to a\nbeing who, for good or for evil, has once learned to think. Many and\nvaried impressions may come and go in sense experience; but their\nabundance cannot prevent the chief conceptions, by which they are here\naccompanied, from receiving a character abstract and vague in the\nhighest degree. We hear continually of the whole, of reason, of power,\nof evolution; but all these conceptions have no stability and little\ncontent; they are like shadows and phantoms which vanish as soon as we\nwish to take hold of them. So, by an irony of fate, just those modes of\nthought whose chief impulse was the desire for more reality dissipate,\ndissolve reality. We see that the spiritual life may be denied by the\nindividual, but not driven from the work of culture. It is true that\nimmediate experience, outer and inner, has become much more to the\npresent age than it was to earlier ages; but it has become so only\nthrough spiritual endeavour. If, therefore, the Modern Age now turns\ndefinitely against this spiritual activity, to rob it of all\nindependence, it destroys that which first gave it its own power.\n\nThe modern systems of life have raised the standard of human existence\nenormously in regard to power and content; but they have done this at\nthe cost of its spiritual concreteness. They have suppressed the life of\ninner spiritual experience and denied the problems of man's inner\nnature. They know of no grappling of man either with the infinite or\nwith his own nature; they recognise no conflict between freedom and\nfate, and no inner development of the soul. And all this because their\nview of life as a whole takes away all depth, and transforms existence\ninto a mere series of appearances. Thus, for anyone who regards such\ndepth as the basis of life, and who, therefore, will not reject the\nexperience and the result of the work of universal history, it becomes a\nnecessity to reject and oppose the modern systems as guides of life. The\nmore explicitly and exclusively they are presented, the more decided\nmust his opposition be. For, what shall all the gain on the\ncircumference of life profit man if through attention to that the centre\nof his life becomes empty and weak, if there emerges no content and no\nmeaning in life itself? What is the value of all the advancing and\nrefining of human existence if it does not bring with it a genuine\nspiritual culture and an inward elevation of mankind?\n\nThe increasing experience and perception of such limitations in the new\nmay lead men to give more attention again to the old. The striving to\ntranscend mere sense experience can no longer appear as a mere flight\ninto an \"other\" world of dreams, or as due to a feeble and cowardly\ndisposition; it may now be admitted rather as a deeply rooted endeavour\nto reach greater depths of life. Yet such a relaxation of the opposition\nto the old, and such an inclination to estimate it more highly, by no\nmeans justifies us in simply taking it up again in the form in which it\nlies before us. For to this not merely the modern system of life, but\nthe whole development of life and work, is opposed. The contradictions\nand doubts which have grown up in the course of this development are not\nin the least overcome by the failure of the modern systems of life. For\nwe do not find ourselves confronted here with an \"either--or,\" in which\nthe invalidity of the one alternative immediately establishes the\nvalidity of the other; but both may be inadequate. So we remain\nsurrounded by the old and the new, under powerful influences from both,\nbut not in a position to accept either the one or the other exclusively.\n\n\n(b) THE CONDITION OF THE PRESENT\n\nThis situation, with its juxtaposition of the new and the old, is so\nfull of confusion and perplexity that only a feeble disposition is\ncapable of acquiescing in it. In the old we respect or surmise a depth;\nbut this depth does not know how to give itself a form suitable to the\npresent, or to influence us with the means available in our own time.\nThe new directs all our attention to the immediate present and fills us\nwith its intuitions; but this present becomes superficial to us, and\nwith increasing power a desire for more substance and soul in life rises\nup in opposition to it. The old lifted us to the proud height of a new\nworld, but this height showed signs of becoming severed from the rest of\nexistence, and lapsed therefore into a state of painful insecurity. The\nnew builds up from the experience of sense, but it finds no conclusion\nwithout going beyond this experience and thus contradicting itself. The\nold regarded the spiritual life of man, if not man himself, as occupying\nthe centre of all and thereby fell into the danger of a hastened\nconclusion and of an anthropomorphic conception of reality. The new\ntakes from man every position by which he is especially distinguished,\nand ignores all connection with ultimate depths, but in so doing it\noverthrows more than it intends; it undermines nothing less than the\npossibility of all spiritual work, all science, all culture.\n\nAnd so we find ourselves in the midst of contradictions, drawn first in\none direction, then in another: that we are at a crisis in life as a\nwhole and in culture, that we are in state of spiritual need, cannot\nfail to be recognised. This crisis is made all the more acute through\nthe peculiarity of the historical circumstances which have led up to it\nand the social conditions which surround us. Historically, we are under\nthe influences of two cultures: one older, which up to the seventeenth\ncentury was in undisputed supremacy and which has asserted its authority\nup to the present day, especially in regard to the arrangements of\nsocial life; and one newer, which, after the influence of many varied\npreliminary tendencies, has arisen since that time with the energy of\nyouth, and which, in the minds of individuals, has easily become the\ndominant power. The two cultures had different starting-points and\nfollowed different main courses. The old culture carried within itself\nthe experiences of Greek life, the inner progress of which may be seen\nespecially in the development of its philosophy. In the old culture\nendeavour was driven more and more beyond the world of sense to a world\nof thought, in which it went on from a universal to an ethical and\nultimately to a religious conviction. To the thought of Greece, as she\ngrew old, the world of sense experience sank more and more in reality\nand value, and life found its basis and chief realm of experience in a\nregion transcending sense. Christianity definitely established this view\nof life, and made the invisible Kingdom of God the true home of man, the\nmost immediate and the most secure that this life knows.\n\nNew peoples then grew up in this way of thinking; peoples who still had\ntheir work before them; to these, the break with the world of sense came\nmore as the imposition of an overpowering authority than as due to\ntheir own experience. This fact constituted a point of weakness in every\nway; but no serious complication arose so long as these peoples were not\nyet ripe for spiritual independence. As soon, however, as this was the\ncase, it was inevitable that contradictions should manifest themselves,\nand that a newly awakened impulse should urge the movement into an\nentirely opposite direction.\n\nThat is what really happened; the main tendency of life is now directed\njust as much upon the world as earlier it went beyond it; it has been\ntransferred from the invisible to the visible, from the supernatural to\nthe natural. We see this most clearly in the case of religion, which, as\nthough with immanent necessity, runs through the sequence of a\npredominant transcendent Theism, a Panentheism, a Pantheism--gradually\nbecoming colourless--an Agnosticism, and a Positivism. Everything\nsupernatural disappears from thought, and life is concerned solely with\nsense experience. Thus, finally, we appear to have arrived at the same\npoint as that from which the Greeks started out: the Monism of the most\nmodern coining, for example, is hardly to be distinguished from the\nHylozoism of the ancient Ionian thinkers. But is the whole result of the\nmovement of universal history really only a deception? Has it simply\nbrought us back again, from the false paths that we have tried, without\naccording us any kind of positive profit whatever? We have become men of\nanother kind; we think and feel differently; we have built up a rich\nculture, have transformed the world, have created a spiritual\natmosphere; and we are capable of striving after infinite life and\nultimate truth. Could all of this spring out of mere error? If that were\nso, should we not be compelled to reject the whole of this as phantasy\nand deception? But if the error was a means and an instrument in the\nattainment of truth, and if mankind in its going out from itself and in\nits return to itself is inwardly developed, where does the boundary\nbetween truth and error lie, and what is the meaning of the whole? So\nhere again we lapse into uncertainty; history, to other ages a secure\nsupport, leads us into still greater doubt.\n\nFinally, we must add to this crisis of culture the onward march of the\nsocial movement, which continually increases in power; the passionate\nlonging of ever-growing groups of men for immediate participation in\nculture and the joys of life. Such movements may accomplish themselves\nwithin a fixed and acknowledged sphere of culture and of life; what\nchanges they then bring lie within this sphere; they do not place the\nwhole in question. Thus, the democratic movements of the fifteenth and\nsixteenth centuries left certain principles of religious conviction\nuntouched; they left the conception of the world entirely unchanged. But\nthe matter is quite otherwise when a movement of this kind comes in\ncontact with a culture which is inwardly unstable and which is growing\nuncertain concerning its final aims. We cannot fail to recognise what a\ngreat danger of degeneration there is under such circumstances. The\nmasses, thus struggling upward, then seek their own way of life, and in\nso doing they naturally concentrate their attention upon that which lies\nimmediately before their eyes and affects their immediate well-being.\nFrom this position they will advance all the more quickly to a certain\nconclusion, in that they are unconcerned with the experiences and\nperplexities of the work of universal history, and therefore, with\nunclouded enthusiasm, expect complete truth and pure happiness from\nfreer exercise of their powers and the rejection of all authority. If we\nwish to ignore the dangers to culture which thus grow up, we must either\nestimate man as he is too highly, or spiritual tasks too meanly. Until\nthe present, an independent spiritual life, making man more\ncomprehensive in being, raising and freeing him, has manifested itself\nonly at individual points; in the first place in chosen individuals,\nfrom whom it has been conveyed to the common life. The spiritual world\nmade its appearance as a power superior to the interests and the\nopinions of individuals and of the masses. Only in such transcendence of\nthe merely human did it develop any characteristic content, find an\ninner unity, arouse respect, and lead man beyond mere nature. If all\nthis should now become different, if man in the mass should come to feel\nhimself to be the measure of all things, and should relate all to his\nperception as the centre of infinity, would not a severe contradiction\narise between human enterprise and spiritual necessity, and would not\nthe full development of this opposition threaten the whole state of\nculture with a violent convulsion? Ultimately the inner necessities of\nour being would certainly win the day against all errors of\nsuperficiality, but what severe conflicts and losses the division must\ncost!\n\nThe consideration of all these facts reveals us under the power of\ndifferent, indeed antagonistic, movements, and most especially in the\nmidst of the great struggle for supremacy between the visible and\ninvisible world, as the conflict between Positivism and Idealism gives\nexpression to it. Life for us contains two movements, one of which\nstarts from the centre and the other from the circumference; the former\ncannot embrace the fullness of reality, and its basis is also insecure;\nthe latter gives no inner unity to life and lowers the standard of the\nwhole. As each of these main tendencies again divides, movements the\nmost varied surround us, tear us asunder, and crush our souls under\ntheir oppositions. God and reason have become uncertain to us, and the\nsubstitutes that are offered--nature, society, the individual--fail to\nsatisfy us. The unrest and uncertainty that arise from this are not\nlimited to a single sphere, they extend to the ultimate basal principles\nof life. The new mode of thought declares the chief world of the\nancients to be a delusion; but we saw its own world dissolved in shadows\nand schemes by spiritual activity. Since the one dissolves the reality\nof the other, we are threatened with the loss of all definite results;\nour own being becomes a dark problem to us; we know neither what we are\nnor what we are not.\n\nThe impression that we get of the condition of the present as a whole\nmay also be represented in the following manner: the historical\nmovement of humanity unfolds an incalculable wealth of life; this life,\nhowever, cannot reach its own highest point and cannot win a character\nof a spiritual kind unless it organises itself into a whole, unless it\nattains an inner synthesis transcending all isolated states. Such\nsyntheses have been realised, and have led to distinctive organisations\nof life; but these organisations have all proved to be too insignificant\nand too narrow, and none has been able to overcome the rest and to\nembrace the whole wealth of life. So life as a whole has broken them\ndown; and since it has thus lost all inner structure, it must inevitably\nfall into a state of rapid degeneration, and must threaten to lose all\ncontent and meaning.\n\nThe evil effects on the development of life that are caused by this\nconvulsion and division, and by the lack of a dominant tendency; how\nthis condition leads to the destruction of everything simple and\nself-evident, and lends to an unrestrained reflection an unwarrantable\npower; how it robs endeavour of all its main tendencies, and permits\ntrue and untrue, good and evil, to run confusedly together, all this and\nmuch else is to-day so much and so widely discussed, and presents itself\nwith such overpowering clearness to our vision, that its description\nneed not detain us even for a moment.\n\nOught we to submit to this disintegration and degradation of life as to\nan inevitable destiny, or is it possible to work against it and to\nstrive after a unity transcending the division? The fact that the\ndivision makes so strong an impression on us and that we feel it to be\nso intolerable is at once in favour of the latter alternative. How could\nthis experience be possible if all multiplicity did not fall within a\ncomprehensive whole of life--if our nature were not superior to the\noppositions and did not drive us compulsorily to seek a unity? The life\nwhich, in distinct contrast to decaying Antiquity, flows through our age\nin a powerful, ceaselessly swelling flood; the unwearied activity of\nthis age; the excellence of its work; its passionate longing for more\nhappiness and fullness of life, all forbids a hasty and light\nrenunciation. It is true that there are hard contradictions, and that\nspiritual power is at present not equal to cope with them; but this\npower is not a given and fixed magnitude: it is capable of an\nincalculable increase. Thus we ought not to be too ready to assert that\nthe limitations of the age are identical with the bounds of humanity,\nand we ought not faint-heartedly to discontinue the struggle for a unity\nand a meaning in life.\n\nThis problem cannot be acknowledged without at the same time being\nadmitted as the most important and the most urgent of all problems. For,\non the decision concerning the whole, that concerning the spiritual\ncharacter of life depends, and, as this character extends through the\nwhole of life, every single matter will be differently decided according\nto the decision concerning the whole. Only purely technical and merely\nformal matters of work may remain unaffected by the problem, but\nwherever a content comes into question it will at once arise and\nmanifest its urgency. This problem, therefore, will not suffer itself to\nbe thrust into the background; we can neither dally with it nor turn\naside from it. The individual, indeed, in his sphere of free decision\nand of independent action can withdraw himself from the question, but he\ncan do so only at the price of the debasement of the quality of his\nlife, only in that, from an independent co-operator in the building up\nof the ages, he becomes a dependent under-worker.\n\n\n(c) THE FORM OF THE PROBLEM\n\nOnly a few words are now necessary to come to a more definite\nunderstanding concerning the form of the problem, which, with compelling\nforce, rises into prominence out of all this complexity. Where the\nconvulsion is such a fundamental and universal one as it shows itself to\nus to be, it is of the first importance to rise above the existing\nchaos, and to avoid all that which, even indirectly, would lead us back\nto it. Many of the aids which would-be healers of the time's evils\nrecommend with vigour therefore need not be considered.\n\nEvery attempt to make a direct compromise between the different forms of\nlife, to appropriate eclectically this aspect from one and that aspect\nfrom another, is inadequate. The view that none of the systems of life\ncould have won so much power over mankind without containing some kind\nof truth, which may not be lost, has, to be sure, a good deal of truth\nin it. It is first necessary, however, to attain a position from which\nthis truth in each case may be ascertained and rightly appreciated; and\nwe can only reach such a position in opposition to the confusion which\nsurrounds us.\n\nA recourse to history and an adherence to a high achievement of the past\npromise just as little help. One thing is certain: history cannot be\neliminated from our life; its highest achievements invite us to consider\nthem again and again. But what is to be accepted by us as \"high,\"\nindeed, what as \"spiritual\" history, is not at all definite without\nfurther consideration. It is what is esteemed in our own conviction as\ntrue and great which decides in this matter. We look at history from the\nposition of the present and with the spirit of the present. If,\ntherefore, as we saw, the present has fallen inwardly into a state of\ncomplete uncertainty and doubt, our consideration of history must be\naffected in the same way; and, of course, not its external data, but its\ninner spiritual content and meaning must be made uncertain. At the same\ntime, we cannot fail to recognise that in reference to the central\nproblem with which we are concerned, the present situation is quite\npeculiar, and lacks historical parallel. Sharp contrasts have always\nbeen found in human experience; and in transitional periods in history\nthey have been felt with painful acuteness. But never did they so extend\nover the whole of life and so deeply affect fundamentals; never was\nthere so much uncertainty with regard to what should be the main\ndirection of endeavour, and the meaning of all human existence and man's\nrelation to the universe, as in the present. Everything which to earlier\nages appeared an inviolable possession has become to us a problem. What\ngain, therefore, in respect of the chief matter could a return to the\npast bring? In his investigation of the far-off ages the scholar may for\na time forget the present: the attitude of mind which may result in\nbringing him fame for his work would be dangerous and destructive as a\ndisposition of the whole of mankind. For we cannot treat that which is\nforeign to our nature as something of our own, without losing our\ndistinctive character and degrading our own life to one of mere\nimitation.\n\nFurther, it has become impossible to strive for the ideal by selecting\nfrom the realm of experience a single point and treating it as an\narchimedean point, as absolutely fixed, and shaping our life from it.\nDescartes attempted to do this with his \"I think,\" and Kant with his \"I\nought.\" But it is very doubtful whether there is an archimedean point in\nman; whether to make such an assumption is not to over-estimate man. The\nexperience of history shows further that that which some have taken as\nabsolutely primary and axiomatic has been regarded by others as\nderivative, and has been explained in an entirely different manner. The\npresentationalist does not deny the actuality of thought, or the\nnaturalistic thinker conscience; but he understands it as a subsidiary\nphenomenon, and therefore can find no support in it. How then can that\novercome all doubt which itself calls forth serious doubt?\n\nA whole sphere can be withdrawn from the confusion and used to overcome\nit just as little as can a single leading point. For the uncertainty\nwith regard to the whole extends far into every individual sphere; and\nsuch a sphere may appear, to one in one way, and to another in another.\n\nScience is not infrequently treated as though it were enthroned on high,\nsupreme above all the struggles and the doubts of existence, and as\nthough, from its sovereign capacity, it were able to give a secure\ncontent of truth to life. It is true that science has much in its forms\nand in its work which is not the subject of dispute; but that with which\nwe are here concerned--its intrinsic value, its spiritual character, and\nits place in life as a whole--is by no means a matter beyond dispute. As\na matter of fact, every system of life has its own assertion in\nreference to this problem: to each to know signifies something different\nand is capable of something different. Whoever decides for one of these\nassertions concerning the nature of knowing has at the same time made a\ndecision concerning the systems of life. He stands not outside, but in\nthe midst, of the struggle. The same thing holds good with regard to\nmorality, which is often welcomed as a secure refuge from the doubts of\nscience. For, however certain it may be that in this sphere also there\nis no difference of opinion in respect of many things, as, for example,\nconcerning the goodness or badness of certain types of conduct, still,\nthe more we come to be concerned with principles the more do problems\narise. In the immediate present the fact is most unmistakably clear that\nin this field also the fight does not rage around the interpretation of\na given and acknowledged fact, but around the fact itself. What a\ndifferent purport and meaning morality has in the systems of Religion,\nImmanent Idealism, Naturalism, Socialism, and Individualism\nrespectively!\n\nFinally, the attempt to give to life stability and peace by turning to\nthe subject, to personality, as to a point removed from all perplexity,\nalso fails. We should be the last to place a low estimate upon\npersonality, but the conception receives its meaning and value only in\nits spiritual connections, and without these it soon becomes nothing\nmore than a mere term, which blurs and blunts the great antithesis of\nexistence. If that which is called personality exists as a merely\nindividual point by the side of things, then we can never discover how\noccupation with things is capable of transforming life as a whole. If,\nhowever, in this activity we should win an inward relation to infinity\nand a spontaneity of life, then this admission involves a confession\nconcerning reality as a whole which can never be justified by a theory\nwhich regards the mere individual as the starting-point. That the idea\nof personality implies a problem rather than a fact is indicated by the\ndifferent conceptions of it which we meet in the different systems of\nlife. In considering personality, Religion thinks of the immediate\nrelation of the soul to God; Immanent Idealism, of the presence of the\ninfinite at the individual point; Individualism, of the supremacy of the\nfree subject over against the social environment. It is only by reason\nof the common terminology that we fail to recognise how great the\ndifferences are in the thought on the matter; how that which one regards\nas of value in personality is severely attacked by another.\n\nAll these attempts therefore prove to be inadequate because they lead\nback to the state of uncertainty they were meant to overcome. To reject\nthem, however, involves us in a certain assertion, which to some extent\npoints out the main direction which further investigation must follow.\nNo external compromise can help us, but only the winning of a\ntranscendent position which is capable of giving to each factor its\nright without reduction; no flight into history can lead us to the\ntruth, but only an activity of the present, not, however, of the present\nof the mere moment, but which embraces the work of universal history; no\nplacing a single point or sphere into a supreme and all-dominant\nposition can help us to overcome division, but only a conflict for a new\nwhole; no mere turning to personality is of value before a sure basis is\ngiven to it from the whole! All leads us to this conclusion: we must\nstrive for a new system of life. And to achieve this is not impossible,\nfor, as we saw, a system of life is not imposed upon us by fate, but\nmust arise from our own activity. If the systems which have previously\nbeen formed no longer satisfy, why cannot mankind evolve others? Or is\nit proved that the existent forms exhaust all possibilities? A too\nnarrow conception of life was seen to be a common defect of all these\nsystems; its richness broke through the attempted unifications, and with\nthis they fell into irreconcilable contradiction. Should not a synthesis\nbe possible which would do more justice to the whole extent of life;\nwhich need not deny and exclude so much; and which might also unite what\nat first seems absolutely contradictory? Doubtless such a synthesis\nwould not be achieved all at once; it is inevitable that growing life\nshould involve many discords and movements within itself. Yet this\nsynthesis would present itself at least in a manner similar to that of\nthe extant systems; and, since it strives after something human, it must\nalways be mindful of its limits.\n\nShould such a universal synthesis be at all possible, it must certainly\nbe something which is to be found and disclosed rather than something\nwhich simply is to be produced from ourselves. How could we hope to\nadvance to it if it were not somehow involved in the depth of our being,\nand in our fundamental relation to the world, and if it did not already\nexist here in some way? It is a matter, therefore, of arousing to fuller\nindependence and at the same time of raising inwardly something which\nexists within us; of recognising something new and even astonishing in\nthe old and the supposedly self-evident, so that the truth of the\nuniverse may become our truth and give power to our life.\n\nA task of this kind is a matter of the whole soul and not merely of the\nunderstanding; it is a concern of humanity, not of the individual alone.\nOf that which the single individual may contribute towards the\nattainment of the aim it is hardly possible to think humbly enough. And\nyet each has to use his power to the best of his ability; if in cases of\ngreat necessity and of ill-fortune in matters of an external kind the\nindividual considers it only right to hasten to help, how could he\nwithdraw himself where the task is the satisfying of a spiritual need\nof mankind? Still less than in the former case is he able to disregard\nthe matter as something alien and indifferent to himself. For, in the\nstruggle for the whole, he fights at the same time for the unity of his\nown being, for a meaning for his own life.\n\n\n\n\nII\n\nTHE OUTLINE OF A NEW PHILOSOPHY OF LIFE\n\nINTRODUCTORY REMARKS AND CONSIDERATIONS\n\n\nOur inquiry ended in a definite negation; it showed the present\ncondition of things to be marked by severe internal conflict and in\ndanger of dissolution from within. Many movements of thought and life\ncross, disturb, limit, and oppose one another. Since what to one seems a\nwholesome truth seems to another pernicious error, all inner community\nof life disappears, and with it all firmness of conviction and joy of\ncreative activity. The more these conflicting tendencies develop the\nmore do they crush and destroy all the traditional elements of our life;\nthe more are the spiritual contents and goods, which the necessities of\nlife compel us to adhere to, deprived of their basis in the depths of\nthe soul. The confusion which prevails in the present time, with its\ncontinual change, its rapid alteration of circumstances, its power to\nconvey the most diverse impressions, its production of ever new\ncombinations, might even attract and entertain us if it were no more\nthan a drama. But if the confusion is more than this, if it includes our\ndestiny and is meant to signify the whole of our life, then, by reason\nof its detrimental effects upon the whole of life and upon man's\ninwardness, and by reason of its lack of content and soul, it must\ncompletely fail to satisfy us, and must provoke an energetic resistance.\nTrue, a condition of things so full of contradictions has also its\nadvantages; it accords to the activity of the individual the greatest\nliberty and gives him a feeling of supremacy; its dissolution of\neverything previously regarded as fixed enables uncontrolled feeling and\nunstable mood to acquire power, and at one time to flatter man\npleasantly, and at another to carry him away impetuously. The\nindividual's attainment of freedom, however, gives as yet no content to\nlife; and the feeling of supremacy is as yet not a real supremacy. These\nfeelings and tendencies, which, within a wider whole of life, certainly\nserve to add to its animation, inevitably lead to a state of vagueness\nand emptiness when they put themselves forward as the whole. The\nsupposed aids which are offered us are no more than mere pretences; and\nthey become dangerous and harmful so far as they deceive us concerning\nthe seriousness and tension of the situation.\n\nThe feeling of tension was increased through the historical treatment\nwhich accompanied our inquiry. For, from the point of view of history,\nthe present confusion shows itself to be not a temporary obscuring of an\nindisputable truth, or a tendency on the part of man to become feeble\nand weary in the appropriation of such a truth, but to involve in doubt\nthe basal nature of truth itself: the meaning of our life as a whole was\nseen to have fallen into uncertainty. The systems of thought, in the\nlight of which we have hitherto regarded reality and steered the\noncoming flood of appearances, have broken up and dissolved. We have\nbecome defenceless in face of the impressions of the environment which\naffect us with increasing force, and impel us now in one direction, now\nin another. It is not simply this or that aspect in human existence, but\nthe whole of man's nature which has become problematical in this\ndissolution. Formerly, the chief result of the effort of universal\nhistory had seemed to be that man rises more and more above nature and\nbuilds for himself a realm with new contents and new values. Now, the\ndesire to be something higher than nature appears to be a bold\npresumption; the idea that man has a special position is ably contested,\nand every distinctive task is denied him. Man appears to be far too\ninsignificant and to possess far too little freedom to be able to take\nup arms against the world and to obtain the mastery of it. Doubts such\nas these are all the more painful because they are the result of our own\nwork; in that we toiled, investigated, and pressed forward, we\nundermined the foundations of our own life; our work has turned with\ndestroying power against ourselves. With the increase of external\nresults, life as a whole has become increasingly hollow; it has no\nlonger an organising and governing centre. Is it to be wondered at if\nthe finer spirits of our age are weary, disheartened, and repelled by\nthe feeling of the disharmony of the whole of present culture, which\ncalls for so much effort from man and yields him so little genuine\nhappiness; speaks of truth and lives from semblance and pretence;\nassumes an imposing mien and utterly fails to satisfy when confronted\nwith ultimate problems? Is not the power of attraction, which the figure\nof St. Francis of Assisi was recently able to acquire, an eloquent\nwitness to the reality of the longing for more plainness and simplicity\nin life? And yet we cannot take up again the position occupied by an\nearlier age; we cannot take up a past phase unchanged. No return to the\nconditions of the past can bring satisfaction to the spiritual needs of\nthe present, for a device of this kind always leads by a detour back\nagain to the starting-point. Ultimately, it is from ourselves alone that\nhelp can come; and we can have recourse to no means other than those of\nthe living present.\n\nFirst of all, our state of necessity must be admitted to the full, and\nthe danger of a further degeneration of life in respect of its spiritual\nnature adequately estimated. It is always a gain to obtain a clear idea\nof the condition of the matter in question and to grasp the problem as a\nwhole. For, through this, we are saved not only from illusions leading\nto error, but also from the authority of the mere present and from a\nfeeling of anxiety and fear in the presence of contemporary opinion. If\nthis age is in a state of such uncertainty; if it achieves so little for\nthat which concerns the foundations of our spiritual existence, then\nneither its agreement can impress us, nor its opposition appal us; but\nthe endeavour to make life firm again can seek confidently what is\nneedful for it, and, with care in regard to what it shall affirm and\ndeny, can follow the way which its own necessities point out.\n\nOne fact in particular must tend to increase our confidence in this\nendeavour: the fact, namely, that a negative result, which proceeds from\nour own work, cannot be a mere negation, but must contain an affirmative\nelement within it. From what reason could the traditional systems of\nlife have become inadequate to man other than that they do not satisfy a\ndemand that we ourselves make upon them, and must make upon them? It is\nplain that we need and seek more than we possess, and this seeking\nbetrays that our being is wider or deeper than was assumed in those\nsystems. Why did each of the different systems become inadequate, unless\nit was that life itself rejected as too narrow the standard involved in\nthem? Why was it impossible to regard the different systems as having a\ncertain validity, to allow them to continue side by side, and divide our\nexistence amongst them, if not because we cannot possibly give up all\nclaim to an inner unity? If, then, the present confusion is rooted in a\nwrong relation between our desire and our achievement, we need not\nfaint-heartedly surrender ourselves to it. It is plain that there is\nsomething higher in us, which we have to arouse to life and realise to\nits fullest extent. We may be confident that the necessity of our being,\nwhich gave rise to the desire, will also reveal some way by which it may\nbe satisfied.\n\nA closer consideration of the results of our inquiry leaves no doubt\nwith regard to the direction which research has to take to accomplish\nits task. Diverse, fundamentally different systems passed in review\nbefore us; each came forward as the unadorned and true expression of a\nreality that seemed common to them all; their struggle appeared to be a\nconflict concerning the interpretation of this reality. It became\nevident, however, that the conflict is, on the contrary, in regard not\nto the interpretation but the fundamental nature of reality; different\nrealities arise which are irreconcilably opposed. The systems do not\noriginate in a common and secure basis: the basis itself is sought, and\nmay assume various forms. The conflict therefore is much more over\nultimate problems than is usually supposed; it arises primarily out of\nthe nature of life itself, out of the inner movement which advances\nagainst the illimitable world around us, and seeks to gain the mastery\nover it. Our life and our world acquire a definite character only by our\ntaking up such a movement of counteraction, the particular nature of\nwhich decides over all further moulding of life. We have seen that when\nwe ourselves became active we took up and emphasised one of the\npossibilities which lie within the range of our life, and held it as\nsupreme over all the rest; we took as the fundamental relation one of\nthe relations of which our life is capable, as, for example, the\nrelation to God, to the immanent reason of the universe, to nature, to\nsociety, to one's own individuality. A particular sphere of life was\nthus marked out; a scheme of life was yielded which appeared capable of\ntaking up all experience into itself: according to the starting-point\nadopted, we sketched a distinctive outline and sought to include the\nwhole content of human industry, man's universe of work--as we might\ncall it--in order to lead to our own perfection. This scheme, assumed to\nbe true, then had to show what it was capable of; a powerful effort was\nbrought forth to overcome the resistance of a world which, even when it\nwas grasped from within, still remained alien to our nature; and,\nultimately, to form the whole into a unity. We were not, as it were, an\nempty vessel into which a content flows from outside, but we generated\nfrom within a movement which went onward and onward, and desired to take\nup everything in itself; it was a matter of radically transforming the\nexternal into an inner life. We could succeed in this only in that life\nself-consciously pressed forward to win new powers; formed connections,\nbranches, and graduations; accomplished an inner construction; and with\nprogressive self-elevation became an all-inclusive whole, which did not\npossess a reality by the side of itself, but itself became complete\nreality. Thus, life took possession of the world only in that it widened\nitself from within to the world, and, in the appropriation of\neverything alien to it, advanced from the original outline to full\nconcreteness.\n\nAccording to the results of our inquiry, the chief decision in the\nstruggle with regard to the nature of the world also depends upon our\ntype of life. We convinced ourselves that there was no conception of\nlife common to the different systems, but that from its starting-point,\nthroughout its whole development, each of them shaped life differently\nfrom the others; and we saw that the differences even went as far as\ncomplete opposition. Each system of life had its own kind of experience;\neach formed its own instruments for the appropriation of the world; each\nsaw of the infinite that in particular which corresponded to the main\ndirection of its own movement. A consideration of all the facts makes it\nquite clear that a decision depends neither upon externals nor upon the\nindividual, but upon the inner life and the whole; and further, that\ncognition does not give a solution to the problems of life, but that\nlife itself has to reach a solution through its own organisation and\nconstruction, its own advance and creative activity.\n\nHowever, that which was the compelling and deciding power in the systems\nof the present day--the struggle for life itself--has not attained to\ncomplete recognition in them. Rather, they were too quick to begin to\noccupy themselves with objects, and sought to show themselves superior\nin this respect to their rivals; the attention to results prevented the\ncorrect appreciation and estimation of experience itself. The\nimpossibility of coming to an agreement concerning the object then\nforced us back to the life-process; and we were led to the view that the\nobject appeared different because we ourselves placed something\ndifferent into it, and that we saw less the object itself than ourselves\nand our life in the object. Thus we were induced to place our attention\nchiefly on the subject; but then there was a strong tendency to leave\nthe world outside as a special realm; and the division of work between\nsubject and object drove us still further into uncertainty. In the\nmidst of such confusion, we did not come to the point of making a\ndecision; we did not attain the position from which alone an agreement\nis possible; at one time one system, at another time another carried us\naway. We failed to recognise that, however much we come into contact\nexternally, we live spiritually in separate worlds; that, while using\nthe same expressions, we speak different languages, and therefore cannot\npossibly understand one another.\n\nThe gain is by no means an insignificant one, and a distinctive\ntreatment arises, if we become clearly conscious of the fact that the\nshaping of the process of life itself is the chief object of conflict;\nthat the movement is not one between world and life, but lies entirely\nwithin life; and that the essential matter is the perfecting of life\nitself. The recognition of this fact leads us to an immanent mode of\ntreatment that has many advantages. The facts involved are now seen to\nlie deeper. The source of experiences is not so much the relation to the\nenvironment as the movement and expansion of life itself. Striving and\nconduct may now involve a certain concreteness; indeed, the actual\nexperiencing of limitations and negations may lead to an elevation above\nthem. The type of life does not seek to justify itself, to show its\ntruth, through harmony with an external world; it is justified by its\nown advance, its increase in strength, and its upward growth. It is only\na justification of this kind, a justification within its own realm, that\ncan acquire a power to convince and to restore again to life that\nconcreteness of which, in opposition to the excess of unrestrained\nreflection and vague feeling, it is to-day in the direst need. If we\ndesire to arise above this state of division, and to attain a greater\nunity, we can achieve our aim only by the power of an inner unification\nof our life.\n\nInstead, therefore, of considering the internal from the point of view\nof the external, we must consider the external from the point of view of\nthe internal; our knowledge must be essentially a knowledge of self, our\nexperience an experience of self, if we would come any nearer to the\nattainment of the aim. Our inner nature is not given to us as something\ncomplete; it has first to be aroused to life and developed; we need to\nattain to a state of self-determining activity if we would reach the\nhighest that we are capable of. From the recognition of the necessity of\ngreater activity, and of seeking the roots of the problem at greater\ndepths, we become aware of a new relation of thought to life. Although\nthought may involve certain fundamental forms, and may adhere to them in\nall its activity, it is life in its totality, as we understand it, which\nfirst gives to thought its more detailed form, a characteristic nature,\nclear aims and sure tendencies. Thought, therefore, is inseparable from\nthe movement and the advance of life; all hope of progress rests on the\nhope of a further deepening of life; a revealing of new relations, and a\ndevelopment of new powers. It is not from mere knowledge, but only from\nthe movement of life as a whole that we can make any advance; but the\nlife here referred to is one that includes knowledge, and not one that\ntakes up a position independent of knowledge, and, in opposition to it,\nbases itself on supposed practical needs.\n\nA treatment such as the one we have indicated has to be followed in the\ninvestigation upon which we are about to enter. The chief aim of this\ninvestigation is to reveal and to call forth life; it is not its chief\naim to interpret life in conceptual terms. It is from this position,\ntherefore, that we ask the question--which the conflict of the different\nsystems of life forced upon us--whether a unity transcending the\noppositions exists in us and can be aroused to life through our\nself-determining activity. It is from this position also that we ask the\nfurther question--which springs out of the struggle between the older\nand the newer modes of thought--whether ultimately man must give up the\nsuperior position which from early times he has adjudged himself, or\nwhether an inner elevation is possible which gives him the power to cope\nwith new tasks and new conditions. Whether such a treatment leads to a\npositive result is a question of fact; and what the answer to this is\ncannot be decided by a preliminary consideration, but only by the actual\ninvestigation.\n\n\n\n\nI. THE MAIN THESIS\n\n(a) THE ASCENT TO THE MAIN THESIS\n\n\nThe most expeditious way of arriving at a comprehensive conception of\nhuman life is to begin with the impression which we get of it as a\nwhole; ascertain what problems arise from this, and seek to make what\nheadway we can in solving them until we reach a stage where the\nnecessity of a particular assertion becomes apparent. From the outset,\nhowever, the attention will be centred chiefly upon that which\ndifferentiates human life from other forms of life existing within our\nknowledge; it is from a consideration of this that we shall most readily\nsee the whole in its proper light.\n\n\n1. MAN AS A BEING OF NATURE\n\nNo one doubts that human life forms the highest point of development\nthat comes within our experience; that it is in some way more than mere\nanimal life. But what it is that is characteristic in human life as\ndistinct from animal life, and how it is to be interpreted, is a matter\nof dispute. From the earliest times there has been a great diversity of\nopinion and conviction concerning this matter, and absolutely\ncontradictory views have been maintained. Some thinkers have believed it\npossible to regard human life, in spite of its uniqueness, as\nessentially the same as that of the animal, and to trace back all\ndifference to a difference in the quantity of the fundamental nature\nwhich they all possess; these thinkers did not concern themselves with\npresenting the higher as developed from the lower by a gradual growth.\nOthers, on the contrary, regarded human life as something essentially\nnew and in its very nature distinct--the beginning of another kind of\nworld--and denied to the uttermost a derivation from lower forms; these\nheld it to be impossible to avoid the recognition of a break between\nanimal and human life. According to which of these positions was\naccepted, life obtained a fundamentally different prospect and a\nfundamentally different task; activity necessarily had different aims\nand sought different paths; the conflict around this problem affected\nthe whole sphere of existence.\n\nAs a result of the movements and experiences of the nineteenth century,\nthis conflict has entered upon a new stage. In earlier times the\ndecision had generally been made as a result of the immediate impression\nof the civilised man who was conscious of his superiority; it did not\nseem possible for him to lift himself far enough above his environment;\nthe life of his soul, through its distinctive spiritual character,\nseemed to be as distinct from every impulse which nature exhibited as\nthe sky is distant from the earth. Science and art, morality and\nreligion were accepted as an original possession of man and as the power\nwhich had dominated his life from the beginning. He appeared to be a\nhigher being; and to direct all thought and endeavour towards the\nstrengthening of the distinctively human was regarded as the chief\nrequirement of life.\n\nThe movements which have arisen in the Modern Age have led to a radical\nchange in our treatment of this question: this change is chiefly due to\nscience. Modern science breaks down the authority of the immediate\nimpression, and, in contrast with it, projects a new representation of\nthe world. Man is no longer looked upon as occupying a position of\nlonely elevation, but is seen to be in the closest concatenation with\nnature around him, and is regarded, finally, as a mere part of its\nmachinery. Many movements of thought tend toward this conclusion and\nsupport one another. The physical relationship which exists between man\nand the animals could not have been so clearly perceived, and traced\nwith such exactitude of detail by modern science had not the fixed\nboundaries, which in our representation had hitherto divided the life of\nthe human soul from that of the animals, been abolished. The new view\nwas further supported by the results of a keener investigation into the\nnature of psychical life, since in this investigation the traditional\nconception was analysed into its individual constituents, and it was\nsought to explain from their combinations even the highest spiritual\nachievements. The result of this modification of ideas was that the\ninner life of man was assimilated much more closely to nature than\nbefore; the juxtaposition and the succession of occurrences gained in\nsignificance; it was recognised that relations did not hold from the\nbeginning but are developed gradually. The forces and impulses which\nwere operative in this development seemed to have arisen from an actual\nprocess of nature, without any co-operation of human caprice. Our\npsychical life appeared to be nothing more than a continuation of\nnature. The great divergence between the heights attained in experience,\nand the theories that were formulated to account for them, caused no\nmisgivings because the idea of a gradual evolution during an indefinite\nperiod of time was sufficient to bridge the widest gulf. At the same\ntime the conception of society allied itself with that of history and\nlent its support to the general tendency. Every higher aspect of life\nthat was accepted formerly as a proof of a supernatural order now became\na witness to historico-social relationship and, with its new\ninterpretation, lost its old mysteriousness. All this was, of course,\nonly on the assumption that human life brings nothing essentially new\nwith it. Not the least doubt as to the validity of this assumption came\nto those who entered upon this train of thought.\n\nThought was able to follow this course with the greater confidence\nbecause it went hand in hand with a change in practical life. By reason\nof the development of modern life, man's relations to the environment\nhave become increasingly significant to man. Modern industry and\nphysical science have led him from a preponderatingly contemplative\nrelation to his environment to an active one; infinite prospects have\nbeen disclosed; the forces of nature have been pressed more and more\ninto the service of mankind. But even in the service which they render\nman these forces have won a power over him, since with a determining\npower they keep his activity and his thought bent upon themselves. The\nmaterial side of life has escaped from the mean estimation in which it\nhad previously been held, if not in the conduct of individuals, yet at\nthe height of spiritual culture: to the present age it has become the\nindispensable basis of all development. The social movement, with its\nsummoning of the masses to complete participation in happiness and\nculture, supports the tendency to estimate material goods more highly.\nWith the cessation of oppression and necessity, and with the increase of\nmaterial well-being, a general advance and an inner development of life\nseem assured. The whole tendency which we have considered exhibits man\nas solely and entirely a part of nature, even though nature may be\nconceived of more broadly than it was formerly; and the life of the\nsociety and of the individual as being determined by natural forces and\nsubject to natural laws. How, along with this tendency, the traditional\nconception of the world has been completely transformed; how biology, in\nthe sense of natural science, has been taken as the leading point of\nview for the explanation of life, it is unnecessary to follow further,\nsince our consideration of the naturalistic system of life has already\ngiven us an insight into this matter.\n\n\n2. THE GROWTH OF MAN BEYOND NATURE\n\nBut even after we had seen an older type of life disappear and a new one\nwith the power of youth rise up, gain mastery over souls, and transform\nconditions, despite all its triumphs the new movement manifested\nlimitations--limitations which did not arouse the criticism of the\nthinker, but with the compulsion of an actual power the opposition of\nthe developing life of mankind. That which we became aware of in this\nconnection will become even more clear to us, and impel us to seek for\nnew aims, if we now concentrate our attention upon the process of life\nand follow it throughout its experiences.\n\nThere cannot be the least doubt that we belong to nature: no one can\nfail to recognise that it penetrates deep into the life of the soul, and\nto a marked extent impresses its own form upon that life: the boundary\ntherefore is not between man and nature, but within the soul of man\nitself. But whether nature is able to claim the whole life of the soul,\nor whether at some point there does not arise an insuperable opposition\nto such a claim, is another question. Even the most zealous champion of\nthe claims of nature cannot deny that man achieves something\ndistinctive: we not only belong to nature, we also have knowledge of the\nfact; and this knowledge is in itself sufficient to show that we are\nmore than nature. For in knowledge, be it in the first place however\nmeanly conceived, however much concerned with the simple representation\nof external occurrences, there is a kind of life other than that which\nis shown in the simultaneity and succession of events at the level of\nnature. For it is a characteristic of knowledge that in it we hold the\nsingle points present together and connect them into a chain; but how\ncould we do that without in some way rising above the mere succession\nand surveying it from a transcendent point? In this survey we pass from\nearlier to later, from later to earlier; and at the same time we are\nable to hold the multiplicity together: there must be a unity of some\nkind ruling within us; but the mechanism of nature can never produce\nsuch a unity. A transcendence of nature therefore is already\naccomplished in the process of thought, even when it only represents\nnature, only displays it to our consciousness. Intellectual achievement,\nhowever, is by no means exhausted in the representation of nature. The\ndevelopment of a new scientific conception of nature sufficiently\ndemonstrates, as we saw reason to believe, that thought has far more\nindependence than such representation implies; that in arranging and\ntransforming phenomena it opposes itself to the environment. For the\nscientific conception of nature is not offered to us immediately as\nsomething complete; it has to be won from the na\u00efve view with toil and\ndifficulty. In order to arrive at this scientific conception, thought\nmust have a position antecedent to the impressions, must become\nconscious of itself, realise its own strength, and in its activity lead\nfrom universal to universal. The work of thought is not simply\ntransitional: without its continuance that which has been gained would\nbe quickly lost. Mere existence gives to nature no present reality for\nour thought and life. To follow the pathway to reality involves the\noverthrow of manifold delusions; and this necessitates such a longing\nfor truth, and a power to gain truth, as only a thought, which\ntranscends the sense impression, can produce. Not only is transcendence\nof nature demonstrated through the fact of the existence of thought with\nsuch independence, thought also carries within its being unique demands,\nmeasures the life of nature by their standard, and in that life\nrecognises limitations not simply on this side and that, but also in the\ninner being of the whole. Thought cannot possibly be satisfied with the\nstate of things as they are presented; it desires to illuminate,\npenetrate, and comprehend it; it asks \"Whence?\" and \"Why?\"--it insists\nthat events must have a meaning and be rational. And from this point of\nview it feels the mere actuality of nature--which excites no opposition\nwithin its own sphere--to be a painful limitation and constraint,\nsomething dark and meaningless. To thought, a life which is swayed by\nblind natural impulse must be inadequate, indeed intolerable. Similar\nconflicts arise in other directions. Thought embraces a whole and\ndemands a whole; it cannot refrain from passing a judgment upon the\nwhole. If this treatment is applied by thought to nature, the\npredominant concentration of life in the single individuals and their\njuxtaposition will appear to be a serious defect; all the passionate\nstrivings of the individual beings cannot deceive us concerning the\ninner emptiness of the whole. For in nature there is nothing that\nexperiences the whole of this movement as a whole; makes the experience\nself-conscious and something of value in itself. In the movement of\nnature everything individual is sacrificed; and there seems to be\nnothing to which this sacrifice brings results which are experienced as\na good. The same holds good of a culture that resolves human social\nrelationship into a simple co-existence of individuals, regards them as\nbattling together in the struggle for existence, and believes all\nprogress of the whole to be dependent upon their ceaseless and pitiless\nconflict. Even if such a conflict leads to further external results,\nthere is no spiritual product: the results are experienced by no one as\nan inner gain. The indescribable meanness of this whole culture, swayed\nas it is solely by the spirit of egoism; the slavish dependence to which\nthis culture condemns man; the rigour of the individualism that rules in\nit, cannot possibly escape from the criticism of thought. Thought, in\ntransforming this condition of things into an experience--that is, in\nmaking us conscious of it--at the same time makes it impossible for man\nto accept it as final. Since it makes us more conscious of the\nlimitations of this state of life, thought demonstrates--and that\nthrough this very consciousness of its limitations itself--that our\nwhole existence is not exhausted by that individualisation and\ndetachment, but that there is a tendency of some sort within us which\nstrives towards the unity of the whole.\n\nProblems no less complex arise in relation to time. Looked at from the\npoint of view of nature, no inconsistency is felt in the fact that only\na short span of time is granted to the life of individuals; that they\ncome and go in most rapid succession. For here the individuals do not\nrise to the consideration of anything beyond their own time; their\npresentation and desire are exhausted in the present; they feel no\nlonging for a continuation of life. The position is radically changed\nwith the entrance of thought. Thought does not drift along with time: as\ncertainly as it strives to attain truth, it must rise above time and its\ntreatment must be timeless: a timeless validity appertains to truth, a\ncomprehension of things \"under the form of eternity\" (_sub specie\naeternitatis_). To a being who, in his thought, rises to comprehension\nof experience from the point of view of the eternal, all temporal\nlimitation, and especially the short duration of human life, is a source\nof surprise and a contradiction. The rapid sequence of generations, the\nperpetual decay of all that impels us so forcibly to desire life and\nholds us so firmly to it, seem to deprive our endeavour of all its\nvalue, and give to the whole of existence a shadowy, phantom-like\ncharacter. Feelings of this kind have been aroused anew in our own time.\nThe restlessness of the activities of our civilisation and the lack of\nreal meaning in this civilisation, which to the present age seems to\nconstitute the whole of life, need only to be clearly and forcibly\ncomprehended by thought, and all its bustle and all its passion cannot\nprevent the emergence of an acute feeling of its dream-like nature.\n\nThe feeling of the lack of reality and depth in the life of nature will\nbecome the keener in proportion to the degree of independence thought\nevolves. For the more thought finds its own basis in itself, the more\nwill it treat nature as an appearance, the more clearly will it\nrecognise that sense, with all its obviousness and palpability, does not\nguarantee the possession of truth; for truth comes to us only through\nthought. In thought, therefore, the world of nature loses its immediacy\nand becomes a realm of appearances and phantoms.\n\nA consideration of all the facts leads us to the result that a life\nconsisting solely of nature and intelligence involves an intolerable\ninconsistency: form and content are sharply separated from each other;\nthought is strong enough to disturb the sense of satisfaction with\nnature, but is too weak to construct a new world in opposition to it.\nLife is in a state of painful uncertainty, and man is a \"Prometheus\nbound\" in that he must needs experience all the constraint and\nmeaninglessness of the life of nature, and must suffer therefrom an\nincreasing pain without being able to change this state in any way.\n\nThe experience of our time confirms this conclusion in no indefinite\nmanner. Since, with regard to the material and the technical, we have\nattained heights never before reached, the bonds between us and our\nenvironment have increased a thousandfold, and our work has united us\nmore closely with the world, we seem now for the first time to attain a\nsure hold of reality. At the same time, however, the activity of\nthought, and with it unrestrained reflection, have also increased\nimmeasurably in modern life. This reflection forbids all na\u00efve\nsubmission to the immediacy of nature; destroys all feeling of security;\nand comes between us and our own soul, our own volition. We are thrown\nback once more on to the world of sense, that we may seek in it a\nsupport and a scope for our life and effort; and from the point of view\nof this world the work of thought appears to be a formation of clouds.\nBut this formation persists; draws us back again to itself and, with all\nits insubstantiality, proves strong enough to make us regard the\nphysical as appearance. Our life is divided into two parts which cannot\nand will not coalesce. The emergence of a new life, which can do nothing\nbut comprehend the other in thought, and which, while it is indeed\ncapable of depreciating the other, cannot itself advance further, is\nseen to involve a monstrous inconsistency.\n\nIf the union of nature and intelligence produces so much confusion, we\nare inevitably led to ask whether man does not possess in himself more\nthan thought; whether thought is not rooted in a deeper and a more\ncomprehensive life, from which it derives its power. It is not necessary\nthat such a life should be manifest to us in all its completeness; we\nshall also be compelled to acknowledge it as a fact even if in the first\nplace it has to struggle up in face of opposition; however, in its\ndevelopment it must show distinctive contents and powers which could not\nbe the work of a subjective reflection. If there is a life and a\ndevelopment of this kind, it will be necessary for us to comprehend it\nin its various aspects and tendencies, and only when we have\naccomplished this may we endeavour to obtain a representation of the\nwhole.\n\nNow, developments of life which defy limitation by the mechanism of\nnature and set a new kind of being in opposition to it do, in truth,\nappear. We recognise such developments in the processes by which life\nliberates itself from bondage to an individualism and its subjectivity,\nand afterwards attains a self-conscious inwardness. We may consider both\nthese developments somewhat more in detail. So far as man belongs to\nnature, his conduct is determined solely by the impulse to\nself-preservation; every movement must either directly or indirectly\ntend to the welfare of the individual; everything may be traced back to\nwhat happens to the individuals. This by no means indicates a distinct\nseparation of man from his environment. For even the mechanism of nature\nclosely unites that which happens to the individual with that which\nhappens around him; the individual can progress only in so far as he is\nunited with others: he cannot advance his own well-being without\nadvancing that of others. Even in a \"state of nature\" man takes his\nfamily, his nation, and the whole of humanity indeed, up into his\ninterests; and as this tendency is not bounded from without, but may be\nimmeasurably refined and extended in an indefinite number of directions,\nit easily comes to appear that this involves an inner deliverance from\nself, and that another is of value to us for his own sake. But it is no\nmore than an appearance; for with all the external agreement the inward\nseparation is far greater, and amounts to opposition. Within the limits\nof nature we can certainly concern ourselves with something which is\nonly indirectly useful to us; but we can never be concerned with\nanything which is devoid of all use to ourselves; we cannot take such a\ndirect interest in the welfare of others as will tend to our own\ndisadvantage. If experience gives evidence of such an activity and such\nan interest, in so doing it demonstrates a transcendence of nature. Now,\nexperience does give such evidence, and indeed with irresistible\nclearness. A witness to this is seen in the zeal with which man\nhabitually attempts to give to his struggles for mere self-preservation\na better appearance, a semblance of conduct performed out of genuine\nregard for the interests of others. To what purpose all this trouble to\nacquire such an appearance; for what reason this hypocrisy which\npermeates the whole of human life; and whence this appearance itself if\nwe belong solely and entirely to nature? Further, whatever elements of\nsemblance there may be in the general state of human life, the\ndevelopment of that life is by no means nothing but semblance. The\nsocial life of man is not explicable as a simple collection of\nindividuals related to one another in different ways; but in the family,\nin the state, in humanity as a whole there is evolved an inner unity, a\nsphere of life with distinctive values and contents. And as it is of the\nnature of these to transcend the ends and aims of the individuals, to\narouse other feelings and stimulate to other efforts, so their demands\nmay be directly opposed to those of individual self-preservation. Man\nsees himself compelled to decide whether he will pursue his own welfare\nor that of the whole: from the necessity of a decision it is impossible\nto escape. However much in the majority of cases self-interest may\npreponderate, we cannot dispute the possibility of his acting in direct\nand conscious opposition to his own interest; of his subordinating and\nsacrificing himself; and of his doing this \"not grudgingly nor of\nnecessity,\" but willingly and gladly; of his feeling this subordination\nto be not a negation and a limitation, but an affirmation and an\nexpansion of his life. All who strive for some essential renewal and\nelevation of human life base their hope and trust upon such a\ndisposition. A renewal and an elevation of life involve far too much\ntoil, conflict, and danger; they demand a renunciation and a sacrifice\nfar too great for them to be commended to us by consideration of our own\nwelfare, or for them to dispense with the necessity of counting upon an\nunselfish submission, a sincere sympathy, a genuine love. That which was\nproduced with glowing passion in heroic beginnings must with a quieter\nwarmth pervade all progress also. An inner community of minds is\nindispensable if the whole of culture is not to become a soulless\nmechanism and inwardly alien to us. It is true that the external way of\nregarding the facts of life often fuses together as one, lower and\nhigher, a continuation of nature and the beginning of a new life.\nLanguage also supports this tendency, since it indicates fundamentally\ndifferent psychical states with the same terms. Yet the love in which\nthe union with others is sought only in order to advance one's own\ninterests, and the love which finds in this union a release from the\nlimitations of the natural _ego_, and gains a new life, remain distinct.\nThe sympathy which feels the sufferings of others to be unpleasant\nbecause one's own complacency is disturbed by them, and which in\nconsequence fades away and disappears as soon as the sight of the\nsuffering comes to an end, is absolutely separated from a sympathy which\nextends to the soul of the other, and possessing which, in order to\ncontribute to the relieving of the other's need, one willingly\nsacrifices one's own complacency: a sympathy, therefore, which extends\nits interest and help without limit beyond all that simply has to do\nwith the relation to the environment. How much real love and genuine\nsympathy the experience of humanity shows is a question in itself. Even\nas possibilities of our being, as matters of thought which occupy our\nattention, and as tasks and problems, they give evidence of a\ndevelopment of our life beyond the limits of nature.\n\nThis forgetfulness of self is a kind of deliverance of life from the\nlimitations and the interests of the individual: a new relation of man\nto man, of person to person, thus arises and brings about an essential\nchange, indeed a complete transformation of aims and feelings. The\ndeliverance is effected in another direction with the emergence of a\nnew relation to things, to the object. In the realm of nature everything\nthat is external has a value for man only as a means and an instrument\nto the advancement of his own welfare; from the point of view of nature,\nit is impossible to understand how a thing could attract us on account\nof a content and a value of its own. As a matter of fact, the object\ndoes attract us and acquire a power over us in this manner, and this not\nmerely here and there but over a wide area in movements which affect and\ntransform the whole of life. Nothing else differentiates work--viewed\nspiritually--from other activity, and nothing else elevates work above\nother activity than this: that in work the object is inwardly present;\nand that man may make its moulding and extension a motive, and find this\na source of joy. This seems to be something self-evident, only because\nit happens daily to us and around us; and we do not recognise a new type\nof life in it, simply because in human life it is usual to find that\nwork only gradually attains complete independence. For it is the\npressing necessity of life, the impulse to self-preservation, that first\narouses us from our natural inactivity and compels us to occupy\nourselves with things; and in this change from inactivity to activity it\nis our own advantage that we first seek. But that which to us, to\ncommence with, was simply a means; that which was perhaps most\nunwillingly done, begins to attract and hold us more and more for its\nown sake; becomes an end in itself, and is able so to charm us that it\nforces the idea of utility completely into the background. It is\npossible for work to become so attractive, and of such a value in our\nestimation, that to ensure its success we can make sacrifices, and can\npursue it in direct opposition to our own welfare. Only when the object\nis regarded and treated in this manner can it win an inner proximity to\nus; reveal to us its relations; develop characteristic laws; make\ndemands upon us and call forth our power to meet them. In this way it\nconstrains us, but the constraint is not exerted upon us from without,\nbut proceeds from our own decision and activity. We do not feel the\nrelation to be an oppression, but rather as a witness to our freedom; in\nthe subordination to the object we feel that we are caught up into a\nlife more comprehensive, clearer and richer than any we can develop from\nthe subjective. We reach a stability and a calm in ourselves, and have\nwithin our own being a support against all vacillation and error. Work,\ntherefore, produces relations which on the one hand unify the endeavour\nof the individual and fashion his life as a definite whole; and on the\nother, bind humanity into a creative community. In the former case we\nhave vocation, with its demands and its limitations, it is true, but\nwith them also its strengthening and its elevation of life; in the\nlatter complexes of work develop in whole departments of life, in which\nthe individuals find themselves side by side and are ultimately united\ninto the community of an all-inclusive whole of culture. From this\nsomething is evolved which is independent not only of the choice but\nalso of the interests of mere man: a kingdom of truth, a world of\nthought transcending all human subjectivity is formed. Thus we see\nsomething grow up within the human sphere which leads man beyond\nhimself, and which is valid not simply for him but even in opposition to\nhim. The whole matter bristles with problems: from the point of view of\nthe life of nature this new life must appear to be an insoluble riddle;\nand yet it has far too much value and certitude to be banished as\nimaginary.\n\nAlong with this detachment of life from the mere individual and the mere\nsubjectivity of man, there is a liberation from external ties, and the\ndevelopment of a self-conscious spirituality. As at the level of nature\nlife is spent in the development of relations with the environment, in\naction and reaction, so the form of life in man remains bound, since the\nlife of the soul cannot dissociate itself from the experience of sense.\nThe apparent inwardness that is evolved at this level is simply an\nafter-effect of sensuous feelings and desires. So far as the life of\nnature extends, the forces and laws of the life of the soul will only\nrefine what the external world exhibits in coarser features. The\nmechanism of nature also extends into human life; natural impulses of\nconduct, as well as association of ideas, reveal the fact that the life\nof the soul is in complete dependence upon natural conditions. From this\npoint of view it seems impossible that inwardness should ever become\nindependent. The actual experience of human life, however, shows that\nwhat is thus regarded as impossible is indisputably real. The detachment\nfrom the mere subjectivity of the _ego_ and the development of universal\nvalues, which exist over against us, can be effected only if the basis\nof life lies deeper than the contact with the environment. It was a work\nof thought which brought about the transition and gave birth to the new\nlife; only with the help of thought did it ever become possible to form\nrelations of a new kind and to rouse man's interest in them. The\nrealities which arose were not of sense but conceptual, ideal. The more\nthis movement increased in extent, the more human existence was\ntransformed into realities of thought. Is not such a transformation\nevident when in ourselves we see before all else, not the sensuous being\nof nature, but a personality or an individuality; when in relationship\nwith one another we form the idea of the state, and feel that we are\nourselves members of the state; when we regard and value the cognate\nbeings around us from the conception of humanity? As a matter of fact, a\nstrong tendency in this direction runs through the whole history of\nhumanity: sense does not disappear, but is taken up more and more into\nsomething conceptual; the world of thought gives us increasingly the\npoint of view from which we fashion our lives. We find a progressive\nspiritualisation of religion, of morality, of law, of the whole life of\nculture. In everything life seeks a deeper basis; an inwardness wins an\nindependence of the environment, and exercises on the environment a\ntransforming power. The relations and the order of the realities of\nthought manifest a law different from that of sense presentations with\ntheir mere juxtaposition. For in the former case an inner unity, an\nobjective relation is evolved, and the significance of the individual\nmember is estimated according to its position in the whole. The\ndistinctive attributes in a conception form no mere collection, and the\nstatement of a syllogism no mere sequence; rather, in both, a\ncomprehending act of thought grasps the manifold and arranges the\nseparate elements according to their relationship within the whole. The\ncourse of presentation with its mere succession is by no means simply\nsuppressed through this development of thought; it persists and governs\nconsciousness on the surface. But the surface is not the totality of the\nintellectual life; through it and transcending it an activity of thought\nmanifests itself, forms new connections, and maintains itself against\nall opposition.\n\nAccordingly, the power that thought exercises is fundamentally different\nfrom the physical power of association, or even of custom. In the case\nof thought there is an insistence upon a consistent and related whole\nwhich, even though externally insignificant, produces most powerful\neffects. If contradictions exist in our world of thought and condition\nof life, they may become intolerable, and the desire to remove them lead\nto the emergence of impetuous movements. If, on the other hand, we\nrecognise that certain things which formerly seemed to be unrelated,\neven though they existed side by side, are really inwardly related; or\nif, again, an assertion involves a consequence that has not hitherto\nbeen deduced, then the demand, that these things shall be unified and\nthis consequence developed, is capable of breaking down even the\nstrongest opposition. In this matter an invisible is capable of more\nthan a visible power. Of course, thought in isolation has not such a\npower; it acquires it only through its relation to a wider life and in\nchampioning the cause of that life. For thought is wont to defend the\nlife of the individual, of a people, a historical situation of humanity,\non the one hand from an abundance of inconsistencies, and on the other\nfrom dissolution and incompleteness, without any conflict growing out of\nit. Life as we experience it immediately is anything but a regular\nlogic of the schools. In itself simple perception of the fact that an\ninconsistency exists, or that ideas which have been regarded as valid\nrequire further development, need not arouse the feeling of man and lead\nhim to assert his activity; he can acquiesce, and leave the condition of\nthings unaltered; he can voluntarily resign himself to the\ninconsistencies and incompleteness. But, nevertheless, there is a point\nat which this condition of inconsistency can be endured no longer, at\nwhich to transcend it becomes the dominant task of life. This point is\nreached when the confusion is no longer something external to us which\nwe contemplate, but enters into the substance of our life, so that the\ninconsistency becomes a division, and an attitude of inconsequence\ntowards it a limitation of our own being. The solving of the problem\nthen becomes an essential part of our spiritual preservation. And in\nthat it commands the whole energy and passion of such preservation it\ncan do that of which thought, with its necessity, is not in itself\ncapable, it can rouse our whole life to activity and break down even the\nstrongest opposition. It is from the inner presence of a determining and\nmoulding process of life that thought itself first obtains a\ncharacteristic form, and is able to impress it upon things, and so\nsubject them to itself. A spiritual self-preservation of this kind is\nfundamentally different from all physical self-preservation: for the\nformer, it is not a matter of the self asserting its place in the\nco-existence of things, but of becoming an independent inward nature,\nand of establishing a distinctive whole of life. The exact significance\nof spiritual self-preservation is for the present obscure enough; but\nwhatever it may be, it derives its power from within and not from\ncontact with the environment.\n\nHow deeply these inner movements are rooted in human life the so-called\nhistorical ideas show with particular clearness. Certain thought\ncomplexes, or rather certain tendencies of life, arise, and win an\noverwhelming power in opposition to all narrowly human concerns. They\nforce the activity of mankind into particular channels; they follow out\ntheir consequences with pitiless rigour; they speak to us in a tone of\ncommand, and require absolute obedience. Neither the interests of\nindividuals nor those of whole classes prevail against them; every\nconsideration of utility vanishes before their inner necessity. The\nhistory of religions, for example, has often shown such an astonishing\nconsistency in the following of characteristic tendencies that their\nadherents could see in it the working of a divine spirit. Similarly, the\nEnlightenment, in its time with overpowering might seized minds and\npenetrated deeply into every department of life; to-day we have a\nsimilar experience in the case of the social movement. On all sides\nsomething is acknowledged as an imperative requirement, as indispensable\nfor the spiritual persistence of man--something which cannot be brought\nin from outside, and which may indeed be entirely inconsistent with\nexternal conditions. Has not the conflict of inner necessities with the\nexternal circumstances that were opposed to them been a leading motive\npower in history, and is not all genuine progress achieved through such\nan opposition?\n\nAgain, the great force that has been exerted in the movement of history\nin the detection and the elimination of contradictions can be explained\nonly in this context. Logic, as we saw, played an unassuming r\u00f4le in\nthis matter, and the indolence of man always inclined to easy\naccommodation and compromise. It was the increased vital energy, the\nadoption of a particular issue as the main issue, that made movements,\nwhich had long existed in a state of harmony and peace, irreconcilable\nenemies, and drove them to a life-and-death struggle. With a lower level\nof spiritual activity the Middle Ages unsuspiciously united a religion\nof ecclesiastical organisation with a religion of personal feeling and\ndisposition; and it did not feel that there was an inconsistency in\ntheir union so much as that one was the completion of the other. As soon\nand so far, however, as in the Modern Age spirituality won more\nindependence and more self-consciousness, and felt itself to be the\ncentre of the whole, it was inevitable that a dependence upon an\nexternal order should be experienced only as an intolerable oppression;\nand the division of life between the one and the other became an\nimpossibility. It was necessary only that a powerful and passionate\npersonality, like that of Luther, should take up the problem, and make\nit the sole object of his effort, and the hour of revolution had come.\nHow meanly they think of the controlling forces of history who would\ntrace back such changes to the selfishness or the vanity of individuals!\nLooked at from our point of view, the inner changes within the life of\nuniversal history often appear to be simplifications--cases of energetic\nconcentration on the essential, and of fundamental separation of the\nsubsidiary. The truly great carry on a ceaseless conflict against the\nchaotic confusion which the life of the majority is wont to produce ever\nanew--a condition in which matters of the first importance are confused\nwith those that are subsidiary; all inner gradation is lacking; and the\ngreat is treated as something insignificant, and the insignificant as\nsomething great. There is a struggle to secure a clear differentiation\nand gradation; to establish a centre, and to transform life into a\ngenuinely self-conscious life. Have not all the principal revivals of\nreligion, of morality, of education, been simplifications?\n\nThese movements show life in a particular form; something emerges in it\nwhich, unconcerned with the weal and the woe of man, follows its own\ncourse and makes absolute demands; and, more than anything else,\ndisturbs and destroys his calmness and complacency. How heavily Germany\nhas had to pay for the movement of the Reformation by being thrown back\npolitically, nationally, and economically! It is inevitable that all\nmovements of an ideal kind, the social movement of the present included,\nshould appear from the point of view of natural well-being, troublesome\nand pernicious disturbances. They can be regarded as something higher\nonly when we acknowledge that life does not consist entirely in external\nrelations, or in the endeavour to attain harmony with the environment,\nbut that an inner task grows out of life itself, and first gives to\nhuman existence a value and a dignity.\n\nIn the development of a self-consciousness and of a movement of life\nitself, we rise above the motive of utility, by which nature is swayed.\nIt is a moral element in the widest sense; it is the consciousness of\nsomething objectively necessary, unconditionally transcending the ends\nof the narrowly human, that first gives to convictions axiomatic\ncertainty and to conduct the right energy. This moral element attains to\na more independent display in the moral self-judgment of man that is\ncalled \"conscience.\" True, this conception has been the subject of much\nerror and has been much over-estimated. Not only has the moral judgment\nless power over man than is frequently assumed, but that which is called\nconscience is often--generally, in fact--nothing more than a by-product\nof custom and of accommodation in human social life. In this case the\ninner life has still attained no independence, but remains dependent\nupon the environment; and the disposition thus produced is nothing more\nthan a feeling of aversion to the results of conduct, nothing more nor\nless than concealed fear of punishment--a state of the soul which the\nmost prominent thinkers have, with good reason, stigmatised as a\nmanifestation of weakness and cowardice. But, however much that is\nforeign to it and of an inferior order may have been associated with\nconscience, nevertheless, judging conduct, as it does, according to the\ninward disposition and not according to consequences, conscience is a\nunique, original phenomenon. To whatever extent conscience, as we know\nit, may have had its source in something external, and in however great\na degree it may depend upon changing circumstances, it is nevertheless\nimpossible to explain the fundamental fact by reference to the\nenvironment. For, if our life depended solely and entirely upon the\nenvironment and no movement arose from within, all influence from\nwithout could do nothing but subdue us by sheer force; there could never\nbe an independent recognition and acceptance of the command addressed\nto us; never the feeling of an inner responsibility for conduct; never\nan independent extension of the original precept; and yet all these\nphenomena are in fact found in human experience. True, we are affected\nvery greatly by external forces; but that they may achieve what they do\na movement from within must meet them, take them up, and carry them\nfurther. The enormous amount of pretence which flourishes amongst us\nwith regard to matters of morality, and which so easily obscures our\nvision for the chief matter, would be unintelligible if the spiritual\ndid not manifest some kind of independence in the moral judgment. Unless\nthere is such a development towards independence, the moral judgment\nmust also, as far as its content is concerned, be determined by the\ncondition of the social environment: it could never follow a course of\nits own; never give rise to anything new; never enter into inner\nconflict with the environment. Yet, as a matter of fact, we find these\ntendencies in abundance. The individual is able, in the light of his own\nmoral conviction, to approve and value something which all around him\nreject; and conversely, to condemn and reject something which all around\nhim esteem and respect; and this he is able to do under the compulsion\nof inner necessity, and not simply out of a love of vain paradox. This\nopposition of individuals to the condition of things in the social\nenvironment has been the main source of all inner progress in matters of\nmorality. For it is in matters of morality, in particular, that that\nwhich hitherto had given no offence has become intolerable to\nindividuals; and that new and imperative demands such as had never been\nmade before have emerged with constraining power. Or did the idea of\nhumanity, the abolition of slavery, and the commandment to love one's\nenemies, for example, arise in some other way? If in respect of such\nmatters as these that which on its first appearance was paradoxical\nquickly came to be regarded as self-evident, what else was operative in\nbringing about this result than an inner necessity, from which, when\nonce we become conscious of it, we can never again escape? Suitable\nconditions in the social environment were, of course, also necessary for\nthe fulfilment and the extension of those moral requirements; but they\ncould never have originated from the environment, or have derived from\nit their unconditional nature, their certainty of victory, and their\nindifference to all external consequences: qualities without which they\ncould not have effected what they have.\n\nIn the life of the individual the moral judgment manifests its power in\naffirmation as well as in negation. If it approves one's disposition and\nconduct, it gives to life a greater stability and joyfulness; if it\ncondemns, then existence is paralysed by division. In this experience it\nis implicitly assumed that the distinction of good and evil has its\nsource neither in the preferences of the human individual nor in those\nof the human society; but that in this antithesis a new order that is\npresent only to the inner nature is revealed.\n\nWe see, therefore, that in contrast with its attachment to the external,\nlife attains an independent inwardness which we are compelled to\nacknowledge, however mysterious the inward may at present be to us, and\nhowever little we may be able to define its nature more closely. Earlier\nin our investigation we were led to recognise a movement of life from\nthe narrowness of the individual to the comprehensiveness of the whole.\nIt is obvious that our two results are closely connected with each other\nand refer to each other. For we attain a unity, as contrasted with the\njuxtaposition of the elements of the visible world, only through a\npowerful activity from within; but this activity cannot emerge unless\nlife forms a whole in contrast with its dissipation into disconnected\npoints.\n\nThese two developments are obviously sides of the same life--a life\nwhich bears a totally different character from that of the psychical\nlife which forms a mere continuation of nature. Within the soul itself\nthere is a distinction between two levels, of which that other than\nnature may in agreement with established usage be called \"spiritual,\"\nhowever little may be implied by this expression; however mysterious,\nindeed, the conception may for the present be. In contrast with the old,\nthis new level is unmistakably at a disadvantage. The old seems to\ninclude the whole range of human existence; the new, on the other hand,\nmust toilsomely struggle for a place of some kind. Nevertheless, in\nspite of its external insignificance, the spiritual gives birth to a\nmovement of no mean character; in face of all opposition it seeks to\nform a centre of life of its own, and to make this the chief basis of\neffort; it is to be found thus in the life of mankind as revealed in\nhistory, and also in that of the individual. Within the conception of\nculture we comprehend all achievements distinctive of man. But what is\nculture if it does not assure to man a position independent of nature;\nif it does not set up ideals which can arise only out of a new life?\nUltimately the chief motive-power of culture is the longing of mankind\nfor a new kind of being in contrast to that of nature. Culture\nnecessarily becomes superficial and empty when it directs human striving\nto external objects and does not lead through all occupation with\nexternals to its own development and to the advance of its own being.\nThe work of culture is genuine and powerful only when man seeks in it\nhis own true and ultimate self.\n\nHow every development of the spiritual advances towards the attainment\nof a new unity of life may be more clearly seen in the case of the\nindividual, in relation to whom we meet with the conceptions of\npersonality and of spiritual individuality. However much confusion there\nmay be in the ordinary use of these conceptions, the conception of\npersonality merits the estimation in which it is held only if it is\nregarded as the bearer of a new life in contrast to that of nature, and\nnot simply as something added to nature. The development is more evident\nwith the conception of spiritual individuality. For such an\nindividuality is by no means something given to a man in the natural\ncharacteristics which he brings with him into life. Within this\nparticular nature, as a rule, many things, significant and\ninsignificant--things which are original in himself and things which are\ndue to external influence--are chaotically confused; and, as it lacks an\ninner unity and an adjustment of the different aspects, one aspect may\ndirectly contradict another. If the individual is no more than these\nnatural characteristics, he can become active as a whole only through a\nsummation of the multiplicity, and not through a dominating and\norganising unity. With the transition to the new kind of life a desire\nfor such a unity awakens and gives rise to a definitely characteristic\nmovement. A unity must be found within us in some manner; it must be\nincluded in the range of possibilities open to us. But in order to\nobtain supremacy it must be grasped, be appropriated and strengthened by\nour self-activity. We ourselves therefore become a task in the treatment\nof which it is possible to fall into serious error. Looked at from this\npoint of view our spiritual nature is seen to be the product of our own\nactivity. We cannot fail to recognise a peculiar interweaving of freedom\nand fate in our existence.\n\nThe inner history of all creative minds shows how great may be the\ninspiration and the tension which arise in this striving to realise a\nspiritual nature; an inspiration and a tension which are evident even\nwhen the main direction for the realisation of this nature has been\neasily found and only the more detailed form has to be sought: they are\nstill more apparent when the main direction itself is in question. How\ntoilsome it has often been for a man to come to that in which his\nstrength lay, and with the aid of reflection to attain a state of secure\ncreative activity; to unite all forces to a common achievement; and to\nmake a distinct advance beyond the traditional position of the spiritual\nlife! Life was by no means a completed gift and something to be easily\nenjoyed, even in the case of natures lavishly equipped by destiny--as,\nfor example, Goethe: it was in a struggle for itself that it won a\ncomplete independence and a proud superiority over everything external.\nThis struggle was being fought in all his cares, in all thought for\nnatural and social well-being, all utilitarian considerations in regard\nto the externals of life. It gave to the man amid all his doubts and\nagitations the certainty of being something unique, something\nindispensable; at the same time it lifted him into an invisible world,\nand enabled him to understand his own life as an end complete in itself.\nHow different this is from the struggle for existence, for the\npreservation of physical life; and how clearly a new life, another kind\nof reality, arises in these movements! The new life does not by any\nmeans appear only at the heights of spiritual creation; rather it would\nbe true to say that the life which is present in the whole of human\nexistence becomes most easily discernible at these heights. The movement\ntowards a spiritual individuality may be begun in the most simple\nconditions; and it is not to be estimated according to the degree of its\nachievement. For, where world stands against world, everything depends\nupon the decision with regard to the fundamental principle, and this may\nbe made at any point. The mere possibility of making such a decision\ntestifies here irrefutably to a reality: the reality of a new order of\nthings.\n\n\n3. THE INNER CONTRADICTION OF THE NEW LIFE\n\nThe conclusion we are led to is that a new life distinct from that of\nnature arises in our soul. With a great diversity of manifestations, it\nsurrounds us with an indisputable actuality; no one can fail to\nrecognise that something of importance, something distinctive comes to\npass in us. But as soon as we try to comprehend these manifestations as\na whole, and to ascertain the meaning of the whole, a difficult problem\narises. It is comparatively easy, however, to come to an understanding\nas to the negative aspect of the matter. It is obvious that the new life\nis not an embellishment or a continuation of nature; it would bring with\nit something essentially new. Again, it is obvious that it is not a\nproduct of a single psychical function, such as thought or feeling; it\nwould form a whole transcending the psychical functions, and from this\nwhole determine the form of each function distinctively. But what is\nthis new reality and this whole to which the course of the movement\ntrends? The more we reflect over the question the more strongly we feel\nthat it is a direction rather than a conclusion that is offered to us in\nthis matter; something higher, something inward and so on is to evolve,\nbut what is embedded in the inward and in what this supremacy is based\nis at present not apparent. Further, every attempt at a more definite\norientation at once reveals to us a wide gulf, indeed a harsh\ncontradiction, between the content of that which is sought and the form\nof existence from which it is sought. The chief impulse of the spiritual\nlife is that it wills to liberate us from the merely human; to give us a\nshare in the life of the whole; to remove us from a happening between\nthings to their fundamental happening. Seen from within, the history of\nhumanity is primarily an increasing deliverance of life from bondage to\nthe narrowly human, an emergence of something more than human, and an\nattempt to shape our life from the point of view of this: it is an\nincreasing conflict of man with himself. At the same time, however, it\nis a taking up of the whole into himself; since man in all his planning\nand striving is related to the whole, it seems to him that his own\nnature must remain alien to himself if the whole does not disclose\nitself to him and allow him to participate in a life which has its\nsource in ultimate depths; if in the life of the whole he does not find\na purer and a more genuine self. The idea of truth impels us beyond all\nthe limitations to which a particular being is subject, beyond all\ncommunication of things from without. There must be nothing between us\nand reality; the inner life of reality must become ours, and thus our\nlife will emerge for the first time from a shadowy existence to full\nreality, from the narrowness of the mere individual to the\ncomprehensiveness of infinity. The idea of the good makes similar\ndemands. To the spiritual movement, the advancement of merely human\nwell-being is far too mean an aim. This movement makes us clearly\nconscious of the triviality of mere happiness; of the oppressive and\ndestructive effect of a continual reference to our own subjectivity; and\nof the unworthiness of treating love and justice as only means to our\nwelfare. It becomes at the same time an urgent duty to break through the\nnarrow limitations of the natural ego, and to conduct our life from the\npoint of view of objective truth and comprehensiveness, and so for the\nfirst time to become capable of genuine love and justice.\n\nIt is true that these aims are lofty, and, we feel we have the right to\nsay, aims that may not be rejected. But it is not at all evident how\nthey are to be reached from the position of man; it is not at all clear\nhow man shall press forward from mere existence to the creative basis,\nfrom the part to the whole: for his particularity and his mere existence\nhold him fixed. But in his existence nature preponderates by far:\nindividual tendencies of a new order do appear; but how could they in\ntheir state of isolation and weakness bring about a revolution and place\nlife on a new foundation? As a matter of fact, we usually find these\nimpulses to a new life drawn into the service of natural and social\nself-preservation, and, over against the passionate struggle for\nexistence, condemned to complete impotence and shadowiness.\n\nThe whole life of culture makes us clearly conscious of this perplexity.\nThe essence of that life consists in this, and by this alone can it be\nheld as true--that it wills to build up a new, spiritual reality within\nthe sphere of humanity. But to what extent is such a reality\nrecognisable on the basis of experience? In and with all civilisation\nman continues obstinately bent upon the attainment of his own ends: the\nstruggle for material goods exerts an immense influence upon and\ncontrols men; an indescribable amount of pretence and hypocrisy\naccompanies and surrounds the spiritual movement. Between that which man\nreally strives for, and that which he asserts that he is striving for,\nand which perhaps it is his intention to strive for, there is great\ndivergence. Falsehood like this is not limited to individuals; our whole\nculture is one monstrous deception in so far as it promises to develop\nhumanity to something new and higher, while in reality the new is\noccupied mostly with polishing up the old, the life of nature, to give\nit a glittering appearance. It is on this account that in times of\ncriticism and introspection so much opposition has been offered to\nculture; that such passionate scorn has been aroused against the\nhypocrisy and pretence which pervades its whole life. But although we\nare fully aware of its deplorable state, we do not break its power over\nus. It is perhaps the most bitter of all our experiences that we are\nheld fast under the spell of a condition of things concerning the vanity\nand futility of which no one with any insight has the slightest doubt.\n\nHowever, in moralising over this state of things we ought to guard\nourselves from becoming too passionate. For it is a question whether it\ncould be otherwise; whether the fault is in any way in our will, and is\nnot solely and entirely in the nature of our being itself. For it is\ncertainly a contradiction throughout that man, who is an individual\nbeing existing by the side of others, and whose life belongs to the\ndomain of experience, should set himself in a universal life\ntranscending all particularity and live from the bases of reality. How\ncan that which is primarily a part of a given world build up a new\nworld? Ideas like those of the true and the good are, from this point of\nview, simply delusions, manifest impossibilities; man may trouble and\nweary himself with them, but all his endeavour only leads him into a\nstate of greater confusion. These ideas are to him for ever an \"other\"\nworld; he may expand himself and develop, but he does not come a step\nnearer by doing so.\n\nIt is true that in striving for truth, man advances beyond sense\npresentation to the activity of thought; but the thoughts always remain\nhis--thoughts of mere man. However much he may widen his own sphere as a\nconsequence of his reflection upon them, he does not go beyond it. In\nhistory also the striving for a scientific comprehension of truth\nappears to be a vain struggle; the passing through different phases has\nnot brought it nearer its aim so much as, with ever-increasing\nclearness, it has manifested the impossibility of attaining what is\nsought.\n\nThe ancient conception of truth, with its belief in a relationship of\nthe being of man with the whole; with it assumption of an easy\ntransference of life from one to the other; with its view of truth as an\nagreement of thought with an external reality, has through the course of\nlife become untenable; it has been rejected through the influence of the\ntendency of our being to become more inward. For this tendency\nnecessarily led to a detachment from the environment of the world, and\nto a separation of the two sides of our experience. We became clearly\nconscious of this separation at the beginning of the Modern Age. We saw\nthat, if we were not to give up all claim to truth, only one course\nremained possible: to make a division within the human domain, a\ndivision between a merely human and something else which might be\nregarded as the presence of universal and genuine life in man. And so\nSpinoza distinguished an objective thought from the springs of the\nemotions; Kant distinguished practical reason from the theoretical which\nis bound up with the limitations of human nature; and Hegel elevated the\nthought-process, which manifests itself in the work of universal\nhistory, far above the opinions and the wishes of individuals. Each of\nthese championed a distinctive conception of truth and a characteristic\nform of the spiritual life; but with regard to all attempts we come to\ndoubt whether even that proclaimed as more than human is not still\nwithin the domain of man; whether in every case we do not wrongly\ndeclare the last point which we reach to be the deepest basis of\nreality.\n\nThe position is somewhat similar with regard to the idea of the good. In\nthe attempts to which we have referred, it passed current as a\ndeliverance from all selfish happiness, which was felt to be intolerably\nnarrow. A new, purer, and more comprehensive life is to proceed from\nthe winning of a new position. Now, there are many different conceptions\nof happiness, and higher levels are distinguished plainly from lower.\nBut the highest level does not transcend human desire; man must bring\nall into relation with his own well-being. He cannot in opposition to\nhis own well-being adopt something alien as an end in itself; his\nactivity can be aroused for nothing which has not some value for\nhimself. In this case also, therefore, the bounds of his life hold him\nfast, and, unless these bounds are transcended, the good cannot be\ndistinguished from the useful. Of this a clear confirmation is furnished\nby the experiences of religions. In their origin they wished to free man\nfrom himself and to set him in a new life--whether they promised\ntranquillity in a surrender to the infinite whole or won a positive\ncontent by the revelation of a kingdom of divine love. How soon the\nsuccession of events has led back to a quest of happiness! How soon has\nit become evident that the religions have far less revealed a new world\nto the majority of mankind than chained them more firmly to the old; and\nthat they easily arouse to greater power the raw instinct of life, which\nthey desired to overcome!\n\nWe seem to be shut in on all sides: it seems a monstrous inconsistency\nto wish to build up from man a world transcending man; to remove him\ninto a world other than that of a man. A world of this kind is, however,\nessential to the spiritual life; with its abandonment that life is only\na delusion; and the less intelligent people who reject as a meaningless\nfolly all striving for the true and the good seem to be right.\n\n * * * * *\n\nWhy do we refuse to adopt this view, and to discontinue an endeavour the\naims of which appear to be unattainable? In the first place, because the\nmovement cannot be given up so easily as those critics imagine who adopt\nthis view; for it does not consist simply of explanations and theories\nthat might be completely refuted by rigorous argument, but a certain\nreality has been evolved, desires aroused, forces called into life, and\nmovements inaugurated. Even if they halt in their course they were\nsomething; they do not disappear therefore before the attacks of\nScepticism; further, however mean their results may be, they prove to be\nstrong enough to indicate the limitations in the life of nature, and to\nmake it inadequate for us. The matter is the more mysterious in that the\nstriving is anything but a product of the natural desire for happiness.\nFor the movement disturbs all our complacency; it leads man to be\ndiscontented with that which hitherto had fully satisfied him; it\nsurrounds him with fixed organisations; desires from him much labour and\nsacrifice, and makes existence, not easier, but more difficult for him.\nDelusions are wont to deceive us by pleasing pictures; to attract us\nwith the promise of pleasure and enjoyment. How does a delusion, that\nimposes so much toil and trouble upon us, win so much power over us?\nThere is another matter to be considered in this connection. A complete\nrenunciation can appear possible only because it is not clearly\nperceived how much which we cannot give up and which ultimately we have\nno desire to give up is involved in it. Only a want of clearness of\nthought, and still more a weakness of character, could wish to retain in\nthe particular case what was given up as a whole; could affirm as effect\nwhat it denied as cause. As soon as this course is recognised to be\nimpossible, it becomes evident that with the rejection of the spiritual\nlife everything is abandoned which gives to our life dignity, greatness,\nand inner unity, and joins us to others with an inward bond. Realities\nsuch as love and honour, truth and right, must be regarded as empty\nforms; and even science must come to an end, because there is no longer\nany inner unity of work, no objective necessity.\n\nSuch considerations again show us that a complete negation is\nimpossible; and it seems that we must remain for ever in painful\nsuspense between an unattainable affirmation and an impossible negation.\nWe might be able to endure this condition of affairs if it concerned a\nproblem which arose in reference to something of little importance to\nour life, something that we could relegate to the background, and simply\npermit to lie there, without compromising our life. But our problem lies\nat the centre of life; is, in fact, itself the centre. To be left in\nsuspense here means to condemn life as a whole to a state of paralysis,\nto surrender it to complete dissolution. Against this everyone who has\nany vital energy in him will contend; with his whole might he will seek\nto escape from a condition so intolerable; he will not hold back from\nmaking a bold venture, mindful of the words of Goethe, \"Necessity is the\nbest counsellor.\"\n\nIn seeking a way out of the contradiction, it is essentially necessary\nnot to forget the source of the contradiction. We saw that source to be\nin the fact that the spiritual life would set up a new world, and at the\nsame time remains bound up with the merely human and presents itself as\nan endeavour of mere man. To the spiritual life a universal character is\nindispensable; of this claim nothing can be abated. There must therefore\nbe a change as regards man; it must be that more comes to pass in him\nthan the first impression makes evident. It must be that the spiritual\nwithin him, which seems at first to be his own product, is a\nparticipation in wider connections; the spiritual must be operative in\nman, but not originate out of the merely human. It is true that this\nmakes a reversal of the traditional position necessary, and not merely\nof its representations; and such a reversal provokes serious doubt.\nModern science, however, has taught us sufficiently often that the first\nappearance of anything need not be the ultimate one; that there may be\ncogent reasons for regarding something that at first seems based in\nitself as the proof of something existing beyond. Thus, modern natural\nscience has transformed the world of sense into a world present only to\nthe eyes of research. Certainly, science accomplishes these changes\nwithin the bounds of experience: on the contrary, in regard to our\nproblem, in which the fundamental form of reality is in question, it is\nindispensable that we should transcend these bounds; without a change in\nrespect of the whole, and hence without a resort to metaphysics, it is\nnot possible to accomplish our purpose. It is quite clear that the\ntendency of our time is opposed to appeals to metaphysics: yet it is a\nquestion how far this attitude is justified. So far as metaphysics\nassumes the same form as in the past--that of conceptual speculation of\na thought hovering unrestrained over the existing world--then it is\nrightly opposed. But the attitude is unjustifiable which assumes that\nwith the overthrow of the older metaphysics all metaphysics may be\nignored. For a metaphysic can proceed also from the whole life, and need\nnot be a product of mere thought. The implication therefore is this,\nthat the centre of life itself must be changed, and thus a revolution of\nthe previous condition accomplished; that an actuality already operative\nin life is to be given its rightful place and brought to its full\neffect. The business of metaphysics, therefore, is not to add something\nin thought to a reality which lies before us, or to weave such a reality\ninto a texture of conceptions; but to seek to grasp reality in itself,\nand to rouse it to life in its entire depth for ourselves. Every change\nof thought then rests on a change of life. Such a metaphysic may appeal\nto the saying of Hebbel, \"Only fools will banish metaphysic from the\ndrama; it makes a great difference, however, whether life evolves out of\nmetaphysic or metaphysic out of life.\"\n\nEven if our age rejects a metaphysic of this kind also, if it surrenders\nitself without resistance to the inconsistencies of the world of sense,\nthis would be the last thing which could deter us from an appeal to\nmetaphysic. For the inner cleavages and the superficiality of the life\nof our time--and we saw reason to believe that these are facts--stand in\nthe closest relation to the rejection of metaphysics: this rejection has\nmade the age inwardly insignificant. If an indirect proof of the\nnecessity of a revolutionary transformation of life, and at the same\ntime of a metaphysic may be offered, our age furnishes one quite\nsufficient in its own experiences; its opposition can be only a\nrecommendation of an appeal to metaphysic.\n\nThe one main thesis which it is essentially necessary to establish is\nanalysed in sufficient detail throughout the whole course of our\ninvestigation; it simply sums up that which has already been advanced\npoint by point. The intolerable contradiction arises, as we saw, from\nthis, that the spiritual life with its new world should be a product of\nmere man, and that that life should remain within man and at the same\ntime lead in its essence beyond him. This contradiction cannot be\novercome otherwise than by our recognising and acknowledging in the\nspiritual life a universal life, which transcends man, is shared by him,\nand raises him to itself. That this transition brings with it a change\nin the appearance of life and of the world as a whole, and that as a\nresult our striving is brought under entirely different conditions,\nneeds more detailed presentation.\n\n\n\n\n(b) THE DEVELOPMENT OF THE MAIN THESIS\n\n1. The Main Thesis and the Possibility of a New System of Life\n\n(a) _The Development of the Spiritual Life to Independence_\n\n\nOur investigation reached its highest point in the demand that the\nspiritual life should become independent of man. Man cannot produce a\nspiritual life of his own capacity: a spiritual world must impart itself\nto him and raise him to itself. It must be shown that this does not by\nany means signify only a change of name, a new labelling of an old\npossession, but implies far-reaching changes, and indeed involves a\ncomplete reversal of the first condition. At the same time the course of\nthe investigation must establish that this transition to the spiritual\nlife is not something subsequently inferred or offered simply for the\nexplanation of an otherwise unintelligible fact, but that it would\novercome a false appearance, and help a misunderstood truth to its\nright. The fact that is affirmed should become an immediate experience\nof one's own and should advance life rather than knowledge. Only the\nwhole investigation and not an introductory consideration can furnish a\nproof of our contention.\n\nThere are within our own soul distinctive movements tending in\ndirections different from those of nature. We recognised that there is a\nlife which proceeds from some kind of comprehensive whole; a life which\ntranscends the opposition of subject and object, and evolves a\nself-consciousness in contrast with the relation to externals. All these\nfeatures present a quite different appearance, form a more coherent\nwhole, and will occupy a more definite position in the representation\nof reality, if in them an independent life superior to mere man is\nrecognised and acknowledged. The principal reason for this is that it is\nonly by means of that deliverance from the simply human that the new\nlife is able to express its own nature clearly and to realise as part of\nits own nature what otherwise seemed to have its source in something\nexternal. The individual traits that we become aware of are the\nrevelation of a universal life, if they are no longer regarded as\nlimited by the idiosyncrasies of the human. With this acknowledgment\nthey can gain ascendancy over man and prove their power upon him.\n\nWe saw that it is characteristic of the spiritual life that it is lived\nfrom the whole; the elements are fashioned by a comprehensive unity; the\ndifferent complexes and tendencies which arise in this life strive\nultimately towards a single aim. We saw also that it was absolutely\nimpossible that the tendency to universality should be originated by\nman, whose chief movement is towards differentiation and division; and,\nfurther, that it should be realised by him in face of the opposition of\nnature, which extends to the immeasurable in matters great and small.\nThe unity that is necessary for this cannot arise out of the many as an\nultimate result; it must be original and be operative from the\nbeginning. We may postulate such a unity only if the spiritual life is\nitself a universal life transcending that of the isolated individuals;\nif it bears in itself a unity which takes the multiplicity up into\nitself. And so the whole from an abstract conception is for the first\ntime raised to a living reality; and only on thus becoming a reality can\nit exercise a distinctive power upon individuals and in contrast to\nindividuals; and inwardly unite and essentially raise them. Only in this\nway is it conceivable that another kind of activity having its source\nwithin the soul may exert itself in opposition to the mechanism of\nnature and transcend it; and that selfishness and spiritual weakness may\nin some way be overcome. Man, so far as he shares in the spiritual life,\nis more than a mere individual; a universal life becomes his own and\nworks within him as a power of his life.\n\nFurther, the taking up of the object into the life-process, the\ntranscendence of the antithesis of subject and object, is characteristic\nof the spiritual life. But this remained an inner contradiction, a\ncomplete impossibility so long as the spiritual life was regarded as an\noccurrence in a being who, with a closed nature, stands over against\nthings as though they were alien; and who can take up nothing into\nhimself without accommodating it to his own particular nature. The\ncontradiction is removed only when the spiritual becomes independent;\nfor then both sides of the antithesis come to belong to each other and\nare related to each other in a single life; and a life transcending the\ndivision may develop, a life that produces the antithesis from within,\nlives in the different sides and seeks in them its own perfection. The\nlife-process is now seen to be a movement that is neither from object to\nsubject, nor from subject to object; neither the subject's attainment of\ncontent from the object, nor the object's becoming controlled by the\nsubject, but an advance of a self-conscious life in and through the\nantithesis. Life, by this movement, ceases to be a single, thin thread;\nit wins breadth; it expands to an inner universality. At the same time a\ndepth is manifested in that a persistent and comprehensive activity\nemerges which lives in the antithesis. In this manner life first becomes\na life in a spiritual sense, a self-conscious and self-determining life,\na self-consciousness.\n\nThat this change is possible and brings with it a new type of life is\nshown with complete clearness by experience in the separate departments\nof the spiritual life. Thus, artistic creation at its highest is neither\nthe production of the truest possible copy of an external object, the\nartist painfully abstaining from all subjective addition; nor a\npresentation of subjective situations and moods, the artist endeavouring\nto the utmost to avoid everything objective; but a transcendence of the\nopposition of soulless objectivity and empty subjectivity by an art that\nis sovereign, autonomous, and with a character of its own; the creative\nactivity belonging to which gives life from the soul to the object, and\nmoulds the soul by means of the object. This kind of artistic creation\nis directed primarily towards an inner truth, not towards a truth that\nis produced by the object, but one that arises only in the contact of\nthe object with the soul. It is manifest that creation is effected here\nnot as an interaction between subject and object, but above and through\nthis antithesis; it is only by transcending the antithesis that the\nartist can give himself in his work, lend to it a soul, place an\ninfinity within it. In this respect conduct manifests a character\nsimilar to that of creation. Conduct would never attain an inner\nstability and enter upon an independent course, if it could not raise\nitself above the opposition of a submission to orders that are forced\nupon it from without, and a mere play of subjective inclination; if it\nwere not able to become the self-assertion and self-development of a\nlife transcending that opposition. At this point also the acknowledgment\nof an independent spiritual life teaches us to comprehend as a whole\nthat which, in a many-sided development, the different departments of\nlife show to be real.\n\nThe obscurity in which the conception of inwardness was hitherto\ninvolved begins to disappear when the spiritual life is no longer\nregarded as supplementary but as an independent life. It cannot be\ndenied that, within humanity, there is an endeavour to develop the life\nof the soul to a state of self-determining activity and, at the same\ntime, to free that life from the bondage to sense in which it remains at\nthe level of nature. Yet, definite affirmation that shall correspond to\nthe negation of sense has been lacking; it has not been clear how\ninwardness might find content and characteristic forms; there has been\nno advance from the subjective to the substantial. But since a universal\nactivity is operative within the multiplicity and through the division,\nand since it sets itself in the division and from this returns to\nitself, a self-conscious inwardness becomes conceivable which has a life\nof its own with new experiences. Since within this life \"to receive\"\npresupposes the comprehending power and the self-determining activity of\na vital whole, something other than sense is able to evolve and through\nall the persistence of sense to become the chief matter. The spiritual\nlife is not directed to a reality adjacent to it, but evolves a reality\nout of itself; or rather, it evolves as a reality, a kingdom, a world;\nand so it advances from vague outline to more complete development; it\nstruggles for itself, for its own perfection, not for anything external.\n\nIt is directly implied in the above conception that the spiritual life\nis something different from single psychical functions, such as\ncognition, volition, and the like; and that man, so far as he shares in\nit, is more than one such function or a sum of such functions. For these\nfunctions come under the antithesis of subject and object, while the\nspiritual life transcends it. It is also clear that the spiritual life\ndoes not change this or that in a life which already exists, or add this\nor that to it, but that it introduces a new kind of life--a life by\nwhich man is distinguished clearly from everything inferior to him.\n\nIf the spiritual life is an evolution of a reality in the life-process,\nthen the question arises as to how this reality is related to the world\nthat immediate experience shows us to be surrounded by. As surely as man\nin his subjective reflection is able to free himself from the world and\nto place himself in opposition to it, so there can be no doubt that the\nspiritual life belongs to the permanent reality of the world and, as we\nsee it, grows up out of its movement. The transition to an independent\ninwardness is not something which happens externally to the world but\nwithin it: no special sphere, separate from all the rest, is originated;\nbut reality itself evolves an inner life: it is the world itself that\nreveals a spiritual depth, or, as we might say, a soul. We are not\njustified in doubting and attacking this view simply because the\nspiritual life meets us only in man, and thus, in contrast with the\ninfinity of nature, is in its external manifestation so insignificant.\nFor something essentially new appears in it, something that involves\nanother order of things: the fact that little falls within our range of\nvision is in this connection not at all relevant. If anyone is disturbed\nand driven to denial by the external insignificance of the\nmanifestations of the spiritual life, he shows only that he\nmisunderstands what is distinctive and revolutionising in that life. The\nspiritual life is not to be thought of merely in reference to the\nexperiences of the individual, but also to the work of humanity, to\nhistory, to the advance of culture. All these show us a development of\nlife that presents the world from a new side; and this must be an\nimportant factor in the estimation of the world, especially if the\nspiritual is recognised as having a life independent of man.\n\nThe inward must necessarily present itself as the fundamental and the\ncomprehensive; as that which in its invisibility sustains, dominates,\nand unifies the visible world. Nature, which there was a tendency to\nregard as the whole, is now of the essence of a wider reality and a\nstage in its development; and it is impossible for the conception formed\nfrom it to be regulative of the whole. Ultimately, therefore, reality\ncannot be regarded as something dead, detached, and given: it signifies\nto us something living, something experienced in itself, something\nsustained by incessant activity. At the same time, the lateness of the\nappearance of the spiritual life within our realm and the many ways in\nwhich this appearance is conditioned force us to acknowledge that the\nlife of the world as a whole has a history. The conception of history\nthat we have become familiar with in its application to nature and to\nthe spiritual life throughout is now extended to the relation between\nthe two. However many mysteries it yet involves, definite progress in\nour conception of the world must be admitted.\n\nMost of all it is man with his life and endeavour that appears in a new\nlight. Two worlds meet together in him, and, indeed, not merely in such\na manner that he provides the place in which they meet and enter into\nconflict, but so that he acquires an independent participation in the\nnew world, and through his own decision co-operates in its development.\nFor spiritual life, with its self-determining activity, can never become\nitself as a mere effect; to become this it must be apprehended and\nroused to activity as cause. But it is cause and animating power only in\nits being as a whole; so, as a whole it must be present to man and\nbecome his own life. Thus, in contrast to the particularity of his\nnatural existence, a life having its source in the infinite grows up\nwithin him: in the former a mere part of a world; in the latter he\nbecomes a world in himself: in the one, bound up with the particular\nnature of man; in the other, he is elevated above all particularity to\nsomething more than human, to something cosmic.\n\nTo such changes in the content of life there must be corresponding\nchanges in its form. Empirical consciousness with its discreteness and\nsuccession of presentations and states cannot possibly comprehend the\nnew life; to do that the soul must acquire a greater depth. It must be\ncapable of an activity which, with single phases, extends into this\nconsciousness, but which as a whole and in its creative work must\ntranscend it. With the acknowledgment of an independent spiritual life\nin man two questions giving rise to different methods of treatment\nnecessarily become distinguished: the one as to the nature and extent of\nthe spiritual that is revealed in him; and the other, how, under the\nspecific conditions of his nature, it emerges and establishes itself. It\nwill become evident how important it is to distinguish these\nsufficiently, and yet on the other hand to associate them closely.\n\n\n(b) _The Demands of a New System of Life_\n\nIf the acknowledgment of an independent spirituality thus alters the\nview of reality as a whole, and in particular of man, we are faced with\nthe question whether we may not attain a new synthesis through this\nspirituality, and whether it does not begin a characteristic formation\nof our world. Our treatment of the philosophies of life of the present\nday makes it possible for us to approach this question with definite\ndemands. We saw life branch off in different movements, each of which\ntook up into itself a wealth of fact; but we found none of them strong\nenough to absorb the others into itself, or even able to estimate them.\nIf life is not finally to fall into dissolution, it needs, in contrast\nto these movements, one more universal in character, and this can be\nmore than a weak compromise only when there is a still more fundamental\nrelation of life than that which the developments that we have\nconsidered proffered. In that case the more original basal relation\nought to be able to manifest itself as a presupposition of those\ndevelopments; it should make intelligible how divisions can originate in\nthe condition of man; in particular it should illuminate the opposition\nbetween the idealistic and the naturalistic systems of life--an\nopposition which, like a deep gulf, divides the life of the present. In\nshort, it should depend upon whether the change that results with the\nacknowledgment of the independence of the spiritual life makes it\npossible for us permanently to transcend those oppositions and to work\ntowards their reconciliation. But we ought then to see that, with its\nuniversality, the system of life striven for does not fall into a state\nvague and lacking in character. Through its whole being, in affirmation\nand in negation, the system of life must definitely express itself; it\nmust synthesise and differentiate, elevate and exclude. But it will be\nable to do this only if it produces a new kind of life-process and a new\nweb of life: only thus can essentially new evaluations and tasks, new\nexperiences and genuine developments, originate; only thus can life as a\nwhole be definitely raised. Of course, this new cannot signify something\nthat has just been discovered and that has arisen suddenly. How could it\nbe a truth which gives to us security, and how could it dominate our\nlife, if it is not rooted in our being, and if it had not exerted an\ninfluence at all times? But it makes a great difference whether the new\nhas been concealed, obscure and against the tendency of our own\nactivity; or whether it is taken up fully in our own self-determining\nactivity and thereby essentially advanced. If, on the one hand, the new\nmust be something old, on the other hand the old must become something\nnew if it is to liberate, strengthen, and elevate our life where its\nneeds are so urgent.\n\n\n(c) _The Spiritual Basis of the System of Life_\n\nThere can be no doubt that the acknowledgment of the independence of the\nspiritual life involves the recognition of a new fundamental relation of\nour life. This relation is no other than that of man to the spiritual\nworld, which is immanent in him and at the same time transcends him. It\nis more original than the relations implied in the systems of the\npresent day; for these, even though contrary to their own knowledge and\nintention, all presuppose this fundamental relation to the spiritual\nlife. Religion could not be so violently attacked and so zealously\ndenied by so many, if the relation of life to God were the absolute\nrelation and were present before all others. The value of religion\ndepends essentially upon the content of the spiritual life which it\nserves. With the mere relation of life to a supernatural power, the\nnature of which is not more closely defined--with mere blind\ndevotion--nothing of value is attained. An honest religious attitude of\na formal kind can go together, on the one hand, with spiritual poverty\nand blindness, and, on the other, with hatred and passion. How sad the\ncondition of things in general has often been even when religion has\nshown a strong development of power! How often the help of divine power\nhas been invoked even in the commission of crime! If, however, the value\nof religion and its effect on the substance of life are measured\naccording to its spiritual content, then this content necessarily\nbecomes the chief object of attention and conduct. We can assure\nourselves of the relation to a supernatural power only from the\nexperiences of the spiritual life, and not previously to this life and\nindependently of it. The relation of life to the spiritual life must\ntherefore necessarily precede its relation to God; life must be certain\nof a universal spiritual character before it can assume a truly\nreligious one.\n\nWe find the case to be no different as regards the system of Immanent\nIdealism. It is open to considerable doubt whether the world as it lies\nbefore us can be looked upon as a pure unfolding of the spiritual life,\nas this Idealism asserts. In any case, for the spiritual life to\ncomprehend the world within itself it must itself be established as a\nuniversal power, and clearly distinguished from mere man. Otherwise the\nway of Immanent Idealism leads to an anthropomorphism of a more refined\nkind; and there is a danger that the whole world which this system\nchampions may be criticised hostilely and rejected as simply human.\nImmanent Idealism, therefore, also points to the problem of substantial\nspiritual life.\n\nThe naturalistic systems do the same thing in a different way, and this,\nindeed, in contradiction to their main contention. For, when they\nattempted to produce a system from themselves, they could achieve their\nobject only in that they were implicitly based upon the spiritual life,\nand introduced again indirectly that which they had previously rejected.\nThey are developments of the spiritual life in particular directions and\nunder particular circumstances: they think that they are able to\naccomplish out of their own resources something which they accomplish\nonly with the help of a fundamental spiritual life; and so the more\nconsistent they are in their denial of an independent spirituality the\nmore inevitably they lose all internal coherence.\n\nThus from whatever point we start we come to the question of an\nindependent spirituality; an answer to this question is involved in\nevery system of life. But as its implications are not distinctly\nrecognised, it does not receive its proper due. If we consider the\nquestion adequately, it will be found that a universal life must precede\nall differentiation and division; and that from this life each movement\nmust receive a new elucidation. A multiplicity within the whole is quite\nintelligible, because it is a development of the spiritual life, not\nabsolutely, that is in question, but in relation to the position of man\nand under the conditions to which he is subject. The desire to give\ngreater stability to our life in opposition to the never-ceasing flow of\nappearances that constitutes our immediate existence, also compels us\nstrongly to emphasise the importance of the relation to the spiritual\nlife, which is acknowledged as independent. Without an elevation above\nthis constant change all spiritual work must inevitably become\ndisintegrated, and no truth of any kind would be possible to us. In the\nModern Age especially there is a keen desire for a firm basis, as a\nsecure support of life as a whole. But it is useless to seek this basis\nin life as we immediately experience it, whether in thought, in\nactivity, or in anything else; for in the whole life of immediate\nexperience there is nothing that is free from change. To seek this basis\nin a particular point is also to no purpose, even if one could be raised\nto a position above change; for it could not operate beyond itself in\nsuch a way as to support the rest of life. If, therefore, we would not\nsubmit to a dissolution of life, we must seek a basis for it beyond its\nimmediate state and in a whole of life. Such a whole of life is offered\nonly by the spiritual life, which, transcending man, is also immanent in\nhim. Of course this cannot be taken possession of immediately at the\nbeginning of the journey of life; but it is held up to us as an aim, and\nwe can only gradually approach it. But how could it operate within us\nthus, if our life had not some kind of participation in it from the\nbeginning; if our life were not in some way based in the spiritual life,\nand in progressive activity only developed the spiritual that is in it?\nFor unless we are based in the spiritual life we should drift helplessly\nto and fro in uncertainty, and our endeavour would never be\nintelligible. From this point of view also, our relation to the\nspiritual life is seen to be the fundamental problem that must precede\nall others.\n\nIf there can be no doubt that the problem of life is comprehended most\nuniversally when we view it in relation to the spiritual life, there may\nbe all the more uncertainty whether all characteristic form and, with\nit, all deep-reaching effect are not lost by reason of this\nuniversality. If the conception of the spiritual life involved its usual\nvagueness, this would in reality be the case, for recourse to it would\nnot effect any fundamental transformation of the immediate condition of\nlife; and we should not rise above the mere combination of its various\nmovements. The case is quite otherwise if the spiritual life is\ndistinguished clearly from the human and is acknowledged to be an\nindependent world. So understood, it must show a particular content, a\nnew structure of life, and must give a distinct form to everything that\nit takes up into itself. It is necessary to consider, also, its relation\nto the world of sense, and we may expect to be faced in this matter with\ncomplications and problems that will agitate our life in its whole\nextent, and set it in a new light.\n\nIn the spiritual life we recognised a new world, a realm of inwardness,\nwhich has become independent. Within this realm life cannot be directed\nto something alien, but can be occupied only with itself, with its own\ndevelopment. Its experiences cannot be related to externals; they must\nlie in itself. Now, have we any knowledge of a movement that reaches\nback in this manner to the elements of life? We perceive a movement of\nthis kind clearly enough. In the first place, all development of the\nspiritual life shows, even within the individual, the attribute that a\nuniversal mode of thought, conviction, disposition, sets itself in the\nsingle function and continues present within it. The tendencies and\nmanifestations of the spiritual are not all at the same level of\ndevelopment, but since a universal activity, a comprehensive and\npersistent deed, is present in the particular manifestation, the process\nacquires a depth, and a single act is able to give expression to a\ntendency of the whole as well as to react upon it.\n\nBut this movement extends beyond the immediate state of the soul of the\nindividual to spiritual work, and gives it a particular form. Life as a\nwhole, as reality's consciousness of itself, may be regarded as\nthroughout capable of a multiplicity, as containing within itself\ndifferent sides and possibilities. Since its evolution produces this\nmultiplicity, life as a whole can express itself in the individual\naspects and tendencies; expand them till they become different\ndepartments; experience itself in particular ways in these departments,\nand in so doing achieve a development of its own; it is able also to\nbring these departments and their developments into their relation to\none another. Since thus, within the world as a whole, life concentrates\nin different ways, and the particular tendencies which thus arise meet\nand enter into conflict with one another, and since their conflict is in\nparticular a contest to determine the form of the whole, there is\nrevealed the prospect of a wealth of experiences which come not from\nwithout but out of the movement of life itself, and spring from its\noccupation with itself. The conflict between the different movements of\nlife must bring the whole into a state of tension and lead it to further\ndevelopment. In the progressive formation of itself, in the development\nof a reality conscious of itself, life through its movement finds itself\nand develops a content. This movement will summon all the psychical\npowers of man to activity; it cannot possibly proceed from them. If we\nare to take part in the building up of that inner world, a spiritual\ncreative activity from the basis of our being must be operative through\nthese psychical functions, uniting them, and applying them as means and\ninstruments.\n\nIf, for us men, life becomes conscious of its content only through\nmovement and conflict, nevertheless this content may not be regarded as\nultimately proceeding from them. If, as a whole, life did not transcend\nmovement and conflict, if the latter were not included within a\nself-conscious and self-determining life, then they could yield no\ninner result, and could not lead to the further development of the\nwhole. The attempts to derive this self-conscious and self-determining\nlife from ontological conceptions such as \"being,\" \"whole,\" \"movement,\"\nand so on, as the older metaphysics often undertook to do; or the\ntendency to treat it only as a supplement to them, are to be dismissed\nmost decisively. The fundamental qualities that the spiritual life\nevolves always presuppose a self-conscious life and become intelligible\nonly in relation to it. Without it, the conceptions of the true and the\ngood remain in complete obscurity, as will be shown later in more\ndetail.\n\nIf our human reflection often advances from the indefinite to the\ndefinite, from the abstract to the concrete, this does not involve that\nthe latter is originated from the former: the advance could not be\nachieved unless that which comes at the end was operative from the\nbeginning as its basis and presupposition.\n\nIf a self-conscious life unfolds itself with an increasing content\nthrough all departments and activities of life, then these departments\nwill have their meaning and their value primarily in that which they\naccomplish for the further development of that life, and in the\nparticular tendencies that they add to it: this yields a treatment and a\nstandard of value different from those which we are led to if we make\nthe psychical states of the individual our starting-point. The treatment\nof religion, for example, as a mere occurrence of an unrestrained\npsychical life may understand by religion a particular agitation of this\nor that psychical function; but with this we do not obtain a spiritual\ncontent. Again, it is not evident how a world of thought formed from\nsuch an individual psychical life could acquire an independence of man,\nand lift him above the position in which it finds him. The problem of\nreligion attains quite a different basis if the spiritual movements and\ncontents which emerge with it are emphasised; with this it develops and\ndiscloses the reality of the spiritual life more deeply. Then through it\nwe may discover and win something that alters the condition of life,\ntranscends the immediate life of the soul, and is able to exert an\nelevating influence upon man. The value and the truth of a particular\nreligion will be judged in the first place by the nature of the\nspiritual substance that it offers, and the degree in which, in its\nadvance, it is able to join itself to the movement of life as a whole\nand to guide it further. A great divergence is possible between this\nspiritual substance and the movement and passion that call forth a\nreligion on the basis of humanity: the real is, in human relations, by\nno means without further consideration to be regarded as rational.\n\nThe case of the other departments of life is the same as that of\nreligion: the character and the value of all achievement depend entirely\nupon the range and the kind of substantial spirituality that they\nevolve. The same is valid of whole epochs and cultures, of peoples and\nindividuals. The exertion of the greatest energy upon externals and the\nmost revolutionary transformation of human conditions cannot protect us\nfrom becoming inwardly destitute, or lead us beyond mere appearance to\ngenuine reality. On the contrary, the experience of history shows often\nenough that spiritual revivals have been accompanied in their origin and\ngrowth by manifestations externally insignificant; and that something\nwhich struggles against the broad stream of human life fundamentally\nchanges the standards and values of our existence.\n\nOur whole spiritual life, therefore, constitutes a problem; it is an\nindefatigable seeking and pressing forward. In self-consciousness the\nframework is given which has to be filled; in it we have acquired only\nthe basis upon which the superstructure has to be raised. We have to\nfind experiences in life itself, to reveal something new, to develop\nlife, to increase its range and its depth. The endeavour to advance in\nspirituality, to win itself through struggle, is the soul of the life of\nthe individual and of the work of universal history: where there is no\nendeavour of this kind, there is no true life and no genuine history;\nour activity in relation to the world as a whole assumes a different\nform, and the world is represented differently and presents to us\ndifferent problems according to that which is attained here in the basal\nstructure of life. Life's struggle for itself, for its own content, its\nown truth, is the greatest and most intense of all struggles.\n\nThe passion which animates all the endeavour after a revelation of life\nand to win life itself is no other than the desire for a genuine\nreality: for a being within the activity, for a full as opposed to an\nempty life. If the formation of reality from within once begins, and the\ndesire for a substantial inwardness gains the day over the merely\nsubjective, then the intolerable inadequacy of all that is usually\ncalled life is bound to be strongly felt. The growth of intelligence has\nled man beyond the life of nature and its blind actuality. In\nintelligence, the inner life already proves far too independent to be\nsatisfied with being a mere appearance accompanying nature. With this\nevolution the psychical powers win a greater freedom, and man is able to\nface his environment more boldly: indeed, in his thought he can grasp an\ninfinity; and in arousing and using all his powers he may hope from his\nown position, in the interaction of subject and environment, to give to\nlife a content, and thus to make it a genuine life. But here the\nlimitation of man and the contradictory character of life as it is\nimmediately experienced soon come to be felt. All the rousing of forces,\nall the passing backwards and forwards between subject and object that\nwe experience in the immediate condition of life, does not lead beyond\ninteraction, and yields no content: it does not raise life to a\nself-conscious and self-determining life; so that, in spite of all its\nactivity, our life in this condition remains inwardly alien. There is\nthus an enormous disparity between the means that are offered and the\naims that are reached; an inward unrest; an incessant conflict, without\nany prospect of victory, against the ever-recurring tendency to become\nspiritually destitute; a state of dissatisfaction in the midst of all\nresults of an external kind. Only the revelation of a self-conscious\nlife, a life which itself evolves as a reality, can be the source of\nprogress, and lead from appearances and shadows to a genuine life.\n\nIt is apparent that with such an aim a task is presented that dominates\nand comprehends the whole extent of our existence. We have to take up\neverything into that self-conscious and self-determining life and to\ntransform the condition of life as it lies immediately before us. A\ndemand of this kind is not limited to a change of this or that; it\nimplies a complete transformation and renewal. It not only involves the\nwhole multiplicity of life, but it must also itself tend to bring about\nan increase in the multiplicity; indeed, this task first gives the\nmultiplicity a firm foundation and an inner value. For the development\nand the formation of self-conscious life, it is essential, as we saw,\nthat life concentrate in particular tendencies and departments; that the\nwhole place itself in them, and return to itself from them; and that by\nthis they develop a life of their own and give rise to their own\nexperiences. To act thus, to advance the whole in its own development,\nthe individual concentrations of life must possess an inner spiritual\nunity which comprehends and dominates all multiplicity. This is seen in\nthe case of individuals, peoples, epochs, and whole civilisations: only\nby overcoming the state of confusion and division in which they at first\nfind themselves do they come to wrestle with the spiritual life as a\nwhole and win a spiritual character. These unities of life, however,\nwill enter into the most diverse relations with the whole and with one\nanother; and since in so doing they further self-conscious and\nself-determining life, they develop reality without limit. From all the\nfacts we have considered we see that, with the attainment of\nindependence by the spiritual life, there emerges a distinctive kind of\nbeing which everywhere exerts its activity, holds up a new aim, and\ndesires a transformation: life is for the first time placed on a firm\nfoundation, and taken possession of in the deepest source of its\nmovement.\n\n\n(d) _Human Existence_\n\nFor the construction of a new system of life, this independent nature of\nthe spiritual life is primary and most essential. Such construction is\ndependent in the second place upon the relation in which the development\nof the self-conscious and self-determining life of reality stands to the\nposition and to the activity of man; in particular whether it wins this\nposition and activity for itself with ease or meets with definite\nopposition. Now, there cannot be any doubt that the recognition of the\nfact of the development of the spiritual life to independence of man, as\nwe traced it, must make us feel that the state of things at the usual\nlevel of human life is most unsatisfactory. It is not that one or\nanother aspect is inadequate, but that as a whole it is definitely\nopposed to the requirements of an independent spiritual life. For the\nspirituality that is evolved here is treated for the most part as a mere\nmeans in the pursuit of human welfare. Civilisation, at the level at\nwhich we are most accustomed to it, lifts man above mere nature, but at\nthe same time it forces him into rivalry and conflict with his equals,\nand leads him to expect happiness from victory. This is the case not\nonly among individuals but also among nations. Since the desire and the\nconflict for more generate an indescribable amount of excitement and\npassion, life seems to be full, whereas in reality it is entirely\nlacking in content, and behind the tumult is felt to be empty. But man\nhas no intention of giving up all claim to a share in genuine\nspirituality: and so he gives a better outward appearance to his\nendeavour and his conduct, and practises deceit upon himself as well as\nupon others. Genuine spiritual life cannot possibly proceed from\ncircumstances so contradictory and so confused. Neither can such\ncircumstances produce the concentration of life that is necessary for\nthe strengthening and advancement of the spiritual life. It is not the\nabuse of some one thing that provokes attack: it is not a particular\nfailing, but the ordinary daily course which, unresistingly, man is\naccustomed to accept as his world, that shows in its successes no less\nthan in its failures the greatest divergence from genuine spirituality.\nIt is just at the point where man becomes proud of his own doings and\nmakes much ostentatious display that he can least of all conceal the\nspiritual poverty and the foolishness of his way of thinking.\n\nAttempts to attribute the responsibility of all limitation to man and\nhis will, to find the root of all evil in the moral failings of\nhumanity, have not been wanting. Universal religions have given these\nattempts an embodiment. It has seemed as though the harmony of reality\nis only disturbed by man, and as though his moral restoration were the\nonly thing necessary to lead to all good. To be sure, such a way of\nthinking manifests a disposition of great seriousness, and it may appeal\nto the fact that the perplexity of our existence is nowhere more real\nthan in reference to the ethical problem. Still, there is no possibility\nof doubt for the man of the Modern Age that this conception is too\nnarrow; that it not only contradicts indisputable impressions and\nexperiences, but also takes the question much too subjectively and too\nanthropomorphically, and thus falls into the danger of doing harm to the\ncause that it wishes to serve. It is not simply our disposition, it is\nour being as a whole and the circumstances that we are in, which\nobstinately oppose the emergence and the development of an independent\nspiritual world. It is the most elementary forms of life themselves that\nprevent the elevation of our existence to the level of a genuine\nspiritual life. We cannot blind ourselves to the fact that the greater\npart of our life is bound up with a form of existence in which it is not\nable to embrace the spiritual life. Any kind of appropriation of the\nspiritual--if it is at all possible--can be effected therefore only in\nopposition to that form of existence. In genuine spiritual life all\nmovement should proceed from the whole and should be sustained by the\nwhole, even when it is concentrated in the individual departments and\ntendencies. Human existence presents the spectacle of individuals ranged\nside by side; and if a movement to overcome the original inertia is to\nbegin at all, their impulses, their desire for happiness, and their\nconflicts are necessary. The spiritual life knows no limits; it works\nand creates from the infinite whole: the individual is narrowly limited,\nand with all his activity and work constitutes but a tiny point in the\ninfinite whole. The spiritual life presents its content as transcending\ntime; even if for us it is only gradually revealed, time is in this a\nmere means to the presentation of an eternal and immutable truth: man,\nhowever, drifts with time; is dependent upon the momentary situation,\nand experiences himself in an incessant change: how can he comprehend\nthe eternal? Spiritual creation is effected in the transcending of the\nantithesis of subject and object: human endeavour is conditioned by this\nantithesis. The former with its self-determining activity overcomes from\nwithin the attachment to sense: man even in the highest flight of his\nendeavour cannot withdraw himself from it. From the altitudes occupied\nby the spiritual life submission to the impulses and the goods of sense\nseems to be something mean and base: and yet without these man cannot\npossibly preserve his life; he has not conferred sensuous needs and\ndesires upon himself by an act of will, but finds himself endowed with\nthem from the beginning. Spiritual life with its formation from within\nbanishes from itself all mechanism; all compulsion of blind actuality:\nwithout a mechanism in thought and in conduct, without habits and\nmethods determined by custom, human life cannot attain to an enduring\nstability either in the case of the individual or in that of society.\nThus, through the ever-present necessity of self-preservation and\nself-renewal, human life is compulsorily related to something, bound to\nsomething, that not only is not adequate to fulfil the tasks of an\nindependent spiritual life, but is directly opposed to them. There is\nsomething in our life which we cannot dispense with, yet which, from the\nspiritual point of view, it is an imperative duty to shake off.\n\nWe see clearly enough that it is not merely our will that is in play,\nbut that two worlds conflict within us, and that the world to which we\nprimarily belong, according to the testimony of experience, holds us\nfixed with superior power, and draws back to itself all movement which\nstrives upward. If, in particular, the dimness and the weakness of the\nspiritual life in man; its severance from its source; its disintegration\ninto isolated powers; and, finally, the moral perversity which human\nexistence exhibits, and the debasement of spiritual power to a mere\nmeans for natural or social self-preservation, become clear to us, then\nit is evident that a compromise between such a pitiable and shallow\nconfusion and a genuine spiritual life is absolutely impossible. The\nacknowledgment of an independent spiritual world tends only to increase\nthe contradiction and make us more clearly conscious of it.\n\nA clear consciousness of the inadequacy of the human is especially\nimportant and necessary in contrast to the utter confusion which reigns\nwith regard to the spiritual life and vitiates the whole of the\nendeavour of the present. The increasing transference of life to the\nworld of sense has led the present age to abandon all inner bonds of\nmankind. The endeavour of Antiquity to lift our life above the\ninsignificantly human by giving it a share in the greatness and\nmagnificence of the whole, and the attempt of Christianity to give a new\nnature to life from the relation to God, appear to the present age to be\nUtopian. Since the faith of modern Idealism in the immanent universal\nreason has become more and more dim, man is thrown back more and more\nexclusively upon himself, upon man as he is, upon empirical society.\nThere has grown up a strong belief that this empirical existence is\nquite sufficient in itself, and is able to satisfy our spiritual needs\nfrom itself. The ennobling of man, the improvement of his condition\nwithin this existence, becomes the aim of aims. Now, this presupposes\nthat within the province of man, the good, even if it does not entirely\npreponderate, is still confident of a triumphant advance. It\npresupposes, further, that the establishment of a certain state of life\nwill bring complete happiness with it. At the same time, all that is\ndisagreeable in human experience--the power of selfishness and pride;\nthe weakness of love; the feebleness of all spiritual impulse; the\nincessant increase of the struggle for existence, with the consequent\ndegeneration of the inwardness of the whole--appears with dazzling\nclearness to the more refined perception of the modern man. After even a\nlittle consideration he cannot doubt that, if, in spite of all\nlimitations, an unclouded state of human well-being could be\nestablished; if all pain could be banished from our life, life would\nfall into the power of the other and worse enemy--emptiness and\nmonotony. As a refuge from such perplexities there is a tendency to flee\nto society and history. From the point of view of humanity as a whole\nand with the thought of a better future, all defects and losses of\nindividuals seem to vanish; the hope of an unceasing progressive\ndevelopment rises above the feeling of the unsatisfactoriness of the\ncondition of the moment. But what are these relations of empirical\nhumanity other than those of a mere collection of individuals who never\nbecome an inner community, and what is empirical history other than a\nmere succession which never produces an inner unity of movement? In the\nappeal to the former, as in that to the latter, it is only\nsurreptitiously that something essential can appear to be acquired. In\nreality, conceptions are here made use of which in other relations have\na meaning, but which here signify nothing more than empty abstractions,\nsimply subjective constructions of thought. However, notwithstanding all\nthe glossing over, the real state of things must ultimately assert\nitself: pessimism must then be the last word, and the belief in a\nrationality in human existence must finally be given up. The faith in\nthe greatness of the empirical man is, indeed, of all faiths the\nboldest. For, if the other faiths proclaim a new reality in contrast\nwith the world of sense, they have the possibility of one in an\ninvisible world. In the case that we are considering, however,\nexperience itself must offer more than mere experience; we must not only\nbe certain of a thing that we do not see, but that which we do not see\nmust coincide with that which exists immediately before us. Such a\nposition is no longer a faith, but a gross contradiction, a complete\nabsurdity.\n\n\n(e) _Results and Prospects_\n\nThe immediate experience of man may by no means be rejected as a whole\non this account; if it were, spiritual work itself would degenerate and\nlack content. However, we only need to take up into a whole the\nimpressions and experiences which each in his sphere acknowledges to be\nindisputable, and it will be clear that a movement toward spiritual\nindependence can never proceed from such a pitiable state of confusion\nas that which is thereby seen to exist. It is essential that the\nmovement toward spiritual independence have an independent starting\npoint, and proceed on its own course. Only then is it able to select and\nappropriate the spirituality that exists in those confused experiences,\nand at the same time purify and strengthen it. We may most decisively\nreject all presumption to sovereignty on the part of the human realm;\nnevertheless, for the construction of a spiritual world that realm\ncannot be dispensed with. For this construction is not peacefully and\nsecurely accomplished through the self-development of a spiritual power\nplaced in us, as was supposed by those who attempted to represent\nreality as a whole as a cosmic process of thought. If through the\njoyfulness of its faith and the definiteness of its undertaking this\nattempt captivated the minds of men for a time, at last it was\nfrustrated by the fact that we men do not find ourselves immediately in\nthe atmosphere of reason, but have first through toil to raise ourselves\ninto it; that we have to do not with absolute spiritual life, but with\nspiritual life under the conditions and limitations of human existence.\nThus, in the first place an independent spiritual life, a universal\nself-consciousness, must work in us and be changed in our activity; and\nthis can be accomplished only by a revolutionary transformation of life\nas we immediately experience it; only by the attainment of a new point\nof view. But if at this point of view certain fundamentals of a new\nworld become evident, they are as yet only fundamentals, and, without\nthe help of a world of immediate existence, without recourse to the\nmovements and experiences of human life, they cannot be completely\ndeveloped and embodied. The complete development of a self-conscious\nreality is by no means made possible by combining an original spiritual\nmovement with the world of sense brought to meet it. For the spiritual\nlife can be furthered by coming into contact with that world only so far\nas the spiritual life takes it up and transforms it; the situation is\nrather that the spiritual movement wrests a content from sense\nexperience and at the same time is raised in itself; it is a realisation\nof self through the other. The further the movement advances the more\none may win one's own in what is apparently alien; the more that which\nis really alien may be separated and opposed. Thus we have a\ncharacteristic picture of the spiritual life in man; only the more\ndetailed treatment can confirm it.\n\nThe matter of greatest importance to the whole, and the one upon which\nall hope of success rests, is that the movement towards an independent\nspirituality, to the building up of a new world, should, in spite of the\nopposition of immediate circumstances, become manifest also in the human\nsphere in characteristic operation, and that it should establish stable\nbases in this sphere and rise upon them to the highest by means of work.\nWe have now to investigate more closely, to demonstrate more exactly,\nand as far as possible to show that at all the chief points of life such\nmovements begin; that one such movement advances another; and that all\nare associated in a community of striving, and that from here the\nspiritual movement that we see in history is lit up, strengthened, and\nfor the first time rendered practicable.\n\n\n2. The Transformation and the Elevation of Human Life\n\n(a) _Aims and Ways_\n\nThe question before us is whether any kind of transcendence of the gulf\nbetween the spiritual world and man is effected; whether that world, in\nspite of its antithesis to the world of sense, manifests itself also\nwith a characteristic effect in our sphere, and thereby inaugurates a\nmovement which takes possession of our whole life and advances it. Only\non the result of such an inquiry can we judge whether man is able again\nto establish his position, which has been so shaken in the course of\nmodern culture; and to save the courage and faith of life from violent\nchanges and convulsions. At the same time we must ascertain whether the\nrepresentation of the spiritual life that we have sketched is true in\nreference to things as they are found in the human sphere.\n\nTo be sure, proof or verification through experience is, in the case of\nthis problem, in the highest degree peculiar. No definite reality\nspreads itself before us by which we must test the validity of our\nrepresentations of thought. Representation and object cannot be simply\nbrought into coincidence, but as life, which we wish to comprehend, is\nfound in movement, and as, further, in immediate experience genuine fact\nand the form assumed by it in the idea of man are confused, so the\nrevelation of the spiritual life does not come to us immediately, but\nhas first to be extricated and wrested from the most diverse errors and\nhalf-truths. Every attempt to obtain proof from experience rests on the\nconviction that a movement of the kind, the recognition of which is\nbeing fought for by us, is already in some way in process everywhere\nwhere human life goes beyond mere nature; and that only the clear\ncomprehension of the aim and the taking it up with complete\nself-conscious and self-determining activity are lacking. If now the aim\nwhich is presented is the right one, that is, that which is implied in\nthe spiritual movement of life itself, then its acknowledgment and\nappropriation must tend to the elucidation, the unification, and the\nstrengthening of all endeavour tending in the direction of this\nmovement; it must lead to a development and an elevation of life above\nthe condition in which it is immediately experienced. In the first\nplace, it must be shown that the connections, preparations, directions\nin life in its general condition, tend towards the new according to its\nchief demands; and, further, it must be shown that the existing\ncondition is raised essentially through becoming comprehended by the\nrevealed universal movement, and is led to its own perfection. Again, it\nhas to be shown that thus life wins a more precise content and a greater\npower in its every aspect: that which is present in all human endeavour\nas a necessary requirement must now become more intelligible, and at the\nsame time from something impossible of fulfilment to something possible,\nand reveal new aspects and new tasks. Further, those elements which at\nfirst sight exist unconnected side by side and tend to limit one another\nmust unite, and must strengthen one another. On the other hand,\ndivisions must arise: it is as necessary energetically to reject that\nwhich follows wrong aims as to come to a peaceful settlement with that\nwhich errs only in the means. The antitheses which the work of humanity\ncontains must also become intelligible, and at the same time a way must\nbe prepared by which these antitheses may be overcome, not one by which\nmerely a compromise between them may be arrived at. The breaking forth\nof the new must tend always toward the self-elevation of life; with\narousing and strengthening power, it must take up the whole of life into\nits movement: it must demonstrate a transcendence of all the reflection\nand subjectivity of man, and this can be accomplished only through the\ndisclosure of new forms and contents of life. Accordingly attention must\nin the first place be centred upon the pointing out of such new forms\nand contents.\n\nThe union of the spiritual life with man, its being firmly rooted in\nhim, is seen to be at the same time something old and something\nnew--something old in so far as it must have been existent and in some\nway effective from the beginning, something new in so far as its\ndistinct emergence and its transition to a state of self-determining\nactivity must alter the condition of things essentially; in fact, must\nturn life as a whole into a problem. Where the reality of man is\nreduced, as by Hegel, solely to an unfolding of thought and cognition,\nthe present may find its most important task in the complete\nclarification and appropriation of the past; life comes to complete\nsatisfaction in the drawing of historical achievement to itself. Where\nit is a question of the building up of a reality based on self-conscious\nand self-determining activity, when we ourselves share in such activity,\nwe must find ourselves in an essentially different relation to things;\nand with all the connection with the past, life will press forward,\nchanging and elevating in contrast with the whole past.\n\n * * * * *\n\nA contact, indeed a union, must therefore be established between the\nindependent spiritual world--which in some way must be operative in\nus--and the activity of our own which struggles upward; and, through the\ngain of such a contact, that world must be led to more complete\norganisation, and that which strives upward made secure, unified, and\nadvanced. In this it is essential that the movements and the demands\nwhich the fundamental idea of the spiritual life contains be present to\nour minds. The spiritual life appears, so we saw reason to believe, in\nthe first place, to be something essentially new in contrast to the life\nof nature. The spiritual life is not the product of a gradual\ndevelopment from the life of nature, but has an independent origin, and\nevolves new powers and standards: new beginnings must, therefore, be\nrecognisable in us if the spiritual life is to become our life. The new,\nhowever, manifested a development of the inner life to independence in\nopposition to its state of subjection at the level of nature, and so\nthus in man also the inner life must in some way come to itself and\nattain to freedom. We saw, further, that this development to\nindependence cannot be brought about through new achievements in a given\nworld, but that it needs the building up of a new world--a new basis for\nlife: it extends even to the final basal forms; not any kind of activity\ncould suffice, but a being within the activity, or, rather, a division\nof activity into something sustaining and comprehending on the one hand,\nand something demonstrating and producing on the other, is necessary. It\nis only thus that life becomes turned toward itself and elevated to a\nself-conscious life; activity to self-determining activity; experience\nto self-conscious experience. Man could not participate in such a\nself-conscious and self-determining life, if in him also a new life, a\nspiritual self, had not begun to be in some way. It is impossible for\nthis self to be merely individual in nature: it can change the form of\nthings and convey a new world only if it encompasses the multiplicity\nand experiences it as its own. An infinite self-conscious and\nself-determining life must not only include man within itself; it must\nbecome his own life, his true self.\n\nTo realise this life, this self, in more detail and to pass from mere\nimpulse to fruitful work, such as the building up of a new reality\nnecessitates, man must in some way transcend in his own sphere the mere\njuxtaposition of individual powers. Connections must be formed within\nthe realm of man that somehow deal with that task and advance towards\nits accomplishment in a way that is beyond the capacity of individuals.\nA transcendence of the antithesis of subject and object, that dominates\nthe greater part of life, is also essential to the new life; an\nenergetic revolution must raise life to a state of resting upon itself,\nto autonomy: and so in man also movements must appear in opposition to\nthis antithesis--condensations and concentrations, in which life from\nbeing a movement hither and thither becomes a forming of reality from\nwithin. In these connections only out of a self-development of life has\na reality arisen at all; and its content was not there complete at the\noutset, but was yielded only through the continuance of that\nself-development: it must be shown, therefore, that in man also life\nbegins to turn toward itself, and that this makes it possible to attempt\ntasks which to our capacity are otherwise inaccessible.\n\nIt is necessary to acknowledge that in all the spiritual movement which\nappears in the domain of man, there is a revelation of the spiritual\nworld: as merely human power cannot lead the whole to new heights, in\nall development of the spiritual life the communication of the new world\nmust precede the activity of man. At the same time, where we are\nconcerned with a life that is independent, and of which the activity is\nconscious and self-determined, the change cannot possibly simply _happen\nto_ man: it must be taken up by his own activity; it needs his own\ndecision and acceptance.\n\nWe shall consider the question of the possibility of this almost\nimmediately: so much, however, is certain--that this necessity of a\ndecision by man himself makes the matter far more complex and of far\ngreater risk. The establishment of an independent spiritual life in man\nfinds its chief enemy not in nature, but in the limitation and\nperversion of spiritual impulse through man's subordinating it to his\nown ends. The chief conflict is not between spirit and nature, but\nbetween real and false spirituality. Thus thought emerges in man, seeks\na representation of the world and would in this attain to truth; but\nwhen this striving first appears, man is wont to treat himself as the\ncentral point of the whole, to measure the whole of infinity according\nto what it achieves in relation to him, and to see reflections of\nhimself throughout its whole extent. And so we have the anthropomorphic\nway of thinking, the nature of which we have become aware of only\nthrough toil during the progress of the work of culture; a way of\nthinking from which it has needed even more toil to protect ourselves,\nand which, in forms often hardly noticeable, is ever ready to appear\nagain and to draw the spiritual movement into its paths. With the\nemergence of the spiritual life, man becomes more free in relation to\nhis environment; more free also in relation to the necessities of mere\nnature: his activity can exert itself more independently, concern itself\nwith lofty aims, strive towards the infinite. But all this capacity\nbecomes drawn into the service of the human; the wishes and the desires\nof the individual grow to an enormous extent. Since out of the struggle\nfor existence, with its natural limitation, an interminable struggle for\nmore existence arises, na\u00efve self-preservation becomes transformed into\nan unrestricted egoism. That the more-than-human which appears in the\ndomain of man should be employed to the advancement of the merely human\nis a danger that is present even at the highest stages of development:\nat one time man would prove his own power in the more-than-human; at\nanother, and this more especially, he treats it as a means to attain his\nmaterial welfare. Religion, for example, would reveal to man a new depth\nof reality, and so create a new life for him; and yet, how often even\nthis new reality is degraded to a means for the preservation of his\ninsignificant personality, and regarded as something which on his behalf\nguides the whole world aright!\n\nThe development of the spiritual life in the human sphere can thus be\nseen to be anything but a sure and steady progress; every step forward\nbrings new dangers; unutterable confusion arises through the use and the\nperversion of the new in the interests of man. But, if the development\nof the spiritual life within man is thus an unceasing conflict against\nhuman error, this conflict, despite its exhibition of the littleness of\nman, is at the same time a witness to his greatness. For it shows not\nonly that the spiritual movement needs the active co-operation of man,\nbut also that there is a conflict within humanity itself against the\nperversion of the spiritual; that there must be more within man and\noperative in him than the narrowly human. Indeed, in nothing does man\nseem greater than in this development of a more-than-human within the\ndomain of man, in this severe and untiring conflict with himself. How\ncould this conflict arise and become the soul of universal history if\nman did not possess a life and being transcending his particularity, and\nif he did not realise more in himself than we at the first glance see in\nhim? The error of Positivism is that, although it shows most clearly how\nthis spiritual movement dissolves the forms of life as it is immediately\nexperienced, it does not perceive and value the fact that, at the same\ntime, a new life, an inner life emerges; that, indeed, the negation\nitself is possible only through a more comprehensive spiritual\nrevelation. To consider the negative and the positive in their relation\nto each other, and to weigh them one against the other, is the\nindispensable condition for the adequate understanding of human life.\n\n\n(b) _The Nature of Freedom_\n\nThe arousing of a new world to life within man is a problem and a task:\nit cannot be effected unless the spontaneity and self-determining\nactivity that are distinctive of this world also manifest themselves\nwithin him. Further, it cannot be effected unless within man, who with\nthe greater part of his being belongs primarily to nature, a deliverance\nfrom nature is accomplished and the centre of life is removed to its\nspiritual side; and this cannot happen without the co-operation of man.\nWe need freedom, therefore, in two senses: as the presence of an\nindependent inner life, and as man's capacity to change--and we cannot\nfail to recognise that these are closely related.\n\nNow, the impressions and experiences of modern life are opposed to\nfreedom in both of these senses; indeed, with apparently insuperable\nforce they oppose freedom in every sense. Modern science most clearly\nshows that man belongs to a great world-whole and world-movement; his\nlife and work seem to be completely determined through his relations in\nthis whole; his whole life is subject to an irresistible destiny, and in\nall his undertakings and conduct he can only follow the course directed\nby it. This destiny assumes for us the most diverse forms; and through\nthis diversity surrounds us on all sides. Through the power of heredity\nwe enter life with a definite nature: in the family, the state, and the\nsociety a particular kind of environment surrounds us and gives to our\nnature its more detailed colouring: the age meets us with particular\ntendencies, takes us up into itself with a supreme power, and just as\ndecidedly directs us towards certain ends as it diverts us from others.\n\nEven in earlier times all this was not ignored, so far as the individual\naspects are concerned; but the Modern Age was the first to conceive the\nproblem as a whole, and with this it has pursued the idea of\ndetermination even into the inner structure of the life of the soul,\nwith the demonstration that here also nothing is spontaneous, nothing\nunmeditated, but that even down to the most primary impulse everything\ndepends upon something else, and proceeds from definite relations. From\nthis point of view the idea of freedom, and in particular that of a\nfreedom of choice, appears to be only a remnant of an unscientific way\nof thinking. The fact that man feels--as an immediate impression--free\nin cases of hesitation between different possibilities has lost its\npower to convince the individual of the Modern Age. For the new mode of\nthought has evolved point for point along with an increasing divergence\nfrom the na\u00efve manner of representation, and it has won its greatest\nvictories in opposition to this manner of representation. The revolution\nthat Copernicus accomplished in the representation of the world has\nbecome typical of the whole of modern work; and as regards our problem\nalso, dissent from ordinary opinion is less a cause for doubt than a\nrecommendation.\n\nHowever, our attitude in regard to this problem has, indeed, been\nessentially changed by modern thought. There can be no further talk of a\nvague freedom of the will, of a capacity to act in one manner or\nanother unaffected by anything that preceded and by the whole\nenvironment; the fact of the subjection of man to a destiny, both\nexternal and internal, is forced upon us with overwhelming power.\nWhether the idea of freedom in every sense is shown to be invalid is\nanother question; perhaps the problem is not so much solved as put on\none side. In any case, if a fundamental problem--one that has been\ndiscussed from the earliest times--is suddenly declared to be finally\nsolved, the suspicion must soon arise that the solution appears to be\nself-evident only because certain presuppositions which are in no way\nself-evident are implicitly assumed in it.\n\nThe surrender of every kind of freedom meets in the first place with the\nsuspicion that thereby far more is lost than we think or intend; that\nmuch is lost to which it is impossible to surrender all claim. Great\ntrouble is taken to prove that the denial of freedom by no means does\naway with the possibility of an ethical moulding of life. Yet it might\nbe shown without difficulty that, in attempts of this kind, either the\nfreedom, rejected in its ordinary sense, finds entrance again altered\nand deepened--as, for example, in the philosophy of Spinoza--or the\nethic that remains after freedom has been denied retains only the name,\nand in itself signifies something merely mechanical. But why do we\ninsist upon the ethical; why does so much depend upon its continuance?\nFor this reason: that upon it depends whether life merely _happens to_\nus or also _from_ us; whether we are simply parts of a rigid\nworld-mechanism or self-determining co-operators in the building up of\nreality. If the former hypothesis is true, we are no more than the\nplatform upon which events become connected; and we can possess no other\nunity than a summation of the multiplicity. A unity of this kind could\nnot possibly attain to independence and transcendence; could not make an\ninner judgment upon events; could not take up a conflict in opposition\nto the condition of life as it is immediately experienced. The\nconception of conduct would inevitably be degraded to that of mere\noccurrence. We should cease to have inner unity and be comprehensive\nselves; we should not be able to speak of disposition and conviction:\nfor it is of the essence of all these things that they cannot be\nimparted, but must arise newly and spontaneously just in the individual,\nand for this a concentration of life, an elevation to self-conscious and\nself-determining activity, is necessary.\n\nWhere inner unity and such an activity are lacking, a true present does\nnot exist. For if, through the all-dominant relation of cause and\neffect, that which comes later proceeds in certain sequence from that\nwhich came earlier, our whole existence is only a stream of occurrences,\nand that which is called present is nothing more than the point of\ntransition from the past to the future. Now, a real present can be\nreached from such an apparent present only if an independent task\noriginates at this point, and a decision has to be made: the more our\nwhole life and being here become a problem again, the more securely\nmight we trust to the possibility of advancing beyond all previous\nachievement, and of a spontaneous breaking forth of new powers, the more\nwill our life be transformed into a genuine present. A genuine present\ndoes not exist within the sequence, but above it; it cannot come to us\nopportunely, but must be attained through our own activity: it is our\nown work. It is, therefore, not a common and equal possession, but is\ndifferently constituted according to the individual. The present is the\nmore real and comprehensive for us the more spiritual power we evolve\nand the more spiritual content we give to life. Thus the present is not\na mere point in the succession of times, a mere ripple in the stream of\nappearances, but involves a counteraction to this flow; its formation is\nto be accomplished only by the placing of life in the region of the\nspontaneous, the independent, the time-transcendent.\n\nAll the losses in individual matters are, however, only appearances and\nparts of a universal loss that the surrender of freedom involves. This\nloss is no other than that of an independent nature-transcending\nspiritual life in general. Spontaneity is no subsidiary quality, the\ndisappearance of which might only involve a modification; with it, the\nspiritual life as a whole stands or falls. The experience of history\nalso shows clearly enough that that which has in any way reached a\nspiritual height never persists by simply existing, but that, if it is\nnot to degenerate rapidly, it must proceed ever anew from spontaneous\ncreative activity. The law of nature, that everything remains in its\nexistent state of rest or motion until it is acted upon from without, is\nnot true of the spiritual: of it nothing abides that is not continually\nbrought forth anew.\n\nThe surrender of freedom, therefore, means no less than the inner\ndestruction of the spiritual life. And before we submit to this we shall\nfeel compelled to make a more careful inquiry, to see whether the\narguments against freedom are really so cogent as they are represented.\nThey do exert a compelling force, but only so long as their\npresuppositions are admitted and held to be unassailable. That they are\nnot unassailable will become evident as soon as we clearly recognise\ntheir nature and implications.\n\nIf the world forms a closed and \"given\" system, in which every\nparticular is determined completely by its position in the whole, there\nis no place for spontaneity. The question of freedom has no meaning for\nman if he belongs solely and entirely to such a world, and within it has\nonly to weigh aims one against another. But in accordance with the\nresults of our investigation we contest these two presuppositions most\ndecidedly. To an investigation that begins with the life-process as the\nbasis of its treatment, it is certain that a \"given\" world never can be\nprimary, but only secondary. That it may attain to an inner present it\nneeds a life that is not itself \"given,\" but with its activity\nencompasses a multiplicity, unifies, and makes it definite; for anything\nto be experienced as \"given\" a self-conscious and self-determining\nactivity is necessary. If this self-determining activity can struggle\nupwards to complete power and consciousness only slowly, still it is\nthe first and the sustaining world; and at the same time it can never be\nasserted that the forms of its life are only ideas and appearances. Life\nis not formed from existing individual points, and does not pass between\nsuch points, but all multiplicity is sustained by an active whole, and\nfrom this whole animated ever anew. This active whole may not be\nconceived as dependent upon another, and it is quite capable of advance.\nWe have endeavoured to show that the matter is not one of subtleties of\nthought, but of different natures of the world and of activity; and that\nwith the attainment of independence a new world emerges. We have also\nshown that in us the new world must first wrestle with another, to which\nwe primarily belong; that inner changes must take place in us; and that,\nif all our toil is not to be in vain, the relation of the two worlds\nmust be changed.\n\nMan, therefore, has a special significance in that the two worlds meet\ntogether within him, and in that there can be no change in their\nrelation to each other at this point without his co-operation. The\nproblem of his life concerns more than his conduct, it extends to his\nbeing; the question is, how far the different worlds may become his own\nworld, his life. The matter is one of shifting the centre of life from\nthe position in which it is in immediate experience. Thus, the tension\nand the conflict involve the ultimate elements: each of the worlds has\nits own tasks and evaluations; things do not affect man with a given and\nfixed value, but they receive their value first from their relation to\nthe main course upon which his life enters; and so all conflict\nconcerning particular matters implies a decision concerning the whole.\nOf course, such a decision is not being made from moment to moment; and\nmore especially, it is not made simply by reflection, but it is involved\nin the whole of life. Only that which in him, in endeavour and work,\nparticipates in such decision is true life; individual acts of external\nconduct only bring to expression that which has happened and still\ncontinues to happen inwardly and in the whole.\n\nIn all this the possibility of an inner elevation is presupposed.\nEveryone who strives for an inner development of man; everyone who, with\nclear insight into the meanness of the general condition of human\naffairs, unswervingly continues to strive for the advancement of\nhumanity, relies on this possibility: without it there is no hope of a\ndevelopment and a growth of one's own life, of an elevation of it above\nthe condition in which it is first experienced. And so without this\npossibility endeavour loses all its true tension, and all that we are\nable to accomplish in ourselves and in others is no more than a\ndexterous use of existent forces. But is this condition of the matter,\nspiritually discerned, more than a mere discipline?\n\nIt is true that the possibility of an elevation has its fixed\nconditions; it necessitates particular convictions with regard to the\nworld and to man. We must view the world as being still in a state of\nflux and regard man as not being simply a closed and limited individual.\nThe infinite spiritual life must be present as a whole to him, and\narouse a new world to life in him; his conduct must be rooted in the\npower and content of the infinite life: only thus can we understand that\nin man also a movement begins and a change is brought about. And so it\nremains ever an inderivable, original phenomenon, which we must\nacknowledge as a fact, that a spontaneous life breaks forth in man, a\nnew and relatively independent life-centre originates. We always come\nback in the long run to original phenomena; the origin of living being\nin general is also an original phenomenon. May we deny the fact of such\noriginal phenomena, because they make our representation of the world\nless uniform and simple? To do so would be nothing else than to make our\npreviously formed conceptions the measure of reality; it would be a new,\nspecifically modern anthropomorphism.\n\nThis freedom, with its requirement of a world of inner life that\nintroduces new contents, and also that we belong in some way to this\nworld, is by no means a capacity to make a decision capriciously at any\nmoment; it is not a denial of the power of necessity. Of course, it\nimplies that there may be some kind of counteraction to this necessity;\nand that if this counteraction can attain success only as a result of\nthe activity of life as a whole, even the individual moment need not be\na matter of indifference. For, as the spiritual life has always to win\nits own height anew, so the present in its relations is not a mere\nconsequence of the past: times of temptation can come repeatedly when\nall that which has been achieved becomes doubtful again; but times of\nelevation also come when an advance is made beyond that previously\nachieved. It is not possible for us simply to reject the present\nexistence and all the conditions which constrain us, and to choose for\nourselves a new kind of existence, instead of the one we have; from that\nit is impossible to free ourselves: in all further endeavour we have to\ntake it into account, to make our peace with it. Nevertheless, life can\nattain to a transcendent point of view, from which the world of sense\nbecomes the object of judgment and of adaptation; from which, to be\nregarded as completely ours, it needs acknowledgment and appropriation\nby us; and from which it is seen not to constitute our whole life, as\nthat which is ultimate. Indeed, the tendencies within us which are\nconcerned with nature, first reach their highest through such\nacknowledgment and appropriation by us: placed on a spiritual basis they\nlose their rigid exclusiveness and become unified; our particular nature\nno longer constitutes our whole being, but becomes the central point of\na more comprehensive life, which extends further and further to\ninfinity.\n\nOur life, therefore, is a conflict between fate and freedom, between\nbeing \"given\" and spontaneity; and this conflict may be followed through\nall life's divisions. The conflict appears primarily in the individual\nin the development towards personality and spiritual individuality. For,\nas personality, unless life has a spontaneous source, is an empty word,\nso also spiritual individuality does not come to anyone, but has first\nto be won by the work of life essentially elevating that which destiny\nbrings: so far, it is our own work; but it is not entirely our own work,\nbecause that which comes to us from nature, and the condition of life\ngives us fixed points of support and points out a certain course.\nSimilarly, peoples have in their nature, environment, and history\ndefinite conditions of their being, from which they cannot withdraw. But\nspiritual creation and inward greatness do not grow simply out of these\nconditions, however favourable they may be, but out of a spontaneous\nactivity which takes up that which has been presented to it, gives it a\ncentral point, and from this develops it. The deciding question is\nalways whether and how far individuals and peoples attain to and\npreserve such a self-determining activity. This activity alone makes it\npossible for life to be unified inwardly; for its elements to be\ndistinguished and separated, and for some to be brought into prominence\nand others relegated to the background; for life to be made secure and\nelevated, and as the result of all for a spiritual individuality to be\nformed. The same thing holds good of the condition of a particular time,\nand man's relation to it. At first man appears to be a child of his age,\na slave of his age. But by the spiritual life he is able to win an\nindependence of the age, and to make himself its lord. Again, he cannot\nfree himself from the problems of the age; he cannot alter them just as\nhe likes, cannot divert into an opposite direction the power which they\nexert upon him. But there is always an \"either--or,\" either submission\nto the succession of experience, or the beginning of an opposition from\nspiritual self-determining activity: in this, also, the possibility of\ncalling new powers to life presents itself. From this spiritual point of\nview activity centred upon the concerns of the particular age is no\nlonger regarded as the whole life; the particular age with its work is\ncomprehended in an infinite life. As through all its different stages\nand constituents, so ultimately humanity as a whole also carries on a\nstruggle for a spiritual being, an advance to a new level. Humanity may\nnot be regarded as something finished; it must evolve to a nature other\nthan its present one, bring about a transformation of its life, and win\na spiritual individuality: the life of humanity is in a state of motion\nand it must become self-determined.\n\nThe idea of freedom thus reveals far-reaching prospects and the greatest\ntasks; it manifests its truth and power in taking possession of common\nexperiences and illuminating them, and in the arousing and\nre-organisation of our life. With the acknowledgment and the adequate\nappreciation of freedom, with the revelation of its universal relations,\nman is elevated in the most essential manner, for it manifests the new\nworld as active in the midst of his life and capable of appropriation by\nhim: it calls him to independent co-operation in the conflict of the\nworlds; it gives to the simply human and the apparently commonplace an\nincomparable greatness. However powerful destiny may be, it does not\ndetermine man entirely; for, even in beginning opposition to it there is\na liberation from it. However mean man's activity, it carries in it a\ndecision between worlds; however vanishing the moment, it is not\nentirely lost. True, the idea of freedom involves definite\npresuppositions: it involves, indeed, a profession of faith concerning\nlife and reality as a whole, a profession of faith that contradicts\nevery form of Naturalism and Intellectualism, and, in opposition to\ntheir representations of the world, champions another. But this\nprofession of faith does not concern this problem only; it is involved\nin our work as a whole, and so the whole may support and confirm it.\n\n\n(c) _The Beginnings of the Independent Spiritual Life_\n\nAs the problem of freedom gains in clearness and depth in the relations\nwhich have been discussed, so also the beginnings of independent\nspiritual life which are manifested in the domain of man become much\nclearer in them. Without such beginnings, which represent a new order\nin contrast to nature, and which oppose the degeneration of life to the\nnarrowly human, a movement towards independent spirituality could never\nemerge in us. They are really intelligible and acquire power only when\nthey are unified and acknowledged as the activity of a new life and\nbeing.\n\nThese beginnings appear in an elevation of life accessible to every\nindividual, an elevation above the forms as well as the content of mere\nnature. We perceive this in the norms with which the research of the\npresent is busily occupied. Our life does not consist entirely of simple\nmatters of fact, but in certain directions qualities and forms are\npresented to it which are able to contradict the immediate state of\nthings and to exercise a certain power over it. Thus the norms of\nthought, the norms of conduct and of artistic creation are evolved, each\nmaking particular demands, and being different in the manner of its\noperation. However, we are concerned here not with the aspects of\ndifference, but with that which is common to all; and this consists in\nthe working of an actuality in us that is something other than natural\noccurrence, an actuality that needs our acknowledgment, and through this\nacknowledgment first wins power over us. The demands which these norms\nmake upon us are in no way convenient to us; they limit our caprice;\nthey often cost hard toil and heavy sacrifice; our desire for natural\nhappiness does not commend them to us. How is it then that we do not\nsimply reject them? what is it that gives to them a constraining power\nover us? If they remained isolated and impenetrable experiences, if they\nadhered to us as something alien in nature, were foreign elements in our\nbeing, their power would be unintelligible. It is to be explained only\nupon the hypothesis that they are unfoldings of our own life, which by\nthese unfoldings is proved to be something other than a life of nature.\nUnless they are rooted in our own life, these norms are like misty forms\nin the air. They obtain complete reality and motive power first as\nmovements of our self, which then is no mere point by the side of other\npoints, but an independent manifestation of life of the spiritual\nworld.\n\nThis is in particular clearly the case in the idea of duty, the\nelucidation of the inner meaning of which is Kant's greatest and most\nenduring service. A duty is always a command; it presents itself as\nindependent of all caprice. At the same time, however, it can never be\nforced upon us by an external power; it needs our own assent and\nacknowledgment. Our own volition and being must operate in it, and, in\nthis, being must present itself otherwise than it appears to be at the\nfirst glance. We must bear and maintain within us a new world; in\nsubmission to its orders we must assert and develop ourselves. In this\nmanner alone can we explain the joyfulness which accompanies all genuine\nperformance of duty, and without which duty is no more than a task\nforced upon us. How much power duty, and the norms in general, may\nacquire in the greater part of human life is a question in itself; but\nthey could not exist for us even as ideas and possibilities if they were\nnot in some way based in our own being. However, as they show this being\nin a new light, it follows that they must themselves gain in clearness\nand in power and become more closely unified if they are understood and\ntreated as developments and modes of self-preservation of our own life.\n\nIt is with regard to content as well as to form that beginnings of a new\nlife appear. At the level of nature only that which serves the\nself-preservation and the advancement of the life of the individual\nbeing is estimated as a good; all that is involved in this may be\ncomprehended under the conception of utility. But notwithstanding its\ngreat power over man the consideration of utility does not form the only\nmotive of his life. For a detailed treatment of this matter we may refer\nto what was said in the discussion of \"The Growth of Man beyond Nature.\"\nAt present we are concerned especially with the view that the new that\nappears in us should be acknowledged to be the manifestation of a new\nworld and the expression of our real being. In the growing of man beyond\nnature negation usually preponderates; he must limit the impulses of\nhis natural _ego_, acknowledge and respect the rights of others, be\nready to subordinate and sacrifice himself. It is for the most part not\nevident what can commend such a negation to him and give it power over\nhim; and an impulse aroused to clear consciousness and strong desire\nmay, therefore, feel this entire connection with a new world to be an\nunwarrantable limitation, and reject it as a violent intimidation and a\ndegradation of life. The matter is seen in its right light only when\nnegation is regarded as the reverse side of affirmation, and even then\nonly if the winning of a new life and being is acknowledged in this\naffirmation. The positive impulse of self-preservation is indispensable\nto complete vital-energy, but mere self-assertion on the part of an\nindividual in opposition to others does not constitute a genuine self; a\ngenuine self is constituted only by the coming to life of the infinite\nspiritual world in an independent concentration in the individual. Only\nthus does life, which otherwise were empty, acquire a content. Then the\nindividual is no longer compelled to develop his powers in conflict with\nother individuals, but in directing his life towards this infinite\nspiritual world, in its complete appropriation and organisation. Hence,\nonly that which raises the spiritual content of life can be regarded as\ngood, and goods will be compared in value in accordance with this\nstandard. The more they lead beyond mere results to the development of a\nnew being and self, the more essential they are to spiritual\nself-preservation; everything else becomes a means or a preliminary\ncondition. Negation, also, has greater significance and importance from\nthis point of view. The new affirmation can acquire no complete truth\nand no real power in man without a fundamental deliverance of life from\nmere nature and its particularity. Without earnestness of renunciation\nthe new life sinks back to the old or both are combined in an\nundifferentiated unity, with the consequence that the new life loses its\npower to stimulate to new endeavour. As human beings are, this negation\nmust always be a sharp one.\n\nIn this connection, it may be said that life needs the stage of law\nwhich restricts natural impulse, and constrains to the acknowledgment of\nsuperior organisations of life; but from the stage of law there must be\nprogress to the stage of love, which for the first time reveals an inner\nrelation to reality and reacts upon the stage of law, giving it a soul.\nOn the other hand, a love that would be genuine comes not to destroy the\nlaw, but to fulfil, to take it up into itself. As love and law are\nindisputable powers in the life of humanity, so they also proclaim the\nemergence of a new world and the development of a new being within the\ndomain of humanity.\n\n\n(d) _The Transcending of Division_\n\nA particularly severe conflict with regard to the problem of the unity\nof life arises between the natural condition of man and the requirements\nof an independent spiritual life. The spiritual life demands an enduring\nwhole which includes all multiplicity within itself and of which the\nmovement originates within: human existence is primarily a juxtaposition\nof individuals and a succession of moments; no union seems to be more\nthan that which is constituted by a mere collection of the individuals.\nIf the division were not in some way transcended no spiritual life could\ngrow up within humanity, and man have no share in the building up of a\nspiritual world. The nineteenth century gave a confident answer to the\nproblem: it contended that history and society of their own capacity\nbind the elements of life into stable forms which take up all\nmultiplicity into themselves and raise our existence to spirituality. We\nmost emphatically deny the validity of this contention, and hope to show\nthat history and society themselves involve difficult problems; further,\nthat only when we conceive them in a particular way are they able to\nhelp in the unification of life and then only in a limited manner; and\nlastly, that they do not so much produce a spiritual life as presuppose\nit, as essential to their own existence. Naturalism and Intellectualism\nhave also confused the outlook; if we free it from this confusion,\nhistory and society will take a secondary place in our estimation; they\nwill themselves be seen to be deeper and more comprehensive and to\ninvolve movements which extend further than appears in immediate\nexperience; and they will become witnesses to the living presence of the\nspiritual life within humanity.\n\n\n(i.) _The Spiritual Conception of History_\n\nThe nineteenth century transmitted to us a conception of history that is\nfar more peculiar in nature and far more open to attack than is usually\nrecognised: history is represented as a great stream which takes up all\nindividual achievements into itself, unites them, and, regardless of all\nhuman error and caprice, leads surely to its end. No genuine achievement\nis lost, and all gain seems to be permanent; beyond all the trouble and\nuncertainty of the moment appeal is made to the power which, directing\nand elevating, permeates the movement, clarifies and refines it. In this\nconception the necessity of a process that has the power of determining\nits own activity and making its own decision is primary. The fact that\nthe matter is not so simple as this conception of history represents is\nshown by the experience of the age itself, which directly contradicts\nit. For according to this conception the whole past should discharge\nitself into the present and so impart its whole result immediately to\nus, and the direction that our activity ought to take should be pointed\nout to us with complete certainty by history. But we are distinctly\naware of the extent to which this direction is a matter of question and\ndoubt, and of the uncertainty into which we have fallen with regard to\nthe relation of the present to the past: in the process of our\ninvestigation we saw this in particular in the division and conflict\nbetween the different systems of life. History is seen to be a difficult\nproblem far more than a secure fact; and we are compelled to take up a\nnew consideration of the question.\n\nIn this consideration a distinct delimitation of the achievements\ncharacteristic of man is primarily necessary. Modern science already\nrecognises a history of nature, and much that was formerly regarded as\ncomplete is now seen to be in a state of flux and movement. Since every\nevent leaves effects behind, in the course of ages the results\naccumulate, develop, and act upon one another, that which comes later is\nconditioned by the influence of the earlier and is intelligible only in\nrelation to it, a distinctive historical method gains currency. Geology\npresents to us with particular clearness a history of this type. In so\nfar as man belongs to nature and the spiritual life has not yet\ndeveloped to any degree of independence in him, he is also the subject\nof such a history. That which happens within him leaves behind effects\nthat become the conditions of later occurrence. This conception of\nhistory, as determined solely by mechanical causes, is still maintained\nin some quarters in spite of further developments of thought. But it is\nnot apparent from this point of view how, even with the greatest\naccumulation of effects, history could yield anything of gain to an\ninner unity, to a life from the whole: for that, man must bring with him\nsomething essentially new; and as a matter of fact this is what he does.\n\nNot only do events happen to us and change our condition, but with our\nown activity we are able to hold fast to these events, to give to them\nan inner permanence, to bring them ever anew from the dim distance into\nthe living present. We do not drift onward with the stream of time, but\nwithstand it; seek to wrest something fixed from \"becoming\" and change,\nand salvation in the eternal. We cannot do this without altering the\nwhole view of things and manifesting a new spiritual capacity.\n\nThe retention in mind of individual events by means of annals, monuments\nand similar methods is the beginning of a history of a higher kind: even\nso much shows a greater activity, since it involves a judgment of the\nsignificance of events, and on the basis of this judgment begins to\nwage war against the destroying power of \"cormorant devouring time.\" The\nachievement is incomparably higher, if certain spiritual unities and\ntendencies are adhered to and are given permanent currency: thus\nreligion in particular gave a stability to life and delivered men from\nthe tyranny of the mere moment. The matter remains simple so long as the\nmovement is within a single people or a definite sphere of culture. But\nin its progress it goes far beyond these limits. New peoples arise; the\nstate of culture undergoes great changes, indeed revolutions; life is\ntaken up from new starting points, from which everything of importance\nto earlier ages loses its value. But it is lost only for a time; a\ndesire to return to it and to bring it into complete harmony with the\nnew is soon felt. The circle of vision is thus increasingly widened, and\nall multiplicity is finally united into a whole. This retention of the\npast is primarily a matter of knowledge and of intellectual\nappropriation. But it is not limited to this; it would operate not only\nin the extension of knowledge but beyond this in the development of\nlife. Whatever has been won by human power is to be preserved, unified,\nand used to advance the present. Thus, there arises a historical\nculture; an education on a historical basis; religion and philosophy,\nart and law derive power and content from the work of universal history,\nand life as a whole seems to win a greater comprehensiveness and\nstability. And so it has come to appear as though the past imparts its\nwhole result to the present without any effort on the part of man and\nwithout incurring him in any risk.\n\nIn reality the case is entirely different. The stream of the ages\nbecomes spiritually significant to us only in so far as we develop an\nindependence of it. The stream does not itself, automatically and\nindependently of us, select the elements of value which it contains or\nunite the ages to a harmonious result: we ourselves must achieve this.\nSpiritually regarded, we do not from the beginning stand upon a sure\nfoundation, on which we might peacefully build; we must first acquire\nsuch a foundation through endeavour, and in this matter we see doubt and\nviolent change continually make that uncertain which is apparently most\nsecure, and make it necessary to seek greater depths.\n\nFor this treatment of history, involving, as it does, self-determining\nactivity, an elevation above time is essential. Without in some way\ntranscending time we could not survey individual events and unite them\nin one representation. But we would do far more than that; we would\nselect and take up into our own life that which is valuable in the\nearlier, in order thereby to enrich and strengthen our life, and to lead\nit as far as possible from the present of the mere moment to a present\nencompassing the ages. How could this come to pass unless we were able\nto secure an independent vantage ground transcending the stream of the\nages; a vantage ground from which we may survey and judge the ages,\nappropriate some elements from them and reject others? Experience shows\nclearly enough that the tendency and the content of life with which we\nmeet the past, decide what shall be its spiritual representation, and\nhow we shall stand in relation to it. For experience shows that each\nmain tendency of life has its own view of history and its own treatment\nof history; it shows further that every change in life which is in any\nway far-reaching involves an alteration in our relation to the past;\ngives prominence to the new, and relegates the old to the background.\nThere arises therefore a history of history; a history, for example, of\nthat which in the life of Antiquity has seemed essential and valuable to\nthe different later ages. For us, therefore, history, in regard to its\nspiritual nature, is involved in constant change. The past does not\ndecide concerning the present so much as the present concerning the\npast; the past is not something dead and fixed behind us; ever anew it\nbecomes the object of passionate conflict.\n\nBut does not this dependence of the past upon the present deprive\nhistory of all independence and of all value? Does it not surrender life\ncompletely to the contingency of the changing moments? Does it not\ndestroy all inner unity of the ages? This would, in fact, be the case\nif the matter remained on a simply human basis; if a spiritual life\ntranscending time were not manifested through all the changes of the\nages; if a spiritual history could not be distinguished from a narrowly\nhuman one. Spiritual history is concerned with that which through all\nhuman activity and endeavour reveals a self-conscious inner life and\nwhich, as such a revelation, is valid not only for a particular age but\nthrough all ages and independently of all ages. Spiritual history would\nbe impossible unless there is active within us from the beginning an\nindependent spiritual life which first realises its content through the\nhistorical process.\n\nSuch a transcendent nature is most evident at those highest points of\nhuman development which we call \"classical,\" not because they should\ndominate and bind all ages, but because in them the spiritual life\nattained to a complete independence over against man, lifted him above\nhimself into the fire and flood of creative activity, and made it\npossible for him to produce characteristic contents. These classical\nachievements are especially important for the development of life if\nthey not only bring something new in individual departments and in\nparticular directions, but also shape and present the whole to us in a\ndistinctive manner, and seek to appropriate to themselves, and in the\nappropriation to elevate, the spiritual impulse that exists in man; if a\nnew being, in contrast to nature and society, emerges and would become\nlord of the whole. Life as a whole is thus transformed into a problem\nand a conflict. The question is whether this movement is able to take up\neverything into itself and to lead life to its highest level, or whether\nit meets with an insuperable resistance. In this matter life tests\nitself by itself, by its own development--a thing which is possible only\nif its experiences arise out of its being as a whole. If in a particular\ncase it proves that essential requirements remain unsatisfied, that the\nmovement is not able to include the spiritual life within itself, a\nsevere convulsion is inevitable, the spiritual life as a whole comes to\na standstill, and there can be no advance until life concentrates anew\nand the new concentration gains ground. It is to be expected that a new\nconcentration will bring forward and develop that, in particular, which\nformerly did not find complete satisfaction. In the first place,\ntherefore, there is an abrupt break and the emergence of an apparently\nirreconcilable opposition: the old is relegated to the background;\ntested by the new, the old soon comes to be regarded as a complete\nmistake. In reality it is not so. For, as certainly as spontaneous\ncreative activity was operative in the old and produced characteristic\ncontents, it involves something which, superior to all the change of\ntime, will survive convulsion and doubt, and assert itself in some way\nin a more comprehensive life. But the old will not survive and re-assert\nitself unless the timeless reality within it separates itself from all\nhuman and temporary addition; unless it manifests what lies behind the\nhistorical form.\n\nThe same thing happens in the case of the new movement that arises. With\nall its greatness of achievement, limitations become manifest in it;\nthen, more comprehensive forms arise; and so in the historical movement\nas a whole the spiritual life is revealed in forms continually\nincreasing in content. In opposition to the tendency for one age to be\nseparated from another, however, a desire for unity, for a life which in\nsome way embraces the multiplicity of movements and concentrations of\nlife, and binds them into a whole, makes itself felt. A unity can hardly\nbe achieved by simply regarding the different concentrations and\ntendencies as on the same level and making a compromise between them;\nrather it is necessary that the different concentrations and different\nmovements contend with one another; it is just their conflict which may\nelevate and deepen life. The movement to secure this unity and to retain\nelements from the past is not an accumulation of elements and tendencies\nin time, but an increasing deliverance from time, the establishment of a\ntimeless truth independent of the change of things. Experiences, of\nwhich the external manifestations no longer exist, are again called to\nlife, and preserved for all time by spiritual power; indeed, that which\nis lost in immediacy by the absence of the external manifestation is\nmore than compensated for by an advance to the source of the power:\nthings which in their temporal form are a mere co-existence are\ntransformed into an organised whole. Movements, which in history have\noften been engaged in passionate conflict, may enter into a relation of\ninteraction, and may be regarded as a sequence of stages, in which the\nearlier prepares for the later, and the later presupposes the earlier;\nin which all give life to and further one another. A universal life thus\nprogressively arises within the domain of man; the individual\nachievements unite more and more to the building up of a new, enduring\nworld; the whole realises itself in the individual occurrence, and\nthrough the development of a time-inclusive present transcends the mere\nmoment.\n\nThis movement of life in history involves more unrest, conflict and\ndoubt, than the nineteenth-century doctrine of evolution implied. For\nthis doctrine saw in the historical movement the unfolding of a\nspiritual life, sure as regards its foundation and its main direction;\nthe antitheses within that movement seemed to be involved in a single\nprocess, which determined the limits of each tendency in relation to the\nothers; a transcendent necessity was regarded as leading to the\ndevelopment of all in their relation to one another. As a fact, the\nconflict is also concerning the substance and the main direction of the\nwhole; the spiritual life must first realise itself within the region of\nmankind, and it is realised through the toil and work of man himself. It\nis just the fact that the problem is an ultimate one, that even the\nfundamental forms of life develop only in conflict and experience, and\nthat we are concerned not with winning simply this or that in life, but\ngenuine life itself, that makes history significant. At the same time,\nthis brings man into a more inward relation to the spiritual life, and\nthis life is made more his own life and being than if he were\nsurrounded by the power of physical or intellectual processes. Nothing\nmakes humanity as a whole more significant than that in its province and\nthrough its work the new world begins to develop.\n\nWith such a conception of history, the philosophical treatment of it\nmust direct its attention chiefly to the independent spirituality which\nin the course of the centuries, and especially in great changes, is\nevolved in contrast with the narrowly human; and to the main direction\nwhich is given to life by this spirituality. The philosophical treatment\nof history ought first of all to trace the liberation of life from the\nsimply human; the inner elevation of our being to a more-than-human.\nAntiquity at the height of its spiritual development began to desire a\nuniversal truth independent of man; a moulding of life in accordance\nwith an inner right; and an order of things beyond the power of human\ncaprice, as was shown by the giving symmetry and harmony precedence in\nart, and justice in conduct. Christianity brought about a liberation of\nthe innermost disposition, the root of endeavour and of love, from\npurely natural impulse, however ennobled; and in this way brought men\ninto new relationships and set them before new tasks. The Modern Age on\nthe part of science began a relentless conflict against the\nanthropomorphism of the mode of life as immediately experienced; thus it\nhas made the spiritual life even in its form independent of man, in that\nit has created spiritual complexes and has recognised in them movements\nand inner necessities of their own. Through the whole of this movement\nof universal history life frees itself more and more from its dependence\nupon mere man, and from the bondage to \"given\" presuppositions and\n\"given\" natural impulses, and from a \"given\" world in general. Life is\nbased more and more upon its own independent nature, and from its\nposition of independence develops a new kind of being. It is this gain\nof a new world through struggle that alone gives to history a meaning\nand an inner unity.\n\nIf history thus accomplishes the formation of great spiritual complexes,\nand if there is an endeavour to fit these with all their antitheses into\nan all-comprehensive whole, if it unites all ages and all powers with\nthe bond of a universal task, it is a clear witness to the living\npresence of the spiritual life within the human sphere. Apart from this\npresence all these achievements would be impossible, and the whole\nmovement must vanish into thin air. The estimate of history here given\nis valid only when a spiritual history is clearly distinguished from\nmerely human history. Only when history as a whole gains a soul and a\nsupport from this spiritual history are the non-spiritual factors able\nto attain to any rational significance; only then can history have a\nmeaning and transcend the relativity from which otherwise it cannot\nescape. On the one hand, history demands for its own existence the\npresence of a spiritual world within humanity; on the other, it\ntestifies to this presence by that which is characteristic in its own\ncontent; by that which can be understood only as a progressive\ndisclosure of such a world.\n\n\n(ii.) _The Spiritual Conception of Society_\n\nThe problem of society is closely akin to that of history. In the life\naround us a certain union is attained in that men dwell together, but\nthis immediate union does not simply of itself produce a spiritual\nunity, a spiritual whole: if society manifests such a unity, then in it,\nalso, a distinctive revelation of the spiritual must be acknowledged.\n\nModern science shows clearly and distinctly that the individual is not\nan isolated atom, but exists in relation with a social environment; and\nthat, even to the innermost recesses of his being, he is determined by\nthe constitution of this environment. But science falls into serious\nerror if it goes beyond the truth of this contention and attempts to\nrepresent spiritual creation as the result of the mere inter-relation\nand accumulation of individual powers. For between spiritual creation\nand this inter-relation and accumulation of individual powers, in spite\nof all their external proximity, there is the widest divergence.\nSpiritual creation requires to be treated as an end complete in itself,\nand must follow the laws of its own being; it claims an inalienable\nsupremacy above all trivial human interests, which yet for a time\ndominate the common life. Further, it cannot succeed without the\ndevelopment of an inner unity which maintains and characteristically\nforms a whole of life. The existence of men side by side gives rise to a\nvariety of opinions, strivings, dispositions, which mingle confusedly\ntogether; the usual condition of things that arises from this confusion\nhas anything but a definite character. The condition of our own time\nmust convince everyone who is unprejudiced, how little this pitiable\nconfusion can of itself produce anything spiritual and associate men\ntogether in an inner unity. For in the epoch of railways, telegraphs and\nnewspapers, of large towns and of factories, movements of the masses are\ncertainly not lacking; they surround the individual and influence him\nmore strongly than ever before. But where, out of all the fluctuation of\npublic opinion, out of the confusion and bustle of life, does creative\nspiritual activity arise, give to life an inner content, and unite\nhumanity in an inner community? Rather, we see humanity continually\nsplit up into opposing factions; we see the strife tend more and more to\naffect the foundation of our existence.\n\nHowever, in spite of the spiritual impotency of the movements of the\nmasses, creative spiritual activity has emerged in humanity, has\novercome the separation of the individuals and inwardly unified the\nforces of life. It must not only be possible to effect, but we must\nactually effect a unity which transcends the individuals, a union which\nhas its source in the spiritual life itself.\n\nIn reality the experience of humanity shows such a union. Of primary\nimportance in this connection is the fact of the power of so-called\n\"ideas\" in history--the fact that certain aims transcending natural\nwelfare win power over the whole domain of culture, bind men together\nand lift them above their selfish interests. To be sure, in the\nmovements which arise to carry out these ideas much that is\ninsignificantly human is introduced; and the interests of individuals\nand of classes often largely preponderate, but the origin and the\nprogress of these movements cannot be accounted for by the merely human;\nthey are only to be explained as due to man feeling directly within\nhimself the necessity of spiritual tasks. If he feels this necessity\nonly under particular conditions, and if it is only for a short time\nthat it asserts itself at its highest, still it extends its influence\nover life as a whole, and is everywhere a unique phenomenon, even when\nlimited and confused by much that is alien to it.\n\nFurther, the fact that whole peoples have developed distinctive national\ncharacters is of importance in this connection. Such a character is\ndistinguished essentially from all mere participation of common\nconditions, not only physical but also psychical, that social life\nbrings with it. For the development of such a character life must rise\nto energetic activity and become unified; there must be an advance\ntowards a common goal; an active relation must be taken up not only\ntowards the environment but also towards itself. A national character is\nnot \"given,\" but is attained through the work of history; it develops\nonly through common experiences, sufferings, and triumphs: in its origin\nand its continuance it involves an elevation above the aims of physical\nand social preservation, a development of pure inwardness.\n\nFinally, no inner relation of humanity proceeds from the physical\nassociation of men, from their meeting in a common world. If a vital\nwhole, a common truth, did not exist within us, all our relations would\nbe external: we could not follow common aims in life and endeavour or\nhave common experiences; we could not think and live for one another, or\ndevelop spiritual contents in different departments, such as those of\nlaw and religion, science and art, and give to them a cognate spiritual\ncharacter. It is always the presence of a self-conscious reality that\nbinds humanity together inwardly. We can be as certain in our\nacknowledgment of this presence as we can that our experience shows such\nan inner unity in important achievements and in the formation of whole\ndepartments of work and other complexes.\n\nWith its acknowledgment we avoid the severe contradiction that is shown\nin the contemporary estimate and conception of humanity. To our more\ndispassionate consideration of things the disagreeable aspect of the\nsocial machinery, the growing sharpness of the conflict, the passionate\neagerness of the desire for more, the inconsistency between the enormous\namount of subjective excitement and the spiritual poverty, are clear.\nLogically, this confused and self-contradictory state of affairs ought\nto lead to a rejection of the whole, and to a pronounced pessimism. Yet\nhumanity is regarded as noble and worthy of respect; it is made the\nvalue of all values; the object of our faith and our hope; all our\nefforts are directed towards its well-being. And this is done without it\nbeing perceived that thus the basis of experience is forsaken and that\nthe impression of humanity obtained from experience is bluntly\ncontradicted: the introduction of an abstract conception seems to alter\neverything and to lead to its being regarded as good. In the shattering\nof beliefs at least this one has remained: belief in the power of\nabstractions. He who would abandon this belief and at the same time hold\nfast to the high estimate of humanity must admit that a spiritual world\nis active in man, and in so doing acknowledge that man is more than he\nappears in immediate experience. Such a one will feel increasingly the\nnecessity of actively comprehending and definitely distinguishing from\nthe medley of trivial social concerns every manifestation of a spiritual\nworld in man. It is not out of society but in conflict with it that\neverything great has grown. And yet that which is great is rooted in a\nwhole of life. Spiritual work must have its basis in this invisible\nwhole, not in mere society; and from this position it must protest\nagainst the presumptuous claim of society to evolve the spiritual life\nof its own power. The community that proceeds from a spiritual union\nwill be primarily an invisible one; but whether this invisible unity\ncould not realise itself better and be effective also in the visible\nworld is a serious and difficult question that continually becomes more\nurgent.\n\nIf the conviction that we have here given an account of definitely\ncontradicts the historico-social view of life which was so potent in the\nnineteenth century, and which deeply degraded the spiritual life and its\nself-conscious and self-determining activity, it by no means fails to\nrecognise the significance of history and society; and has no intention\nof taking up again the mode of thought common in the period of the\nEnlightenment. History and society are indispensable means for the\ndevelopment of the spiritual life in humanity: from mere individuals and\nfrom individual moments it could attain neither content nor power. But\nto declare for this reason that history and society are the generating\nbasis of the spiritual life was a definite error; though in the\nhistorical movement of the problem it certainly finds an explanation and\nan excuse. The higher estimate of history and society has grown up on\nthe basis of Idealism; to Idealism the spiritual life seemed to live and\nfirst to attain to its complete truth in history and society. Later on,\nattention and activity were diverted from a world of thought chiefly to\nthe world of sense; and with this change history and society lost their\nspiritual foundation and their animating soul. Nevertheless, their claim\nto produce the spiritual life remained; they were expected to achieve of\ntheir own power more than was possible even with the greatest exertion.\nIn truth they can bring forth spiritual contents, and serve the\ndevelopment of the spiritual life within man, only under the\npresupposition of the presence of a transcendent spiritual life. At the\nsame time their achievement in the combination of forces and in the\nproduction of spiritual results is a witness to the reality of the\nspiritual life.\n\n\n(e) _The Elevation of Life above Division_\n\nWe saw that the spiritual life attains an independence only if it does\nnot simply bring about an effect upon a world independent of it, but\nproduces a reality from itself; concentrates so as to become a reality\nitself. At the first glance man seems by no means to satisfy this\ndemand. For his life, after, in its progress, rising above its initial\nstages, in which it was undifferentiated from the environment, is\nsubject to the antithesis of man and world, of subject and object, and\nthe divergence seems to increase continually in the course of his\ndevelopment. The more power the life of the soul wins, the more it\nproduces a characteristic content, the freer and more active reflection\nbecomes, the more does the world recede before man, the more definitely\nis immediate contact with the world prevented. The gulf is not bridged\nby the epistemological consideration that that over against which we\nplace ourselves must also, fundamentally, belong to our own life, be in\nsome way included within it: this treatment signifies a removal of the\nantithesis to another region rather than an inner transcendence of it. A\ngenuine transcendence cannot be effected without an expansion and\ndevelopment of life, evolving new connections which transcend the\ndivision, and lifting us into a sphere above mere subjectivity.\n\nConnections such as these are, as a fact, brought about by an expansion\nand development of life; but these connections which in their individual\nappearances are evident to all are seldom adequately estimated as a\nwhole, and in respect of the problems to which they give rise. These\nconnections are effected in work, in work as a spiritual occurrence. We\nhave already seen how in work the object loses its alien nature and is\ntaken up into our own life; we must now follow more closely the process\nby which work is extended and deepened; produces a characteristic sphere\nof life and establishes a spiritual reality in the domain of man.\n\nAt first we are occupied in work with an abundance of individual tasks\nthat have no inner relation to one another. But the more work advances\nfrom an external contact with objects to an inner change of them, the\nmore necessary is it that these tasks should be unified so as to form a\nwhole; and that each task should have its position in this whole, and\nrepresent in itself a particular aspect of the whole. The proof of\ngreatness in a \"work\" is just that the nature of the individual aspects\nis determined fundamentally by their relation within the whole; that\nwhat is characteristic in the work as a whole is manifested even in its\nsimplest elements; thus, for example, every independent thinker has\nparticular views with regard to the nature of the fundamental forms of\nlogical thought such as the concept and the judgment; in the same way\nevery independent artist creates his own language of forms. Work not\nonly leads to a unity of life in the case of individuals; but, further,\nwithout a union of individual forces for a common end, without an\norganisation of all human work, we should stand defenceless in face of\nthe infinity of the world, and we could never advance to a state of\nculture. In such community of work man creates a new sphere of existence\nfor himself; he forms his world of work and sets it in contrast to\neverything which does not come within it. This world of work transcends\nthe individual; and yet it is our world; it is sustained by human power\nand, directing and forming, reacts upon man. For, the more unity this\nworld of work acquires and the more control it wins over the object, the\nmore definite departments and relations it evolves in itself, the more\ndoes it manifest characteristic laws and methods which, with superior\npower, prescribe to human activity its nature and direction, but which\ncan originate nowhere else than in the domain of man. And so within the\ndomain of man we rise above all caprice and subjectivity: since the law\nof the object determines man's work, his life is raised above the\nantithesis between soul and object. Work is not something that man,\nessentially perfect, undertakes incidentally and as something\nsupplementary, but it is that through which he first develops a\nspiritual life; through which he acquires a spiritual existence; and the\ncharacter of the work determines at the same time the nature of this\nexistence. As the individual departments of work evolve characteristic\nmodes of thought and conviction, so out of work as a whole a particular\nspiritual nature arises which does not exist in relation to a world\nexternal to it, but contains within itself a world formed by its own\nactivity. All this, in conformity with our fundamental conviction,\ninvolves the implication that man is not a spiritual being from the\nbeginning, but only has the potency to become one.\n\nSuch a raising of the aim which is set to work involves an increase in\nthe amount of toil that it necessitates, and the dangers which are\nincurred: the object and the encompassing life are subject to these\ndangers. For the complete success of work and the formation of a genuine\nself, it is as necessary that the object be taken up entirely into the\nprocess of work as that there should not be another vital unity more\nultimate than the self which grows up in the work, but that the self\nshould form the final conclusion: whatever is not taken up into the\nprocess of work lessens its content, weakens its power, endangers its\ntruth, and prevents just that from being achieved which is here in\nquestion. If, however, we consider the opposition that arises at\ndifferent points, genuine work is seen to be a high ideal, an infinite\ntask which even in favourable cases is only approximately fulfilled. At\nthe same time it is a witness to the sway of elevating and modifying\npowers within the domain of man.\n\nThe object is concealed from man chiefly by his own inclination to treat\nhimself as the centre of reality; to transform the environment into a\nreflection of his own being; and to measure the infinite by the standard\nof his own well-being. Along with this humanising of the environment,\nman develops the most diverse forms of occupation with it, but however\nfar such occupation may be extended, it does not lead man beyond his own\ndomain; it does not aid him in his spiritual progress. It is possible\nfor occupation upon the environment to aid spiritual progress only when\nthings attain an independence, and from this firmly resist the tendency\nof man to represent them in accordance with his subjective wishes. Only\nsuch independence of the objective makes it possible for it to arouse\nnew powers in man and for his life to be based on something deeper than\nimmediate feeling and desire, and to begin an inner transformation. But\nthis movement has various levels which differ distinctly from one\nanother; and from the position of a higher level it is difficult to\nregard the achievement at a lower one as genuine and complete work. The\nModern Age with its exact research often cannot regard the work of early\nnatural science as work of high value. A similar gradation is evident in\nthe striving for happiness; for the raising of human well-being. So long\nas endeavour is directed to attaining and preserving mere subjective\nstates of feeling, and so long as a movement beyond this subjectivity is\nnot acknowledged to exist within man himself, and the requirements of\nthis movement are not satisfied--as is the case with Epicureanism and\nUtilitarianism--endeavour, earnest as it may be, does not acquire the\ncharacter of spiritual work; it does not essentially advance life, and\ntherefore in the long run does not satisfy human needs. Epicureanism and\nUtilitarianism with all their results inevitably become insipid and\nempty to him.\n\nIf there are powerful hindrances to this endeavour for something more\nthan the subjective, there is at the same time a wealth of movement\nwhich bids defiance to them, and the course of history shows continuous\nexpansion and development of this movement; it shows that man is able to\ntake up a conflict against the trivially human, and, in the building up\nof a new world, to raise himself essentially above his original\ncondition. Exact science breaks away from the object of perception,\nremoves it to a distance, analyses it there, ascertains its laws, and\nthen restores it in changed form to men: in this it also advances human\nlife in itself, in that thought rises more freely above perception, and\na system of pure thought sustains the whole world of sense. A further\ndivergence between the struggle for physical existence and the building\nup of a new world appears in history in the endeavour for happiness and\na significant content of life. In the experience of humanity, morality\nand religion, looked at inwardly, assume two fundamentally different\nforms. On the one hand they are looked upon as a mere means to support\nman in a given world; to bring him into congenial relation with the\nworld; and so to organise this world that it may achieve as much as\npossible for human well-being. This form governs human experience at its\ngeneral level, and easily comes to be regarded as the only form. At\nhigher levels of creative activity, however, a totally different form\nmade its appearance: there was a break with the whole world of sense and\nwell-being as though with something intolerably narrow, and in a\nself-conscious life a new world arose and brought forth characteristic\ncontents; the appropriation of this world raised life above all mere\nparticularity and subjectivity; at the same time this appropriation\nbecame an infinite task and work for man and for humanity as a whole. If\nthis form of religion and morality has been manifested with complete\nclearness only at high levels of life in history, from these heights\nthis form has also exerted an influence upon the rest of life, animating\nand raising it; indeed, it is only this genuine conception of religion\nand morality which first gives to them an independence and a value in\nthemselves. Thus, notwithstanding the inadequacy of human achievement we\ncannot but recognise that life transcends mere subjectivity and the\nseparation that it involves.\n\nIn another direction complexities arise in that something objective is\nevolved and established which, however, is not brought sufficiently into\nrelation with life as a whole and united with it. Then, work may\nprogress within its own province constantly and vigorously, but it loses\ntouch with our soul; we do not realise or develop ourselves in it. With\nall the feverish tension of individual powers work is then inwardly\nalien to us, and its power over us may become a heavy oppression.\nThrough such a detachment from life as a whole work loses soul and is\nnothing more than mechanical; in short, we have all those results of\ndivision between work and soul which we may feel with particular\nacuteness in the contemporary state of culture. Experiences rising from\nthis division lead us to demand that work shall be so organised as to be\ncapable of taking up life as a whole into itself, and with this of\nbecoming our true self. Again, life as a whole cannot enter upon work as\ncomplete, for then it would force something alien upon work, and by this\npervert it; life as a whole can be evolved only from the unification and\nelevation of work itself. We do not begin and carry on work as a fixed\nindividuality, but we form individuality first through work by the\ncontinual overcoming of the opposition of subjective disposition and\nobject. Spiritual contents are not produced by a communication of\nsomething that is in itself complete to something else that is in itself\ncomplete, an interaction of disposition and object; rather must we say\nthat genuine work sets both sides in motion and with elevating power\nunites them in a single life. So understood, every movement which tends\nto the development of spirituality in individuals, peoples, ages, and\nfinally of humanity as a whole, is a witness to the possibility of a\ntranscendence of this opposition, of the emergence of a reality within\nthe life-process.\n\nWe cannot give work a spiritual nature in this way, and make it the\ninstrument of a new reality, without being compelled to acknowledge that\nthere is much less genuine work among men than we are accustomed to\nassume. On the other hand, we must also recognise that the little that\nthere is signifies much more, and indicates much greater advances of\nlife than it is usual to admit. Nothing differentiates individuals and\nages more from one another than the extent to which they take part in\ngenuine work; the degree to which they transform their life in such\nwork. Mere reflection and good will can accomplish very little in this\nmatter; without an energetic nature, a strong inner disposition with a\ndefinite tendency, as well as the favour of destiny, not much can be\nachieved. What is usually called \"life\" is only a will to live, a\nstraining after life; it yields but an outward appearance and a shadow\nof life: genuine life is first brought forth by that transformation.\n\nBut the less human existence in general immediately includes genuine\nwork, the more indispensable is it that there should be firmly rooted\ntendencies to such work in the basis of our being, and that these\ntendencies should be developed to greater clearness of form and to\ngreater effect in the work of universal history. So that our work may\nnot be split up and destroyed, we need definite syntheses that establish\na structure of life. On the one hand we must accomplish an analysis into\nindividual tendencies and departments of life which, operating\nindependently, generate life; and on the other hand we must find a unity\nof endeavour among these tendencies and departments; a movement from one\nto another; a common activity directed towards the building up of a new\nworld. These syntheses must be an immediate experience at each point;\nthey must be involved in all division of work; everywhere set\ndistinctive tasks; produce characteristic achievements; and in energetic\norganisation of existence elevate it to the level of a characteristic\nsystem of life, full of power, which presses forward to further\ndevelopment. Only thus could a movement originate which might expand to\na real whole and be capable of establishing this whole against the world\nas it is for immediate experience; only thus could humanity defend\nitself against the power of the environment and of destiny.\n\nExperience alone can decide whether our life contains such syntheses,\nand whether by means of them it forms a whole: the movement of universal\nhistory shows that there are such syntheses. The natures of these\nsyntheses give to the chief epochs of culture their distinctive\ncharacters, by which the natures of their elements and of the relations\nbetween them are determined; and man acquires a definite relation to\nthe world and can make a judgment upon it. Such a synthesis, with its\nlife-penetrating and life-forming power, certainly contains some truth;\nit is not a product of narrowly human reflection and imagination. The\ncourse of time and the changes of history, therefore, cannot simply\nbreak it down completely; rather with the truth that it contains such a\nsynthesis elevates life above time into the eternal. But it has not been\ndemonstrated that life is capable of only one synthesis, or that it may\nnot produce a variety of such: life does not necessarily realise its\nunity in simply establishing a single synthesis; it can seek unity in\nthe supremacy of a chief synthesis above others. That experience in our\nown sphere of culture shows the latter to be the case we intend to\nindicate in a few lines.\n\nA characteristic synthesis first made its appearance at the height of\nclassical Antiquity. It was art, chiefly plastic art, that determined\nthe nature of this synthesis. Form as a unifying and systematising power\nis at the centre of life, takes possession of matter and organises it,\ntransforms chaos into a cosmos; and in this exercise of power it\nrealises itself, even though its fundamental nature is regarded as\ntranscending all change and variation. Spiritual work is formative and\nselective; it is the triumphant realisation of form; it is necessary\nthat life in all its stages of development should be permeated by this\nformative spiritual activity. There are numerous independent centres of\nlife, but the tendencies from each are towards the realisation of the\nwhole, and find their perfection in it alone.\n\nThought, independent of the world, must extract from the medley of first\nimpressions permanent forms, and unite these into a consistent\nrepresentation of the whole; it finds the acme of its achievement in\nbringing this representation clearly to consciousness in a form that is\ncomplete and free from subjective addition. In conduct, an organisation\nand a unifying of the elements so as to produce a harmonious effect is\nthe chief thing. From the chaotic mass of individuals, the state by\nconstitution and law forms a living work of art, a differentiated\norganism. For the individual the chief matter in conduct is to bring the\ndiverse forces in the soul into the right relation of order and\ngradation, to reach the highest of all harmonies, the harmonious life.\n\nAll this involves particular estimates of value, a characteristic\nsolution of the problems and a harmonising of the oppositions of our\nexistence. It is a matter of general knowledge how this synthesis has\nelevated and ennobled life, and is still increasingly felt as an\ninfluence tending to further development and harmony. But it is equally\nwell known how the progress of life has rebuffed the claim of this\nsystem of life to be the only valid one. We have become aware of\ncontradictions which do not find sufficient acknowledgment in this\nsystem: a gulf deeper than it is able to transcend has made its\nappearance between man and his environment: in particular, the supremacy\nof form, which constitutes the basis of the system, has been shaken.\nAntiquity, at its highest development, had, without much consideration,\ngiven to form a living soul; its later course dissolved this union, the\nsoul degenerated more and more into an inwardness of feeling, and gave\nup all claim, if not to the world, yet to its organisation and\nformation: form, deprived of soul, threatened to become superficial, and\nto change life into play and enjoyment. It was at this point that\nChristianity intervened with a powerful effect, but it has not, in the\nsense with which we are here concerned, produced an organised system of\nlife.\n\nSuch a system was first produced in the Modern Age, and more\nparticularly in the period of the Enlightenment. This system makes force\nthe centre of life; to increase force without limit is the task of\ntasks. The elements of reality are centres of force; but these elements\nare not isolated, because force is called forth only by force, and the\namount of life depends on the degree to which relations are developed.\nSince in this way one tends towards another, they become interweaved and\njoined, and the many are united. For this system the world does not\nappear as a work of art which rests in itself, but as a process that\nceaselessly increases in volume: the main achievement of spiritual work\nis, with complete consciousness and self-determining activity, to take\npossession of this process, which actually surrounds us; to change its\ninfinite life as much as possible into our own life, and to co-operate\nto the best of our capacity for its advancement. Since here spiritual\nwork never tolerates a state of inactive peace, never accepts the world\nas a rigid destiny, but is concerned to develop the world, to analyse\nthe world as it first appears into its elements in order to reach the\nforces that move it, life acquires a more active relation to the\nenvironment than it does in the earlier, more contemplative system, and\nfeels itself to be more in the workshop of reality.\n\nThe relation of knowledge and life is changed from its traditional\ncharacter. Research cannot transform the world from the apparent calm\nand completeness of the immediate impression into movement and\ndevelopment, without analysing the representation offered into its\nultimate elements; ascertaining their laws, and finally, with the help\nof the idea of unlimited time, reconstructing from the beginning the\nworld, which it had first of all destroyed. With such destruction and\nreconstruction modern research brings the world much nearer to us, and\ngives us more power over it than does the earlier type. Corresponding to\nthe understanding of reality from its evolution, man finds his own life\nin a progressive movement. Human society is regarded less as a\nwell-arranged work of art than as a complex of forces, which come to\nfull development and make sure progress only in their relation. The\nchief demand is for the greatest amount of freedom of movement; the\ngreatest number of relations between individuals, and a ceaseless\nincrease of the stream of life, that should take up into itself all that\nbear human features. The individual also must realise his existence as\none of \"becoming\" and motion; he is not bound by a closed standard of\nnature. Through the power of his spiritual nature he is able to\nassimilate ever new capacity, and to grow without limit: nothing gives\nmore proud courage and joyous force to his life than this consciousness\nof an inner infinitude. A characteristic ideal of culture and education\nis formed: all individual departments of spiritual work are now regarded\nprimarily as means to the increase of human power, and must assume a\nform corresponding to this. And so life everywhere becomes more active\nand more powerful: it finds its aim within itself, in its own elevation,\nand has therefore no need to seek it in something external; the whole\nexistence of man becomes more his own work. As work comes more deeply\ninto touch with the nature of things the development of power becomes at\nthe same time a controlling of the world. It was not to be wondered at,\ntherefore, when the modern man, with the development of this system of\nlife, believed that for the first time he had left a childlike condition\nof constraint and limitation, and entered a state of freedom and\nmaturity.\n\nBut the further development of life shows clearly enough that this\nsystem, which makes force and movement its leading principles, is not\nthe final stage of human endeavour: the leading idea of our whole\ninvestigation is that human endeavour is more than this. We have seen\nthat a system of mere force and movement gives no soul to work and does\nnot lead life to self-consciousness and self-determination. A rushing\nstream seizes us and carries us along with it, but we reach no position\nindependent of it; and so we cannot unify the multiplicity, nor gain a\ncontent from its immeasurable achievement; indeed, the increasing\nextension of life divides us more and more into single forces, and\ndeprives us of a self that transcends the movement. At first this was\nnot fully perceived, since the soul was implicitly assumed to be force\nand the extension of movement was regarded as a pure gain to the life of\nthe soul. But the further development and the keener emphasis on the new\nstate attained could not but clearly indicate the contradiction here\ninvolved; could not but lead to a separation between soul and work, and\nforce them into conflict. Hence there is a danger of work becoming\nmechanical, and of the life of the soul, which, with this separation, is\nthrown back entirely upon the subjective, being lost in indefiniteness.\n\nThese experiences of mechanical work and indefinite subjectivity give\nbirth to a new situation, in which the problem of the soul, a problem\nwhich in the earlier systems remained in the background, is forced into\nprominence. The task of life is seen to be a more fundamental one; it is\na matter not so much of altering a given reality in one way or another\nas of first discovering a genuine reality, of advancing beyond all mere\nactivity to a being which exists within the activity.\n\nIt has become evident to us in many ways that from the recognition of\nthis a characteristic form of life proceeds. The only question is\nwhether the change is capable of bringing about a thorough organisation\nof life, whether it can produce independent centres of life and unite\nthem into a community of life, and thus lead to the development of a\nsystem of life. We ourselves most resolutely maintain the view that this\nis really possible; that life is in process of forming itself into a new\nwhole, and that with the clearer establishment of this, problems which\nhave existed from early times receive full explanation, and a definite\nadvance is made in their solution.\n\nWe saw that, in its highest stages of development, life concentrates at\nparticular points, and that a characteristic sphere of life is in this\nway brought forth, as, for example, in spiritual individualities,\nnational character, and so on. As soon as these developments are\nacknowledged to be spiritual and are sufficiently distinguished from\nsimply natural existence, as soon as the manifestation of a new world is\nrecognised in them, they become a great problem. Then they cannot be\nregarded as a mere product of a particular part of nature, but must be\naccepted as primarily a creation from the spiritual life as a whole, a\ncreation which at the same time must maintain itself and transform in\nits own activity that which it receives. The relation to the spiritual\nworld as a whole is the fundamental relation of life, and yet the\nfurther development of life does not follow immediately from the\nrelation to the whole, but from the relation to the innumerable other\ncentres of life; the infinitude that the individual being acquires from\nthe relation to the whole receives that which is particular in its\norganisation and its content only from the experience of the relation to\nothers. The relation to others, however, is not produced by nature, but\nas spiritual, only from the spiritual world as a whole and must be\ncontinually sustained by the whole. The relations of individual to\nindividual will therefore be included within the whole, and through the\npresence of the whole will be essentially advanced beyond the capacity\nof mere nature. The love that arises here is fundamentally different\nfrom all the love which arises from natural impulse; and, understood in\nthis manner, notwithstanding all that may be doubtful in respect of its\nfulfilment in individual matters, there is much point in the demand of\nAugustine, that, in the relation of man to man, not man but God should\nbe set in the first place, and that man is to be loved only through God.\n\nHowever, it is not an increase of activity alone that is sought in the\nmultiplicity of relations, but a growth of being--a being not beyond all\nactivity, but existent within it. It is necessary not only that the\nlife-process achieve more, but also that it grow in itself, change that\nwhich is alien to it into its own, and display more reality within\nitself; life must experience every single activity as the manifestation\nof the activity of the whole, and thus, along with unlimited extension,\npreserve self-consciousness.\n\nThe demand for a self-conscious life, the demand for an elevation of\nactivity to the organisation and development of being, by no means\nexcludes other forms of activity, if only for the reason that this\ndemand presents a high ideal to which man can only very slowly\napproximate. But this ideal constitutes an aim and a standard for all\nother activity; the giving of form and the increasing of force must aid\nin the development towards this aim if they are not to become devoid of\nreal worth. The more necessary it is to insist upon an animation of\nreality through the development of self-conscious life, the more must we\nguard against the danger of anthropomorphism, which, when we are hasty\nand impatient, inevitably finds an entrance to and corrupts the whole of\nour thought and life. Only with much toil and with continual\nself-criticism can life be brought to the point where the transition to\nself-consciousness is possible; and even then the whole cannot, under\nhuman circumstances, be attained at one stroke; but at first life must\nendeavour to concentrate, to form a nucleus so that in this way it may\nacquire a firm basis, and from this take up a struggle for its further\nspiritualisation.\n\nThe same thing is to be seen in the differentiation and the gradation of\nlife: everywhere a movement towards self-consciousness begins, but the\nemergence of this movement forces an antithesis into prominence, and\nlife is completely transformed into work and conflict. Thought cannot be\nsatisfied with representing the world as a work of art or as a process;\nthought must seek self-consciousness in the world. This it finds in the\nemergence of an independent spiritual life and in reality's\ncoming-to-itself; at the same time the difference between spirit and\nnature becomes more pronounced, and all the divergences in life\nincrease. Men can find their highest unity neither in joining together\nso as to form a whole as a work of art, nor in a system of progressive\nincrease of force. Neither alone could prevent society from becoming\nspiritually destitute, nor could both together. Society also needs a\nself-consciousness and acquires it only through the development of a\nspiritual content and spiritual character; but this must be won by\ncontinual struggle from the medley which constitutes the general\ncondition of social life. Again, the individual does not attain a\ncontent for his life through an immediate combination of his powers so\nas to form a harmonious whole, or through increasing them without\nlimit; the individual also must by activity concentrate his life and so\ngain the basis of a new world: never is he in his life, as a whole,\npersonality and spiritual individuality. True, there lies within him the\npotentiality to become such a spiritual individuality, and this\npotentiality may be transformed in his own activity; and the existence\nthus acquired can affect the rest of life, arousing and elevating it.\n\nThus the ideal is set completely in the distance; it is seen that we do\nnot live our life from a given basis, but that, on the contrary, we have\nfirst to acquire the basis and to preserve it by continuous work; it is\nnot a particular direction of life, but a genuine life itself and with\nthis a spiritual being that is in question. We appear, therefore, more\nimperfect than ever before. But in this connection the imperfection\nitself is a witness that important tasks are set before us, and that\nsuperior forces rule in us. In the midst of all that is obscure it\ncannot fail to be recognised that there is a movement towards the\ndevelopment of a new self-conscious reality above the capacity and the\ninterests of mere man. This movement has been manifested in great\nhistorical achievements, in the formation of fruitful systems of life\nwhich at the same time were developments of the life of the individual.\nIt has brought forth ever new creations; now it sets before us the task\nof developing a new system of life which does complete justice to\nself-consciousness, and in accordance with its main idea must also\ntransform all individual aspects and departments. Where we recognise so\nmuch to do, we are certainly far removed from opinion and pretence.\n\n\n\n\nII. THE MORE DETAILED FORM OF OUR SPIRITUAL LIFE\n\n(a) THE PROBLEM OF TRUTH AND REALITY\n\n\nWhatever there is peculiar in our conception of the spiritual life must\nbe manifested and proved in reference to the problem of truth and\nreality. In the first place our conception decidedly rejects the widely\nheld view of truth as a correspondence of our thought with an external\nreality. For the attainment of independence by the inner life makes it\nimpossible for something externally existing to be taken up into life\nwithout undergoing an essential change. It is also inconceivable from\nthis point of view how something beyond us could in any way attract and\narouse us. The problem of truth can do this only if it originates within\nour own life: it can become a compelling power only if the attainment of\ntruth aids us to transcend a division within ourselves which has become\nintolerable. The representation of life, that we have given, makes it\nquite evident that such a division does spring up within us. Within our\nown life a certain activity begins, which becomes wider and wider, and\nwhich would signify our whole being. But this activity finds limits and\ncontradiction within ourselves: much takes place in our experience\nindependent of this activity and apparently without our co-operation; a\ncertain condition of things exists, and asserts a rigid actuality; and,\nso far as this condition extends, we are bound; we bear something\nimpenetrable within us. So long as these two sides of our being remain\nseparated life is not complete and genuine: activity lacks a foundation,\na content, and a direction that is sure of its aim; and all the bustle\nof free movements, all effort of reflection cannot conceal the state of\nspiritual poverty. On the other hand, the fact that we bear so much\nwithin us that only half belongs to us and that presses upon us like a\nfate must cramp and oppress us. And so life does not experience itself\nas a unity; it lacks an inner truth, since activity presents itself as a\nwhole and yet is not one. Life itself is therefore a problem. The\nproblem must be felt to be the more serious the stronger the desire for\na self-consciousness becomes. However, self-consciousness cannot\npossibly be reached without a transcendence of the division between\nactivity and the given condition of things. Life has first to seek\nitself, its unity, its perfection; and it is just this that is the\nproblem of truth: and in this problem life is turned not towards\nexternals, but towards itself. We understand now how the desire for\ntruth can exert such an enormous power, for, in this struggle for truth,\nwe fight not for something alien, but for our own being.\n\nThis conception of truth determines also the nature of the effort to\nattain truth. The task cannot be to subordinate one side of life to the\nother, and to derive one side as far as possible from the other; that\nis, to transform the given condition of life as far as possible into\nfree activity, or to adapt activity to the given condition in such a way\nthat activity is merged into it; but the task is one of pressing forward\nto a transcendent active whole which unites the two sides, and develops\nthem both; and in mutual relation gives to activity a content and to the\ngiven condition a soul. We have seen how a movement to attain such a\nunity runs through history and extends into the soul of the individual.\nThat life is in general able to unify and raise itself is the\npresupposition of all striving after truth: the proof of this, however,\nis to be found in the actual furtherance of life, in the new contents\nwhich are thus obtained.\n\nSuch a way of regarding truth, that is, as an upward endeavour of life\nto its own unity, a unity not forced upon it but immanent, exhibits its\nunique nature especially in its opposition to the intellectualistic\nconception of truth, which, notwithstanding that it has been rejected\nand attacked so often, still continues to assert a mighty power.\nAccording to the intellectualist, cognition should treat the problem and\nsolve it of its own capacity; it seems that the synthesis that is sought\nmust be found in the first place in the realm of thought, and thence\nimparted to the rest of life. As a fact, however, knowledge itself is\naffected with particular severity by the division of free activity and\nfixed given condition; and from its own capacity thought cannot attain\nto a state of full creative activity which alone is able to overcome the\ndivision, but for the attainment of this is referred to an advance of\nlife as a whole which alone can reach an essentially new position. To be\nsure, cognition has particular fundamental logical principles which\nregulate all its work. But to regulate and to produce are two different\nthings. The most scrupulous adherence to these principles does not lead\nbeyond reflection to an inner relation to the object, to an inner\ntranscendence, a penetration, and an appropriation of the object; it\nleaves us still in the position of simply attempting to know, in a state\nof mere reflection and search. All real knowledge involves a spiritual\ncreation, an advance, and a self-formation of life as a whole. The chief\nepochs of culture have therefore given a distinctly unique character to\nthe inner nature and the fundamental texture of knowledge; the character\ngiven to it by one epoch being entirely different from that given to it\nby another. Modern knowledge does not differ from earlier knowledge only\nin a quantitative way: as soon as its connection with the chief\nsynthesis characteristic of modern life is revealed, it can no longer be\nregarded as absolute knowledge, but only as a particular kind of\nknowledge beyond which there are possibilities of further developments.\n\nFrom life as a whole the conflict will extend into all its individual\ndepartments, and give to the activity in them a greater intensity.\nReligion, art, and human society all have first to overcome the\nopposition of subjective power and alien given condition, and thereby to\nwin a truth. In no case does truth mean a taking up of things which are\npresented to the activity of life--it means rather an advance of life to\nits own perfection.\n\nIn accordance with this conception of truth, that which claims to be\ntrue will not be able to prove its right otherwise than through its\npower, that is, through its capacity to embrace life as a whole and to\nraise it above opposition into the state of complete activity. Every\nsuch attempt must prove its power and its right in opposition to rivals\nby being able to wrest from them the truth contained by them, and in new\nrelationships to lead beyond the state they reach, and to change life\nmore into a self-consciousness than they are able.\n\nHence the endeavour after truth here shows more movement, more freedom,\nmore multiplicity: different starting points and different ways may be\nchosen, and the correctness of the one need not involve the\nincorrectness of the other. The only indispensable thing is that the\nmovement pass beyond the state of division and reflection to one of\ncomplete activity; only in that way can the content of life gain through\nthe movement of life. And so we see the great significance of progress\nin work, in spiritual work; according as it succeeds, genuine life is\ndistinguished from the mere will to live. To be sure, each piece of work\nthat is here undertaken is a venture; it is far easier and far more\nsecure to continue in the state of mere reflection and reasoning. But\nthe latter does not lead us to an experience and a decision in a matter\nconcerning the development of life, and therefore does not bring us a\nstep further in this chief matter. Work with its failures is better than\nall subtle contemplation which leads to no activity; for failure can\nlead us beyond itself to truth, while feebleness and inactivity keep us\nin the old position.\n\nIn our conception of it truth is anything but a system of universal\npropositions out of which, by deduction, all detail might be derived.\nRather the organisation of life into an inner unity, upon which in this\nview of truth everything depends, will exclude all that is only general\nand turn towards the differentiation of the whole. The more life\nprogresses in this direction the less is it a mere application of\ngeneral principles; the less does it find its consummation after the\nmanner of a conclusion from given premises; the more does it become a\nprogressive activity, a new formation and an elevation.\n\nIn this conception, there is also room for a truth peculiar to the\nsingle individuals. As the comprehensive life-synthesis can permeate\nevery individual detail of existence, so it is necessary for every\nindividual life-centre to realise its own particular synthesis, and that\nevery individual should fight for his inner unity and thus, also, for a\ntruth of his own; he must, however, realise this unity and truth in\nevery particular activity. A truth which is not my truth is, for me, not\na complete truth. Only it is necessary that such individualisation be\neffected within the whole, not independent of it; it must result from\nthe inner necessity of creative activity, not out of a vain wish to\nexcel. In any case, it follows here that, as the immanent and universal\nform of truth requires more activity and power, it is also able to grant\nmore free movement and multiplicity. Truth and freedom have been thought\nopposed to one another in the course of history; if the former seemed to\nrequire unconditional submission, the latter had a strong tendency to\nshake off every tie as an oppressive yoke. If we see that truth of life\ncan be reached only through freedom, and also that freedom acquires a\ncontent and a spiritual character only through its relation to truth,\nthe opposition by no means entirely disappears, but a basis is won upon\nwhich we may strive to attain an agreement and a fruitful interaction\nbetween the two.\n\n * * * * *\n\nSo understood, the problem of truth has the closest connection with that\nof reality: with regard to the one as to the other we are concerned in\na conflict against the external conception common to a na\u00efve state of\nlife, which, though far surpassed by the inner movement of the work of\nhistory, obstinately asserts itself through the evidence of the senses\nin single individuals and hardly ceases to impress men with its apparent\nself-evidence. The na\u00efve way of thinking understands reality as a space\nwhich encompasses men and things; reality seems to be presented,\n\"given,\" to man through the senses; only that which is exhibited to man\nin these sense-relations passes current as real. In this Ptolemaic form\nof life, dominated by sense impression, everything other than sense\nfades to a mere illusion, and this includes the spiritual life itself,\nalthough in it alone is reality known. Now, however, as science has with\nno mean power led beyond this Ptolemaic representation of nature, so the\ndevelopment of life has led beyond the Ptolemaic reality. Life could not\nemancipate itself from its attachment to the environment and develop an\ninwardness without effecting a revolution in this problem. The inward\nbecomes the first and surest experience, with which all that is to pass\ncurrent as real must show itself to be in consistent relation:\neverything external loses its proximity and becomes a problem; it can be\nestablished as real only through that which it achieves for the inner\nnature and in accordance with the standards of that nature. The power to\nconvince possessed by sense impression is now based, not on its\nobviousness, but on the spiritual activity that it arouses. Here also,\nonly the experiences of the spiritual life itself can lead to the\nexperience of something less than spiritual.\n\nAs such a revolution brings clearly to consciousness the spiritual\nachievement in the formation of reality, so at the same time it gives\nthe object more movement and transforms it in spiritual endeavour. Two\nthings are necessary to the conception of reality: an independence of\nman, and a realisation of the many as a unity. Now, since that which\nlies wholly beyond experience must for that reason be inaccessible to\nus, this assertion of independence can have no other meaning than that,\nwithin life itself, something becomes detached from the stream of\nconsciousness and fixes and asserts itself as independent of it. The\npower thus to transcend the time-process is a characteristic mark of all\nspiritual activity; this activity evolves within us something in\nopposition to us, and in so doing accomplishes a marvellous expansion.\nThis is most clearly seen within the sphere of thought. For all the\nfunctions peculiar to thought receive their differentiating\ncharacteristic only through such a detachment from the flow of\nsense-presentation and by establishing themselves as independent of it:\nthe concept presents its content as something fixed in contrast to the\nstream of presentations; the judgment proclaims its connection of\nconcepts to be something that does not pass away with the act of\nconnecting them but persists in face of all the changes of the psychical\nlife. Life accomplishes a gradation within itself and lifts itself above\nthe mere stream of change. Only because life establishes within itself a\nfixed nucleus, and in this manner wins an independence of its own\nmomentary condition, can it oppose a world to itself, and set itself the\ntask of appropriating this world--that, further, that independent\nnucleus should remain no mere collection, but should be inwardly unified\nis again a requirement and an achievement of the spiritual life. How far\nthat requirement will be fulfilled depends upon the nature and the\ndegree of the development of the spiritual life.\n\nReality, therefore, is to be found chiefly in the self-consciousness of\nthe spiritual life; from this self-consciousness we build up our\nreality. Since spiritual requirement is from this point of view the\nmeasure of human undertaking, our activity is judged by the degree to\nwhich the state of the world is changed in it and has thus become our\nreality. How far our capacity reaches in this matter cannot be decided\nby preliminary consideration, but only by the progress of life itself:\nin particular it is not permissible to assume things-in-themselves\nindependent of us and thus to reduce our world to a realm of mere\nappearances. For, so far as that independence reached, things could\nnever enter our life, and never be inwardly appropriated; at most they\ncould concern us only in their effects. As far as the conception of\nnature as a mechanism is concerned, which regards all occurrence as a\ntexture of related individual points which exist, inaccessible, behind\nit, there is much to be said for the view that things are only known in\ntheir effects; but this view is an intolerable limitation--dogmatic in\nthe highest degree--if it is meant to represent our fundamental relation\nto reality and to ourselves. For then we should be related to ourselves\nas to something alien; all the self-consciousness of life would be\ndestroyed; there could be no development of being in contrast to single\nacts, but we must be completely resolved in the stream of appearances;\nthere would be no advance in the striving after reality. As a matter of\nfact, we are concerned primarily with the content that life is able to\ngive to itself; how far it presses forward to reality. Our world is to\nbe measured more especially by the degree in which life becomes\ndeepened. But from the beginning man, so far as he shares in the\nspiritual life, is not a being adjacent to reality, but within it. He\nwould never be able to attain to a reality if he did not bear it within\nhimself and needed only to develop it. Thus ultimately he does not look\ninwards from outside, but outwards from within; and his limitation is\nnot the chief thing, but the secondary.\n\nThe inner structure of our life corresponds with this conviction. It is\ncharacteristic of all spiritual life that it does not pass hither and\nthither between individual points, but includes and develops a\nmultiplicity within a transcendent unity; by this the spiritual life\ngrows within itself, and more and more acquires a self-consciousness.\nAnd it is just in this way that it evolves to a reality. Reality,\ntherefore, here is not a fixed and completed magnitude, but is of\ndifferent degrees. In the first place there is a difference in the\nenergy which maintains a union of the manifold and a transcendence of\nthe division: according to the nature of this energy the self appears,\nsometimes stronger, sometimes weaker; its power of changing, at one\ntime greater, at another smaller. Again, the force of the resistance\nthat the given condition to be appropriated offers, differs according to\nthe amount of its positive power; and the clash of the given condition\nand free activity will be harder or more gentle according to this power.\nOne man finds intolerable contradictions where to another all is plain\nand smooth; one believes that things are transformed in their own being\nwhere another holds that only their surface is affected: and so, that\nwhich one regards as reality may seem to another only a realm of\nshadows.\n\nMere energy, however, is too subjective to be able to obtain a genuine\nreality from life: for that, a transformation of life in work, an\nelevation to full activity, is necessary; but the preceding paragraph\nhas shown that this transformation and elevation is of different kinds\nand of different degrees. The system of the formation of being promises\nto give to life the most fundamental organisation and the most forceful\nreality. For into the single elements embraced by the movement of life\nit is able to breathe a life of their own, to confer upon them an\nincomparably greater independence than in those systems in which they\nare regarded as lifeless objects which are acted upon, and which only\nset isolated forces in motion. When within a comprehensive life\ndifferent centres of life meet, and in their interaction the activity of\nthe whole wins an ever richer content and a more stable nature, genuine\nreality must increasingly unfold itself.\n\nLooked at from this position, reality is not a fact but a problem and an\nideal; it does not lie at the beginning but at the end of the course: it\nis different with different individuals, peoples, and times; each in its\nparticular nature and work has its own reality. Thus we cannot\ncomprehend the problem of reality from experience without conceiving\nreality as existing in flux: the assertion of an independent spiritual\nlife, transcendent over all human undertaking, is a sufficient safeguard\nagainst a destructive relativism. It is one of the most troublesome\nappearances in the conflicts of minds that they fail to recognise the\nmany-sidedness and fluidity of our conceptions of reality; that each\ntakes his conception as the self-evident one and urges it upon the\nothers. In this way originate the many unfruitful disputes concerning\nthis world and the next, immanence and transcendence, in which the most\nexternal and superficial conception is usually presented as\nself-evident; while yet, according to the fundamental relation and the\nchief basis of life, very different conceptions arise, and as a fact,\nsystems of thought nowhere come into more severe conflict than with\nregard to their conceptions of reality. Only to a mode of thought which,\nwithout further consideration, accepts the world of sense as the genuine\nand only reality, can philosophy and religion, for example, appear to be\noccupied with things implying an \"other\" world, and which, therefore,\nare incomprehensible. On the contrary, Augustine thought to attain to\ngenuine reality and at the same time a true life only by elevation to a\nrealm above sense, so that to him the world of sense was secondary and\nderivative.\n\nTo-day we are again deeply concerned with the problem of reality.\nNotwithstanding all the passionate agitation of forces in the\nincalculable extension of and the breathless haste in work, a genuine\nreality fails us; our life lacks the proper character of being real; and\nso, in the midst of all the external results of our work, our life,\nspiritually discerned, threatens to become destitute and unreal. An\neager desire for reality exists in our time; it is often thought\npossible to satisfy it by the closest possible connection with sense\nimpression and impulse, and by expelling as far as possible all elements\nof thought. But thought is there, and cannot be expelled; with its power\nto analyse, it steps continually between us and things, takes away from\nthem the proximity they have for us, and dissolves them into mere\npictures and shadows. As a fact, the problem of reality lies primarily\nwithin the spiritual life; and it cannot be solved otherwise than in\nthat the spiritual life advances within itself from division to unity,\nfrom the movement of forces to self-determining activity, from all mere\nactivity to a formation of being. If thus our life becomes transformed\ninto a self-preservation, if in it we unfold and assert a spiritual\nbeing, we become certain of a reality and feel a satisfaction. Never,\nhowever, can reality come to us from without.\n\n\n(b) MAN AND THE WORLD\n\nThrough our whole investigation we have expressed the conviction that\nman acquires a secure relation to the world only through his belonging\nto a spiritual life acknowledged as independent; otherwise, all entrance\nto the world is shut off. The growing independence of the inner life has\nbroken down the immediate connection which dominates the na\u00efve way of\nthinking: if, however, man once finds himself set in a position of\nindependence of the world, he can hardly draw it back to himself simply\nof his own capacity. All appeal to subtlety and reflection seems only to\nwiden the gulf still more. Only the acknowledgment of an independent\nspiritual life offers a way out of such a desperate situation: if in the\nspiritual life the world attains to a self-consciousness, and if, on the\nother hand, the spiritual life is present and active within man, there\nis a possibility that man and the world are united; and that, at the\nsame time, human life also becomes cosmic. But it is a question how far\nthe possibility comes to be realised; how far the union that exists in\nthe innermost basis can be developed and transformed within us in the\nwork of life. Only the actual experience of life can answer this\nquestion. We must ascertain whether there are any particular\ndevelopments of life which are not productions of the human, but which\nmanifest the operation of a transcendent world; and, further, whether\nthese developments are able to find a more detailed formation in their\ncontact with the world around us, and to adapt themselves to the\nmultiplicity of this world. Such a turning to the individual thing would\nbe impossible if a complete life-form ruled within us and impressed\nitself on things only from the outside. For in this case this form must\ninevitably be uniformly effective in its whole extent; in appropriating\nthe multiplicity it could not itself advance to greater concreteness. If\nsuch an advance is effected, there is a contact within life between the\none and the other; and so the world acquires an inner connection with\nour activity, and the spiritual movement can take possession of the\nbreadth of our life and with its differentiation gain a greater\nintuitiveness.\n\nAn immediate union of man and world is indeed opposed to the fact that\nthe spiritual life which should unite them always exists, for us, in its\nparticular form in human existence and that this form cannot be\nprojected beyond man into the whole. The form of human existence\nconstitutes an insuperable boundary; if it governed our life as a whole,\nthen man could never overstep his narrow, particular sphere. But it is a\nconviction that is fundamental to our investigation that our whole life\ndoes not come under this form, but that there are tendencies in life\nwhich are operative beyond this form of existence, and attain to an\nindependence of it. So far as these life-tendencies may be detached and\ndeveloped, man may confidently take up the problem of the world, and\nfeel related to the world around him; he can try to transform its life\ninto his own. The particularity of his manner of presentation and\nperception then simply sets the limitation, that that which may be\nadmitted to be certain and true in its fundamental content can be\npresented only through the medium of human peculiarity; the more\ndetailed amplification of the representation is always only of a\nsymbolic character. We see from this fact that there is a contradiction\never present within our life that prevents it from ever gaining an\nultimate conclusion; however, it does not take from us the possibility\nof an inner union and a community with the whole. Indeed, the\ncontradiction itself, and the powerful movement that it calls forth, are\nto the train of thought here indicated a witness to a fundamental\nexpansion of our life.\n\nAn attempt to unite our life with the whole appears in the first place\nin thought, in its work of obtaining knowledge. This emergence of\nthought involves a transformation of life that could never be occasioned\nby mere man, but can be understood only as the revelation of a new stage\nof universal life. In thought, the intellect, otherwise bound to the\nmechanism of the sequence of presentations, attains an independence. It\nplaces itself in a position independent of the world, and seeks to\ncomprehend it as a whole, to appropriate it as a whole. The primary\nconnection with things is dissolved, to become established anew upon a\nhigher level and with an important transformation of its nature; through\nthe deviation a real appropriation is achieved. All this is incomparably\nmore than a merely becoming conscious of a given world, which is an\nexperience that could arise in some way at isolated points; thought\ncontains a development of the world which ultimately can proceed only\nfrom the power of the world itself. How can the individual matter be\nelucidated if the whole remain obscure? How can the desire for\nenlightenment obtain such a power over man, and assert itself in him in\nopposition to the interests of his physical self-preservation, if a\nuniversal movement were not operative in him? Man does not elucidate the\nworld, but the world elucidates itself within him. What is thus reached\nis valid not for him alone, but universally; the development of this\nuniversal movement of thought enables him to win a closer relation to\nthe world, a life embracing the world.\n\nOur thought cannot advance in the definite work of building up science\nwithout producing and employing a definite logical structure with fixed\nprinciples: these principles are immanent in the work of thought; they\nare above all the caprice and all the differences of the individuals.\nThis logical structure cannot be carried over and applied to the world\naround us, as all scientific research carries it over and applies it,\nwithout implicitly presupposing an objective logic of things, a\nconceivability of experience: in this, man does not simply project\nexternally and apply mechanically forms already existing in a complete\nand final state within him. For the multiplicity of things not only\ngives to those principles a particular form, in the production of which\nthey must themselves participate, but through the relation to the world\nthe fundamental forms are also further developed in their nature as a\nwhole; it is only with the co-operation of both sides that the\nthought-structure achieves what is ultimately reached. The chief thing\nis that thought actually transcends the state of contemplative\nreflection, and advances to fully active work; that out of the movement\nof our thought proceed further developments, which extend to the object\nalso; that, moreover, we come under the compulsion of inner necessities,\nand, possessing the highest freedom, are raised securely above all\ncaprice. This creative thought in us, which is at the same time our own\nthought, constitutes a witness to a meeting of our thought with a\nthought that has its basis in things and in the whole. Inability to\nimagine such a thought should never lead to the denial of an absolute\nlogic, with which all scientific research stands or falls. The\ndisclosure of this relation, however, gives to our thought, in the midst\nof all doubt, a firm foundation, a joyful certainty, an infinite task.\n\nArtistic creation and appreciation brings another characteristic\nunfolding of life; and this also demonstrates an inner relation of man\nto the world, and can be developed only when this relation is\nacknowledged. In the first place, for this creation and appreciation a\ndeliverance of life from the turmoil of ends and interests, which at\nfirst sway our existence, is essential; artistic creation and\nappreciation involves a resting and a tarrying in itself. If the world\nwere no more than this turmoil, if it did not in some way attain to\nself-consciousness, how could such a deliverance be brought about? If a\nself-conscious life were not present in man, how could a longing for an\nartistic moulding of life arise in him? But an arousing of an inner\nlife in things, the revelation of a soul, is accomplished not through\nimparting something from without, but through a meeting together of\nthings and human endeavour. On the other hand, the spiritual expresses\nitself in a visible form and in doing so moulds itself. The chief thing\nin this connection is not mere beauty, a preparation for idle enjoyment,\nbut a truth, a revelation of contents, a further development of life\nthrough and above the antithesis. How could something invisible and\nsomething visible, to express the matter briefly, find a common ground\nand combine together in a common action if nature were not more than the\nmere web of relations into which the mechanistic conception of it\ntransforms it; if spiritual life were not more than the subjective form\nof life that it is supposed to be, according to general opinion; if from\nthat form of life an inner life did not arise, and beyond all\nsubjectivity attain to a full activity, and thus to the building up of a\nreality within its own province? That we do not simply become aware of a\nmovement within ourselves, and then read it into nature, but only take\nup and lead to its own truth that which strives upward in nature, is\nagain testified by the inner advance of this striving through its\ncontact with the world, and by the infinite abundance of particular\ncontents which are revealed to us in the world and which continually aid\nin our development. Again, our life experiences the most important\nelevation in that it takes up and carries further a movement of the\nwhole, and is liberated from the narrowness of the particular sphere,\nwithout merging into a vague infinity. To realise clearly that we belong\nto the world, and energetically to amplify this relation, is of the\ngreatest significance for artistic creation and appreciation. For it is\nonly by becoming firmly established in these relations that artistic\nendeavour is able to resist the tendency to degenerate into play and\npleasure--a tendency which threatens it with inner destruction; as in a\nsimilar manner the work of thought must guard itself from degenerating\ninto mere reflection. In the realms of thought and art there remains\nmuch that is alien, ever surmise and symbol; but even symbol is not to\nbe disdained, if it serves an important truth.\n\nA universal character is shown most clearly by the movements that\nco-operate towards the ethical moulding of life. Without freedom there\nis no such moulding; but we saw above that freedom requires a world of\nspontaneous life and its presence within man. However, when freedom is\nthought of in these relations, it is elevated above the usual conception\nof it and also above the usual criticism. All moral life is pretence and\ndelusion without the arousing and fundamental idea of duty. But where is\nthe truth more clearly expressed than in duty, that what man does by no\nmeans concerns himself alone; and that nothing can constrain him but\nwhat he acknowledges as his own will, his own being? As duty is\nconcerned ultimately not with something isolated but with a whole, not\nwith a performance within the old order but with the creation of a new\norder, so in the moral life a whole new world appears to be taken up\ninto man's own will and being. Duty exhibits the new world particularly\nin relation and in opposition to the old; the new world appears in\nitself to be pre-eminently a kingdom of love. Love is primarily not a\nsubjective emotion, but an expansion and a deepening of life, through\nlife setting itself in the other, taking the other up into itself; and\nin this movement life itself becomes greater, more comprehensive and\nnoble. Love is not a mere relation of given individuals, but a\ndevelopment and a growing in communion, an elevation and an animation of\nthe original condition. And this movement of love has no limits; it has\nall infinity for its development; it extends beyond the relation to\npersons to the relation to things; for things also reveal their\ninnermost being only to a disposition of love. Again, the striving after\ntruth in science and art cannot succeed without love and an animation\nthat proceeds from it, without inwardly becoming one with the object.\nHow could this unity and activity in the whole be possible, how could\nit even become an object of desire, if the whole itself did not strive?\nAnd how could such a wealth of cultures proceed out of this movement if\nthat which was striven towards at one time was not taken up and carried\nfurther by other times; how could the single movements tend together\nwithout the unifying and elevating power of a universal life? As a\nphenomenon to the individual, the movement involves a definite\ncontradiction: wherever it has been further and more freely developed it\nhas been directed to a kingdom of love; and this has necessarily been\nthought of as the soul of reality, and a severe conflict has been taken\nup against the world of self-assertion. Thus in the realm of morality\nalso we find ourselves in world-movements, we create out of the whole,\nwork towards the whole, and are borne on the flood of infinite life.\n\nAccordingly, life-developments of various and related kinds arise: with\ntheir manifold experiences they strive to attain to a harmony and a\nunion with one another. They can seek these only on the basis of a\nself-consciousness of reality; find them only through their unification\nin a universal life, to which each individual tendency leads.\nRepresentations of the whole are attempted at the highest points of\ncreative activity by philosophy, religion, and art; these\nrepresentations accompany, indeed govern, the work in these spheres of\nlife through history. But the limitations of our capacity, through which\nwe are unable to give a suitable form to necessary contents, and through\nwhich we attribute and must attribute human traits to that which should\nlead us beyond the human, are of particular force in this matter of\nforming a representation of the whole; and, indeed, this is the more so\nthe further we remove ourselves from that which may be immediately\ntransformed in work. These representations of the whole are, therefore,\ninadequate; their content of truth is clothed in a wrapping of myth, and\nhumanity lies under the danger of taking the myth for the chief thing\nand thus of obscuring the truth, and this must produce an incalculable\namount of error and strife. Still, it is impossible to give up all claim\nto these representations of the whole; for they alone make the fact of\nour belonging to the whole and of the presence of the whole in our life\nquite clear and enable it to exert a far-reaching influence. Only with\ntheir help can the degeneration of life to the intolerable\ninsignificance of the narrowly human be resisted; only with their help\ncan a movement from whole to whole begin.\n\nThus it is a matter not so much of abandoning these representations of\nthe whole as of referring them continually to their essence; to those\nunfoldings of life which are experienced by us; to test them by these\nand to renew them from these. It was the error of the earlier\nposition--much too indulgent to Intellectualism-that it did not\nsufficiently maintain the relation with these living sources, and so\nfell into the danger of having no definite tendency, or even of failing\nto recognise the relativity of the myth. If a more energetic direction\nof life upon its own content and experiences teaches us to preserve\nthese connections better and to develop them more forcefully, a new type\nof representation of the whole is yielded in contrast to the old, and\nfar more different from it than may appear at the first glance. We may\nhope that with its development the truth will be seen more clearly\nthrough the myth, and that the striving, which we cannot give up, to win\na universal life may not lead us astray into a world of dreams.\n\n\n(c) THE MOVEMENT OF THE SPIRITUAL LIFE IN MAN\n\nThe question as to in which direction the spiritual life moves in man is\nimplied through our whole investigation, and in it receives an answer.\nNevertheless, it requires to be definitely stated and treated by itself,\nso that the distinctive character of the movement and its influence in\nthe moulding of life may be fully acknowledged. It has become clearly\nevident to us that an independent and, therefore, genuine spiritual\nlife cannot arise out of life in its usual condition, but only in\nopposition to this condition. For, however little this condition of life\nmay lack spiritual elements, they are mixed and bound up with other\nelements far too much to be able to bind themselves immediately into a\nwhole, and to display an independent power. That the spiritual life must\nand can gain a basis independent of this condition of life is the\nindispensable, fundamental idea of Idealism. But such attainment of\nindependence of the usual condition would help little if the spiritual\nlife which is based upon itself had not a particular nature of its own,\nand if from this it did not oppose everything alien and partly alien to\nitself. The doctrines of innate ideas, of an _a priori_, and so on,\nwhich have occupied humanity for thousands of years did not intend\nanything different from this. The details of the conception of these\nwere indeed often open to criticism: it was sought to exhibit individual\nconceptions and propositions as existing complete at the beginning,\nwhere rather movements or tendencies are in question, which can find\ntheir realisation only within the work of life. Again, the _a priori_\nwas limited to the intellectual sphere, whereas it is indispensable to\nall spiritual activity; for example, how can morality, rising above\nmerely natural preservation and rejecting all mere utility, as it does,\nbe conceived without such an _a priori_? To deny to spiritual life an\noriginal nature and power--an _a priori_ in this more comprehensive\nsense--means nothing else than to eliminate that life as an independent\nfactor, and to reduce it to the position of a secondary product. For\nwithout an original nature the spiritual life would be like soft wax\nthat may be shaped in one form or another to suit our own pleasure: then\nthe spiritual life could not possibly follow its own aims, could not\npossibly attain to an independence in the inner life, in which we\nrecognised the characteristic nature of the inner life. As certain as it\nis that there is a spiritual life at all, so certainly does it bring\ncertain fundamental tendencies and movements with it; as surely as it\ndevelops in particular directions--and that it does this we have\nseen--so surely is this _a priori_ also differentiated. To trace this\nfundamental state of spiritual activity in all its relations and\nmultiplicity is an especially important task of philosophic research.\n\nThe revelation of such an original fundamental activity of the spirit\nmust induce us to undertake to form our whole world from this activity,\nand to produce from it or to transform into it that which exists over\nagainst activity as an independent realm of experience. This has been\nattempted for thousands of years with the summoning of an enormous amount\nof spiritual power and the arousing of a proud self-consciousness. But\nfailure was inevitable because it was not recognised that the development\nof the spiritual life in man is conditioned. However certain it may be\nthat original spiritual movements must be active within us, they are not\nso with organised content and overwhelming power from the beginning, but\nthey acquire content and power only through the process of life itself,\nonly in grappling with the oppositions of experience and in the\nappropriation of the tasks and stimuli which experience brings to them.\nThe incompleteness and the mutability of what was accepted earlier as a\nfixed and unchangeable racial possession of the spiritual life is to-day\nquite clearly perceived. What great changes morality, for example, has\nundergone in the course of the ages; how toilsomely has much been won\nwhich later ages have considered self-evident! To be sure, morality\nremains, even through all such changes, an original spiritual phenomenon,\nwhich can never be derived from an external source, but which could\nemerge and establish itself only as an inner necessity of the spiritual\nlife in opposition to the realm of mere utility. But the actuality of\nthis original phenomenon gives rise to a difficult problem, for the\nsolution of which a closer contact with the environment, a fundamental\narrangement with experience, is necessary. And so the problem is traced\nto a more ultimate source, and, though this makes the matter less\nsimple, it gives a higher significance to our work and to the movement\nof history.\n\nEven the fundamental forms of thought which are often accepted as of\neverything the most fixed share in this gradual amplification. Man, so\nfar as he participates in spiritual impulse, thinks, of course, in\nconceptions; he gives to appearances fixed points of support by the\nestablishing of things, and relates events causally. But all this is\nfull of problems and is comprehended only in its upward endeavour; it\nraises more problems than it solves; and around the solution of these\nthe whole work of science moves. What different things the \"idea\" meant\nto Plato and to Kant, and to ancient and to modern thought generally:\nhow every thinker of moment has given a particular conception of\nsubstance and of causality; how whole epochs have exhibited their\nparticular nature in the treatment of these problems!\n\nFor the sake of its own perfection, therefore, the spiritual life must\ncontinually turn back to the realm of experience, from which, at first,\nit tore itself free. Attempts to evolve the whole life from that _a\npriori_ have always given as a result something of a bloodless nature,\nabstract in the highest degree, a mere web of formul\u00e6, in so far as\nexperience, which had been relegated to the background, has not\nindirectly asserted its right again, and infused the formul\u00e6 with life.\nAccordingly, our life does not spend itself in one direction, but bears\nwithin it the counter-tendencies of a tearing oneself free from the\nworld of sense and a returning back to it, of a detachment from it and\nan appropriation of it to oneself. But, in this, independent life and\nbound life do not become combined; how could that be the case without\nthe loss of all inner unity? A basis is necessary; and it is furnished\nonly by self-determining activity. Experience acquires a spiritual\ncontent and value only so far as it is based upon this activity, and is\ntaken up into a spiritual movement. Experience does not share something\nwith the spiritual life, but, through stimulation and opposition, it\nforces that life to further development within itself. The state in\nwhich the world of sense is first found undergoes an inner elevation in\nthat appropriation: sense presentation, for example, is to scientific\nwork something quite different from what it is to na\u00efve perception; even\nif it obstinately withstands a complete resolution into magnitudes of\npure thought, it takes up more and more thought elements; it enters into\nconceptual relations; it answers questions which the work of thought\nsets. To the whole sphere of sense science gives the background of a\nworld of thought, and transforms mere sense into a spatially bound\nspirituality.\n\nThe same thing is valid with regard to the things of value in life; in\nthese, also, sense and spirit are not simply combined; but something of\nsense becomes a spiritual good only so far as it serves the spiritual\nlife in some way; it cannot do this, however, without itself undergoing\na transformation. This is to be seen nowhere more clearly than in\neconomics. Money and estate had at all times a value for\nself-preservation and enjoyment, but in the doctrine of economics and\npolitical economy they could obtain acknowledgment only after a power to\nadvance the spiritual life had been recognised in them. As culture in\nthe ancient world had not yet reached this point of view, it branded all\nendeavour after material wealth as inferior, and as far as possible\nchecked such endeavour. Only since the Modern Age has recognised in\nmoney and estate an indispensable means of gaining control over the\nsurrounding world and of increasing human power have they secured a\nplace within the spiritual life, and as a result of this have become\nmore highly estimated. At the same time, however, they have been changed\ninwardly in the process, since that which they achieve, not towards\nostentatious display and enjoyment, but towards the increase of human\npower over things has become the chief matter.\n\nAs in this way the content and the value of that which is offered by the\nworld of sense shows its dependence upon the condition of the spiritual\nlife, so in science also a similar relation between experience and the\nspiritual life is found. Science appeals to experience with particular\nzeal, more especially after it has first accomplished far-reaching\nchanges in its own thought constructions; only then does experience give\nanything new to knowledge and exhibit a greater depth. Experience can\nanswer only in the measure in which it is questioned; the question,\nhowever, varies according to the stage of development of the spiritual\nlife.\n\nSuch a view fully appreciates the significance of life-work, and must\nstrive energetically to gain its acknowledgment. This work is not a\ncarrying out of a complete scheme in a given condition of things, an\napplication of firmly rooted principles to particular cases, but a\nself-realisation and self-perfecting of the spiritual life which builds\nup a self-conscious reality. In this our life is not divided between two\ndifferent realms, but, in a comprehensive spiritual world, different\nstages of reality meet together, which must be brought into relation and\ndeveloped. To be sure, the world of sense retains a certain\nindependence; it resists a complete transformation into spiritual\nmagnitudes, and our life, therefore, retains a certain restriction and\nimpenetrability. But the self-consciousness of the spirit becomes more\nand more the chief basis and sphere of life: this self-consciousness\ncontinually takes up more into itself; it makes the world that was to us\nat first primary, indeed the only world, more and more secondary and\nsubordinate.\n\nThis increasing spiritualisation of human life never becomes a sure\npossession that calls for no toil; ever anew it demands our attention\nand activity; it has continually to be won anew as a whole. As soon as\nthe tension slackens, the world of experience with its appeal to sense\npreponderates, and it soon appears to be man's sole world, one which\ncannot tolerate anything beyond itself. For the spiritualisation of\nhuman life, a longing rooted in the whole being is primarily necessary;\nfor with the keen feeling of the vanity of the world of sense\nexperience, this leads to the removal of the centre of life into the\ninvisible world of self-determining activity. Further, a clear\npresentation of this invisible world is needed; and in this the help of\nthe visible is not to be dispensed with. For its own establishment the\nrealm of the invisible must borrow means of expression from the visible,\nwhich now governs human presentation; must transform and refine them for\nits aims; prepare out of them an impressive presentation of the whole.\nAlong with the energy of turning to the spiritual life a creative\nimagination is required, through which the invisible may become equal to\nholding its own against the visible.\n\nThe help of such imagination is indispensable for religion, in order\nthat the supernatural world advocated by it may gain an effective\npresence in the province of humanity. And so with bold upward flights of\nimagination the heroes of religion have projected a new condition of\nreality as a whole, a kingdom of justice or of love, and have judged\nhuman existence by the standard of this new condition. Similarly,\nphilosophy did not become an independent world of thought without the\nhelp of imagination; and of how indispensable it is to art we need not\nspeak at all. Again, work in political, social, educational matters, at\nleast as far as radical renewals are concerned, has really been taken up\nand carried on, and has won a triumphant power, only where the state\nstriven for has been presented as something visible and clearly present;\nthis alone has united the multiplicity, and has led with compelling\nforce beyond the extant situation as though that were something\nintolerable. Humanity as a whole must be present in an ideal condition\nto our minds for us to be aroused sufficiently from our indolence.\n\nOur life, therefore, contains movements which tend in opposite\ndirections: there are a pressing forward and a turning backward, a\ndetachment from experience and a taking up again of experience; and so\nwe may well speak of an action and reaction within its movement. But\nthe antitheses that arise aid in advancement only so long as they are\nencompassed by a whole of activity. In that the course of history\nincreases far more than it diminishes the antitheses, the dangers grow\nmore and more, the possibilities and the tasks of human existence,\nhowever, also grow.\n\n\n(d) THE EMERGENCE OF A NEW TYPE OF LIFE\n\nThe conception of the spiritual life here developed gives rise to a\nparticular type of life which can bring about a transformation and\nelevation of man from two main positions: the union of man with the\nspiritual life is much closer, and the spiritual life in itself is\nincomparably more, than is represented by the customary conception of\nthat life. For in our conception man does not merely enter into some\nkind of relation with the spiritual life, but finds his own being in it,\nand becomes so completely united with it that it is able to determine\nhim immediately as his own self. The spiritual life is not a particular\nfunction among others, not a part or an aspect of a more comprehensive\nworld, but is itself a world, and, indeed, a world in which life first\nattains to self-consciousness and becomes a complete reality. If this\nworld becomes the immediate possession of man himself, his life must\nexperience a deep-reaching change, indeed a revolution of its usual\ncondition: to trace the main tendencies of this revolution is our\nimmediate task.\n\n\n(1) _Life's Attainment of Greatness_\n\nThe placing of man in the spiritual life, becoming aware of its own\nindependence, must make the forms of this life his own, and in this way\nbring about a reversal of the commonplace of every day. Life is\ntransposed from the narrowness of its merely particular nature to\ninfinity; what was hitherto alien and hostile to man is changed into his\nown possession, and is able to arouse an animating and elevating love.\nAt the same time a deliverance from subjectivity and its web of\ninterests and ideas is effected, to the advantage of a life-process that\ntakes up the object into itself, and thus advances to independence and\nsovereign creation; a life is attained that is not spent in movement to\nand fro between antitheses, but unfolds a content through them. As this\nlife attains to complete independence only because it produces a\nuniversal activity in contrast to individual activities, so\nparticipation in this life must lead man beyond division to a\ncomprehensive unity. It is this that is sought in the idea of\npersonality--an idea which is often quite obscure and superficial, but\nwhich can in this context be elucidated, manifest its complete\nsignificance, and prove its power of development.\n\nAs the spiritual life is a self-consciousness, so man also wins from it\na life that is not exhausted by activity directed upon anything external\nto this life, and that does not expect its content from outside like an\nempty vessel, but would be itself and realise the possibilities lying\nwithin itself. So far as such a life extends man does not stand on the\nborder of things but in the centre, in the formation and creation of the\nwhole; he experiences the world not as something external but from\nwithin. The question of the limits of this life is no longer primary but\nsecondary, and the answer to this question is to be expected from the\nexperience of life, not from preliminary reflections. Since, in this,\nlife has a content in itself and develops this content through its\nmovement, it distinctly grows above all the play of forces with which it\nis often confused; if such a play of forces suffices for a lower stage\nit cannot suffice for further development. For the feeling of joyous\nexcitement which accompanies the exertion of power is not sufficient in\nopposition to the serious perplexities that accompany all spiritual\nwork; indeed, not even against the cares and needs that are involved in\nthe mere preservation of existence in an advancing culture. Life then\neasily comes to be regarded as full of trouble and of work, and becomes\na burden from which one wishes to be delivered. Life is not from the\nbeginning a good, but it must prove itself to be such by its more\ndetailed development. In the spiritual life this comes to pass, since it\nproduces a reality out of itself; it does not become valuable first in\nits relation to the external world, but it carries a value in itself, as\nis clearly shown by the joy that permeates all experience of the true,\nthe good, and the beautiful. This joy must be further increased if all\nthe multiplicity of this experience is regarded as the unfolding of a\ncomprehensive and persistent fundamental life.\n\nA life of this kind is no indefinite impulse; it cannot become an\nindependent reality without penetrating into every aspect and making the\nordinary state of things everywhere inadequate, indeed intolerable.\nSince the independent spirituality and spiritual character that is\nacquired, and that which the particular thing and activity signifies in\nthe spiritual life as a whole, everywhere constitutes the most important\nquestion, the problem of truth will be raised at each point; and in this\nway a sharp division will be made between the genuine and the spurious;\neverything that strives within us in the direction of the spirit will\nunite and acquire a more stable basis; everything that would satisfy man\nin other ways will be seen to be empty and vain. Life now acquires a\ndeeper reality, but this must first be reached and brought to complete\neffect. New forms, in contrast to the ordinary representations, must\nalso make their appearance if life is to be equal to the task of\ndeveloping content and character.\n\nLife in the individual must have roots deeper than the immediate\npsychical life; for psychical life cannot itself produce and make clear\nthat which occurs in it, for this reason at least, that it involves the\nantithesis of individual and environment, of subject and object, beyond\nwhich spiritual creation results. The spiritual impulse that the\nimmediate life of the soul manifests can be based only upon deeper\nrealities and more comprehensive relations. And so a _no\u00f6logical_\ntreatment is to be distinguished from the psychological, not in order to\ndisplace or limit the latter, but rather to complete it; and it is a\nproblem to show the point of transition in the immediate life of the\nsoul. The significance of the individual life, as far as content is\nconcerned, will depend upon whether an independent spirituality arises\nwithin it, and constitutes it a distinctive life-centre. According to\nthe new standards a free spiritual activity does not suffice, however\nextended it may be, and however sustained by subjective emotion. For all\nsuch activity may be without spiritual substance, and in spite of all\nexternal results the life that is nothing but this activity may remain\nspiritually destitute: how shallow many individuals are whose\nachievements deserve and obtain the highest appreciation! The inwardness\nthat the spiritual life requires is not simply a reflex of work in the\nsoul--from that little is gained--but the forming of a characteristic\nspiritual self-consciousness that lifts us above all mere achievement,\nand also by giving to activity a soul first makes it complete.\n\nWe have often seen how the acknowledgment of an independent spiritual\nlife forces us to make a sharper distinction between human history and\nhuman society and all merely natural history and merely natural\nco-existence of men. At the same time, in that which is called history\nand society, a distinction between an esoteric and an exoteric kind is\nalso required. The value of individual epochs and of history as a whole\ndepends upon the spiritual substance that grows up in them; everything\nelse, to whatever extent it may, with commotion and external result,\nassume the air of being the chief thing, is only environment or\nsupplement. Similarly, in the case of society, the spiritual content, if\nit has one at all, and human fortune and conduct must become more\ndistinctly separated. There is far less genuine history and society than\nis usually assumed; but this little signifies incomparably more than\nboth would imply without the spiritual life.\n\nSimilarly, with the acknowledgment of an independent spiritual life in\nus, a new light is shed upon the individual departments of life, and new\ntasks are set them. They have now, primarily, not to further human\nwell-being, to be of service in the attainment of narrowly human aims,\nbut they are characteristic unfoldings of the spiritual life. The\nparticular nature of these departments has its basis in that life, and\nthey must prove their capacity by advancing it. They are concerned with\nman only so far as he participates in the spiritual life; and so they\nwill not so much strengthen him in his human nature as elevate him\nspiritually, and remould him more and more to the form of the spiritual\nlife. A deliverance from the confusion of that which is narrowly human\nwith the spiritual is also necessary, and, along with this, life as a\nwhole must be more energetically based upon the spiritual life, and the\nspiritual life itself must be given a more distinct form. From the\nposition of this life, that which has been handed down to us must be\nevaluated and new paths must be opened up for the future. Religion could\nobtain no content, and all change in it would be only an advance from a\nmore crude to a more refined anthropomorphism, if it were based solely\nupon human needs and aided man to attain a supposed happiness. Religion\nrises above such a condition of doubt only if it exhibits its roots in\nan independent spiritual life and is able to show its actuality and its\npower by aiding the development of the spiritual life. At its highest\nreligion has always been concerned with winning a new world and a new\nhumanity, not with the achievement of something within the old world and\nfor the old humanity. And as we need a religion of the spiritual life,\nwe also need a morality, an art, and, finally, an all-comprehensive\nspiritual culture, through which something really new may be produced\nand man be elevated in this being, and not simply circle round and round\ncontinually in the old paths. Everywhere the matter is one of advance\nand revelation; from this point of view the complexes of every day must\nalso be seen in a new light, and in what is apparently simple and\nself-evident great achievements and tasks become manifest. We now, for\nthe first time and in another sense, win again that which we thought we\nalready possessed; indeed, by the revolution to the spiritual life, life\nas a whole is transformed into a task. Every individual has such a\nlife-embracing task in the cultivation of a genuine personality and a\nspiritual individuality. Humanity as a whole has such a task in the\nbuilding up of a kingdom of reason within its domain, in the furtherance\nof the movement which comes to it from the whole and summons it to\nco-operation.\n\nHuman life by participation in the spiritual life finds its basis in the\ninward and spontaneous, in the infinite and eternal. The development and\nthe experiences of the spiritual life and its conflict with a world,\nwhich is only being won, are here the chief content of human life and\nunite individuals inwardly; the destinies of individuals receive their\nparticular nature from such a common life. As this life of independent\nspirituality is possible only by detachment from the chaotic condition\nof life as we find it at its general level, the development of the\nspiritual life must make us clearly conscious of the spiritual\ndestitution of the majority; and especially must it oppose the attempt\non the part of such a life as that of the majority to present itself as\nthe whole, and to make itself the standard of human endeavour. In such\nan attempt the trivially human inevitably preponderates, and this now,\nat its highest points, invests itself with ostentatious pomp and a\nfeeling of power; now, almost as a whole, relies on the reason of the\nmasses, which loudly and noisily proclaims that those things which\naccording to human opinion are valuable are of all things the highest;\nconfidently makes its judgment and its task the standard of truth; and,\nwith arrogant presumption, demands a reverence towards itself that is\ndue solely to the spiritual world. From of old there have been many\nindictments of this, but as long as a new life, based in the spiritual\nworld in contrast with merely human life, was not attained to, these\nindictments did not lead to a deliverance. Under the guidance of\nreligion humanity has evolved such a life and for thousands of years has\nfound support in it. However, humanity has lost this life and this\nsupport, in its old form, and the loss was inevitable. If humanity will\nstrive after a new form and at the same time transcend mere appearance,\nit can attain to this only on the basis of the spiritual life, that is\nacknowledged to be independent. Only on this basis can it enter into the\nconflict on the side of gods against idols, for truth against appearance\nand emptiness.\n\nThe new life cannot develop without elevating the individual in his\nspiritual nature above all environment. For, as surely as the\nconstruction of a spiritual reality within humanity needs a union of all\npowers, there is a spontaneous springing up of the independent spiritual\nlife only within the soul of the individual. All social and all\nhistorical life that does not unceasingly draw from this source falls\nirrecoverably into a state of stagnation and desolation. The individual\ncan never be reduced to the position of a mere member of society; of a\nchurch, of a state; notwithstanding all external subordination he must\nassert an inner superiority; each spiritual individual is more than the\nwhole external world. But as the individual does not derive this\nsuperiority from himself, not from a natural particularity and\npeculiarity in distinction from others, but only from the presence of a\nspiritual world, so he is securely guarded from all vain self-assurance\nand the arrogance of the idea of the Superman, which grotesquely\ndistorts the great fact of the revelation of a universal life at\nindividual points.\n\nThe desire for the presence of the infinite at the individual point may\nbe characterised as an approximation to mysticism. Indeed, we need both\na metaphysic and a mysticism; but we want both in a new form, not in the\nold. It seems to us preposterous to declare that necessary demands of\nthe spiritual life are finally disposed of, because the older solution\nhas become inadequate. If man does not in some way succeed in\nappropriating the spiritual life, if it is not actively present as a\nwhole within him and animating him, then his relation to the spiritual\nlife remains for ever an external one; and this life cannot acquire a\ncomplete spontaneity in him, can never become a genuine life of his own.\nBut the older mysticism was the offspring of a worn-out age, which\nprimarily reflected upon quietness and peace, and was under the\ninfluence of a philosophy that sought the truth in striving towards the\nmost comprehensive universal, and saw in all particularity a defect\n(_omnis determinatio negatio_). And so, to be completely merged in the\nformless infinite could be regarded as the culmination of life. As the\nspiritual life is to us, on the contrary, an increasing activity and\ncreation, a world of self-determining activity, so its being called to\nlife at individual points is a rousing of life to its highest energy; in\nthis also, a continual appropriation is necessary. Further, the movement\nof the spiritual life does not appear to us as an advance from\nparticular to universal, but as one from differentiation to the living\nwhole; from the indefiniteness of the beginnings to complete\norganisation and distinctive form. The inwardness that we advocate is\nnot a feeble echo and a yearning for dissolution, but is of an active\nand masculine nature, and rests on ceaseless self-determining activity.\nOne may or may not call this mysticism; in any case mysticism of such a\nkind cannot be charged with that which now appears to us to be defect or\nerror in the older form.\n\n\n(2) _The Increase of Movement_\n\nAs certainly as a universal life must surround us and, with efficient\npower, in some way be implanted within us, yet only our own activity can\nappropriate and amplify that life for us. As the transition to the\nindependent spiritual life changes the problem so that no achievement\nin a given world will satisfy it, but only the winning of a new world,\nour existence must become much more active; our life must be made not\nonly much more comprehensive but also inwardly transformed and deepened.\n\nNa\u00efve opinion is accustomed to presuppose a fixed sphere for our\nactivity; it is possible for it to do this only because it confuses the\nspiritual and that which is less than the spiritual and leaves them\nundifferentiated. Since the attainment of independence by the spiritual\nlife makes this confusion impossible, it may at the same time be\nrecognised that the fixed relations in which we seem to be are also in\nreality due to our own activity. From this fact a method of treatment is\njustified, the introduction of which constitutes one of the greatest\nservices of Kant. This method in his own terminology is the\ntranscendental method. Unlike ordinary opinion, it does not regard the\nrelation of the departments of life and all its activities as being\nself-evident, but it enquires into the inner possibility of this\nrelation, that is, it indicates the conditions without which the union\nof the manifold could not be accomplished; it reveals the spiritual\nactivity that exists in the whole. It reveals a far finer texture of\nlife; it shows syntheses from the whole to the elements; it indicates\nclearer limits and makes us more definitely recognise what\ndifferentiates the individual departments. This is what Kant did in the\ncase of scientific knowledge, of morality, and of the realm of the\nbeautiful. The transcendental method itself is first indisputably\njustified and given a secure foundation with the acknowledgment that a\nworld of independent spirituality emerges in man, and this through his\nown activity, not by a mere favour and gift of destiny. For, when this\nindependent spiritual world is acknowledged it first becomes a matter\nbeyond doubt that the basis, and the bonds which unite the whole, could\nnot be given, but must proceed from our own activity. The transcendental\nmethod must therefore be applied not only to the individual branches but\nalso to the whole, and the possibility of a spiritual life in man in\ngeneral made a problem. Then from the whole the method must also be\nextended to the departments that are not brought into prominence by\nKant; it must discuss, for example, the possibility of history in a\ncharacteristically human sense. Since our reality is thus dependent in\nthe first place upon our own activity, life and movement acquire a wider\nscope and a greater value.\n\nThe movement of life also tends to be increased by the fact that in our\nconviction the more detailed form of the spiritual life itself must\nfirst be won by our activity, and that this detail can be acquired only\nlittle by little through attempts, experiences, convulsions; that for\nman the spiritual life with its actuality forms a difficult problem.\nWhat more particularly separates us from the Enlightenment is that while\nfor it the ultimately valid form of the spiritual life appeared to be\nimmediately present and to need only an energetic working out, we extend\nthe historical treatment not only to the representation, but also to the\nnature, of the spiritual life; and so the ultimately valid form of the\nspiritual life appears to be a high ideal, to which man can only\ngradually approximate. The fact that endeavour is centred not upon\nexternals but primarily upon our own being must make our activity far\nmore significant and more intense; and this leads to a higher estimate\nof history as well as of a historical treatment. As hence epochs are no\nlonger distinguished simply by their achievements, but by the nature of\ntheir spiritual life, so the life of the present must also be given its\nplace in the moving stream, and so our innermost nature also depends on\nspiritual work.\n\nIf with such an increase of movement much is mutable that otherwise\nseemed to be as firm as a rock; and if, in particular, the foundations\nof life themselves also suffer change, life seems to lose all support\nand to fall into an unlimited relativism. Indeed, life must thus lose\nall stability if in the spiritual sphere movement does not involve\nsomething in opposition to change: and this as a fact it does involve.\nAs the spiritual life cannot develop a content without presenting it as\ntimeless, there is no great achievement in history that does not include\nsome kind of timeless truth, and the movement of the spiritual life is\nnot merely a flowing onward with time but also an elevation above time.\nIn spiritual work, therefore, the achievements of the ages can be\nsurveyed and examined; indeed, in distinguishing between past and not\npast the sequence of times can be transformed into a timeless present.\nOf course this is valid only with the presupposition of an absolute\nspiritual life, which is present in all the uncertainty and change of\nhuman undertaking, and does not allow it to become fixed in error.\nUnless an immanence of the absolute spiritual life is acknowledged, an\nessential characteristic of the spiritual work of the Modern Age remains\nabsolutely unintelligible, namely, its critical character. Modern work\nis not completely objective, and occupation with the object does not\ncompletely exhaust that work; but activity realises its independence of\nthe object, investigates its relation to the object, surveys that which\nhas been achieved, and tests it by transcendent standards. Such a\ncritique belongs especially to the fundamental nature of the\nEnlightenment, to the proud self-confidence of which a conscientious\nself-examination forms a necessary antithesis. The critical method\nreached its highest point in Kant, and we can never go back again upon\nthe transformation of life that has been effected by it. But how could\nthe critique be justified and exercise such far-reaching influence as it\nhas done, if it were not more than a product of a subjective reflection\nthat accompanies the object, and that has to do with the object\nexternally? The critique could effect an inner transformation and\nelevation of work only because it set new forces in motion. And it did\nthis in that it measured all human achievement by the demands of a\ntranscendent spiritual life and out of it developed inner necessities,\nto which all achievement had to correspond. So the movement was not lost\nthrough the lack of an aim; and life did not flow onward with the stream\nof presentations, but found a support in itself; it was able to exert a\npowerful counteraction; it did not need to acknowledge anything that\nhad not proved its validity before the judgment-seat of immanent reason.\nThis emergence of the question of validity in contrast to that of\nactuality must inwardly raise and ennoble the movement of life; it\nreveals to man an active relation not only to the environment but\nprimarily to himself; it leads to a ceaseless differentiation and\nexamination of the quality of life.\n\nIt is true that the Enlightenment, which acknowledged that alone to be\ntrue which was clearly and distinctly cognised, exercised this critique\nin a too narrow manner; yet notwithstanding all that may be\nproblematical in its application to details, the right and the necessity\nof the fundamental idea are not thereby overthrown: the question\nremains; it can be fully justified only in the relations that we have\nindicated; but at the same time it must be transferred from the merely\nintellectual to the spiritual as a whole, and form in relation to the\nwhole that which in the state of culture contains and develops an\nindependent spirituality and a self-conscious life; but by this it gains\na content of truth. This self-consciousness alone can be regarded as\nessence and genuine reality, while everything else is reduced to mere\nenvironment and becomes matter of secondary importance, if not of mere\nappearance. Task after task is revealed, more especially for the\npresent; we see how, with the attainment of independence by the\nspiritual life, the movement is not only extended, but also grows\ninwardly and tends towards the elevation of life.\n\n\n(3) _The Gain of Stability_\n\nThe movement of the spiritual life as not only directed towards the\noutside but also turned inwards towards itself gained for us a greater\nindependence. But even that which emerges from within exists only in the\nprocess of formation, and in this that which satisfies us to-day may\nto-morrow be uncertain; and so we cannot dismiss the question whether\nthe spiritual life lacks the necessary stability; whether, in the midst\nof all becoming and change, caprice and subjectivity are not without the\nnecessary opposition. In any case, the question of fixation must have a\ndifferent appearance within a system of life based upon activity from\nthat it would have within a system which proceeded from a given world:\nin the former, that which is fixed cannot be introduced from outside,\nbut must exist within the movement itself; it can manifest itself only\nthrough a movement of a kind and form which transcend the utmost\ncapacity of the mere subject.\n\nOur investigation as a whole contends that the fixity is of this kind;\nand at this point only a short revision and a summing up are required.\nAll spiritual activity is, as we saw, a transcendence of the antithesis\nof subject and object; it is progressive and formative universal\nactivity. But this activity cannot be produced and formed according to\ndesire or fancy; we must be elevated into it; and, as a result of this,\nwe feel that we are under the compulsion of an inner necessity, which\ndistinctly counteracts the caprice of the mere subject. We saw, further,\nthat within the life-process spiritual contents are raised out of the\nstream of events, and that they unite so as to form a world in contrast\nwith that stream, a world greater and more comprehensive, which\nnevertheless continues within our life. This applies to all the branches\nof our work; everywhere the deciding step to joyful advance is when\nactivity proceeds from mere search and contemplation under the necessity\nof the object. No resolution, however, or even the most sincere\nvolition, can of itself force us to this decisive step. Man must be\ntaken possession of by a spiritual activity and power, and elevated\nabove the state of groping and doubt. This is shown in all scientific\nwork and artistic creation; everywhere success does not appear to be the\nwork of the human, but a gift and a grace from higher forces; everywhere\nthose who have created have felt guided and sustained by such forces.\nBeyond individuals humanity as a whole develops complexes in science, in\nlaw, and so on, which evolve inner necessities and require their\nrecognition and fulfilment by man, and follow courses of their own\nregardless of the weal or the woe of individuals; so far as life follows\nthese tendencies, it is elevated above doubt to a state of stability and\njoyfulness.\n\nSuch movements appear at first as a multiplicity, and are most directly\neffective through that which is distinctive in the particular\ndepartments of life. But through all multiplicity and above it, there is\na striving towards a comprehensive unity; every advance towards this\nunity is an immediate gain in stability and certainty. Nothing helps the\nindividual to become inwardly firm more than the unification of his life\nin a whole of activity, more than becoming certain of an inward\nall-comprehensive task in the development of a spiritual individuality.\nThe development of a spiritual individuality is a task that comes to him\nfrom within, and which, while it is more than anything else his own, is\nyet above all caprice. This task may tend little to promote that which\nis usually called happiness; the striving to fulfil it may transform the\nwhole of existence into a state of toil and trouble, of conflict and\ncare; and yet it alone gives to life a meaning and a value, a sure\ndirection and a secure self-consciousness, and by assuring man of a\nspiritual existence of his own makes him certain of the spiritual life\nas a whole. Such a unification of the manifold activities so as to form\na life-work, an incomparable kind of spiritual being, is something\nentirely axiomatic, which is in no way derived from outside. Again, this\nunification does not depend upon particular representations of the\nworld; only the fanaticism of party can bind it to definite doctrines of\nthe human and the divine. It itself, however, is a secure starting-point\nfor the development of convictions; its acknowledgment involves the\nacknowledgment of a spiritual world independent of and operative within\nus, and summoning us to co-operation, even though this implication is\noften concealed from consciousness. Where our own life lacks such a\nfountain-head the conviction of a spiritual life never attains to\naxiomatic certainty, but depends on the thin threads of reasons and\nproofs, and therefore is most easy to overthrow. And so, for the\novercoming of doubt and faintheartedness everything depends upon\nattaining to a unity of activity and creation which inwardly embraces\nlife as a whole, and with this, upon being something, not simply doing\nsomething.\n\nWhat is valid of individuals is valid also of peoples and epochs, of\nhumanity as a whole. Whether a people feels certain of a spiritual life,\nand is thereby elevated to a state of inward joyfulness, depends\nprimarily upon whether it recognises and acknowledges in itself a common\nspiritual task: if this is not the case, the acutest apologetic cannot\nprevent the increase of doubt and faintness of heart. Similarly, the\ndisposition and life-feeling of epochs is decided primarily by whether\ntheir endeavour unites them inwardly or whether it is divided, and at\nthe same time becomes inconsistent. The endeavour of our own time does\nsuffer from such division and inconsistency; it is this in particular\nthat gives the negative tendency so much power over us and in the midst\nof all greatness of achievement in external matters makes us inwardly\ndespondent. Humanity as a whole can attain to a stable spiritual life\nwhich is more than that of the particular times and peoples only by the\nrevelation and appropriation of an all-comprehensive task which governs\nit with inner necessities. Such a task alone makes life a preservation\nof spiritual character; and gives conviction an unshakable firmness, and\na joyous confidence of victory. And so everywhere only the formation of\nlife itself is able to guarantee to it inner stability; the movement\nitself by its elevation above all caprice and its inner unity is alone\nable to overcome the dangers which the transformation of life into\nactivity brings with it.\n\n\n(e) ACTIVISM: A PROFESSION OF FAITH\n\nThe system of life here developed receives its distinctive colour and\ntone chiefly because it brings into prominence the fact that we do not\nbelong to a world of reason, which from the beginning had only to be\nperceived and enjoyed, but that we have first to advance to such a\nworld; and for this we require a revolution of the first condition of\nthings. The basis of true life must continually be won anew; and even\nthe individual achievement always contains a decision between one and\nanother type of life. Only through ceaseless activity can life remain at\nthe height to which it has attained; that which life experiences and\nreceives is judged according to the more precise form of activity. Since\nit gives this precedence to activity, to such activity, this system may\nbe called \"Activism.\" Activism, however, demonstrates its unique\ncharacter and develops its capacity only if it is definitely\ndistinguished from all other apparently related tendencies. Neither a\nsudden resolution nor even a mere incitement of power brings us at once\ninto the condition of activity. For at first we are surrounded and\nembraced by a world of inflexible nature and of feeble spirituality,\nwhich is at the same time mixed with human pretence: this world binds us\nso strongly, and suppresses all independence with such force, that the\nmere individual remains entirely powerless in opposition to it, and\ncould soar to no higher wisdom than that of an involuntary submission to\nit. Activity without release from the given world is an absurdity; but\nsuch release is attainable only through the living presence of a world\nof self-determining activity; the power of such a world alone is able to\narouse the individual to self-determining activity. But how could man\nappropriate this world to himself without changing its life into his\nown; without acknowledging its content as valid for himself also;\nwithout making its laws norms of his conduct?\n\nActivity in this way acquires an ethical character; it is this which\ndraws the boundary line between spiritual activity and merely natural\nimpulse, and distinguishes genuine from imaginary self-determining\nactivity. Ethical relation does not mean a submission to alien and\nunsympathetic regulations, but a taking up of the infinite spiritual\nworld into our own volition and being: this relation brings things close\nto us and reveals them, so that they are able to impart their life to\nus, and we are able to grow with their growth. So understood, ethical\nrelation is primarily not regulative but productive; it is not merely\nbeing prepared to fulfil certain demands, when they are made upon us, to\nlive in accordance with strict regulations, but it involves the motive\nof aiding in the development of the world, of advancing everything good\nand true: it requires an untiring forward endeavour and advance to the\nbuilding up of a kingdom of reason and love. If in this way conduct is\nlifted above the pursuit of that which pleases and interests the mere\nsubject, this is not on behalf of something alien, but for the elevation\nof our own being, for the sake of this genuine being, for the sake of\nour spiritual self.\n\nIt is this inner elevation and this demand for a new world that\ndistinguishes Activism from all mere Voluntarism and Pragmatism, to\nwhich it appears to approximate, and with which, in its negative aspect,\nit is, indeed, associated. For it shares with them the rejection of an\nintellectualistic view of life, in which cognition is regarded as\nfinding truth of its own power and as conveying it to the rest of life.\nFurther, Activism desires, as do Voluntarism and Pragmatism also, the\nbasing of truth upon a more spontaneous and essential activity. But the\nflight to the will is more a reaction against Intellectualism than an\novercoming of the difficulty. As such the will does not yield a new\nworld and a transcendent power; it may, therefore, be that mere volition\nis implicitly transformed into a self-determining activity encompassing\nthe whole extent of life. Pragmatism, also, which has recently made so\nmuch headway among English-speaking peoples and beyond them, is more\ninclined to shape the world and life in accordance with human condition\nand needs than to invest spiritual activity with an independence in\nrelation to these, and apply its standards to the testing and sifting of\nthe whole content of human life. But after the experiences of history\nthe claim to this latter can scarcely be given up. After man has been\nseen to be particular and limited in nature, as things first present\nthemselves, he no longer suffices for the starting-point of the\nendeavour for truth, but to attain to this starting-point an elevation\nabove the human into a universal spiritual life is necessary. And that\nis the intention of Activism.\n\nThe unique character of Activism becomes clearer especially in\ncomparison with organisations of life, of which one indeed makes\nactivity the chief thing, but gives to it the character of a mere\nprocess; while another thinks of the fundamental relation of man to\nreality in general not under the ideas of conduct and progress but under\nthose of contemplation and enjoyment. The idea that life constitutes a\nprocess transcending all human endeavour and decision has shown a strong\npower of attraction in the Modern Age; and, in the system of Hegel\nespecially, has found an imposing embodiment. This idea is asserted most\ndefinitely in the evolutionary conception of history, since it regards\nthe motive power of history as striving to its aim, certain of\naccomplishing it, and unaffected by human opinion and preference. By\nthis deliverance from the insignificance of human motives and the\nvariations of human conditions the object seemed to gain incomparably in\ngreatness; but it was considered that this deliverance from man involved\nan elevation above the ethical conception, which then appeared to be\nsomething subjectively human. But not only does this conception of a\nprocess that ceaselessly advances with compelling necessity contradict\nthe actual state of things as they are found in history, which shows so\nmuch stagnation and retrogression, and so many different spheres of\nculture existing side by side indifferent to one another, but the\ntransformation of life into a mere process, if consistently carried out,\nmust also destroy or seriously debase its spiritual character. If life\nwere a mere process it would be nothing other than a soulless\nmechanism; only in the case of such a mechanism can one phase proceed\nimmediately from the others without at the same time a whole of life\nbecoming active and exercising an animating power within the whole\nprocess. As a fact, the process is usually supplemented in thought by a\nuniversal life unifying, sustaining, and controlling the individual\nphases; however, so far as such a life does not simply come to us, but\nneeds our own activity, the deed comes before the process; and a new\nworld reveals itself to us. The disregard of the ethical element by the\nsystems which make mere process their fundamental idea is explained by\nthe fact that they understand the ethical only as a decision and turning\nof man, accompanying the spiritual life, not as the motive and\nprogressive power of the spiritual life itself. They know only a human\nethic, not an ethic of the spiritual life--as a self-assertion and a\nself-elevation, through which it first attains its complete freedom and\nindependence. Still, to trace this further is the less necessary since\nthis mode of thought lives rather from earlier achievements than works\nfrom fresh impulse springing up in the present.\n\nThe relation of Activism to the \u00e6sthetic mode of thought requires closer\nconsideration; we indicated at the beginning of our investigation that\n\u00c6stheticism forms one of the chief streams of the life of the present\nday; at this point, only its relation to Activism need be examined. This\n\u00c6stheticism has its definite conditions. Where the contemplation and\nenjoyment of the world and its beauty are to constitute the essence of\nlife, we must be assured that the world is a kingdom of reason and\nbeauty, so that the condition in which it is incites us to no\nfar-reaching change. Further, there must be no perplexities in our soul,\nand no deep conflicts within our being, so that this contemplation may\noccupy us completely, and be a source of happiness. Lastly, we must be\nclosely and surely united with the world so that a change of life may be\naccomplished easily and smoothly. If one of these requirements is not\nsatisfied; if, instead of this harmony, the world manifests severe\nconflicts and harsh contradictions; if such exist also within our soul;\nif, lastly, there appears to be a deep gulf between us and the whole,\nthen the \u00e6sthetic solution of the problem of life is an impossibility.\nIf in spite of these contradictions we attempt to entertain this\nsolution, our life will become insincere, and will lose all spiritual\nproductivity, and, as a whole, our life will be spent in subjective\nmood, empty enjoyment, and become feeble. Now, however, the Modern Age\ndevelops in a direction which is directly opposed to the requirements of\nthe \u00e6sthetic form of life. The great world appears to us to be a\nmeaningless machine; and in the struggle for existence the earlier\nharmony is forgotten. We perceive in man far too much that is\ninsignificant and far too much selfishness, emptiness, and mere show for\nus to be able to regard him as being inwardly complete. Lastly, the\nmodern strengthening of the subject and the ceaseless growth of\nreflection have so fundamentally overthrown the immediate relation of\nman to the world that only a far-reaching transformation of life can\nprepare for a reunion. If our life is so full of problems and tasks; if\nwe do not find ourselves in a completed world of reason; but if we must,\nwith all our powers, work toward such a world, we shall turn to Activism\nas the only help possible. But we shall resolutely reject \u00c6stheticism as\na veiling of the real condition of things and a too facile solution of\nthe great problems of life.\n\nActivism does not imply that immediately and at one stroke our life may\nbe transformed into spiritual activity and may quickly establish a\npositive relation to reality: that would be to fail to recognise the\nconditions under which man exists, and the necessity of undergoing\nexperiences and changes. Such an attitude might easily lead to the\nformation of syntheses of life that would be much too hasty and far too\nnarrow; and the necessary breaking up of these would arouse a keen\ndistrust of the whole undertaking. The power which the Romantic movement\nfrom time to time wins over minds is based on the fact that it warns us\nagainst an over-estimation of our activity; that it demands that the\nsoul should be open to the influences of the world; that its\nimpressions should be appropriated without restriction and permitted to\nfade away completely; that in opposition to all the limitation and\norganisation of life, it still longs for the infinite; and that it also\nto some extent satisfies by turning to unrestrained feeling. At the same\ntime, the Romantic movement makes us clearly conscious of the power of\ndestiny, the transcendence of external and internal necessities above\nall human intention and utilitarian conduct. In this way life acquires a\nmuch greater comprehensiveness and freshness; it seems to return to its\nsource, to retain far more immediacy. But it is one thing to acknowledge\nthe importance of this, another to make it the essence of life. When\nsuch precedence is given to this Romantic tendency life threatens to\nbecome delicate, feeble, effeminate; it knows no energetic opposition to\nthe flow of presentations; instead of a definite union it offers\naphoristic thoughts and stimuli; through the lack of logical acuteness\nit falls into the direst contradictions; it sacrifices all distinct form\nand organisation to a revelling in vague moods. As in such a state of\nweakness the spiritual life does not succeed in gaining complete\nindependence in face of the natural conditions of our existence, so it\ndoes not attain the necessary ascendancy over sense. Sense, in its own\nprovince entirely incontestable, raises doubts in us in that it flows\ntogether with the spiritual, is undifferentiated from it, brings it\nunder itself, and turns it from its course. And, in this, sense does not\npossess the na\u00efve freshness and the natural limitation of its original\nstate, but it is over-refined and too full of excitement.\n\nTo recognise all this clearly is at the same time to acknowledge the\nsuperiority of Activism over all mere Romanticism. However much may\nstill be lacking in Activism, through the fact that man often regards\nthe difficult and complicated task as easy and simple, and thus sets too\nlow an estimate upon the distance between himself and the spiritual\nworld, there is still the objective necessity of the requirement to\ntransform our life as far as possible into a state of independence, to\nachieve independence in opposition to a world confused and only half\nrational. Such a self-determining activity is by no means simply a\nmatter of subjective disposition; it requires a particular form of life.\nIn opposition to the desultoriness and change of the life of sense it\nneeds a powerful unification and organisation. It advances to methods\nand laws of the object in contrast to playful caprice; to a logic of the\nobject in opposition to a persistence in contradiction; to a further\nconstruction of the first impression in contrast to comfortable\ncomplacency; to a courageous continuation and building up of life in\nopposition to a complacent acceptance of destiny. It gives to life a\ndramatic character in contrast to a lyrical, sentimental one, and along\nwith this it can acknowledge fully that a genuine drama usually contains\nmuch that is lyrical.\n\nIt is detrimental to Activism itself if it takes the problem of life\nlightly. It is vital that it should not forget or underestimate the fact\nthat the effort to solve the problems of life meets with great\ndifficulties, that the solution costs incalculable trouble and work, and\nthat even when the best is achieved it is only approximate. When\nActivism recognises this fact it may acknowledge a certain validity in\nthe positions of its opponents and may learn from them. But there is a\nharsh contradiction that extends to the innermost basis of life, an\nimplacable \"either--or,\" whether man simply receives the world and\naccompanies it with his own mood, or whether he finds courage and power\nto take up a conflict against confusion and irrationality, to co-operate\nin the building up of a kingdom of reason. For the latter, the\naffirmation of reason in the innermost basis of reality as a whole and\nof his own being is necessary. Whether men and times find a way to such\nan inner establishment, to such transcendence of all external and\ninternal limitation, is that which decides the main tendency of their\nlife.\n\n\n\n\nIII. THE SPIRITUAL LIFE IN MAN IN CONFLICT AND IN VICTORY\n\n\nWe intend to make the following section as short as possible, as we have\ntreated this subject so much in detail in \"The Truth of Religion\" and\nalso in \"The Struggle for a Concrete Spiritual Experience.\" We must\nrefer those who wish for a closer consideration of the subject to those\nworks: the subject will be treated of here only so far as is necessary\nfor a representation of life as a whole; a concise statement may have\ndistinct advantages.\n\n\n(a) DOUBT AND PROSTRATION\n\nIt is a leading idea of our whole investigation, and one which has held\ngood in every branch of it, that for us men spiritual life is evolved\nonly in opposition to a world other than spiritual; that reality does\nnot surround us from the beginning, but forms a high ideal in contrast\nto the customary want of purpose and energy in life. The existence of a\nworld lower than the spiritual, and the late appearance of that which\narises from within as the primary and the all-dominant reality, must\ngive birth to many questions and much doubt; from early times these\nfacts have occupied and much disturbed reflective thought. Man might\nplace the problem on one side without incurring any risk, if the\nspiritual life when it comes to the fore assumes the guidance of life\nand manifests itself as world-transcendent power--externally, in that it\nsubordinates to itself and takes up into itself everything else;\ninternally, in that with certain progress it presses forward in the\nhuman province, wins the whole soul of man, and becomes more and more\nhis only world. In particular, where the spiritual life is regarded, as\nwe regard it, as the self-consciousness of reality; where, therefore,\nthat which apparently stands in opposition to the spiritual life must\nultimately have its basis within it, the demands of the spiritual life\nhave a coercive power. And so when experiences a thousandfold, new and\nold, present a picture which contradicts these demands we must feel the\nstate of things to be a particularly painful one.\n\nThat, however, is what really happens: it is the case in the relation of\nthe spiritual life to nature, as well as in its relation to humanity; it\nhappens, therefore, in our whole experience. If the spiritual life\nconstitutes the fundamental nature of reality; if, in it, reality first\nattains to self-consciousness, it is to be expected that when the\nspiritual life appeared it would create for itself an independent form\nof existence in contrast to that of nature, and would exercise a\nsuperior power in this form of existence, to which nature must\naccommodate itself. But, as a fact, this is so far from being the case\nthat even the attempt to imagine the spiritual in any way leads\nimmediately to the quixotic. In the experience of humanity the spiritual\nlife is related in its entirety to a natural basis; in no way does it\nseem able to free itself from this, but in all its activity it remains\ndependent upon nature. If nature simply follows its own tendencies; if,\nindifferent to value and lack of value, without aim and ideal, nature\nlives its life of soulless movement, union with an order so alien and\nimpenetrable must most seriously affect the spiritual life. The world\ngoes on its course unconcerned with the weal or the woe, the persistence\nor the disappearance of spiritual being, of spiritual relations, indeed\nof spiritual life in general. Not only do great catastrophes, as in\nearthquakes, storms, and floods, show how indifferent the existence or\nthe non-existence of spiritual life is to the forces of nature, but the\ncommonplaces of everyday experience and of individual destiny also show\nthe same indifference. In nature we find no difference of treatment in\naccordance with any distinction of good and evil, great and mean, noble\nand vulgar. Even the most eminent personality, who may be almost\nindispensable to our spiritual welfare, is subject to the same\ncontingency, the same fate as all others. Regarded from the point of\nview of the world of sense, all spiritual life is a chaotic confusion of\nfleeting appearances, all of which are dependent; it is not an\nindependent world, but a subsidiary addition to a world which is other\nthan spiritual.\n\nExperience of the impotence of the spiritual life in relation to nature\nhas been the cause of mental disquiet from early times. But this\nexperience was not necessarily oppressive so long as mankind was called\nupon to transform nature into a realm of reason, and so long as there\nwas hope of accomplishing this. For the contrast with the cold and rigid\nexternal world has deepened the inwardness of human relationship and\nmade us conscious of the dignity and greatness of spiritual creation. In\nculture, humanity has formed a characteristic sphere of life, and in\ndoing this has aided the spiritual life to attain a certain reality. In\nculture, spiritual factors and values win power; and a new order of life\nin contrast to that of nature is evolved. It cannot be doubted that a\nnew reality makes its appearance; but it is an open question whether\nthis new reality fulfils the hopes which have been placed upon it; and,\nfurther, whether perplexities and confusions, which make it doubtful\nwhether anything has been gained, do not arise out of its further\ndevelopment. This question is certainly not answered lightly in the\naffirmative by the conviction that regards the spiritual life as a\nturning of reality towards its own truth, which therefore in its\ndevelopment must insist primarily on complete spontaneity and\nindependence. For, if in culture the spiritual life attains an\nindependence over against nature, it is at the same time drawn so deeply\ninto the particularity and limitation of human life, and is associated\nso much with the merely human, that culture as a whole is anything but\nthe unfolding of a realm of pure, or even of only preponderating,\nspirituality.\n\nIn the first place, the spiritual life does not introduce a definite and\nfixed content into our experience, and it does not follow paths\nindependent of human striving and error; but arises through hard toil\nand only slowly finds any unity: in its further endeavour it by no means\nfollows the same tendency, but effects great changes, indeed\nrevolutions, into states the exact opposite of its previous states. When\nit is so uncertain as to its own aim the spiritual life becomes\nseriously involved in the seeking and vacillation, in the needs and\npassions, of man: instead of giving to man an immovable support and\npointing out a definite aim for his activity, it seems itself unable to\npass beyond a state of uncertain groping and error.\n\nCorresponding to this uncertainty as to its content, there is a want of\npower on the part of the spiritual life within man. Instead of\ncontrolling the conduct of man directly, the spiritual life generally\ndetermines it through that which it contributes towards the attainment\nof his aims. If this is so in the case of the individual, it is even\nmore so in the case of social life, for in it spiritual activity is\nregarded chiefly as a means to obtain advantages over others, and to\nadvance socially. And so that of which it is the nature to be an end\ncomplete in itself is treated as a means to other ends; it is not itself\nactive, and its own power is not a motive force; but even for its own\nmaintenance it needs the help and support of things alien to itself: the\nartificial mechanism of social organisation must bring forth toilsomely\nthat which, unless it flows immediately from its source, cannot be fresh\nor genuine. Such a state of human affairs remains far below the aims of\nthe spiritual life; it produces insincerity, a luxuriant growth of\nhypocrisy and pretence. For all striving for the true and the good\ninvolves the assertion that the object is desired for its own sake: if\nthe object really serves the aims of mere man, there inevitably\noriginates a wide divergence between what is willed and what is alleged\nto be willed. In respect of this, one cannot, with the moralists, lay\nthe blame simply on the will. For, in man, spiritual impulse in general\nis insignificant; without the compulsion of the social environment it\nwould hardly prevail at all against nature. This social compulsion,\ntherefore, notwithstanding its defects, cannot be dispensed with;\nhowever clearly we may see its inadequacy, we cannot renounce it\naltogether. Society cannot exert such coercive power without presenting\nitself as the champion of pure reason; without desiring an infallibility\nfor its decisions. This attitude naturally arouses the opposition of\nindividuals and a keen struggle ensues, but as one side may be right the\ncondition of the spiritual life is not much improved by the struggle.\n\nThe state of life, uncertain of its aims and inadequate in its means, is\nrather a paltry substitute for a realm of reason than such a realm\nitself. A noisy and self-conscious agitation, much unrest and\nexcitement, but little substance and soul; a ceaseless anxiety\nconcerning the means of life and hurried pursuit of them, and in the\noccupation with the means forgetfulness and neglect of life itself; much\nself-glorification and ostentation, and little reverence for the\nspiritual life--such is social life in general. Where the vanity,\nemptiness, and falsehood of the social machinery have come to be clearly\nperceived, man has become absolutely wearied and satiated, and has often\nfled from society to nature, to seek therein simple truth and enduring\npeace. But he could believe it possible to find such in nature only\nbecause he read this truth and peace into it from himself; as,\nnevertheless, he must ultimately return to those of the same nature as\nhimself: thus he remains in a state of vacillation between nature, which\nis indifferent to the spiritual life, and humanity, which corrupts the\nspiritual life by drawing it down to the level of the narrowly human. If\nthe spiritual life nowhere attains to pure unfolding and certain effect\nwithin our experience, how can the spiritual life be accepted by us in\nthis experience as the essence of reality? In the midst of such doubt,\nthe original suspicions, which may have receded before the hope of the\nemergence of a new world, also become felt again--the insignificance of\nthe external manifestation of the spiritual life in contrast with the\nimmeasurableness of nature; the late appearance of the spiritual life in\nthe world-process, and its probable disappearance as a result of the\nexpected changes in the conditions of nature. Does not everything tend\nto give us the impression that the spiritual life signifies no more than\nan episode in the world-process; an episode which passes fleetingly, and\ndoes not affect the fundamental nature of reality at all? The necessity\nof such a conclusion remains concealed so long as man, in an undeveloped\nstate of life, is able to fill the world with forms similar to himself,\nand to understand the control of nature on an analogy with human\nconduct. But the progress of culture and especially the growth of\nscientific knowledge have, with irresistible power, taken us beyond that\nstate; have led us from dream and illusion to a state of complete\nalertness. Has not all independence of the spiritual life become\ndoubtful with this progress of culture and scientific knowledge, and\nmust we not give up all claim to subject our existence to its\nsovereignty, and to determine our life and effort spiritually? For there\ncannot be any doubt that, with the spiritual life, the characteristic\norganisation of our existence also falls. It may be that we have thought\nsuperficially and confusedly enough to declare something to be in itself\nfalsehood and deceit, and at the same time to give to it the guidance of\nour life.\n\n\n(b) CONSIDERATION AND DEMAND\n\nThe previous train of thought may appear to be a plain and\nstraightforward negation, a complete renunciation of the spiritual life\nas the most adequate solution of our problem. But that train of thought\nis itself the result of a superficial treatment; every deeper\nconsideration inevitably contradicts such a summary procedure. A\ncontradiction of that train of thought is found especially in the fact\nwhich governs the whole course of our investigation, that with the\ntransition to the spiritual life there appear essentially new magnitudes\nand values, new forms and contents of life, which advance beyond not\nonly the nature but also the capacity of mere man. Whence all these, if\nspiritual life is only delusion? The new in us may be never so\npowerless; still, the fact that it emerges in our world of thought and\nhovers before us as a possibility proves that it has a certain reality\nalso within us.\n\nFurther, is the spiritual life, ultimately, in every sense so powerless\nas it at first appears? That it does not pass by as a phantom among our\npresentations is shown by the fact that we do not simply receive the\nexisting condition of things, and its degrading oppression of the\nspiritual life, but we feel it to be a cause of harm and of pain to us.\nCould we experience this if we belonged entirely to that condition of\nthings; and is not Hegel right when he says that he who feels a\nlimitation is already in some way above it? We feel the insufficiency,\nthe feebleness, the threadbareness of all human morality; could we feel\nthis if we did not experience a longing for a more genuine morality? And\nwhence arises this longing in opposition to an entirely different world,\nif not from a spirituality implanted within our own being? We perceive\nthe limitations in our knowledge; a growing insight into all its\nconditions and oppositions may lead us in this matter almost to complete\nscepticism: but whence came the desire for an inner elucidation of\nreality; and how did even the idea of it originate, if we belong\nentirely to the darkness of a nature that is less than spiritual, and if\nthere is no fight at all within us? We feel that the rapid flow of time,\nits change and course, its sudden revolutions sometimes even into the\ncomplete opposite of the previous state, is a defect, a source of\nserious danger to truth: could we feel this to be so if our whole being\nwere centred in the passing moment; if we did not survey and compare the\ndifferent times; if our being did not participate in something\nsuper-temporal? And lastly, if the feeling that culture is inadequate\nand indeed nothing but a pretence is so strong and so painful, then here\nagain we set ourselves in a position independent of the condition of\nthings, and judge that condition by a transcendent standard which only\nour own being can supply. If all these aims were only invented by man\nand applied to life in an external manner, failure to realise them could\nnot agitate us as it does.\n\nBesides, the matter is not by any means at an end with the feeling of\nthe inadequacy of our position; a movement in opposition to this\ncondition is also not lacking. For, as has been seen throughout our\nwhole treatment, spiritual operation, creative activity is to be found\nwithin human experience. It meets us with especial clearness at the\nheights of the work of history; but these also belong to humanity as a\nwhole, and the light kindled there is not entirely lost in the mist of\nthe commonplace circumstances of every day. In relation with these\nheights of endeavour there is, in humanity as a whole, a movement in\nopposition to the tendency of mediocre culture to fill life entirely; a\nlonging for a more spontaneous, a purer, and a more genuine life. Our\nown power of creation may be dormant; only the advent of a strong\nsuggestion, or a serious convulsion, is necessary and it breaks forth\nforcefully, and shows distinctly that there is more spirituality in man\nthan the circumstances of every day allow us to perceive. The spiritual\nmovement manifests itself also in private life and in the relation of\nindividual to individual. He who does not measure spiritual greatness by\nphysical standards will often find more genuine greatness in the\nsimplicity of these relations than in the famous deeds of history; and\nat the same time he will find that through these relations an effective\npresence of the spiritual life within human experience is strengthened.\n\nIf in its opposition to human perversion of it genuine spiritual life\ndoes not always reach a definite positive result, the operation of that\nlife as the law and the judge of human things is all the more distinct.\nMan may try to withdraw himself from the spiritual life; he may reject\nand mock at that which the age presents to him as an aim; he may seek to\nfill his life completely with human interests and inclinations: but he\ncannot do this without degenerating into a state of destitution, which\neven he himself soon finds to be intolerable, and without being forced,\nwith the compulsion of necessity, to surrender much which it is\nimpossible for him to surrender. The catastrophes of history in which\nthat which has been found insignificant sinks, and that which carries a\nspiritual necessity within it rises, careless, as it seems, of the weal\nor the woe of man, show in letters of brass that the spiritual life may\nnot be modified by man at his pleasure, in this way or that, in\naccordance with his circumstances and his mood.\n\nWhen we consider all the facts together, we do not get the impression\nthat the spiritual life is simply a fleeting illusion that may easily be\nbanished; but rather, that there are serious complications, out of which\nwe cannot find our way; and that something occurs within us, something\nis begun within us, that is unaffected by mood and caprice, and that\nshows us to be in relations much more comprehensive, though obscure in\nthe highest degree. In particular, for a treatment that starts out from\nthe life-process, and sees the spiritual movement chiefly in strivings,\ncollisions, and even in failures, there can be no doubt concerning the\nactuality of this movement, the emergence of a new life, and thus of a\nnew stage of reality in man.\n\nWhen we recognise the actuality of the spiritual movement the relation\nof the spiritual life to nature and to the world is also to be regarded\ndifferently from the manner in which the negative mode of thought\nrepresents it. It is now impossible, as it often happens, more\nparticularly among philosophising natural scientists, to consider the\nrepresentation of nature as a complete representation of reality, and to\nleave the spiritual life out of attention as something supplementary and\nsubsidiary. The spiritual life is now itself acknowledged to be a\nreality, and must help to determine the representation of reality as a\nwhole. Nature must be more than a soulless machine if its evolution is\nto lead, as it does, to the point where a self-conscious life emerges.\nWithin our own experience points of transition are not lacking where\nnature produces something that becomes elevated to the spiritual, and\nfurthers the spiritual life. The difference of the sexes, for example,\nis primarily a matter of natural organisation, and what a rich source of\nspiritual animation it is! Nothing manifests the union between nature\nand the spiritual life more convincingly than the beautiful, when, in\naccordance with the result of our investigation, it is regarded as a\ncharacteristic unfolding of the spiritual life, and not as something\nwhich merely fascinates man and is a source of pleasure to him. For how\ncould the external receive a characteristic soul by being taken up into\nthe inner life; how could the inward need an external form for its\nperfection if the two realms were not united, if a comprehensive reality\ndid not transcend the antithesis?\n\nLastly, it should not be forgotten that it is modern science, especially\nin its latest phases, with its destruction of the supposed self-evidence\nof the sense impression of nature, that has placed the relation of\nnature to the spiritual life in a more favourable light than it was\nplaced by the dogmatic mechanistic theory, which in earlier times seemed\nto be the ultimate solution of the problem of their relation. Nature has\nagain become far more of a problem to us, and we recognise that our\nconception of it is a work of the spirit. The old facts of the\nconnection and interaction of phenomena, of the conformity to law on the\npart of occurrences, of the developments of form, and of a progress to\neven more artistic complexes and ever finer organisation, once more make\nus feel, and far more keenly than before, that they involve difficult\nproblems. It is more clearly evident to us than it was formerly that\nevery attempt to make these facts intelligible is made by the spiritual\nlife and by analogy with the spiritual life. If in such analogy we do\nnot go beyond symbols, yet the symbols themselves betray a depth and a\nsecret of reality. At the present time when scientific work is at its\nhighest stage of development, the shallowness and the rashness of a\nradical negation are distinctly recognised.\n\nIt is true that for the particular life-problem that we are considering\nwe have not yet gained much from this recognition; to perceive the\nimpossibility of an absolute negation does not in itself imply the\nvictory of a joyful affirmation. For all the perplexities that\npreviously occupied us still remain, as do the limitation and the\ncurtailment of the spiritual life which proceeded from these\nperplexities; the whole movement also remains in its state of\nstagnation. As certainly as on the one hand there is too much of the\nspiritual life presented to us to allow of negation, so on the other it\nis by no means sufficient for the removal of all doubt.\n\nMere research can tolerate a state of hesitation between affirmation and\nnegation; it must often refrain from a decision in the case of special\nproblems. Life, however, cannot endure any such intermediary position;\nfor life, such hesitation in arriving at a decision must result in\ncomplete stagnation, and this would help the negation to victory. If\nlife is faced with an \"either--or\" the affirmation has a prospect of\nvictory only if the situation previously described may be in some way\ntransformed in its favour. This cannot come to pass unless the spiritual\nmovement can transcend the limitations which appear in human life, and\nunless a further development can proceed out of the limitations\nthemselves. Only such an advance can help the endangered affirmation to\nvictory. But whether the spiritual movement does transcend these\nlimitations, not a logical consideration of concepts but only the\nexperience of life will decide; let us enquire therefore whether life\noffers what we seek.\n\n\n(c) THE VICTORY\n\nThe questions that are given rise to in the consideration of human life\nas it is are answered in the affirmative with joyful certainty by the\nreligions. The religions do this in that they announce to man the help\nof a transcendent order; an appearance of divine power and goodness in\nthe domain of man. But after the far-reaching changes of life and of\nconviction that we have experienced, can this confidence still be\njustified? And have we a place for this assertion of help from a\ntranscendent order when we acknowledge the reality of the independent\nspiritual life?\n\nEverything of a religious character and even that which is related to it\nmeets, at least upon the surface, in the present the keenest opposition.\nThis opposition is aroused in the first place by anthropomorphism--the\nindulgence in merely human representations and desires--which is often\nfound associated with religion. If the essence of religion were\ninseparable from such anthropomorphism, the dissolution and submergence\nof religion could hardly be prevented. But according to the witness of\nhistory, an energetic conflict against all such mere anthropomorphism\nhas been carried on within religion itself and, in its highest stages of\ndevelopment, religion has demanded a complete surrender of everything\nnarrowly human: anthropomorphism and religion are, therefore, not\nabsolutely identical. Our investigation, emphasising as it does the\nradical distinction between the substance of the spiritual life and its\nappropriation by man, counselled us to be cautious in reference to this\nmatter, and warned us against a hasty rejection of religion.\n\nThe essence of religion is still less affected by the charge that modern\nnatural science in conceiving of the spatial world as infinite leaves no\nroom for a visible heaven. For, to take such a criticism seriously, we\nmust not only think of religion as at a primitive stage which, in the\ndevelopment of its spiritual content, it has overstepped, but we must\nalso completely ignore the fundamental revolution that modern philosophy\nand the whole tendency of modern thought have accomplished in the\nrepresentation of the visible world. Modern thought has destroyed the\nself-evidence that the na\u00efve man attributed to that representation, by\nthe experience and the proof that the visible world around us does not\ncome to us completely as we represent it, but that we form the\nrepresentation from our point of view, and under the conditions of our\nspiritual nature. Our own activity is embodied in the representation;\nand it will depend upon the value of this activity how far the\nrepresentation may be accepted as reality as a whole and the ultimate\nand absolute world. Now, as in the visible world the spiritual life is\nalways bound up with something alien and which cannot be completely\ntransformed by the activity of that life, so every assertion of an\nindependent spiritual life is a protest against the view that the world\nof sense is the only world. But in that, unless the spiritual life is\nindependent, there is neither science nor culture, the priority of a\nworld other than that of sense cannot be in any way a matter of doubt to\nphilosophy.\n\nBut a world other than the world of sense is by no means the\ntranscendent world of religion; such a world as the latter could be\nreached only by a continuation of the life-process beyond the position\nyet attained; the course of our investigation, however, has left no\nuncertainty concerning the direction in which such a world is to be\nsought. We saw that the spiritual life could not acquire an independence\nwithout becoming a universal life: only the immediate presence of this\nuniversal life at the individual point arouses and preserves a spiritual\nlife in it. In spite of this immediate presence of the whole, the life\nof man receives its more detailed organisation and development from his\nrelation to the environment and in the building up of a world; the unity\nthat exists in the whole reveals itself at first only in relation to the\nmultiplicity. There is, therefore, still the possibility that a new and\ncharacteristic life should evolve out of an exclusive relation to the\nwhole; such a life, in contrast to that building up of a world, would\nbear a world-transcendent character. This possibility constitutes the\nonly way of advancing beyond the position hitherto reached.\n\nNow, however much work in the world forms the main part of our life and\nasserts itself to be such, yet, as a fact, our life is not taken up\nentirely by such work. In the striving of humanity and in the soul of\nthe individual there is a movement towards a world-transcendent life, a\nlife that first attains to a complete inwardness when it becomes\nworld-transcendent. Only such an inwardness offers a firm support, a\nspirituality unperverted by the perplexities of the world; but this is\nnot possible otherwise than by man's gaining participation in a\nworld-transcendent spiritual life which is purely and absolutely\nself-conscious: this life must become man's own life, and spirituality\nin this way self-consciously advance towards divinity. This makes it for\nthe first time intelligible how life, even when it suffers complete\nfailure in its work in the world, even when the activity exerted upon\nthe world is completely frustrated, by no means degenerates into a state\nof destitution and ruin. For a new task is now revealed to man in his\nown attitude to the spiritual life as a whole, a relation which may in\ndifferent cases be very different in character, and he may find in the\nsolution of the task incalculable difficulties. Here activity also\nchanges its character, since without any external manifestation it can\nbecome complete and purely inward: character can free itself of\neverything passive and become fully active; from being a mere\naccompaniment it can become an active whole. All this, however, is\npossible only if life is directed toward a world-transcendent\nspirituality and only by the power of such a spirituality.\n\nAs this new kind of life does not make its appearance suddenly, but is\nprepared by the whole evolution of spiritual life, which we have\npreviously considered, so its main individual tendencies are also\nrelated to this evolution. Essential qualities of the spiritual life are\nmanifested in work in the world, but in this they do not come to pure\nformation and victorious establishment: only the elevation to the\nworld-transcendent self-consciousness makes possible that with which the\nspiritual life as a whole cannot well dispense, indeed in which it has\nits essential nature. The striving itself, and its arousing and motive\npower, could not be explained if the end were not operative within our\nlife: \"Thou wouldst not seek me, if thou hadst not already found me\"\n(Pascal).\n\nThe spiritual life in man could have no hope of acquiring truth if it\nwere not rooted in a life which transcends all error and which in some\nway imparts to us this transcendence. If the spiritual life in man did\nnot know of certain truth sustained at one innermost point, a truth that\nexerts a directing power on all human undertaking, and prevents it from\nbecoming fixed in error, man would lose all confidence in truth in face\nof the obscurities and errors of life as they are shown by the work of\nculture. Further, for the maintenance of the spiritual life, the\npreservation of spontaneity, a possibility of overcoming all restriction\nby nature and of defying destiny is absolutely necessary. But in work in\nthe world this spontaneity is subject to the most severe limitations;\nthe power of fate surrounds man on all sides: in the natural course of\nthings even his own work becomes a rigid destiny to him, and chains him\nwith inexorable necessity. As in the case of the individual, so also in\nthat of humanity as a whole, life is a gradual narrowing, an ever\nfurther exclusion of original possibilities; and this tendency is\ncontinually felt as an increasing oppression in its opposition to the\nfreedom of the will and an independent present. How may the spiritual\nlife be prevented from growing feeble and senile, if new pure beginnings\ncannot be produced from a fundamental relation transcending the relation\nwith the world, if from this fundamental relation a spontaneous life\ncannot spring up ever anew? The fact that humanity is able not only to\ntransform the nature of culture in its particular aspects, but also to\nfall into error concerning culture as a whole, without surrendering\nitself, is an indication that the life of humanity is not exhausted in\nwork in the world. The spiritual life must unite in an inner community\nall who participate in it; and this is impossible unless the spiritual\nlife leads man to a point where all walls of partition and all\ndifferences fall away. But spiritual work increases rather than\ndiminishes these differences; with culture the differentiation of men\nalso grows. We must sink ever deeper in such differentiation; lose more\nand more the possibility of a mutual understanding, of a life and\nfeeling with one another and for one another, if this movement toward\ndifferentiation does not come into contact with a transcendent power\nthat counteracts it, if some power does not unite us inwardly. What\nother power could this be than the spiritual life itself, and how could\nit effect this result otherwise than in the revelation of a\nworld-transcendent self-conscious life which thus presents itself as an\nAbsolute? For, then a removal of differences in negative and in positive\nmatters becomes possible: in negative matters so far as all achievements\nin the human sphere, however distant they may be from one another,\nappear equally inadequate when they are judged by the standard of an\nabsolute life: in positive matters so far as the absolute life produces\nsomething at each point transcending all complexity, by which the\nmovement is freed from its restrictions and resumes its flow, and by the\nimparting of which to man in the innermost depth of his being, reveals a\nnew life in which all may in like manner participate. The possibility of\na finally valid affirmation of life is first attained when this\nworld-transcendent self-conscious life is acknowledged. Without turning\nto the absolute life, life could not withdraw from its perplexities;\nsuffering and guilt would crush man. With this turning, however, he\nacquires, not in his merely human nature, but so far as he is taken up\ninto the absolute life, part in the perfection, infinity, and eternity\nof that life: in the midst of all change and becoming something\nimmovable is disclosed to him; in the midst of all dependence upon the\nworld, a sure world-transcendence; in the midst of all darkness and\nsuffering, a state of incalculable bliss. From the ultimate depths the\nYes triumphs over the No, which, at the first glance, seems so easily\nits superior.\n\nThis transition derives a power to convince primarily from the union of\nthe individual tendencies so as to form a vital whole of\nworld-transcendent inwardness. Such a whole, thoroughly characteristic\nin its nature, is never a work of mere man, a product of critical\nreflection; it can proceed only from the spiritual life itself. Looked\nat from the point of view of that life this whole cannot be regarded as\nsomething later and as something supplementary; but it will be seen that\nthat which for us first attains complete clearness through suffering and\nconvulsion must be effective from the beginning, and already exist in\nthe work upon the world. If, however, it becomes our possession only\nwhen it takes precedence, then the whole prospect of reality must be\naltered and deepened, and for us life will be divided into the stages of\nthe establishing, struggling, triumphing of spirituality.\n\nIt is this fact of transcendent spirituality that the religions take up\nand develop, and seek to bring near to humanity. The doctrines they\ncontain are ultimately only the framework or the outward manifestation\nof that world-transcendent inwardness; they desire to realise its power\nof deliverance and elevation completely. They themselves have their\nsupport and justification in this transcendent spiritual life, and the\nprecedence of one to the others will be judged by the degree to which in\naffirmation and negation they develop this spiritual life in its\nworld-transcending sovereignty and in its world-penetrating power. From\nthe point of view of that life, religion as a whole must maintain its\ntruth and its indispensable nature: where that life is lacking, religion\nis simply a delusion, a folly the absurdity of which is hardly\nconceivable; but where it is developed religion must pass current as\nthat which, of all things, is the most certain, as the fundamental axiom\nof the whole spiritual life. Between this \"either--or\" there is no\nmiddle course; historical experience shows that religion has been to\nmen and ages either the most certain of all things or the one about\nwhich there has been most dispute.\n\nWe can now return to the question that led us to this discussion, to the\nquestion of the rationality of our reality. To be sure, even after the\nfurther revelation of the spiritual life, the answer is not so easy as\nthe adherents of religion often think. For they often believe that with\nthe acknowledgment of a world-transcendent spirituality, its triumphant\nmanifestation within our world is immediately assured; and with this\nconviction they attempt to present this world as a kingdom of justice,\neven if not of love. But all endeavour, however energetic, and all\nrecourse to subtlety of thought, yield no satisfactory conclusion: at\nmost, the possibility is reached that that which seems irrational may\nacquire some rationality in more comprehensive relations; but even if\nthat is so, we are not free from irrationality; and those mere\npossibilities are far from being equal to counteracting the strong\nimpression of the reality of evil. Even religion, which would bring\nabout a transition to the better, is itself deeply involved in this\nirrationality; a painful martyrdom has often been imposed upon its\nheroes, and its form has continually degenerated in the course of\nhistory through the influence of human error and passion. Since in the\nlatter the restriction is presented as an opposition to the divine, the\nview of the world as it immediately appears is darkened rather than\nilluminated.\n\nNevertheless, through the revelation that the world has a deeper basis,\nthe perplexity concerning life and reality is essentially changed. Evil\nis not removed; the external view of things is not altered; the good is\nperhaps strengthened, and, indeed, life in its innermost depth withdrawn\nfrom all power of perplexity and led to a new stage. So far, the\nirrationality may appear in another light from this point of view, as\nhence the conflicts and the convulsions may themselves be factors which\nhelp life to realise its own ideal and to establish it in the new world.\nIn history, suffering has been regarded as absolutely irrational, and\nhas been unconditionally rejected only where man has been regarded as\nessentially complete. But if an immense problem is recognised in\nsuffering, then suffering also, by rousing us to activity and by making\nus less inflexible, may acquire a positive value and be of service in\nthe development of being. This, however, does not give us a theodicy; it\njustifies neither philosophy nor religion in trying to act as advocate\nfor the Deity. To us evil is an insoluble riddle: no formula can make it\nintelligible why a powerful and clear reason is implanted in our world\nand that at the same time the lower most obstinately asserts itself in\nopposition, treats it as a matter of indifference, offers an\ninsurmountable resistance to it.\n\nThus we can hardly reach a decision in regard to our last conviction by\nway of intellectual consideration; rather, in the decision concerning\nthe \"either--or\" which is the question here, our whole being is\ninvolved. On the one side there is the external impression of the world,\nthe weakness of the good, its perversion into evil, the apparent\nindifference of the world-process towards the aims of the spirit, the\napparent futility of all that would advance beyond nature. Can anything\nthat is aroused within our inner being, and with so much toil finds any\nform, arise in opposition to this immeasurable world? This will be\npossible only when a movement of the world itself, and not a mere\nproduct of man, is recognised in that which is aroused within man: for\nonly then will its extension be a matter of complete indifference, and,\nhowever mean an extension it shows in the human sphere, a turning of the\nwhole would be proved, a revolution of the whole accomplished. Then that\nwhich for us emerges on the edge of our life must nevertheless be\nregarded as the sustaining basis and the controlling power of reality as\na whole. Our whole investigation has championed the view that the\nturning to the spiritual life implies a movement of the world: wherever\nthe independence of the spiritual life is acknowledged the supremacy of\nreason cannot be doubted.\n\nBut it is one thing to acknowledge such a thesis to be necessary,\nanother to give it the power to convince and impress, without which it\ndoes not leave the realm of phantoms, and does not become a living\npower. This is possible only where the spiritual life is taken up as our\nown life, and developed as our own life; where, therefore, its\nvindication attains to the overwhelming power and the axiomatic\ncertainty of self-preservation. The centre of reality will be changed\nfor us only if we change the centre of our own life, and find true\nimmediacy no longer in sense impression, but in self-determining\nactivity.\n\nThe acknowledgment of a self-conscious inwardness, of a\nworld-transcendent spirituality, together with the recognition of\nanother kind of world, full of oppositions, must give a characteristic\nform to our conception of our reality. Here, a rational solution of the\nworld-problem is for ever excluded, and the world present to man must be\naccepted as a particular kind of reality, which cannot be regarded as\nthe only and ultimate one. From this point of view the whole life of\nhumanity must appear to be a mere link in a great chain; an act of a\ndrama, the course of which we are unable to survey; the fundamental idea\nof which, however, glimmers through sufficiently clearly to point out a\ndirection to our life.\n\nThrough the emergence of a world-transcendent inwardness there appear\ncharacteristic tasks and complications, also for the more detailed\ndevelopment of our life. Unqualified esteem for that inwardness has\noften led religions to demand that life should be placed solely and\nentirely in that transcendent sphere, in the realm of faith and of\ndisposition, and to free life as far as possible from the work of the\nworld; the former life seemed to excel the latter as the divine the\nhuman. But this comparison does not hold good; for the divine is to us\nnot only a world-transcendent sovereignty but also a world-pervading\npower: to honour the former preponderatingly may be the only salvation\nfor times and individuals in a state of prostration and collapse, and in\nthis way life would be given a preponderatingly religious character; but\nthis form of life can never be accepted as the normal one and the one\nalone worth striving for. For one thing, that transcendent world, as far\nas its contents and tasks are concerned, is presented to us only in\noutline; all its more detailed nature must result from the world of our\nactivity, and must retain a symbolic character. If the connection of the\nspiritual world with the empirical world is broken it falls into the\ndanger of becoming destitute; so that religion may come to be simply a\nrevelling in feeling; or a devotion, indifferent to all content and\nwhich, therefore, judged by spiritual standards, is worthless. It is by\nhard work alone, in relation to men and things, that our life acquires a\nspiritual character. Religion does, indeed, elevate life above work, and\ngive to life its full depth. Still, movement and differentiation must be\nincluded within a vital whole; and the relation to activity which is the\nchief factor in life cannot be given up even at its greatest depth. The\nhigh estimate of spirituality may not rightly lead to a mean estimate of\nnature, to a conflict with nature such as has been the case in the realm\nof religion in the tendency to asceticism. For as certainly as our\nacknowledgment of an independent spirituality involves a subordination\nof nature, this subordination does not imply a mean estimate, still less\na rejection. Asceticism which appears to be the attainment of a high\nlevel of spiritual life soon leads to an inward degeneration. For in\nasceticism the chief task is not the powerful development and courageous\nadvance of spirituality, but simply a negation and suppression of sense.\nReflection and thought will thus be centred upon just those things\nbeyond which the spiritual movement wishes to lead. Particular temporary\ncircumstances may make the tendency to asceticism comprehensible; such\ntimes were over-refined and diseased, and the diseased may not rightly\ngive to life its rule.\n\nBut if, in this way, we oppose a specifically religious or ascetic form\nof life we are not prevented from acknowledging the strong and fruitful\ninfluence of a world of transcendent inwardness upon life as a whole.\nFor its perfect health and breadth, our life needs two tendencies which,\nthough they directly contradict each other, must, nevertheless, within\nus be complementary to each other: it needs an energetic conflict\nagainst all that is irrational, and at the same time to be elevated into\na sphere in which everything is rational, into a realm of peace and\nperfection. Within the spiritual life itself, tasks are given their form\nand are estimated on the one hand from the human point of view, and on\nthe other from an ultimate, one might say an absolute, view of things.\nThe significance of this distinction is to be seen most clearly in\nhistory, and, perhaps, in the contrast between the Greek and the\nChristian character. The former places man in the midst of the world,\nand requires him energetically to take up the struggle for the cause of\nrationality and decisively to reject the irrational. Suffering and pain\nwere to be avoided; man was never to submit to them. Courage appeared to\nbe the chief quality of this form of life, and in relation to others\njustice was its determining idea. But if this idea demands that each\nshould receive according to his achievement, then the higher and the\nlower, the noble and the common, must be distinctly separated and never\nallowed to be confused. That the noble form a small minority, and that\nhistory hardly promises any change in this matter, is a fact that has\nnot escaped perception; and the permanence of the antithesis of an\nesoteric and an exoteric form, therefore, appears to be inevitable. The\ndifference that exists is regarded as due primarily to nature, not to\nfree decision. To make nature completely active, and to unify that which\nit offers in a scattered and an unsystematic manner, appears to be our\nwhole life-work.\n\nThe result, therefore, is a powerful, active, self-conscious life, which\nnot only affects us by its results but to which we must assign a\npermanent significance. But as the only and exclusive form of life, it\ninvolves great restrictions and rigour; its limitations may remain\nhidden in days of joyful creative activity and in the highest circles of\nsociety, but they must be keenly felt if life falls into a condition of\nstagnation, and man, as man, asks questions with regard to the\nhappiness of life. This destiny may then become an intolerable\ncompulsion; mere courage, an over-exertion of human power; mere justice,\nseverity and unmercifulness; the sharp distinction between men, an\nactual separation, which tends on the one side to proud haughtiness and\non the other to doubt and depression. A keen perception of such\nlimitations and dangers must necessarily force life into new paths.\n\nThe counter movement has won the victory in Christianity, which makes\nnot work in the world but the relation to a world-transcendent spiritual\nlife the chief thing. Man does not in the first place trust a nature\nthat safely leads him but at the same time limits him; but his nature\nseems full of problems, and to need a complete transformation, which\nonly a miracle of grace can accomplish. Men are not regarded as being\nseparated by fixed differences, but in comparison with the divine\nperfection all differences vanish, and from the relation to God the\nfeeling of equality and brotherhood is evolved. Thought of in relation\nto the requirement of a pure inwardness of the whole being, differences\nin achievement are totally insignificant: justice gives place to an\ninfinite love that dispels all harshness, makes all differences\nconsistent and harmonious, and tolerates no feeling of hostility.\n\nThe antithesis of a nature which is operative within the world and which\nelevates above the world must permeate life as a whole and must give\nrise to opposite tendencies in every part of life. On the one hand,\nthere is a distinct formation in finite relations, an insistence upon\nplastic organisation and complete consciousness of life; on the other,\nan aspiration towards the infinite, a more submissive faith, a more\nunrestrained disposition, a higher estimate of the na\u00efve and the\nchildlike. In the former, man, full of confidence in his own power,\nhimself produces a rationality of reality, and disdains all aids alien\nto himself; in the latter, life is sustained by a trust in an infinite\ngood and power which, in a way transcending the capacity of man, guides\nto the attainment of the best; in short, as a whole and in its\nindividual aspects each is a fundamentally different type of life from\nthe other.\n\nThe type of life advocated by Christianity has resulted in a great\ndeepening of life; it cannot possibly be given up again in favour of an\nearlier type. But this Christian type also does not suffice for the\nmoulding of life as a whole. Most severe complications would ensue if\nthe position of Christianity were taken up as an ultimate conclusion and\nan absolute evaluation in the conditions which at present exist, and its\nprinciples without further consideration were applied to our life as a\nwhole. The annulling of all differences, even of spiritual capacity; the\ndisplacement of justice through pity; the cessation of the conflict\nagainst evil; the low estimate of man's own power, would all endanger\nmost severely the rational character of life; an adoption of this type\nof life in its entirety would lead to the discontinuance of the work of\nculture; in particular, it is inconsistent with any kind of political\norganisation. Finite conditions are not to be judged by infinite\nstandards; and we men are, after all, in the finite and remain so.\n\nAnd so, from the earliest times since Christianity, from being merely\none of opposing systems, became the dominant power, compromises have\nbeen sought. The system of the development of power and of justice has\nnevertheless asserted its influence, and though Christianity has had an\nexternal supremacy, this system has forced characteristically Christian\nlife to be regarded as a matter of mere subjective disposition and of\nprivate life. But as such compromises do not fully and truly express\nspiritual necessity, they easily lead to falsity. To rise above this\ntendency to make such compromises, the acknowledgment of the right and\nof the limits of each type, the acknowledgment of the necessity of both\nwithin a comprehensive whole, is necessary. Such a whole and along with\nit a common ground, upon which the movements meet together, and can\nstrive to understand one another, is given to us by the spiritual life,\nacknowledged in its independence. It is not for us to force our life\ninto a finished scheme, but to develop fully and to acknowledge the\nmovements and oppositions which exist in our life. True, life will ever\nremain unfinished, but can we wish to make it more complete than it can\nbe, and can the incompleteness cause us anxiety, when we are sure of its\nmain direction?\n\n\n\n\nIII\n\nAPPLICATION TO THE PRESENT\n\nCONSEQUENCES AND REQUIREMENTS\n\n_Introductory Considerations_\n\n\nWith a consideration of the present we set out: to the present we now\nreturn. The convictions at which we have arrived, and which have led us\nto a characteristic philosophy of life, must now be considered in\nrelation to the needs of the present; we must see whether this\nphilosophy proves to be true in this connection, and this by its own\ndevelopment, as well as by the simplification of the condition of a\ntime, which, as it is immediately experienced, is confused in the\nhighest degree.\n\nBut, at the outset of our treatment of this problem, we perceive how\ndifficult it is for the acknowledgment of an independent spirituality to\ndetermine our relation to the temporal environment; we see how this\nacknowledgment transforms that relation into a problem. The conception\nof the \"present\" is by no means simple and certain, even as far as its\nexternal boundary is concerned. The mere to-day is obviously too short a\nperiod to constitute the present; but how much is to be added and where\nmust it cease in order that we may have a genuine present? True, the\npresent must involve a characteristic content that associates the\nmoments and unites them so as to produce a common effect; but does our\ntime give us such a content? The first glance at the state of life in\nour time reveals a chaotic confusion, which includes the most diverse\nendeavours, now in passionate union, now in complete indifference to one\nanother, and yet again in harsh hostility; further, there is a constant\ndisplacement of the individual elements by a process of elevation and of\ndegradation. Even if something common and permanent is operative in the\npresent, its close amalgamation with this change and movement prevents\nit from being purely developed: the truth contained in the present state\nof life is inseparably mixed with human error and passion.\n\nAnd yet this is not an experience simply of the present, but one common\nto all ages. For fundamental spiritual creation has always been effected\nin the direst contradiction to the social environment. What harsh\njudgments, and judgments that set its value at nil, have been passed\nupon society with regard to its capacity not only in religion but also\nin philosophy and art! How severe a conflict has been carried on in all\ndepartments of life against the presumption of society! The present,\nespecially, is troubled by these problems, because, as has become\nevident to us from the beginning of our investigation, it carries within\nit movements of a diverse and contradictory nature, so that it can\nhardly produce a consistent impression of the whole, still less attain\nto a definite character. Human interests and parties seek with all their\nenergy to impress upon the time their own character; they call that\nmodern which is useful to and in harmony with themselves. The most\ndiverse tendencies cross one another; experiences in particular\ndepartments of life determine the conception of the whole; the different\nclasses of society follow different courses in accordance with their\ndifferent interests; much that is accidental is regarded as vital and is\nallowed to influence us: the extreme has the advantage of being able to\nmake an impression upon us; and the superficial and the negative creep\ninto favour through the easiness of the conclusion presented by them: in\nshort, in this state of the time, that which arises in human opinion is\nincapable of offering to spiritual endeavour a secure support and an\norientation concerning its aims.\n\nThis uncertainty cannot be removed by turning our attention to history,\nby taking an interest in past ages. For, with whatever clearness a\nhighly developed science of history may present the whole course of the\nages to us, to believe that our own life is enriched and made more\nstable by this, we must confuse knowledge and life, the mere present\nrepresentation of earlier times and the appropriation of them by our own\nactivity--a danger into which the purely academic mode of thought easily\nfalls. The power and the tendency of life in the present determine the\nnature of our appropriation of the past and of its transformation in\nself-determining activity. If this life stagnates, then we are helpless\nin face of the stream of earlier systems of thought. Even if these\nsystems attract us to themselves, and carry us with them for a time,\nfinally they will manifest their antitheses and throw us back again upon\nourselves: we cannot escape from ourselves; we can never find a\nsubstitute from outside for want of conviction and power of our own. It\nis a fundamental error, not, indeed, of historical research but of a\nfeeble historical relativism, to expect us to form a conviction of our\nown by concerning ourselves with the past; and to think that the later\nstage in history proceeds from the earlier as a self-evident final\nresult. By taking such an attitude to the past we should only fall into\nthe half-will and half-life common to an age of decadence. If the\npresent is thus uncertain in the heart of its spiritual nature, and it\nis not possible to escape from this uncertainty by resorting to the\npast, it may appear to be essential that we should be completely\ndelivered from the tyranny of time, and that we should take up an\nattitude of entire unconcern of its affirmation and its negation of\nspiritual endeavour.\n\nBut a rejection of the immediate relation to time by no means settles\nthe matter. If spiritual work were completely dissociated from the\ntemporal environment and the historical movement, it would be dependent\nsolely upon the capacity of the mere individual and upon the passing\nmoment; all relation, all community of work, would thus be given up, and\nthe performance of others could not be anything to us, nor our\nachievement anything to others; there would be no inner building up of\nlife, and no hope of reaching greater depths. Not only is it impossible\nto abandon such aims, but our experience of spiritual work itself\ncontradicts the disintegration of life into nothing but isolated\npoints. If all spiritual creation is effected in contradiction to time,\nwhat is denied in this contradiction is rather that which lies upon the\nsurface of time than that which is deeper; rather human accommodation to\nthan the spiritual content of time. All who believe that distinctive\nhuman history is sustained by the activity of a spiritual life will\nattribute to time such a spiritual content.\n\nEvery age, therefore, in virtue of the presence of this spiritual life,\nwill contain characteristic spiritual motives, movements, and demands,\nand will be especially qualified to convey certain contents to man, to\nopen up certain experiences to him, and to point out certain directions.\nAll these must be appropriated by anyone who wishes to transcend the\noriginal state of emptiness, and to advance to spiritual creation and to\na spiritual fashioning of life. In consequence of this a more friendly\nattitude may be taken up towards time; and we shall be far more grateful\nto it--though perhaps not with explicit consciousness, perhaps even in\ncontradiction to definite purpose--than we could ever be with regard to\nthe experiences on the surface of time. However low, for example, the\nestimate Plato may have formed of \"the many\" around him; and though with\nthe whole passion of his soul he may have insisted upon a transformation\nof the immediate condition of life, what he offered of his own and the\nnew that he required, with all its originality and uniqueness,\ncontradicts neither the natural spirit of the Greek nor the contemporary\nGreek culture: Plato can be regarded only as a Greek of a particular\ntime. His conflict with the time is not the conflict of an incomparable\nindividuality with his environment, but a selection and a unification of\nthe possibilities existing in time; it is an arousing to life of the\ndeeper realities of time against its superficialities, of spiritual\nnecessities in opposition to the conduct and interests of men. In this\nmanner the great man also is a child of his age, and is unintelligible\nout of relation to it. Could one think of Goethe as living in the Middle\nAges, or of Augustine as living in the age of the Enlightenment?\nIndeed, we may carry our contention further, and say that the great has\nbeen just that which has had the closest relation with the time; and\nthat it has reached a permanent significance, just because it expressed\nthe unique nature and the inner longing of the time, that which was\nincomparable and inderivable in it. That which has been able to work\npermanently beyond the time in which it made its appearance was born not\nfrom a timeless consideration of things, but from the deepest feeling of\nthe needs of the time; only thus can we escape from the feeling of\nunreality which otherwise accompanies the striving after spirituality.\nThis consideration must commend to spiritual work the closest possible\nrelation with the time, and the spiritual life may hope for an essential\nadvance of its own striving as a result of this relation.\n\nStill, the matter is not so simple as it is often thought to be. The\nspiritual content of the ages is not a complete fact that permeates life\nwith a sure and definite effect, so that it could be taken up by\nactivity. Rather, that which is great and characteristic in the ages is\nfound only in creative spiritual activity, abstracted from which it is\nno more than a possibility; a suggestion that is inevitably lost, if an\nadvancing spiritual activity is lacking. Spiritual creation is not a\nmere copy, an employment of an existent time-character. Rather, time\nfirst attains a spiritual character through spiritual activity, and by\nspiritual creation possibility first becomes complete reality. This\nspiritual creation is not simply a summation but a potentialisation, an\nessential elevation of that which exists in time. Without this activity\nthe spiritual elements in time remain merely coexistent, and have no\nliving unity; they realise no life of the whole, no being within the\nactivity, nothing that means to us development of being. Temporal life\nthen remains only a half-life, a life of pretence; it lacks complete\nself-consciousness and true stability and joy, and at the same time it\nlacks a genuine present. To attain such a present thus appears to be a\ndifficult task, the performance of which is not so much presupposed by\nthe different branches of spiritual life as is an object of their work.\nArt, for example, is rightly required to express the feeling of the life\nof the time; yet it does not find such a feeling of life already\nexistent, but it must first wrest it from the chaos of the general\ncondition of life. Art is great in giving to the time that which it did\nnot already possess, but which is, nevertheless, necessary to the\ncomplete reality of its life. Spiritual work, therefore, is not\nsomething just added in time, but that which first gives to time a\ngenuine life and a genuine present. This task may be achieved with quite\ndifferent degrees of success; it is not all times that reach this\nelevation and attain to a genuine present; those that do so we call\ngreat and \"classical\" times. The general state of our life--which,\nhowever, does not imply time as a whole--appears from this point of view\nto be especially afflicted with the defect and fault of insincerity; our\nage does not so much live a life of its own as a strange life; and yet\nthis life is represented as being a life of our own. And it is\nespecially so in our own time, when along with a state of division in\nour own purposes we are inundated by systems of thought alien to us. We\nare thus in danger of becoming half-hearted and living a life of\npretence: in religion we assert the profession of faith and the feelings\nof times long gone by to be our own conviction and feelings; we build\nour cathedrals in styles that correspond to another spiritual condition\nand another tendency of life; in philosophy we hang upon systems and\nproblems of other times; in everything we lack sincerity. But why is\nthis so, and why do we renounce all claim to a life in accordance with\nour own nature? Certainly not because our time lacks problems and tasks\nof its own, or because it is deficient in spiritual possibilities and\nnecessities; for, of these there is an abundance; in this matter our\ntime is not behind any other. But there predominates a wrong relation\nbetween these tasks and the central power of the spiritual life, which\nis equal to cope with them and out of the possibilities create a\nreality.\n\nIn any case spiritual work has a great deal to do with the time; and in\nregard to this it finds itself in no simple situation. Spiritual work\nmust acknowledge a given condition, which it cannot alter to suit its\nown preferences; but it can make something else out of this condition\nand also see something else in it than immediately meets the eye. The\npossibilities of a time are revealed only in spiritual work, and through\nit alone are they separated from the human additions that usually\novergrow them. These possibilities cannot become clearly evident, unless\na close relation to history is won: they are not suggestions simply of\nthe moment, for they have been prepared by the whole work of history.\nHistory acquires quite a different--a far more positive--meaning when\nthe spiritual life is acknowledged to be independent, and when it is\nadmitted that spiritual life is not just the embellishment of a reality\nother than spiritual, but the formation of the only genuine and\nsubstantial reality, the transition to a self-consciousness of life.\nFor, as such a formation of reality, this creative activity extends\nbeyond the particular time in which it originates, and becomes part of a\ntime-transcending present. True, this activity always appears in a\ngarment that seems simply temporary; but this garment does not\nconstitute its being: the imperishable in it, its fundamental life,\nremains inwardly near and present even after great changes of temporal\ncondition; and within the sphere of spiritual work is always capable of\nnew effect.\n\nChristianity, for example, in spite of the attacks that are and have\nbeen made upon it, still asserts itself as a living power. Yet there\ncannot be the slightest doubt that in everything that lies on the\nsurface of our life we are as far as possible removed from the centuries\nof its formation; that not only the view of the world but also the tasks\nof life and the nature of feeling and disposition have become radically\ndifferent. But life is not exhausted in these activities on the surface,\nwhich must be regarded as external manifestations that proceed from an\ninner unity. That which these centuries have performed for the essence\nof life: the realisation of a freedom of spiritual inwardness, the\nacknowledgment of an independent spiritual world with great aims and\ntasks, may, indeed, become obscured for the consciousness of individuals\nand of whole periods; it remains, however, an essential part, a\npresupposition of all further spiritual life.\n\nAs in this manner in the case of Christianity, spiritual reality has\nalso been evolved otherwise in some creative epochs; and in the movement\nof history they have all together produced a certain condition of\nspiritual evolution which constitutes the invisible basis of our own\nactivity, and from which it is first possible to elucidate the spiritual\nnature of a particular time. This universal, historical state of\nspiritual evolution indicates a level, to which must correspond all\nwork, which desires not simply to attain the aim of the moment but also\nto serve in the building up of a spiritual reality within the domain of\nhumanity. This historical condition of the spiritual life is not\nconferred upon us by history; rather history only mediates an incentive\nthat must first be transformed by our own activity and conviction. Only\na mode of thought which transcends the movement of history can recognise\na spiritual content in history and in our own time, and use this content\nfor our own striving.\n\nSpiritual work, therefore, and philosophy as part of it, has a twofold\nrelation to time, a negative and a positive: it must possess an\nindependence of time, and it must seek an intimate relation with it. The\n\"modern,\" according to the sense in which it is taken, will arouse us at\none time to energetic opposition, at another to the closest intimacy;\nthe former when it desires to subject us to the contemporary conditions\nwith all their contingency, the latter when it champions the spiritual\npossibilities of the time and the state of spiritual evolution in\ncontrast with the human. We are concerned in a conflict for genuine\nagainst false time; we are to distinguish clearly between the merely\nhuman and the spiritual present; the spiritual life must first give a\ngenuine reality to time, and in doing this must advance in itself.\n\nEvery particular philosophic conviction must justify itself in its\ntreatment of this problem; it must be in a position to wrest the truth\nfrom the error in time; to understand and to estimate the endeavour of\nthe time without yielding to it; to comprehend as a whole the manifold\nelements of truth in the life of the present, and to elucidate them from\na transcendent unity. Without doubt great problems and fruitful\npossibilities exist in the time, but we often feel the most painful\ncontrast between their demands and the achievements of man. To diminish\nthis divergence; for the time to attain more to its own perfection and\nbecome a genuine present, is an urgent task in the performance of which\nphilosophy also must co-operate; and by this endeavour philosophy can\nalso gain much for itself.\n\n\n\n\nI. REQUIREMENTS FOR THE FORM OF LIFE AS A WHOLE\n\n(a) THE CHARACTER OF CULTURE\n\n\nThe term \"culture\" received its present meaning in the latter half of\nthe eighteenth century; culture itself reaches back to the beginning of\nthe Modern Age. The whole evolution of the Modern Age is a striving\nbeyond the religious form of life which prevailed in the Middle Ages,\nand which began to be felt to be narrow and one-sided. In opposition to\nthis type of life a new type arose, increased in strength, and finally\nwe became fully conscious of it in the idea of culture. The new type has\nbeen felt to be far superior to the old in many ways; it is not limited\nto one side of human nature, but desires to take it, and to develop it\nas a whole; it does not refer man to any kind of external aid, but makes\nhis life depend as much as possible upon his own power, and finds an aim\nfully sufficient in the limitless extension of this power; it directs\nman's perception and endeavour not so much beyond the world as to it,\nand hopes by this means to give a stability to his striving, and a close\nrelation with the abundance of things. The movement has brought about a\nfar-reaching transformation of life: that which was lying dormant has\nbeen aroused; the rigid made plastic; the manifold woven into a whole of\nlife; the whole range of life has acquired more spontaneous freshness\nand inner movement. The result of the work of history now becomes for\nthe first time a complete possession, since above everything contingent\nand accidental it elevates an essential, and above everything tending to\nseparation and hostility, a common humanity.\n\nThe animating and ennobling influence of modern culture is nowhere more\nmanifest than in the life-work of Goethe. For we recognise the greatness\nof his nature primarily in that, with the acutest vision and the\ngreatest freedom, he entered into the multiplicity of experience and\nevents; with placid yet powerful dominance stripped off all that was\nmere semblance and pretence, all that was simply conventional and\npartial, and fully realised the genuine, the freshness of life, and the\npurely human. (_V._ \"The Problem of Human Life.\") His treatment of\nBiblical narratives is a good example of this: that a king reigned in\nEgypt who knew not Joseph suggests to him how quickly even the most\nmagnificent human achievements are forgotten; that Saul went forth to\nfind his father's she-asses, and found a kingdom, symbolises to him the\ntruth that we men often reach something totally different from, and also\nmuch better than, that for which we strove and hoped; the miracle of the\nwalking on the water is to him a parable of unflinching faith--the\nholding fast to apparent impossibilities--without which there can be no\ngreat creation.\n\nIf, with this achievement, modern culture may have the feeling of being\nthe fulfilment of the strivings of the ages, yet its own course has\nproduced oppositions, and engendered perplexities that culminate in a\ndangerous crisis. Culture, as it was represented at the height of German\nspiritual life, was directed chiefly towards the inner development of\nman; it was called with especial satisfaction \"spiritual culture.\" Its\nadherents were concerned not so much with finding a better relation to\nthe environment as with growing in the realm of their own soul, and with\nemploying whatever the experience of life brought in the development of\na self-conscious personality, of pure inwardness. Only in this way did\nthey seem to advance from the previous state of limitation to the\ncomplete breadth of existence, and the exercise of all their powers. A\njoy in life, a firm confidence in the rationality of reality gave this\ninner culture a soul; and a bold flight bore it far above the narrowness\nand heaviness of daily life; \u00e6sthetic literary creation became the\nchief sphere of its work, and the chief means for the development and\nself-perfecting of personality.\n\nInner culture has by no means vanished from our life; effects of many\nkinds are felt from it in the present. But it has been forced to resign\nits supremacy in favour of a realistic culture, which makes the relation\nto the environment the chief matter, and removes the centre of life to\nthe intellectual and practical control of this environment. In realistic\nculture the inner development of work, of work in the direction of\nnatural science and technical art, as well as in politics and social\nendeavour, is less occupied with the acquiring of a powerful\nindividuality than with the establishment of an agreeable condition of\nsociety as a whole. Since activity is related more and more closely with\nthings, and receives laws and directions from them, culture is freed\nfrom dependence upon man and his subjectivity. Culture is an impersonal\npower in contrast with man; it does not lead ultimately to a good to him\nso much as make him simply a means and an instrument of its progressive\nmovement. An immeasurable structure of life, a ceaseless self-assertion\nand self-advancement, an arousing and an exertion of all powers that can\nbring man into relation with the environment, are manifest in this\nculture: but at the same time there is an increasing transformation of\nour life into a mere life of relation and mediation, a deprivation and a\nvanishing of self-consciousness. In the midst of the magnificent\ntriumphs in external matters there is an increasingly perceptible\ncontrast between an astonishing development of the technical, and a\npitiful neglect of the personal side of life: in regard to the former we\nsurpass all other times, as much as we fall below most in regard to the\nlatter. Along with a ceaseless increase of technical capacity, there is\na rapid degeneration of personal life, a pauperising of the soul. Where\nthe matter is one of a technical nature there is a magnificent\ncondition, definite progress in all departments, work conscious of its\naim; but there is a painful groping and helpless hesitation, a\nstagnation of production, an emptiness that is only just hidden by a\nveneer of academic education, where powerful personalities and\nimpressive individualities are required.\n\nFor a time we were carried away entirely by the tendency to place our\nattention solely upon the environment, and we seemed to be satisfied\nabsolutely by it. But the inner life that has been evolved within human\nexperience by the work of thousands of years, and through severe\nconvulsions, prevents this condition being accepted as a conclusion;\nthat which has once become an independent centre cannot possibly permit\nitself to be degraded to the position of a mere means and an instrument.\nIt is impossible to give up all claim to self-conscious and\nself-determining life and a satisfaction of this life. Our spiritual\nnature compels us to ask questions and to make claims; if they are not\nsatisfied, then, notwithstanding all the wealth of experiences, the\nfeeling of poverty spreads and we seek for aids, and, first, we turn\nback to that inner culture from which we had turned away. But we find\nthe ways shut off; a direct return is impossible. This culture had\ncharacteristic principles and presuppositions; and the course of modern\nlife itself has, if not overthrown them, involved them in serious doubt.\nWe have become clearly conscious of the limitations which this inner\nculture had without itself feeling them; movements which it united have\nnow separated, and have become hostile. Inner culture rested on a firm\nfaith in the power of reason in reality, and this faith begot a joyful\nconfidence. For it the world was sustained and determined by inner\nforces: we feel the rigid actuality of occurrences, the indifference of\nthe machinery of the world towards the aims of the spirit, and the\ncontradictions of existence. In the former case the greatness of man was\nthe predominant faith; and this greatness was sought in his freedom: we,\nhowever, feel much more our bondage to obscure powers and at the same\ntime our insignificance. In the former again, it aroused no opposition\nto call only a chosen part of humanity, the creative, to full and\ncomplete life, and to assign a most meagre portion to the majority: we\ncannot possibly renounce the concern for all mankind and for the\nwelfare of every individual. In the former, morality and art were\nharmoniously united in the ideal of life; in our time they have\nseparated and are at deadly enmity with one another. Everywhere life has\ngiven rise to more problems, more inconsistencies, more obscurities;\nthus, with all its external proximity, the joyfully secure ideal of life\nof our classical writers is inwardly removed far from us; without\ninsincerity we cannot proclaim it to be our profession of faith. In\nparticular the resort to Goethe, as to one with a secure standard of\nlife, is in general no more than an expression of perplexity, no more\nthan a flight from a clear decision of our own: the universality and the\nflexibility of his spirit permit a point of contact with him to be found\nby those whose views directly contradict those of one another, and\nallows each to abstract, and make a profession of faith of that which is\npreferable and pleasing to himself.\n\nThus to-day we are in a state of uncertainty and indefiniteness in\nreference to the problem of culture. Since the new does not suffice, and\nthe old cannot be taken up again, we are in doubt with regard to the\nwhole conception of culture; we know neither what we have of it nor what\nit demands from us. We cannot give up our claim to being something more\nthan nature, without sinking again to the level of the mere animal; but\nin what this \"more\" consists and how it is at all possible to surpass\nnature is to us completely obscure. A developed historical consciousness\nand the free unfolding of the powers of the present permit many things\nto rush in upon us; and we are involved in much inconsistency. We have\nseen diverse systems of life arise and attract man to themselves; their\nconflict relegates to the background all that is common to them,\nproduces the greatest uncertainty, and gives rise to the inclination, in\norder to avoid all perplexities, to regard life as being made up\nentirely of that which occurs within sense experience; and to acquire\naims from this experience, as well as to derive powers from it. But in\nthis we fall into the danger of idealising sense experience falsely,\nand of expecting achievements from movements within it which are\npossible only if these movements flow from deeper sources. We flee to\nmorality to become free from all religion and metaphysics; as though\nmorality, elevating man, as it does, above simply physical preservation\nand the compulsion of mere instinct, is not itself a metaphysic, and as\nthough it does not of necessity require the existence of an order\nsuperior to nature. Then we flee to the subject with its unrestrained\ninwardness and contrast this inwardness with all the restricting\nrelations of life; as though the subject had any content and any value\nwithout an independent inner world, the recognition of which involves a\ncomplete revolution of the representation of reality; as then according\nto the witness of history also humanity has reached such an inner world\nonly through wearisome toil and forceful resolutions. The whole course\nof Antiquity had been leading up to this inner world, but the collision\nof Antiquity at the time of its decay, with Christianity which was then\narising, first developed it clearly. Such an inner world must ever be\njustified anew; and for this our own activity and conviction are\nnecessary. If we surrender its basis, it becomes dead capital which,\nlittle by little, is inevitably spent, and then the appeal to the\nsubject that has lost its spiritual content is but a mere semblance of\nhelp, which deceives us concerning the seriousness of the situation with\nsweet-sounding words like \"personality,\" \"individuality,\" and so forth.\nIf the spiritual life is not strengthened and does not energetically\ncounteract this tendency, then, notwithstanding all external progress,\nwe must inwardly sink lower and lower.\n\nIt is obvious that there is already such a counteraction in existence;\notherwise, how could spiritual destitution and the insignificance of the\nmerely human be so keenly felt in the present; how could so ardent a\ndesire for an inner elevation spread amongst men as we experience it\naround us? There is no lack of attempts and endeavours after new aims\nand new ways. But much is still lacking for these attempts to be equal\nto satisfy the requirements of the matter. We place far too much hope\nin external reforms, instead of primarily strengthening the inner basis\nof life; we fix our attention far too much upon individual tasks instead\nof seizing the whole; we have far too much faith that we can rise to a\nnew life out of this chaotic condition, instead of insisting upon an\nattainment of independence in relation to this condition.\n\nHow could independence be attained except by an energetic reflection of\nman upon himself, upon his fundamental relation to reality, upon the\nlife dwelling in him, in short, except by self-consciousness? It is not\nthe first time that, in the course of the ages, to satisfy such a demand\nhas become the most urgent of all tasks. The work of history has not\nunshakable foundations from the beginning; but the spiritual nature of\nepochs always involves the activity and the decisions of man; it\ninvolves, therefore, presuppositions that for a long period may be\naccepted as established truths, and which, yet, finally become\nproblematic. At the beginning of the Modern Age, especially in the\ntransition to the Enlightenment, apparently established truths became\nproblematic in this way: the present is in a similar situation. The\nthreads that we have hitherto followed break; all external help is\nrejected, as is also the authority of history; nothing else remains to\nus than our own capacity, and the hope to find in it a new support and\nthe basis for a new construction. Only by our own power, and after a\nbreak with the immediate present, shall we be able to strive after a new\nidea of culture which corresponds to the historical position of\nspiritual evolution, and which can take up into itself the experiences\nof humanity. Such times of error, of vacillation, of searching, of\nnecessary renewal, are disagreeable and severe, but it depends only on\nthe summoning of spiritual power whether they become great and fruitful.\nFor, with regard to these central questions the times do not make men,\nbut men make the times, not, of course, in accordance with their own\npreferences, but by seizing and realising the necessities that exist in\nthe spiritual condition of the time.\n\nNow, as scarcely anything else in life is more called upon to co-operate\nin the renewing of culture than philosophy, so the system here concisely\npresented is placed in the service of this task; it attempts a\nconstruction chiefly by the union of three demands and points of attack:\nit requires a more energetic development and a complete unification of\nthe life-process; it requires the acknowledgment and development of a\nspiritual life of independent nature present to us; and lastly, it\nrequires that this life shall be understood and treated as the world's\nconsciousness of itself and thus as the only reality. All these demands\nmust tend towards an essential alteration of the existent state of\nculture; they make much inadequate that previously sufficed; but they\nalso reveal an abundance of new prospects and the possibility of a\nthorough inner elevation.\n\nIt is a leading idea of our whole investigation that only from the\nlife-process itself are we able to orientate ourselves in relation to\nourselves and the world; and this idea is in agreement with the present\nmode of thought in science. But to apply to our own time that which is\nalready acknowledged in general ideas is by no means simple. To give the\nlife-process such a position in our thought and to estimate it so highly\nis possible only when life is distinctly distinguished from the states\nof the mere subject, from the mere reflex of the environment in the\nindividual. This detachment cannot be accomplished unless we comprehend\nas a whole that which exists in individual manifestations of life;\ndistinguish different levels in life, indicate relations and movements\nwithin them, and thus advance to new experiences of life; reveal a union\nof fact, a distinctive synthesis in life, which from a transcendent\nunity shapes the multiplicity that it contains. But if in general it is\ndifficult to free ourselves so much from the condition of life in which\nwe find ourselves, to be able to illuminate this condition in this way,\nand to throw its inner framework into relief; for us there is also to be\nadded the immeasurable expansion that directs the interests and the\nvision to the outside, and is accustomed to treat, as a mere supplement,\na mere means and instrument, the life that in reality sustains all\ninfinity. A culture that has made the attainment of results the chief\nthing has been detrimental to the spiritual, which no longer trusts\nitself to encompass these achievements and to change them in a\ndevelopment of life, to take up the conflict for dominion over reality.\nIt willingly flees to the passivity of the subject, where sooner or\nlater it expires in complete destitution.\n\nIf inwardness is so feeble and external relations so overwhelm us, life\nnecessarily receives its content from outside, and seems to be\ndetermined essentially by that which happens around us. It is this that\nlends so much power to-day to a superficial enlightenment that centres\nin natural science, and expects life to be advanced without limit, and\nman to be revived and ennobled, simply by reaching a more valid\nrepresentation of the environment. We do not ask here how far the\nrepresentations proposed overcome the difficulties of the older\nrepresentations, or whether new and more difficult problems do not arise\nfrom the solutions offered; but we do ask whether life can obtain its\naim and content from outside, and whether it can be treated simply as an\naddition to nature without degenerating inwardly, and losing all inner\nmotive. We ask what the theories based chiefly on externals make of man,\nand what they achieve for his soul. We summon him to an examination, to\nsee whether the picture that is held up to him by these theories agrees\nwith what he longs for, and, by a compelling necessity of his being,\nmust long for.\n\nTo-day it will also be evident that the final decision does not rest\nwith the intellect, but with life as a whole. For, little as\nintellectual achievement is absent from truth, the masses--and to the\nmasses belong those at the average level of all classes, higher as well\nas lower--will always hold fast to the external impression. The advance\nbeyond this impression and the appreciation of the inner conditions of\nknowledge will always remain a concern of the minority. There is,\nhowever, a point where the problem becomes real to each individual, and\nwhere each can offer his opinion: this is in reference to the question\nof the happiness and the content of life. The more this question is\nfelt, the greater will be the thirst for a substantial truth in contrast\nwith the shadows of the Enlightenment; the more will the question\nconcerning the nature of life as a whole receive its due consideration,\nand the perception of things externally will give place to a\ncomprehension of their inner reality. Only with such a revolution can\nour life and we ourselves be transformed from a state of spiritual\ndestitution to one of independent energy; only thus can we discover the\nwealth that is within us; only thus can culture, from being an\noccupation with things, become a preservation and an unfolding of our\nown selves; only thus can we strive for more simplicity in contrast to\nthe complexity that would otherwise be our condition; and only thus can\nwe wrest from what would otherwise be chaos, fundamentals and\ntendencies. Our demand, therefore, that the starting-point should be the\nlife-process itself is in harmony with the innermost longing of the\ntime--even if this longing is often indefinite--after a deepening of\nlife and an attainment of its independence.\n\nIf the turning to the life-process puts the question, the assertion of\nan independent spiritual life gives the answer to it: however strange\nthis assertion may seem in relation to superficial temporal experience,\nit meets a deep longing. For we are completely satiated with narrowly\nhuman culture; the movements and experiences of the Modern Age, and in\nparticular of the present, make us so clearly conscious of all that is\ntrivial, simply apparent, disagreeable, feeble, shallow, empty, and\nfutile in human conduct, that all hope of finding satisfaction in this\nconduct, and of advancing life essentially by its means and powers, must\nbe abandoned. We have, therefore, to face the following alternative:\neither absolute doubt and the cessation of all effort, or the\nacknowledgment of a \"more\" in man; there is no third possibility. But in\nthe context of our investigation no discussion is required to show that\nthis \"more\" cannot consist in an individual's elevation of himself above\nothers; that it cannot consist in a so-called Superman--a view that\nonly involves us more in the narrowly human. Either the \"more\" sought\nfor is only imaginary, a covering of tinsel with which we conceal our\nnakedness, or a world transcending the merely human, a new stage of\nreality, reveals itself to man, which can become his own life. As it is\nthis transcendent world alone that engenders a universal life within us\nand opposes the insignificantly human; so also from this alone, and as\nits manifestation, can culture become independent in relation to man.\nOnly when it is understood in this way can culture include aims and\ntasks that do not strengthen man in his narrowness, but free him from\nit, and make him spiritually greater.\n\nNot only the conception but the whole nature of that which is called\nculture is an unstable hybrid. It should elevate man above nature, and\ngive to his life a characteristic spiritual content; but at the same\ntime we have a dread of a detachment from the experience of sense and of\nthe construction of an independent world, because these must lead to\nthat which, of all things, is the cause of most alarm, to a change of a\nmetaphysical character, to a transformation of existence. In truth, in\nthe work of humanity two tendencies are usually undistinguished, which,\nif life is to continue to advance, need to be distinctly separated: a\nspiritual culture and a merely human culture. The former reveals new\ncontents and aims; with it a new world emerges within man, and\ntransforms his life from its basis: the latter uses that which a higher\norganisation has given us, solely as a means for the advancement of our\nnatural and social existence. Merely human culture turns the spiritual\ninto a mere means to increase narrowly human happiness, whereas the\nspiritual by its very nature makes us feel the whole of this happiness\nto be too insignificant, indeed intolerable. The difference of a merely\nhuman and a spiritual culture extends from the fundamental disposition\nto all the separate departments of life. Religion, for example, is to\nthe former a means by which the individual may make himself as\ncomfortable and as secure as possible in an existent world, and conduct\nhis own insignificant _ego_ through all dangers; to the latter, it\nsignifies a radical break with that world and the gain of a new life, in\nwhich care for that _ego_, or even the state of society, is relegated\ncompletely into the background. To the one, morality is simply a means\nin the organisation of human social life, in the accommodation of the\nindividual to his environment; to the other, it discloses a new\nfundamental relation to reality, and in the transformation of existence\nin self-determining activity allows life to win an inner union with the\ninfinite and its self-consciousness. On the one hand, art, science, the\nlife of the state, education, and so forth are the idols of utility, of\nexpediency, the adornments of a given existence; on the other, they are\nthe gods of truth, of inner independence, of world-renewing spontaneity.\nThat there should be an end to the confusion of the worship of idols and\nof gods; that spiritual culture should be distinguished from merely\nhuman culture; that the spiritual content of the individual departments\nof life should be energetically developed, and the spiritual poverty of\nmerely human culture made clear--all this is the urgent demand of the\npresent, without the fulfilment of which its state of confusion cannot\nbe overcome. Yet spiritual culture can never become independent unless\nthe spiritual world is independent. Only the presence of this spiritual\nworld makes it possible for culture, at the level at which it is\ngenerally found, to be tested by a transcendent standard to see how much\nspiritual substance, how much content and value, it contains. This test\nwill prove that we possess far less spirituality than we think; and that\nthe most of what is called culture is no more than the semblance of\nculture, no more than imagination and presumption. But at the same time\nwe recognise and gain in the little spirituality that remains to us\nincomparably more; we win the presence of a new world, and by this,\ndepth of life and the possibility of an inner renewal. Our life would be\nindescribably shallow if it were to pass on one level and were to be\nexhausted in the experiences at that level. The acknowledgment of an\nindependent spiritual life saves us from this shallowness, in that it\nshows an inner gradation within our own province and sets life as a\nwhole a task.\n\nIf the acknowledgment of a spiritual world, inwardly present to us,\ngives to culture a distinctive character, this character receives a\nfurther modification from the particular manner in which the spiritual\nlife makes its appearance and becomes established within our existence;\nat the same time, from this position there is also the possibility of\ndifferent sides and tasks within an all-comprehensive work of culture.\nOf special significance in reference to this modification is the\ncircumstance that the spiritual life does not possess man as a natural\nfact, does not operate within him with complete power and sure direction\nfrom the beginning, but is present to him at first only as a\npossibility, and as a transcendence of the general condition of things.\nIn accordance with this, although the spiritual belongs to our nature,\nit is not so much \"given\" to us as set as a task; for its realisation it\nneeds our own attention and appropriation; all development of the\nspiritual life within us, therefore, involves our own activity and so\nreceives an ethical character. The spiritual life also has such an\nethical character because, transcending our original condition, it must\nbe conveyed to us, and must be maintained by an imparting and an\nactivity. In the spiritual life we find ourselves in a sphere of\nactivity and of freedom in contrast with that of nature; in this way our\nlife becomes our work, our own life in a much more real sense. We see\nthis in the case of the fundamental form of the spiritual life that is\ncalled \"personality.\" We men are by no means personalities from the\nbeginning; but we bear within us simply the potentiality of becoming a\npersonality. Whether we shall realise our personality is decided by our\nown work; it depends primarily upon the extent to which we succeed in\nstriving beyond the given existence to a state of self-determining\nactivity. The fact that we thus take part in the formation of our own\nbeing proves that we are citizens of a new world--a world other than\nnature--and shows that we are incomparably more than we could become\nsimply as parts of nature. Neither philosophy nor religion will convince\none who, at this point, does not recognise an elevation to a higher\npower, indeed a transformation of existence. But one who recognises this\nwill desire such a transformation and such an elevation of culture also;\nhe will not come to an easy compromise with the given condition of\nthings and draw the greatest possible amount of pleasure from this\ncondition; but he will set culture an objective ideal; arouse it from\nthe prevailing state of indolence; fully acknowledge the antitheses of\nexperience, and will be provoked rather to make further exertions than\ndisposed to abandon himself to these antitheses. Life finds its main\nproblem in itself, solely in the development of an ethical character,\nand attains to complete independence and a transcendence of nature only\nwhen the spiritual takes precedence. Every culture that does not treat\nthe ethical task, in the widest sense, as the most important of tasks\nand the one that decides all, sinks inevitably to a semblance of\nculture, a half-culture, indeed a comedy. The \u00e6sthetic system, with its\ntransformation of life into play and pleasure, with its beautiful\nlanguage and its spiritual poverty, is such a life. To-day, therefore,\nwe can revive and strengthen culture only by establishing such an\nethical conviction. Only a culture of an ethical character can develop\nan independent and positive spirituality; only such a culture can free\nthe impulse of life from being directed simply to natural\nself-preservation, and in doing this not make the impulse weaker, but\nstronger. In nothing have minds been more divided and in nothing will\nthey become more divided than with regard to the question whether, after\nthe perception of the inadequacy of mere nature and society, a new world\nreveals itself to them, or whether this negation is the ultimate\nconclusion; the former will be possible only through that which we call\nethical.\n\nThe conception that we have here presented of the spiritual life and of\nits relation to man also makes it for the first time possible to\nunderstand and acknowledge the manifold and opposing elements in our\ntime without falling into a shallow eclecticism. Realism advances in\npower, and Idealism seems to be endangered in respect not only of its\nform but also of its innermost nature. Idealism is indeed in danger so\nlong as the spiritual life has not attained to independence in relation\nto man; for, so long as the spiritual life is regarded as a production\nof man the knowledge of man's relation to nature and his animal origin\nmust lead to a serious prostration, to a complete dissolution of\nIdealism. If, on the other hand, it is established that with the\nspiritual life a new order transcending the power of man makes its\nappearance within him, then the recognition of human incapacity becomes\na direct witness to the independence of the spiritual life. We must,\ntherefore, cease to treat spiritual developments, such as religion, art,\nmorality, as the natural attributes of all called men. Man's natural\ncharacter simply offers tendencies and relations which can find a\nspiritual character only by the revelation of a spiritual world. The\ndecisive point of transition is not between man and animal, but between\nnature and spirit. But even where culture is supposed to be at its\nhighest, human existence is for the most part at the level of\nnature--and is only embellished in some degree.\n\nIn Idealism a religious shaping of life is to be distinguished from an\nimmanent shaping of life by spiritual creation, especially in art and\nscience. The demand for a universal spiritual system involves the\nrejection of the specific religious system as being in many ways too\nnarrow and open to hostile criticism; this universal system, however, as\nit is presented when the spiritual life is acknowledged to be\nindependent, is closely related to religion. Not only is all\nspirituality within us dependent upon a universal spiritual life, but\nthis spiritual life within us always presents itself as something\ntranscendent and is not coincident with our life. This religious\ncharacter must be the more clearly emphasised the greater the toil with\nwhich the spiritual life must defend itself from a world apparently\nalien and hostile. Immanent Idealism, filling life as it does through\nart and science, cannot possibly be the whole and conclusive--for this\nreason at least, that it has too little with which to counteract the\nperplexities of spiritual and of material life, and because it\nconcentrates life too little within itself. But a scientific character\nis indispensable to a universal spiritual culture, in order that life\nmay not pass in subjective feeling and presentation, and that life may\nhave an objective character, and be led to the clearness of a universal\nconsciousness. An \u00e6sthetic form and creative activity pertain also to\nthis life; for, otherwise, no representation of reality as a whole could\nbe obtained from the confused impressions of immediate experience; the\nspiritual could attain to no clear present, and could not permeate\nreality with ennobling power, and change all that is deformed and\nindifferent to it in the original condition of things.\n\nFrom the point of view of spiritual culture the movements in the\ndirection of Realism also may be regarded as of value, if only they do\nnot desire to dominate life and to impress their form directly upon it.\nThe tendency to place a low estimate upon the natural and material\nconditions of life and of human social relationship has everywhere\nrevenged itself upon the spiritual life, since it has allowed that life\nto fall into a state of weakness and effeminacy, and prevented it from\nrealising its full power and strength.\n\nThe acknowledgment of the multiplicity of tasks that are involved in all\nthe departments must be a source of great danger to life, if every\ndepartment of human experience does not serve the development of an\nindependent spiritual life. The more power the spiritual life acquires,\nthe more securely will it tend to prevent division. Nevertheless,\neverything is in a state of movement; man must first win a coherent\ncharacter for his life. But it is already a great gain that we are not\ndefenceless in face of the antitheses within the human sphere, that the\npresence of an independent spiritual life elevates us inwardly above\nthem and only allows an inner unity to take up a conflict.\n\nWe may also briefly consider how the conception of the spiritual life as\na coming of reality to itself, as a formation and development of being,\nmust tend to deepen and strengthen the work of culture. How much more\nthis work must become to us, how much more indispensable must it be, if\nit is not simply a matter of giving an existent material a new form, of\narousing dormant powers, but if in it we first advance from a life that\nis only a half-life and a life of pretence to a real and genuine life;\nif we struggle not for one thing or another within existence, but for\nour being as a whole! If once life is awakened to reflect upon itself,\nand if at the same time it makes a claim to self-consciousness and a\ncontent, it cannot doubt the poverty of the life of mere nature and just\nas little that of the life of mere society; in the former, as in the\nlatter, there are only suggestions of a genuine life, only\npossibilities, most of which do not come to be realised. Not suffering,\nbut spiritual destitution is man's worst enemy. From this position the\noutlook of the life of the majority can be only a cloudy one, its value\nonly mean. If we abstract from the experience of man that which is due\nto the necessity of self-preservation and to social training, how much\ninner movement, how much life of his own, how much that is spiritual\nremains in him! How many dead souls there are in all classes of society;\nhow many who, allowing their powers to lie dormant, drift about\naimlessly! Nevertheless other possibilities exist in man, and even if\nthey are not positively developed, still they prevent him from feeling\nsatisfied in that state of spiritual poverty, and always keep him in an\ninsecure state of suspension.\n\nThe less we think of the immediate welfare and capacity of man, the more\nwill the spiritual life transcend us and the more urgent will the task\nof the spiritual life become--to preserve to human existence in the\nmidst of all externality and pretence some kind of substance and some\nkind of soul. However, we have already occupied ourselves with the\nquestion of the nature and significance of truth and reality in the\nspiritual life.\n\n\n(b) THE ORGANISATION OF THE WORK OF CULTURE\n\nA problem from which no system of life can escape is that of the\norganisation of culture, the question how the work of culture can be\ndivided into different departments and at the same time preserve a\nunity. To-day we are in a state of great perplexity in this matter; an\nold solution has become untenable, and a new one has not yet been found.\n\nThe Middle Ages handed down to us a system of culture that may be\ndescribed as a hierarchy, in the widest sense of that term. The\nmultiplicity of life was united into a whole; but this whole was\ndominated by distinctive religious and philosophic convictions, which\nassigned to each individual department its place in the whole and set it\nits task; these departments attained to a complete independence as\nlittle as that system had an independence for individual forms. The\nModern Age has evolved and has realised a system of freedom in\nincreasing opposition to the earlier system. How this everywhere effects\nan emancipation is demonstrated by our problem of the increasing\ndevelopment to independence by the individual departments of life. The\nstate and society, science and art, find their tasks more and more\nwithin themselves, in their own development; they engender distinctive\nlaws and methods of their own; they seem to be able to reach their aims\nof their own capacity. Effort is directed more and more into individual\ndepartments, and there is a feeling of complete satisfaction in this\ntendency. Our life has gained immensely in comprehensiveness and breadth\nby the transition to this modern system: it comes more closely into\ntouch with the realm of fact; it produces a greater diversity of\nmovement, since the different departments have their own\nstarting-points, enter upon distinctive paths, and direct their powers\ninto these paths. The attainment of independence by the individual\ndepartments of life constitutes one of the chief gains of modern\nculture, and it cannot again be given up.\n\nBut the attainment of independence by the individual departments brings\ngreat perplexities with it, which make a definite counter-movement\nnecessary. At first the tendencies characteristic of the individual\ndepartments directly contradict one another; indeed, this is inevitable,\nif they are not systematised in some way. For, particular experiences of\nhuman life are present in each department: one feels our greatness more,\nanother our weakness; one is moved more by the harmony of existence,\nanother more by the antitheses; one tends rather to exert power upon the\nenvironment, the other to concentration in itself; from these\nexperiences there must originate different modes of life and different\nrepresentations of the world. In this condition of life it is impossible\nfor the different tendencies not to cross one another and to clash\ntogether; and this threatens to divide our life, and to rob it of all\nits inner unity. A glance at the condition of life in the present is\nsufficient to convince us that such dangers are more than fancies.\n\nTo the difficulty in respect of the relations of the different\ndepartments among themselves, we must add another, if anything greater,\nin respect of the relation of each department to life as a whole. To be\nwell organised each department needs a co-operation of form and content,\nof the technical and the personal; the former gives the department its\nparticular nature; for the latter a relation with life as a whole is\nnecessary. The work of science, for example, follows certain forms of\nthought, which it evolves from itself, and which are equally valid for\nall times and parties. But even the most conscientious following of\nthese laws does not give to science a content and a character; science\ncan acquire these only in relation with a movement of life as a whole,\nwhich, in its striving from whole to whole, takes up the experiences of\nhumanity and unites them into a whole. Only in this way does science,\nfrom being simply an arrangement and accumulation, become knowledge, an\ninner appropriation of things. If in accordance with this the individual\ndepartments are detached more and more from life as a whole, and are\nmade dependent solely upon their own capacity, it can hardly be\notherwise than that in the midst of all perfection in execution they\nlose more and more all spiritual content and all definite character. At\nthe same time, it may soon follow that the effect upon humanity as a\nwhole will become subsidiary and a matter of indifference; the\nindividual departments will become exclusively a matter of a circle of\nspecialists, and strive for an effect within this circle only. In this\nway an art arises which, in the artist, forgets the man, and which does\nnot so much convey new content to human life, or help the time to attain\nto a characteristic feeling of life, and elevate it above the\nmeaninglessness and the confusion of commonplace everyday experience,\nbut which is for the most part mindful of refinement in execution, and\nso, easily degenerates into the complicated and the virtuoso. In the\ncase of science we find the same thing. It may, through exaggerating the\nindependence necessary to it, assume an air of proud self-satisfaction,\nand, by detachment from the movement of life as a whole, that which is\nits main concern, namely, knowledge, may suffer. For it soon tends to\nbecome mere erudition, which treats problems as something half-alien,\ngains no inner relation to things, does not understand how to animate\nreality, indeed even rejects, as unscientific, all striving after such\nanimation. This tendency produces, to use an expression of Hegel's,\nexcellent \"counter-servers,\" who do not look after business of their\nown, but only that of others.\n\nNo people are more threatened by the danger of this tendency than we\nGermans; more especially because the tendency is closely related with a\nmost advantageous quality of our nature--willing subordination to the\nobject, fidelity to and conscientiousness in our work. But since we\nfollow this one tendency, aspects and tendencies which are absolutely\nnecessary to a complete life stagnate and decay. We do not sufficiently\ndevelop a personal life independent of the object; we do not encompass\nand transform it from its very base by a transcendent life-process; and\nso we are occupied too much with the material, and do not completely\nspiritualise it; we do not bring into relief simple lines in the\ninfinite abundance, which we require and must maintain complete. How\nmany excellent scholars our time possesses, who are equipped with an\nastonishing capacity for work, who are masters of even the most\ncomplicated technical matters, and yet how few spiritual types there are\namong them; how few who have anything to say to humanity, and who will\nexert their influence in this way beyond the present! The history of\nGerman formative art also indicates a painful divergence between the\namount of untiring work and the carefulness of execution, and the\ncreation of simple and pure forms that would increase the spiritual\npossessions of humanity, and be permanent factors in its movement.\nHowever, the trait is rooted far too deeply in our being for even the\nmost determined resolution to be able directly to achieve much to\ncounteract it. Nevertheless, it is not a matter of indifference whether\nwe give ourselves complacently up to this one-sidedness, and fortify\nourselves proudly in it; or whether we oppose it to the best of our\nability.\n\nWe find ourselves therefore in the present in a difficult situation with\nregard to the organisation of culture. To give up the independence of\nthe individual departments, or even only to limit it in any way, would\nbe an enormous and impossible retrogression; on the other hand, some\nkind of inner unity of life must be obtained. A transcendence of the\nantithesis must, therefore, be sought; and this needs a distinctive\nstructure of life. The spiritual life offers such a structure in so far\nas it constitutes the development of being. For we saw how independent\ncentres and characteristic movements arise in an all-comprehensive life.\nBetween these movements there may be manifold relations and antitheses,\nbut they are within a vital whole and with their experiences can aid its\nfurther development. Viewing the departments of life from this position,\nit will be necessary to show that each individual department has a root\nin life as a whole and a significance for this life; only thus can the\npower of this whole life be exerted in the individual departments, and\npenetrate them. But the department does not receive its form simply from\nthe whole by way of derivation; but it can take up and treat the problem\nindependently, and with its own means; that which exists in the whole as\nan affirmation may be only a question and a suggestion in the individual\ndepartment. Yet this is in no way without value: for, nevertheless, it\nleads us beyond the indefiniteness of the original condition, and guides\neffort in circumscribed paths. What gives work in the individual\ndepartments special significance and intensity is the fact that they\ntake up the problem of the whole in a particular sphere, and can treat\nthat problem in a characteristic manner; that they are not mere aids and\nassistants, but independent co-operators. In this connection it is of\nespecial importance that the spiritual life is not conferred upon man in\na finished form; but that within him it must first be worked towards\nwith great toil and through doubt and error, from indefinite outlines to\nmore detailed development. It is obvious that the form of the whole will\never be questionable; and that the individual departments must\nco-operate in the examination and justification of the forms proposed.\nIndeed, it is just the mark of great achievements in the individual\ndepartments that, while they transform their own sphere, they at the\nsame time develop the whole. It is this that distinguishes Leibniz from\nWolff, and Kant from Herbart.\n\nSuch an organisation gives to life a movement in two directions: it must\nbe conducted from whole to part, and from part to whole. The individual\ndepartments must be developed far enough to reveal their particularity\nand to produce a characteristic tendency of their own; but they must\nremain within a whole, to receive from it and to lead back to it. The\nrelations between the individual departments will be distinctive in such\na system; the influence of one upon another will be without suspicion,\nand advantageous, only when it is exerted through the mediation of the\nwhole; while disturbances are inevitable, when one conveys immediate\nexperiences to another and imposes its nature upon another. It was\nnecessary, for example, to reject the earlier encroachments of religion\nupon other departments of life; art, too, often found it necessary to\nresist the tendency to subordinate it to morality; and to-day there is a\nstrong inclination to shape every department of life in accordance with\nthe instructions of natural science. Yet although such encroachments\nmust be rejected, and the independence of each in relation to the others\npreserved, the changes that are effected in one department are by no\nmeans indifferent and lost to the other departments. For, if through\nthese changes life as a whole is developed, then the effect of the\nchange must extend to the other departments. In this manner of mediation\nreligion has exercised a strong influence upon the other departments of\nlife; and in this sense, to-day, an influence of natural science upon\nthe whole circle of existence will be readily acknowledged. But this\ndoes not involve a limitation or an enslaving of other departments,\nbecause the change in life as a whole must now be ascertained first;\nand, besides, each individual department must test by its own\nexperiences the suggestion coming from the whole.\n\nWhen we take all these facts into consideration we see that the\norganisation of culture is a difficult problem and that our organisation\nis unstable. In culture, different tendencies will cross one another;\nantitheses cannot be avoided, and collisions will not be lacking. But\nthat which life loses in completeness and exclusiveness, it gains in\nwealth and movement; and division need not be a cause of anxiety so long\nas a powerful spiritual life embraces and unifies the multiplicity.\nWithout such a counteraction by the spiritual life we must drift\ntowards ever greater specialisation; and, with this, we should not only\nsee life become more and more disintegrated, but we should also become\nless and less spiritual, and be transformed into a soulless mechanism.\n\n\n\n\nII. THE FORM OF THE INDIVIDUAL DEPARTMENTS\n\n_Preliminary Considerations_\n\n\nBefore we proceed to discuss the individual departments of life we may\nbriefly consider the common task that is imposed upon them all by the\ndistinctive condition of the time: they must become independent in\nrelation to the earlier as well as to the more modern conceptions of\nthem, and, if necessary, take up a conflict against both. The course of\nour investigation can have left no doubt with regard to the state of\nprostration of the older forms of life: the uncertainty affects the\nwhole and the fundamental principles much more than it has ever done\nbefore. Formerly the struggle was concerned rather with individual\ndepartments or individual tendencies of life; it was carried on more in\nreference to the conception and meaning of fundamental truths than with\nregard to the validity of those truths themselves. The passionate\nstruggles of the period of the Reformation left the fundamentals of\nChristianity untouched; in a similar manner the later attacks upon\necclesiastical religion usually had a basis of firm faith in morality,\nand derived their power more especially from it. To-day the authority of\nmorality is just as seriously shaken as that of religion; and the\nconception of truth is itself in the same condition of uncertainty.\n\nIn this condition of things an appeal to history cannot be employed as\nproof of any position; a patchwork of our own and of something alien\ngives us still less a position above perplexity: there is no other way\nthan to take up the problem with the means of the present itself. For\nthis the acknowledgment of the independence of the spiritual life forms\na fit foundation. The spiritual life is not dependent upon and fixed to\nparticular temporal conditions; ever anew it can break forth\nspontaneously, and from the particularity of the time advance to eternal\ntruths. It is to us a source of joy that a time has come again when we\nneed not follow other paths, but must go our own; when nothing can bind\nus but that which has been approved by our own being and our own\nconviction. It is not necessary for a time such as this to take up an\nattitude of hostility towards the whole past; rather--and especially\nwhen it thinks worthily of itself--it will seek a friendly relationship\nwith history. But this is possible only when the present has attained\ncomplete independence, and only from this independent position; only\nwhen an eternal content is revealed in that which history conveys to us.\nIn opposition to submission to authority such a time makes a demand for\nunlimited freedom and complete spontaneity; such freedom and spontaneity\nare essential if life is again to find the truthfulness and the inner\npower that we so painfully miss.\n\nSuch a requirement of life and thought arising out of the immediate\npresent may easily lead us to separate from those to whom the crisis\ndoes not seem so serious, and who believe that it is possible to\ntransform the old in a quiet and inhostile manner into the new. The\nconflict will be far more acute with those who, with us, make the demand\nfor an independent present; but who, by the conceptions of an\nindependent present, freedom and spontaneity, understand something\ntotally different from that which we ourselves understand by them from\nthe point of view of an independent spiritual life. In all times of\nspiritual revival the freedom and immediacy which the spiritual life\nneeds for itself have been usurped by mere man as though they were a\nright pertaining to him: and then it appears that only the complete\nemancipation of individuals, a severance of all connections,\nunconditional submission to the passing moment, are necessary in order\nto lead life to truth and greatness, and man to a glorious state of\nhappiness. Such a movement cannot spread without making the antitheses\nof life appear less acute, concealing its problems and its depths, and\nfalsely idealising man with all the contingency of his experience: with\nall the bustle of its preparation and all its agitation the movement\nmust terminate in a state of spiritual destitution; it threatens life\nwith inner destruction. With a modernity of this kind we have nothing in\ncommon.\n\nWe must, therefore, with all our power, wage war against the narrowly\nhuman and imaginary freedom on behalf of one that is genuine and\nspiritual: this conflict is exceptionally complicated and difficult,\nbecause real life does not make such a clear distinction between the\ngenuine and the false as the conceptions do, but rather allows them to\nbe confused. For this reason the conflict will be carried on not only on\nthe right hand and on the left, but also against the confusion that\nobscures the great \"either--or,\" without the distinct presence of which\na spontaneous life does not acquire power and consciousness. A way must\nbe found by which, notwithstanding manifold dangers and complications,\nwe may advance to a life that combines depth with freedom, stability\nwith movement: this is an inner necessity of the age, and once it is\nrecognised and taken up as such, it will in some way be realised.\n\n\n(a) RELIGION, MORALITY, EDUCATION\n\n1. RELIGION\n\nIn no sphere of life is there more inner division and uncertainty at the\npresent time than in that of religion. To one, the rejection of all\nreligion seems to be indispensable to the sincerity of life and to the\nattainment of healthy conditions, because, as a pernicious legacy from\npast ages, it oppresses our life, confuses our thought, paralyses our\npower of activity, and provokes men to the greatest hatred of one\nanother. To another, on the contrary, religion seems to be the only\nfirm support in face of the needs and confusions of the age--the only\nthing that inwardly unites men and elevates each individual above\nhimself, the only thing that reveals a depth in life and allows life to\nshare in the infinite and the eternal. The adherents to each of these\nviews show the greatest earnestness and zeal; we cannot treat the\nnegation lightly and dispose of it with the convenient catchword\n\"unbelief,\" if only for the reason that on the part of many this\nnegative attitude is due to a sincere anxiety for the truthfulness of\nlife. To rise above this conflict in regard to religion we must, in the\nfirst place, estimate the points at issue impartially; and nothing else\nis more called upon to do this than philosophy.\n\nPhilosophy will not make light of the prostration of religion; for a\nsurvey of history shows that the state of life has undergone a complete\nchange since the epoch when religion exercised an undisputed supremacy.\nAt that time the world and human life received all meaning and value\nfrom their relation to an invisible and supernatural order. The course\nof the Modern Age has made the world that surrounds us ever more\nsignificant, and since man has directed his activity upon this world,\nthe world of faith has been allowed to recede more and more. The\nmovement that led to our present position attained increasing power and\nconsciousness through three stages: at the height of the Renaissance the\ndivine was revered less in its world-transcendent sovereignty than in\nits world-pervading operation; then, the Pantheism of a speculative and\n\u00e6sthetic culture associated the world and God together in one reality;\nfinally, in the investigation of inimitable nature and the formation of\npolitical and social relations the world of sense gives man so much to\ndo, fetters his power so much, and gives him at the same time such a\nproud consciousness of this power, that the conception of a transcendent\nworld fades entirely; and an Agnosticism that rejects as superfluous and\nunfruitful all reflection upon and care concerning such a world gains\nground.\n\nThis change in the direction and in the disposition of life must itself\nhave forced religion more or less out of the field of our attention. But\nit is fraught with far more dangers to religion that the work of the\nModern Age in all its main tendencies is directed against the principles\nof the life upon which the development of religion rests. Modern natural\nscience has dispossessed man of the central position that he formerly\nattributed to himself, and has deprived nature of its soul. The modern\nscience of history, with its demonstration of ceaseless change in all\nthat is human, has undermined the faith in an absolute truth. At the\nsame time, with regard to the beginnings of Christianity, there is a\nwide divergence between the traditional conception of faith and the new\nconception obtained by historical research. The tendency of modern\nculture has been to make the increasing of power, in work upon things\nand in their control, the highest ideal; from the point of view of this\nideal of impersonal power, the world of pure inwardness, the home of\nChristianity, has been able to appear to be simply a subjective and\nsubsidiary accompaniment of the life-process. He who estimates rightly\nthe fact that all these tendencies of modern life work together and\nstrengthen one another cannot fail to recognise that they force religion\nfrom the centre of life to its circumference, and transform it from an\nimpregnable fact into a difficult problem; they destroy that\nself-evidence of religion which previously made life secure and calm.\nIf, however, religion no longer springs up in the consciousness of\ncontemporaries from a necessity of their own life, it is not difficult\nto understand that the complications of the problem are too great for\nmany of them; that the burden of obsolete forms over-balances the power\nof their own impulse, and thus, by a sudden revolution, to reject it\nseems the only way to save truth. Then religion seems to be only a\ndelusion that arose in a past age--a delusion similar to astrology and\nalchemy; one which, in face of growing enlightenment, must ultimately be\ncompletely dispelled.\n\nBut if the philosophic treatment understands the negation rightly, it\ncan only warn us against being hasty in our acceptance of it. To be\nsure, quite apart from all the caprice and purpose of man, the condition\nof life has become very much changed; but it was less the state of\naffairs itself that permitted the changes to clash so irreconcilably\nwith religion than the interpretation which it received and the\nexclusiveness which was attributed to it. The decision in this matter\nhas depended in particular upon what is called the spirit of the age,\nwhich is often nothing more than the inclination and disposition of man;\nsuch inclination, as history shows, may change into the direct opposite;\nit does not form a sure touchstone of truth.\n\nThese considerations, indeed, do not make much headway in opposition to\nthe storm and stress of the movements of the age: that which operates far\nmore strongly in favour of religion is the experience and the feeling\nthat the attempted negation of religion by no means easily and directly\nsolves the problem of life; and, further, that along with religion much\nbecomes untenable to which even the modern man cannot lightly renounce\nall claim. Whatever there may be in religion, it has brought man into\nunion with the deepest basis of reality, and at the same time revealed to\nhim a life of pure inwardness: it has set a task for life as a whole and\nhas given to life a meaning and a value; it has counteracted the lower\nimpulses and the egoism of mere self-preservation; and has organised\nhumanity spiritually. These aims have hardly become superfluous and\nworthless: even without religion, and after abandoning its principles, it\nwould be necessary to accomplish these aims in other ways. It is in the\nattempts at reconstruction that the futility of the negation of religion\nbecomes painfully evident. Phrases concerning the greatness and\nnoble-mindedness of all that bear human features; a blind faith in the\nelevating power of intellectual enlightenment or even of external\norganisation; a confusion of thought which, unobserved, rejects and\nelevates its own principles, and so maintains in the conclusion that\nwhich it rejected in the premises; all these things can deceive him alone\nconcerning the spiritual poverty and the complete powerlessness of what\nis offered in them, whose zeal in his antagonism to religion has deprived\nhim of balance of feeling and impartiality of judgment. If it is inquired\nwhat content and value human life still retains after the surrender of\nall relation to the whole and of all inner relation, it will be\nrecognised that the complete negation of religion consistently carried\nout must lead to an appalling convulsion of human existence as a whole.\n\nBut if such considerations counsel us to be cautious in regard to the\nnegation of religion, they do not justify an adherence to its\ntraditional form. The far-reaching changes of life that we are aware of\ncannot possibly be explained away or their significance lessened; they\nmust be estimated, and brought into relation with religion. The boundary\nbetween the eternal and the temporal, the substance and the outward form\nin religion, has been made uncertain by these changes; in particular\nthey forbid philosophy to treat the religious problem from the point of\nview of a dogmatic confession. The antithesis between Catholicism and\nProtestantism is the offspring of an age that preceded the development\nof modern culture, with all its deep-reaching revolutions. The main\nproblem of religion at the time when the antithesis made its appearance\nwas differently stated from the way in which we now state it. For then\nit was a question whether Christianity was to be formed from society or\nfrom personality; while to-day Christianity fights for its existence as\na whole, and must defend its fundamental truths against a time in which\nactivity is directed into other paths. The present antithesis cannot\npossibly be regarded as ultimately identical with the former one; and it\nis for this reason impossible to take up the present conflict concerning\nreligion under the banner of a particular dogmatic confession. Such an\nante-dating of the conflict also has the disadvantage that it prevents\nthe great antitheses which are involved to-day both in Catholicism and\nProtestantism from being clearly displayed. Two different streams have\nbeen present in Catholicism from its beginning: to the one, the power of\nthe ecclesiastical system is the main thing; while to the other, on the\ncontrary, the religious disposition is of supreme importance. The\ninfluences of modern culture have increased this difference, both\ndirectly and indirectly, and, chiefly outside of Germany, there are\nsigns of the beginning of a stronger movement towards a more inward\nCatholicism. Protestantism carries within it an antithesis of the old\necclesiastical form of religion, which adheres as much as possible to\nthe state of things in the sixteenth century, and a form transformed by\nthe Idealism in modern culture more into the universal, the free, the\npurely human, but also not infrequently into vagueness and superficial\noptimism. But so long as the bitterness of sectarian prejudice diverts\nthe attention of men from the chief thing, these antitheses are not\nclearly expressed and energetically developed. There are serious\ncontradictions involved in these views of religion, and they cannot be\ndeveloped without giving rise to parties. Philosophy must strive with\nall its energy to bring it about that these parties shall be formed in\nrelation to the present situation, and not from the point of view of a\npast age; and that the conflict shall be raised to a higher level, to\ntruth and greatness, by bringing itself into relation with the needs of\nthe age.\n\nThe task of philosophy is not limited to estimating as impartially as\npossible the state of things as we immediately experience it; that task\nalso includes a positive treatment of the religious problem. That which\nis characteristic in the philosophy of life advocated in this treatise,\nNo\u00ebtism, as it might be called, must also find a definite expression and\nshow what capacity it has, in the fulfilment of this task. In accordance\nwith its fundamental relation to history, which has been much discussed,\nNo\u00ebtism cannot make history most important, even in religion, and cannot\nread into history as much as possible of what the present demands; it\nmust regard any such procedure as a weakness and a half-truth. No\u00ebtism\nmust insist upon religion's justifying itself and establishing its\nreality before the tribunal of the spiritual life: only then can the\ntruth that exists in history and that which, through progressive\ndifferentiation, promotes the cause of transcendent truth and brings it\nnearer to humanity as a whole, be elucidated. We have not for a moment\nlost sight of the fact that it is essential to religion to be related\nnot to single individuals but to all; and that religion can evolve no\npower without compelling men to some kind of unity.\n\nNow, for the treatment of the religious problem, No\u00ebtism offers first a\nposition from which demands are made compatible which are otherwise\ndirectly opposed to one another. Religion is concerned with experiences\nwhich at one and the same time must possess a universal character,\nbelong to our own life, and be immediately accessible to each. The\nattempt of speculative philosophy to establish religion by deduction\nfrom the nature of the whole has the required universal character; but\nit introduces religion to the soul from outside, and remains a mere\nintellectual gain. The contrary attempt to base religion in the\nindividual soul developed an inwardness; but this attempt shows that the\nsoul does not know how to build up a world and to contrast it with the\nsubject, to present this world as something transcendent; it makes no\nsure progress beyond the fluctuation and undulation of feeling. Only an\nindependent spiritual life, inwardly present to us, elevates us above\nthis division of subjective feeling and a transcendent world, and\ninaugurates universal experiences in our own domain. How with the\nspiritual life new realities are manifested; how a world-whole which\ntranscends human existence becomes evident, has already been discussed,\nand it is not necessary to make any repetition here. Every\nacknowledgment of an independent spiritual life is favourable to\nreligion in so far as this acknowledgment makes us clearly perceive the\ninadequacy, the illusoriness, and the vanity of all narrowly human\nconduct and occupation, its futility in matters both small and great. So\nlong as attention is fixed on individual matters, and so long as we may\nexpect some improvement in these in the present or in the future, we\nmay not be aware of the futility of this conduct; but as soon as the\nsituation is grasped as a whole and estimated as a whole, such human\nconduct is found to be entirely inadequate, these external aids are\nfound wanting, and there remains only the inexorable \"either--or\":\neither the power of a new world is operative in man, and makes him\nstrong outwardly and inwardly, or the whole life of man is spiritually\nlost--one great delusion, one great error.\n\nIf from the point of view of the spiritual life the contour of a new\nworld is acquired, we may turn back to history, and ask how far it\nindicates a movement which tends in the direction of such a world. The\nspiritual life itself brings a distinctive standard for this inquiry:\nthe fundamental fact is not a single factor within life, but the\nexistence of a self-conscious whole of life, of a spiritual process\nitself. From the point of view of the spiritual life, the chief thing in\nreligions will be the kind of life they reveal; what they make of the\nlife-process; how through the relation to an absolute life they evolve\nthe life-process to a higher stage. Only so far as they express this\nlife-process, and not in themselves, are the doctrines and practices of\nreligion of value.\n\nIf we apply this test to the individual religions, Christianity\ndistinctly shows itself to be far superior to the others. More than any\nof the other religions, Christianity fulfils the demands which are made\nby the nature of the spiritual life and its relation to the world; and\nso far as Christianity satisfies these demands, but not in its\nhistorical form as a whole, it may assert itself to be absolute.\n\nIf Christianity as a religion of redemption requires that we should tear\nourselves from the old world and aspire to a new one, this demand\nreceives a distinctive significance by the more detailed conception\nwhich Christianity forms of it. As evil and that which is to be overcome\nis regarded not, as among the Hindus, as mere appearance, but as moral\nguilt, which disorganises the world, it is not the fundamental reality\nof the world but a particular conception of it that is rejected; and so\nthere remains the possibility of life being given a positive character;\nand in this the main thing is not intellectual enlightenment, but\nradical moral renewal, an elevation into a world of love, grace, and\nreverence. This view of the world makes it impossible to base life\nsimply upon affirmation or negation; but affirmation and negation must\nbe present within it, and thus life is given an inner comprehensiveness\nand an inner movement which it would not otherwise possess. Christianity\nincluded the innermost basis of human life in this movement and\ntransformation, since it not only regarded the divine as influencing the\nhuman by individual manifestations of its power, but proclaimed a\ncomplete union of both, and maintained this through its whole\ndevelopment. A wearied and exhausted age may have formulated this\nfundamental truth in the most unfortunate manner in the doctrine of the\ndivine humanity of Christ; nevertheless, the effectiveness of the truth\ninvolved was not prevented by this. Only from the power of a conception\nof a union of the divine and the human can religion acquire the\ncharacter of pure and complete inwardness, of a spiritual\nself-consciousness: otherwise the relation of the divine and the human\nremains a more or less external one. But this is not the place to trace\nhow the Christian type of life has been visibly embodied in the course\nof history in the personality and the life of its founder, and in the\ncommon labours of centuries, in which the Semitic and Germanic natures\nhave been harmonised, and great peoples and personalities have given\ntheir best to the world: here we may only remark further that the whole\nis not a work completed at one particular point in time, but a\ncontinuous task of all ages; and that, in the fundamental life\ntranscending all mere time, a fixed standard is offered by which to test\nthe achievement of all particular ages, and to differentiate the results\nof the work of history as far as they correspond with the fundamental\ncharacter of religion. Religion must maintain the fundamental character\nof the life that it advocates, in face of all change in the state of\nculture, just as decidedly as for its development in detail it remains\ndependent upon the help of the work of culture.\n\nReligion in the present, therefore, has great and difficult tasks. For\none thing, religion must energetically maintain the supremacy, in\nopposition to modern culture, of the type of life that it advocates. The\nfact that there are points of direct antagonism between the religious\ntype of life and modern culture ought neither to be denied nor in any\nway obscured. On the one hand, we have an ideal of a life of the pure\ninwardness of ethical disposition; on the other, the ideal of spiritual\npower: in the former the tendency is to personal, in the latter to\nimpersonal life: in the one case there is a positive development only by\na complete transformation; in the other the immediate impulse of life is\nthe ruling motive power of the whole. It shows only superficiality and\nconfusion to seek an agreeable compromise between these antitheses; for,\nin truth, either the one or the other must assume the guidance of the\nwhole. The whole course of our investigation permits of no doubt as to\nour own attitude in this matter.\n\nBut it is impossible to defend the supremacy of the type of life\nadvocated by Christianity without recognising the necessity that this\ntype of life must be in a form which appropriates to itself the long\nexperience of humanity and corresponds to the present stage of spiritual\nevolution. The changes necessitated by this evolution are far too great\nfor the traditional form of Christianity to be able to express them; in\norder to develop their own power, and to establish themselves\ntriumphantly in opposition to a hostile world, they must acquire an\nindependent form for themselves.\n\nThere are three kinds of changes that are especially necessary to the\nform of Christianity in the present. (1) The representation of the world\nfound in the older form of Christianity has become absolutely untenable:\nin this matter we must not seek weak compromises between the old and the\nnew, but without fear we must fully acknowledge the elements of fact\nthat exist in the new. We cannot do this unless we make deep changes in\nthe way we regard religion; we must find the courage and the power for\nsuch a renewal. (2) The whole movement of modern life has made us feel\nthat the realities with which traditional religion has to do are far too\ninsignificant and too narrow; a rigid insistence upon them threatens to\ninvolve us in a degeneration to the narrowly human and subjective. The\nconceptions of \"inwardness,\" \"personality,\" and \"morality,\" in\nparticular, need to be interpreted more comprehensively and deeply; the\nsoul's \"being for self\" must be based upon a self-consciousness of the\nspiritual life. Religion must take up the conflict with the world\nspiritually, and through this grow in greatness in its whole effect and\ngovernment. (3) The older form of Christianity was the product of an\nexhausted and faint-spirited age; hence its fundamental attitude is\npredominantly passive and negative. It shows a strong tendency to\ndepreciate human nature, and to leave the salvation of man entirely to\nGod's mercy: in emphasising man's redemption from evil it is apt to\nforget the elevation of his nature toward the good. The joyousness of\nthe Christian life is insufficiently dwelt upon; and the raising of men\nfrom their prostration and perplexities falls short of a restoration to\na free and self-determining activity. What is needed is a thorough-going\nreconstruction which shall emphasise the importance of action and\njoyousness in Christian morality, without in any way weakening the\nopposition to all systems of natural morality based on the rights of\nforce.\n\nIn a word, with all respect to Christianity, we demand its expression in\na new form. We require that Christianity shall identify itself more\ndefinitely with a religion of the spiritual life as opposed to a\nreligion which merely ministers to human frailty, and that it shall show\ngreater decision in casting off the antiquated accessories that hamper\nits movement. We ask that it shall make prominent those simple and\nfundamental features of its system which have value for all time, and in\nthis way restore sincerity and settled confidence to life. We can\nhardly expect that the reunion of man on a religious basis will take\nplace all at once, but it would be a great gain if we could only clearly\nrealise what the oppositions are which still keep us apart. Such insight\nwould help to check that insincerity in religious matters which must\nfirst be got rid of, if there is to be any source of spiritual health in\nus.\n\n\n2. MORALITY.\n\nFrom the perplexities of religion many flee to morality as to something\nsecure and untouched by dissension. The position of morality is, indeed,\ndifferent from that of religion. Of atheists there are many; but there\nare few, if any, who deny the validity of all moral values: that\nfidelity is better than deceit, love better than hate, concerning this\nthere is no dispute. But it is a question how far this agreement extends\nand how much we may gain from it. Within the same sphere of culture at\nleast it is with very little difficulty that we come to agreement in\nrespect of individual matters of morality; if ethical societies limited\nthemselves to practical morality, and did not at the same time wish to\nsettle questions of principle, they would find scarcely any opposition.\nBut, as soon as we comprehend the individual matters as a whole and ask\nfor a foundation for the whole, problem after problem makes its\nappearance, and it soon becomes clear that we can neither establish nor\ndistinctively form morality without a conviction concerning life as a\nwhole and our fundamental relation to reality. If, therefore, there is\nso much uncertainty in the present concerning life as a whole and our\nfundamental relation to reality, we must inevitably become doubtful and\nunclear with regard to morality. In fact, the position may be described\nin this way: we lack a morality which has a secure basis and a definite\ncharacter; in morality, also, after-effects of the past mingle with the\nimpulses of the present; and we are accustomed to conceal the poverty\nof our own possessions by historical knowledge and mere learning--so\nmuch is this the case that we are able even in a state of disgraceful\npoverty to think ourselves rich. There are no less than five types of\nmorality which seek our adherence and the guidance of our soul: we may\nsuppose that in each of these there is some truth, but no single one is\nable to win our acceptance entirely; each leads to a certain point, and\nthen we recognise a limit. We have a religious morality, in which our\nvolition is related to and our destiny is determined by a divine power;\nbut this endangers the spiritual independence of man, and has a strong\ntendency to make his life too passive; besides, in this case, the\nprostration of religion also weakens the power of morality and its power\nto direct life. We have a morality of culture, which directs all power\ntowards increasing the progress of humanity, and subordinates all\nsubjective preference to the requirements of an objective operation and\ncreation; but the ceaselessly increasing differentiation of work makes\nthis form of morality a danger to the soul as a whole; man is in danger\nof being made a mere means and instrument of a soulless process of\nculture. We have a social morality, which makes the welfare of society\nthe chief thing, and which, by strengthening the feeling of solidarity,\nproduces humane efforts in abundance, but is unable to include life as a\nwhole; in this form of morality there is a great danger of\noverestimating external conditions of life, and of levelling and\nweakening life. Certain great thinkers have advocated a morality of pure\nreason, which elevates man above the sphere of the useful and the\npleasant; and gives to him an inner independence; but with all its\ngreatness this morality is too formal and too abstract for us; and,\nbesides, we lack to-day the certainty of an invisible world, which alone\ncan give a secure foundation to this type of morality. Lastly, we have\nan individualistic morality, a morality of beautiful souls, which\nregards the complete development of one's own particular nature, the\nharmonious cultivation of the whole range of one's powers, as the aim\nof conduct, but which not only necessitates individuals who are far\ngreater and far more characteristic in nature than we find in experience\nin general, but also has little power to arouse us to effort, and, if\naccepted exclusively, soon tends to degenerate into a refined\nself-enjoyment and vain self-reflection.\n\nThe presence of all these tendencies and motives in morality subjects us\nto-day to an abundance of ethical stimuli; but it does not give us an\nethic. At the most it conceals the fact that the multiplicity of\nactivities do not form for us a universal task, which could counteract\nthe separation into individuals, parties, particular departments, and\ngive us the consciousness of serving in our work aims that transcend the\nwell-being and preference of mere man. We are in need of a morality that\nproceeds from our own life; and in this we need much more than we are\nconscious of needing. For we have no universal aim that we might take up\nin our disposition, and by which we might test all individual\nactivities; and so life must become disunified and inwardly alien; we\nlose all spiritual relation to the world. The world surrounds us in the\nfirst place as a dark and immovable fate; we do not make ourselves\nmasters of this fate, just because we give ourselves too much to do with\nthings. Rather, to accomplish this, we must transform reality from its\nvery foundation by our own activity and decision; we must wage war\nagainst obscurity and irrationality, and this conflict must tend to\ndivide our whole existence into friend and enemy, good and evil, but\nalong with this first give to life complete activity, and lead it to\nworld-embracing greatness. Only in this way does man, from being simply\na spectator, become a co-operator in the building up of the world; only\nthus does that which occurs within him become in the fullest sense his\nown. Everything which obscures the ethical character of human life\ninvolves, therefore, a loss in greatness and dignity; a degeneration to\na state of servitude, to being a mere part of an alien whole. Particular\nparties may be in agreement with and find satisfaction in this\ncondition; humanity as a whole will not rest content with it. As\ncertainly as humanity confidently maintains that its life has meaning\nand value, so certainly will it take up the problem of morality ever\nanew against all attempted intimidation.\n\nIf to-day we are again to take up this problem, then in the first place\nthe conditions and the requirements of the problem must be quite clear.\nWe can never acquire a morality from the troubled confusion of social\nlife; on the contrary, morality involves a transcendence of this; it\nnecessitates distinctive convictions concerning the world as a whole and\nour position in it. There is no independent morality, no morality in\nitself; morality involves a fundamental whole of life, which is\nappropriated in it and by this appropriation first attains to\nperfection. In contrast to the existing condition of things a new\ncondition must first be raised in ideas that precede conduct. The new\ncondition acquires a moral character only through requiring on the one\nhand moral freedom as opposed to the mechanism of natural impulse, on\nthe other a transcendent ideal in opposition to mere self-preservation.\nThese two together reveal a new order of things distinct from nature;\nthey must seem impossible from the point of view of the world of sense,\nnot only freedom with its apparent annulling of all connections, but\nalso the freeing of conduct from bondage to mere nature. For how would\none conceive an activity that did not tend ultimately to the good of the\nagent, and so aid in his self-preservation? Does it not involve a\ncontradiction for him to exert his power for something alien to himself?\n\nIf in the present we feel such problems in the fullness of their force,\nand if we must fight for morality as a whole, we must go back to the\nfoundations of our existence, and seek primarily for a secure position\nin contrast with the instability of temporal experiences. In accordance\nwith the whole course of our investigation, we can find such a position,\nand by further development a distinctive morality also, only in an\nindependent spiritual life, which first conducts the world to\nself-consciousness and so to genuine reality. The two requirements\ndiscussed above cause no difficulty from the point of view of an\nindependent spiritual life. We convinced ourselves in a previous section\nof the reality of freedom in the spiritual life; in morality also\nconduct can free itself from the natural _ego_ without degenerating into\na state of emptiness, because the spiritual life reveals a new and the\nalone genuine self. Thus here activity is not spent upon something alien\nto us, something presented to it from outside, but is within our own\nbeing, which here, indeed, includes the whole infinity within it.\nActivity in the spiritual life serves true self-preservation, which has\nonly the name in common with natural self-preservation.\n\nWherever it is acknowledged that the spiritual life involves a turning\nof reality to complete independence and spontaneity, morality must take\na significant, indeed the central, position. For it is clear that only\nthe taking up in our own activity and conviction, only complete\nappropriation, can bring life to the highest degree of perfection.\nMorality does not find in existence a life-content which it must convey\nto the individual subject, but is itself within the life-process; a\ncomplete self-consciousness of the spiritual life is attained first in\nmorality, and morality must develop the content of that life. It is not\nthat man in morality turns toward the spiritual life, but that the\nspiritual life elevates itself in the whole of its nature; all human\nmorality must have its basis in a morality of the spiritual life.\n\nWith such a basis in the innermost nature, morality must concern the\nwhole multiplicity of life; it can include and estimate the most diverse\nrelations and experiences of our existence. But whatever is thus brought\nunder the sway of the morality of the spiritual life must undergo an\nessential change, and must be elevated above the nature of that which is\nnot taken up in this manner. By an ethical formation and development of\nart and science we do not mean that the individual should be loyal and\nstraightforward in their pursuit, and should follow honest aims; this\nconception would be much too narrow. But it is that we should take\npossession of and treat as our own life and being that which otherwise\nremains outside as something half alien to us; that the work should\nacquire the power and fervour of self-preservation; and that in this\nunification the necessity of the object becomes a definite demand of our\nlife, and the gain of the object an advance of our life. Only such a\nlife which transcends the antithesis of subject and object gives to the\nobject a soul, and freedom a content.\n\nThe experience of history also makes it clearly evident to us that the\nspiritual life first acquires a secure position and an indisputable\nsupremacy over nature by its acknowledgment and appropriation in\nself-determining activity. For history shows that wherever morality is\nnot central, the spiritual life, even in the midst of the most\nmagnificent results in external matters, languishes inwardly and loses\nits hold. With individuals also the final decision concerning the\nproblems of the world and of life always depends upon whether they do or\ndo not recognise that man has an inner moral task in his nature as a\nwhole. If this is acknowledged, then--and this just in oppositions and\nconflicts--a realm of inwardness is assured us which all apparently\ncontrary experiences of the external world cannot expel from its central\nposition; but if there is no such acknowledgment, the triumph of these\nexperiences and the collapse of the spiritual life cannot be avoided.\n\nThe morality of the spiritual life, as we advocate it, will have\ndistinctive features in comparison with other conceptions of morality;\nof these we can mention but a few here. The acknowledgment of an\nindependent spiritual life makes life as a whole a task, since it\nrequires that as a whole it should be changed into a state of\nself-determining activity; that everything must be aroused and set in\nmotion. Thus the morality of the spiritual life is constructive and\nprogressive, and not simply regulative in character; it is not its\npurpose simply to place life under regulations and to let activity wait\nuntil there is an opportunity to fulfil them; but, calling forth all\nour powers, morality must work and create, arouse and prepare the\nopportunities, so that in everything the realm of the spirit may be\nincreased within the province of humanity. Like the spiritual life\nitself, the morality proceeding from it must be of a transcendent\nnature. To-day or to-morrow may not be considered beyond good and evil;\nmorality may not sink to being a mere means of realising the wishes of\nthe time. If, however, morality transcends time, and is able to separate\nthe transitory and the eternal in time, then, within its task, it may\nvery well acknowledge distinctive situations and problems, and present\ndifferent sides; indeed, only by a close relation with the time and by\npenetrating deeply into the experiences of the time will morality\nacquire the necessary proximity and impressiveness. To this extent,\ntherefore, we also insist upon a modern morality, however decidedly we\nreject that which to-day is called \"modern\" morality, and which for the\nmost part is no more than a surrender of morality to the wishes and\nmoods of the individual.\n\nIf in these features the morality of the spiritual life already\nmanifests a distinctive character, this distinctiveness is further\nincreased by the particular nature of the actual relation of man to the\nmoral task, as it appears here. The highering of the ideal will\nnecessarily increase its divergence from man, as he is. It will become\nquite evident that morality is not a continuation of nature, a natural\nattribute of man, or a product of social relationship, but the most\npronounced expression of a great change in the direction of life, the\ninstitution of a new order of things. If at the same time life is to be\nfashioned morally, a conflict is inevitable; and the general outlook of\nlife and of conduct will depend upon where we find the centre of\nopposition and what is the main direction of the conflict. In the first\nplace, morality must take up a definite attitude towards the\nsense-nature of man; that nature must be subordinated to the aims of the\nspirit. But we have already seen that there is a danger that the ethical\ntask will lose its depth, and that life as a whole will be perverted,\nif the rights of nature are misunderstood and there arises the desire to\nsuppress it completely, and if, in a tendency to asceticism, this\nsuppression is made the chief concern. The chief moral task is the\ndevelopment and establishment of a genuine and real spiritual life, as\nopposed to a false and merely apparent one, which is found in human\nconditions, not only in the state of society but also in the soul of the\nindividual: thus a mere transition from society to the individual can\nnever give any aid. The condition in which life is generally found\nevolves no independent spiritual life; but it uses the spiritual impulse\nthat is present within it simply as a means to other ends, and thus the\nresult is an inner perversion; at the same time man is generally\nzealously occupied with giving himself the appearance of intending to\nfollow the spiritual for its own sake, and of sacrificing everything to\nit. In opposition to such radical insincerity, to acquire a sincere and\ngenuine life is the chief task and the chief desire of morality; for the\nestablishment of sincerity and truth in face of an opposing world the\nsoul needs before all else loyalty and courage.\n\nAnd so morality involves life in a great division: it cannot possibly\ntake up a friendly attitude towards everything and readily admit\neverything: its chief task must be to arouse life from its confusion and\napathy. But this does not prevent a morality of the spiritual life\nstriving for universality in its inner nature. The morality of the\nspiritual life must, therefore, establish a definite relationship on the\nbasis of the present with the prevailing types of morality which were\npreviously mentioned. If the morality of the spiritual life is certain\nof its own nature, it is quite possible for it to recognise a certain\nvalidity in every other kind of morality without degenerating into a\nfeeble eclecticism. The relation that we recognised between the\nspiritual life and religion also makes religion valuable to morality:\nthe moral significance of culture may be especially acknowledged where a\nuniversal character is desired for the spiritual life; the relation of\nman to man may also become inwardly important where it is necessary to\nthe inner construction of the life of society. Again the morality of the\nspiritual life fully agrees with the demand for an independence of\nmorality and for an elevation above narrowly human aims, in the manner\nthat the morality of reason advocates; finally, individuality also can\nobtain its due in the spiritual life. All this, however, is valid only\nwith the presupposition that we acquire a position above the antitheses\nof experience and not between them, and an inner independence in\nrelation to the chaos of time. Only from this position and this\nindependence can we advance in any way, even within time.\n\n\n3. EDUCATION AND INSTRUCTION\n\nEducation and instruction are especially affected by the difficulties\nthat are engendered by the lack of a main tendency in life and of a\ntranscendence of the superficiality of time. For the lively interest\nwhich its questions provoke, the incalculable amount of work and\nactivity that is called forth in this department, do not produce their\nfull result, because we do not possess enough life of our own of a\ndefinite character to be able to test and sort, to clarify and deepen,\nthat which is presented to us. And so in conflict with one another we\nuse up much power without making much progress in the most important\nmatter.\n\nEducational reform is the catchword, but we have no philosophy of\neducation that is based upon a securely established conviction\nconcerning life as a whole, and we trouble ourselves very little to\nobtain one. We wish to improve education, and yet we have not come to an\nunderstanding with regard to its ideals, its possibility, and its\nconditions. Education must be fundamentally different in character,\naccording as man is regarded as a particular and exclusively individual\nbeing, or as a being in whom a new and universal life seems to emerge;\naccording as he is only an elevated being of nature or in the highest\ndegree possible a spiritual being; according as the higher proceeds from\nthe lower gradually and surely after the manner of organic growth, or we\nmust find a new starting-point and accomplish a revolution. Further, an\nindividualistic training, as it dominated the classical systems of\npedagogy, is no longer sufficient; the relation to society must also be\nfully appreciated, and be effective. But attention to this requirement\ninvolves us in the danger of treating the problem of education too\nexternally, and of bringing all more or less to the same level; and this\ndanger must be overcome. Yet how can it be overcome, unless we possess\nsecurely a depth, unless we acknowledge the presence of the infinite\nwithin the human being, as it is comprehended in our conviction of the\nspiritual life?\n\nThe form of instruction suffers from the ceaseless onflow of new\nmaterial, the constant increase in the number of claims. In itself each\nsingle demand may be quite justifiable; but whether it is better than\nthe others can be decided only from an idea which governs the whole. If\nno such idea exists, a gain in the individual departments may be a loss\nto the whole; and an enrichment in one department may lead to a decline\nof the whole. In face of that which has been handed down from the past\nand that which arises in the present, it is difficult to come to a\nbalanced judgment; the parties may be right in their attacks one upon\nanother, but this does not imply that they are right in their own\nassertions. The immediate impression tends to give the balance in favour\nof the requirements of the present; from the point of view of the\nimmediate impression, all occupation with the past may appear to be a\nflight from the living to the dead. The advocate of the claims of\nhistory may reply to this that man as a spiritual being is not a child\nof the mere moment, and that we concern ourselves with the past not on\naccount of what is transitory in it, but for its eternal content. But he\nwho thinks thus must throw the eternal content into relief and separate\nit sharply from that which is simply temporal; he must establish a\nrelation between this content and his own life, and make that which is\nexternally alien his inward possession. This does indeed come to pass in\na few cases; but can we say that it comes to pass generally or\npredominantly? We Germans in particular have far too strong a tendency\nto substitute scholarly occupation for inner animation, and instead of\nspiritual substance to offer academically correct knowledge. It is\ntherefore not without good reason if Classical Antiquity does not so\nmuch inspire as weary our youth; yet the blame for this does not rest\nupon Antiquity, but on ourselves, and upon the manner in which we treat\nit with calm scholarship, without transforming it into our own\npossession. For how could that influence the whole man which does not\ncome from the whole man? Everything points again and again to the same\nthing--we lack spiritual independence, inner transcendence of history\nand environment, we lack a characteristic life as a whole. The contact\nwith the incalculable abundance of impressions that we experience must\ntherefore remain an external one; and with all our increasing wealth of\nknowledge we threaten to become spiritually poorer.\n\n\n(b) SCIENCE AND PHILOSOPHY\n\nScience, with its innumerable branches and its powerful penetration of\nlife, is indisputably a strong feature of the age. Its effect is not\nexhausted in the abundance of particular achievements; by the\nobjectivity of its work it has brought the world much nearer to us, has\nled our life to greater clearness, has made us more alert, and given us\na secure dominion over things. Science, therefore, must also be a factor\nin the determination of a philosophy of life, and must raise the whole\nposition of man. Of course, as soon as we survey and estimate its work\nfrom the life-process we find that there is no lack of difficult\nproblems in science. Since the magnificent results of the natural\nsciences often give rise to the tendency to force their particular bent\nand methods on the human sciences, to which our conception of the\nspiritual life gives a characteristic sphere of their own, there is a\ndanger that the balanced development of the individual sciences and the\ncomplete organisation of what is distinctive in them will be prevented.\nHowever, we do not lack energetic resistance of this danger; and\nultimately it is less science itself than the movement to popularise it\nthat falls into this danger. Further, the results of science with regard\nto the object easily tend to obscure the subjective element, the\nspiritual activity, the characteristic synthesis, which forms an\norganised collection of pieces of knowledge into the unity of a science.\nIt is apt to appear as though science needs only to construct further on\na given basis and in a given direction; while both of these are open to\nmuch dispute: different possibilities, prospects, types may be revealed;\nthe work of history has run through different stages, and has certainly\nnot already exhausted its possibilities. Nevertheless, the subjective\nelement with its freedom, mobility, and many-sidedness is becoming more\nadequately appreciated, and there is no reason to fear that science will\nbecome dogmatically pursued in paths that have become fixed. Finally,\nthe problem of the relation of thought to life is the source of much\nperplexity: we Germans, for example, have a strong tendency to take mere\nknowledge for inner appropriation of the object, and instead of\nspiritual substance to offer an abundance of scholarship. This, however,\nis not a defect in science itself, but an error on the part of man, who\nhas no life of his own with which to meet the onflow of impressions from\nthe environment; and so our estimate of science and our acknowledgment\nof its magnificent achievement cannot be affected by this charge.\n\nPhilosophy is in quite a different position: its present state cannot\nsatisfy anyone who seeks rather for a universal science than for an\nacademic discipline. For our philosophical efforts lack a common aim and\nclose relation with the innermost need of the time; they do not even\nshow any definite and energetic attempt to overcome the confusion from\nwhich our world of thought suffers. A great stream of philosophic effort\ncame to an end with the speculative philosophy of the first decade of\nthe nineteenth century. After a temporary ebb of this philosophic\neffort, we now wish to take up the work again with fresh power, but we\nhave not yet acquired inner independence; and therefore, in sifting and\ncollecting, we are unable to direct the age to definite aims, or\nradically expel the inconsistencies into which an indefinite relation to\nthe past has led the present.\n\nThere are three main streams of thought which come to us from the past,\nand we can neither completely take them up nor withdraw ourselves from\nthem: the Enlightenment, with its philosophic summit in Descartes; the\ncritical philosophy of Kant; and speculative philosophy, with its\nconsummation in Hegel. It has been thought that the Enlightenment, with\nits starting out from the subject, its unadorned intellectualism, its\nformal ratiocination, its rejection of everything that is not\ncomprehended in clear and distinct ideas, was transcended at the height\nof German classical literature, because at that time a life rich in\ncontent was set in contrast with it. But, as a fact, no adequate\nsettlement with the Enlightenment has been arrived at; the supposed\ntranscendence is not final, because the elements of truth in the\nEnlightenment, especially its turning from history to the immediacy and\nindependence of spiritual life, were not properly acknowledged. But\nto-day it is less the elements of truth of the Enlightenment that are a\nforce than that which is trivial and narrowly human in it--the\nratiocination of the subject which, the more empty it is, the more it\nfeels itself to be the measure of all things, and, rejoicing in\nnegation, applies the results of the natural sciences in an attempt to\nbring about the greatest possible suppression of all spiritual\nrelations. In this form the Enlightenment gains acceptance by the\nmasses, which formerly had seemed inaccessible to it; and thus it\nbecomes an instrument by which life is dissipated and made shallow.\nFrom its position of research, philosophy looks down upon this tendency\nwith contempt; but it produces no movement that is able to take up the\nstruggle with this tendency to shallowness, and pass through the\nstruggle victoriously. Kant is often lauded as the spiritual guide of\nour time; and it is overlooked how much that was certain for him has\nbecome doubtful; how many new facts, new problems, new prospects, which\ncannot be lost to the world of thought we have received from the\nnineteenth century with its historico-social culture and its\noverwhelming widening of the horizon. Kant's critique of the reason is\nbased on a conception of science; on a faith in the possibility of a\nknowledge of truth; on a conviction of a spiritual organisation of man,\nwhich are rather in contradiction than in harmony with the main\ntendencies of the present. His absolute ethic, the pillar of his\nconstructive thought, is incompatible with the empirical and social\ntreatment of morality to which the present does homage. But at the same\ntime we cannot free ourselves from the influence of Kant. For we cannot\nrefute his critique of the reason, breaking up, as it does, the old\nrepresentation and conception of truth; and, without his ethic, our\nethic would lose the appearance of truth and greatness. In the judgment\nof the present, Hegel experiences a treatment that is just the opposite\nof that which Kant receives: if in reference to the latter we do not\nnotice what divides us, so in reference to the former we fail to\nrecognise what joins us. For if Hegel's exaggeration of the power of the\nhuman spirit and his identification of spirit and thought appear alien\nto us, yet his idea of evolution, which embraces all multiplicity, and\nrepresents all realities and conceptions as in a state of flux; his\nelevation of spiritual factors to the form of independent powers which\ndevelop and establish their own necessities undeterred by the preference\nof man; his emphasis on the fact of the power of contradiction and\nopposition in history--all this, often in spite of our own conceptions,\nexerts an enormous influence over us; and we cannot shake it off\nwithout surrendering a considerable portion of our spiritual possession.\n\nThese tendencies all whirl confusedly together and draw us now in one\ndirection, now in another; we can get beyond the state of decadence only\nwhen we have succeeded in giving to the world of thought an independent\ncharacter, which corresponds with the spiritual condition of the\npresent, and which can do justice to the old as well as the new\nexperiences. After the whole course of our investigation, only a brief\naccount is necessary to indicate the directions the system of life here\nadvocated points out to reach this; a fuller treatment would make a\nparticular theory of knowledge necessary. We must bring into prominence\nthree of the chief points.\n\n(1) Only the life-process can be the starting-point of philosophy, not\nsome kind of being more ultimate than this process, whether we conceive\nof such being as an external world or as a subject existing independent\nof the world: the ideas of \"world\" and \"subject,\" as also that of\n\"being,\" can be evolved and made clear only within the life-process; at\nthe same time, they remain in a state of flux, and never are so directly\nopposed to one another as modern thought has represented them as being.\nPhilosophy, with this starting-point, would, however, attain an\nindependence in relation to the special sciences only if it were\npossible within the life-process to form a unity and a distinctive\nsynthesis, which should deepen our view of reality and set it as a whole\nin a new light. (2) Such a synthesis must transcend the state of change\nof all the relations and caprice of men; this is possible only by the\nrevelation and appropriation of an independent spiritual life withdrawn\nfrom the life of sense. Without such a spiritual life there is no\nrelease from the chaos of subjective experiences and opinions; only from\nthe position of the spiritual life is it possible for a spiritual\noccurrence to be revealed in the province of man, so that we do not need\nto infer from man to the world, but that within him a universal life can\nbe immediately experienced. (3) As, on the one hand, the spiritual life\nis an indispensable presupposition, so on the other it is an infinite\ntask; the former as far as the fundamental fact is concerned, the latter\nin reference to its detailed content. This content can be acquired only\nthrough the movement of history as a whole; thus a constructive\nphilosophy--and not merely a critical one--could arise only where the\nspiritual life as a whole had acquired a characteristic form. In this\ncase, philosophy was not simply an offspring of life, not merely\nsomething for life to occupy itself with. By its demand for a thorough\nclarification of our ideas and life, and by its raising the question of\nabsolute truth, philosophy has exercised no little influence upon the\nprogress of life. But that which it achieved of a fruitful nature, it\nachieved not in detachment from, but only in relation to, life, and by\ninteraction with it, however much this relation may be concealed at the\nfirst glance.\n\nSuch a connection of philosophy with life as a whole is by no means new;\nit has existed in all times. Never has the world of thought acquired a\ndistinctive character except in close relation with life as a whole: it\nis only from life as a whole that thought has received its problems, the\nnature of its procedure, and the demarcation of its work. A survey of\nthe history of philosophy makes it evident that the leading thinkers\ndiffer mostly, and differ from the beginning, in that which they regard\nas the essence of life. In what they regard as the essence of life they\nhave found the firm point of support for their work; from that the\ndirection of their research has been determined; and from that the\nquestions arose to which they required an answer from the universe. And\nwe all know that in these matters the question often implies more than\nthe answer, that it often carries the answer within itself.\n\nIf, therefore, this connection of philosophy with the life-process\nsignifies an old and indisputable truth, this truth is not sufficiently\nacknowledged. Its adequate acknowledgment gives rise to a new situation;\nindeed, it tends to the development of a new type of philosophy. With\nthe critical tendency of the Modern Age, this type shares the desire not\nto surrender thought to a state of defencelessness in face of the stream\nof appearances, but would primarily concentrate it in itself, and in an\ninner independence find a standard for all further undertaking. But this\nattainment of independence in thought is not accomplished by turning to\nthe mere subject, but to a central occurrence, transcending the\nantithesis of subject and object. If thought cannot begin from such an\noccurrence, and understand the movement of life as an unfolding and\nperfecting of this comprehensive occurrence, then there is no truth for\nman. Truth, as a relation of two series absolutely alien to each other,\nis an absolutely nonsensical conception: truth must be immanent, in the\nsense that one life embraces both subject and object, and that in the\nmovement of life there is as much a coming together of subject and\nobject as a coming together of activity from the centre and from the\ncircumference.\n\nThat in this we have to do with a peculiar formation of knowledge and\nnot with a merely formal modification is shown by the following\nconsiderations. If thought, in the manner previously supposed, takes its\nstarting-point in a world existing independently of the subject, then in\norder to subordinate reality spiritually thought will comprehend it in\nthe most general conceptions. Ultimately, the being of things will be\nsought in formal ontological magnitudes, as, for example, in \"pure\nbeing.\" If the whole abundance of reality appears to be derived simply\nfrom these general conceptions, it is in danger of being transformed\ninto nothing but schemes and shadows, and of losing all genuine life.\nIf, as opposed to this, the subject alone is taken as the\nstarting-point, then more life and more movement is indeed assured, and\na more varied prospect will be acquired, but there is no possibility of\ndistinguishing between that which is only contingent to the individual\nand that which forms a common inner world; there is no possibility of a\nrejection of the narrowly human, or even of extricating a realm of ideas\nfrom the abundance of impressions: if in the former case knowledge lost\nall content, in the present case it threatens to be completely\ndissolved. If, further, on the one hand abstract universal conceptions,\nand on the other the subjective states of individuals, form the stem of\nknowledge, then neither in one nor in the other does the fullness of\nspiritual reality attain its due--the reality that exists in the\nbuilding up of a genuine spiritual culture. But in the type of\nphilosophy advocated by us this is the chief thing; since in contrast to\nthe psychological and the cosmological treatment this philosophy\ndevelops a no\u00f6logical treatment, and sees the central domain of\nphilosophical research in the elucidation and unification of facts\nwhich, in the construction of a spiritual world in the province of man,\nappear in the whole and in every branch. In this connection the\nconception of fact is something more ultimate and universal in its\nrelations; but it is just that which makes it more valuable for the\nconviction as a whole.\n\nThis conception of its task will bring philosophy into a closer relation\nwith personal life, as well as with the work of history, without making\nit the mere instrument either of the one or the other. Otherwise it\nwould seem irrational, and a tendency from which one must free oneself\nas much as possible, that in philosophy, personality, not only in\ncreative activity but also in appropriation, signifies so much. The\nobject, on the contrary, acquires a positive value, if we are certain\nthat the standard of life is ultimately also the standard of knowledge;\nif with this the degree of the development of life at a particular point\nnecessarily decides the nature of the work of thought there achieved.\nThe near relation of the thinker to the proximate and the more distant\nculture environment is explained from this position in a manner no less\nsatisfactory: the relation can then remain close, even if in the first\nplace it appears to be one of conflict and opposition. Similarly, the\nwhole movement of history acquires a greater significance for knowledge;\nfar-reaching changes of life transform the temporal situation, since\nthey permit us to experience, see, and seek something else; all these\nchanges, however, demand from thought an attention to and an\nappreciation of the whole. Nothing other than this is involved in the\nrequirement that thought must correspond with the historical state of\nspiritual evolution.\n\nThis acknowledgment of personal and of historical life by philosophy\nmakes it intelligible why philosophy manifests so much diversity and\nopposition, and why on the surface it shows so little unity. Where the\nconviction of an independent spiritual life rules, the faith in a unity\nof truth can be shaken by this fact just as little as the courage to\ncreative activity can be paralysed. The basing of thought upon the\nspiritual life also has the advantage that the main types of thought can\nbe derived from the different positions which may be taken up towards\nthe spiritual life, and thus a limit may be set to the otherwise\nindefinite abundance. From this point of view there are for us five\nchief types of thought and world-conception. Minds first divide on the\nquestion whether we can unify life at all, and at the same time whether\nwe may venture to make an assertion concerning reality as a whole. He\nwho rejects this as impossible and readily surrenders himself to the\nconflict of immediate impressions might be called an indifferentist. If,\nhowever, a striving towards unity is admitted, then the question whether\na spiritual life with a reality and values of its own in contrast with\nnature may be acknowledged or not becomes the point of decision, and the\nbasis of division into opposing camps. He who gives a negative answer to\nthe question, and regards nature as the whole of reality, becomes an\nadvocate of Naturalism. He, however, who answers in the affirmative, and\nmay be called an idealist, is immediately confronted with a new problem.\nHe cannot acknowledge the spiritual life without at the same time giving\nit the supremacy; but now the doubt arises whether this supremacy may be\neasily and peacefully established, or whether it meets with strong\nopposition. When the existence of these oppositions is denied, or they\nare regarded as being easy to overcome, there grows up an optimistic,\ncontemplative form of Idealism, which to the holders of other forms\ninevitably seems abstract and shallow. If, on the contrary, the\noppositions are fully acknowledged, the final division originates with\nthe question whether finally we are to submit to the state of stagnation\nbrought about by these oppositions, or whether by some kind of\nreinforcement of the counteraction to this state of stagnation life may\nonce more be set in progress: the former gives rise to Scepticism and\nPessimism, the latter to Activism, as it has been discussed by us in an\nearlier section. It is easy to see what distinctive lines of conflict\nand what kinds of conflict must arise between the indifferentist, the\nnaturalistic thinker, the optimist, the sceptic, and the activist.\nHowever, we cannot allow this to detain us; it must, nevertheless, be\npointed out here, that in philosophy the possibilities are not yet\nexhausted, and that to avail ourselves of these possibilities nothing is\nmore necessary than a close relation of its work with the life-process,\nand a firmer grounding in the independent spiritual life.\n\n\n(c) ART AND LITERATURE\n\nNowhere does modern life throb more violently and more strongly than in\nart and literature. That which in this department has a claim to\npermanence acquires especial power from the fact that this department\nhad to establish itself anew in opposition to an attempt to curtail it.\nFor who could deny that a culture of work and of utility had a tendency\nto reduce artistic literary creation to the position of an accompaniment\nand a fringe of another kind of life, to a diversion for idle hours? The\nmore we feel the limitations of the life of work and utility the more do\nart and literature become independent tasks. From art and literature we\nexpect more lightness, more agility, and more joy in life; they should\nconduct life from too great an attention to externals to\nself-consciousness, and in this way give life a soul. They should\nstrengthen individuality in opposition to the levelling tendency of the\nculture of the masses, wrest simple fundamentals from chaotic confusion\nof life, and aid the time in reaching a comprehensive vital-feeling and\na synthesis transcending its inconsistencies. In opposition to that\nwhich oppresses us and degrades us to instruments of a meaningless\nmachinery, we desire some kind of province where life rests in itself\nand purposes nothing else but itself; where it springs up with complete\nspontaneity; and where it can express itself with complete freedom, and\nin this expression find its highest joy.\n\nFrom such a longing a new art that permeates our life has arisen. Art\nmust seek new means of expression for the new situation; it cannot serve\nthe development of a new life-content without bringing about liberation\nfrom all conventional statutes; it cannot prevent a threatened tendency\nof life to become stagnant without desiring a fully free place for the\nsubject, and for the development of his individuality. He who sees\nchiefly the dangers in everything forgets that nothing new and great can\narise without bringing dangers with it.\n\nFrom the point of view of the system that we champion, we can quite well\nunderstand the significance of the \u00e6sthetic movement of the present,\nacknowledge the deliverance of life which it has accomplished, and in\ngeneral we can go a good distance with it. But there comes a point where\nthe courses diverge; not because we think less of the capacity of art,\nbut we believe that we think more highly of its task. This deliverance\nfrom the culture of work, this turning to individuality, promises an\nessential elevation of life only if a new kind of being, a new world, is\nable to break forth in the soul that depends upon itself; if the\nindividual in his conflicts aids the development of the infinite life;\nif, through all transformations and prostrations, man wins an inner\nrelation to the whole and to things, and by this grows beyond the\nnarrowly human.\n\nIf this does not come to pass, the movement remains on the surface of\nsense experience and related to the activity and occupation of mere man;\nand so it cannot make anything higher or essentially new of us; it\nremains subject to the oppositions of the age instead of becoming\nsuperior to them. We are, indeed, enriched by the most diverse forms of\nexpression: even the most concealed circumstances, the most delicate\npulsations of the soul, cannot withdraw themselves from being\nrepresented. None the less, the description of the world-environment\nacquires the most striking clearness and penetration, and in the\nincalculable wealth of individual forms of art virtuosi are not lacking\nat whose capacity of execution we are astonished. But all this gives to\nart no spiritual content and no real greatness. It can, indeed, bring an\ninexhaustible abundance of stimuli to bear upon individuals and spread a\nshiny gloss over existence and life, but it cannot raise life\nessentially. The care of the mere individual, with his changing\ncircumstances, prevents art from taking up sufficiently the problems of\nthe present situation as a whole; of the spiritual condition of humanity\nas a whole.\n\nAnd so art in this form is not able to grasp the epoch with its\nspiritual movement as a whole, and to further humanity in the struggle\nfor spiritual existence, in which to-day all individual problems are\nincluded. Humanity is in a serious crisis; the old foundations of life\nare about to give way, and the new are not yet secured. The world has\nrejected the standards which man had imposed upon it; it turns against\nhim, and leaves him nothing more in particular. To be assured of a\ndistinctive significance man needs a strengthening, and at the same time\nan aroused reflection forbids him all help from outside. The fact that\nthat which is hostile and threatens to degrade and to annihilate man\ntakes possession of his own province of life and penetrates into it\ngives a particular acuteness to these problems. We are not only\nsurrounded externally by a dark fate, but our soul also degenerates in\nit, and becomes more and more a soulless mechanism. Indeed, our own\nactivity becomes the most dangerous opponent of the soul, since in\nforming and taking part in complexes of work which ever become greater\nit turns against us and takes the soul from the soul.\n\nAn art which has its basis in the individual and which does not advance\nto spiritual substance cannot possibly prevent the threatened\ndissolution of life. Even the most wonderful expression of disposition,\neven the most delicate and most fluid representations of conditions, do\nnot free us from the chaos of the time: they might easily bind us still\nmore strongly to it, since they weaken the power, indeed the tendency to\nenergetic concentration, and increase the tendency to degenerate into a\nstate of weakness and decay; while to overcome these dangers it is\nnecessary primarily to increase our activity, to win again an active\nrelation to reality. Art cannot free itself from that condition of\nfeebleness without entering into a close relation with the central task\nof life and acknowledging a spirituality transcending the subjective\ncircumstances and interests of mere man. If these requirements are not\nsatisfied, no talent can prevent a decline of art into a more refined\nEpicureanism.\n\nBut where such a spiritual life is acknowledged, and at the same time\nthere arises the task of winning for man a new life, a new spiritual\nreality, art inevitably acquires a great significance, and becomes\nabsolutely indispensable. Without the liberation which it brings, and\nits presentation of things in a harmony, how could a whole with definite\ncharacter be raised? How could the new that hovers before us acquire\nform and exert a penetrating power without the help of a constructive\nimagination which precedes its realisation? How could the soul's\ninnermost experience permeate life as a whole, and ennoble its whole\nstructure without the help of art? The higher we place the ideal of\nlife, the more does the spiritual content which immediate existence\nmanifests become a mere sense form, the more is \u00e6sthetic activity\nnecessary to prevent disunion of life, in the midst of all oppositions\nto give it some kind of unity, and in the midst of the passion of\nconflict some rest within itself. But, to achieve this, art may not\npurpose to form an oasis in a wilderness of life, but, hand-in-hand with\nother activities, must fight for spiritual experience and a genuine\nmeaning of life as a whole.\n\n\n(d) POLITICAL AND SOCIAL LIFE\n\nTo treat of the complicated problems of the political and social life of\nthe present does not come within our purpose; we can consider them only\nso far as the task of the construction of an independent spiritual world\nis affected either for good or evil by the nature of their solution.\n\nIn contrast to the epoch of the Enlightenment, the nineteenth century\nbrought about a transition from the individual to society: social life\nhas developed in numerous branches, has disclosed a superabundance of\nnew facts, and has set us new tasks. But this development has also\nbrought much perplexity with it. It becomes evident in this development\nalso, that each spiritual movement that attains power experiences in its\nfurther course limitations, and is degraded by its contact with human\nconditions. Along with the social movement there has been the\noften-discussed change by which life from being centred in an invisible\nworld becomes occupied with the visible one, and by which all\ndepartments of life are given a naturalistic, realistic character and\ntendency. There has been no lack of opposition to the movement to make\nsociety the first consideration; the opposition has gone even so far as\nto dispute the right of the whole. Further, the earlier and the later\nconception of society, the idealistic and the realistic, are often\nconfused; and from this confusion contradictions arise that not only\nconfuse our ideas but also degrade our life. There is a danger that a\nzealous and excited occupation with nothing but individual tasks may\ntake our attention from the whole, and that the problems which the inner\ncondition of man involves may not obtain due consideration.\n\nThis turning to society is most manifest in the powerful advance of the\nstate. In this, an inner longing for a more social life, as Hegel\nespecially philosophically advocated it; and actual changes of\nconditions operated together, and strengthened one another. The more\ndefinite manifestation of individuality on the part of nations and the\nsharper division between them; the active interest of wider circles in\npolitical problems; the mechanical organisation of work, with its more\nexact differentiation and its more rigid organisation of forces; but\nprimarily the longing, which grows out of the ceaselessly increasing\neconomical and social perplexities, for a power superior to the parties\nin dispute and acting as arbitrator--all these have immeasurably\nincreased the power of the state in different degrees among different\npeoples, but in general through the whole civilised world.\n\nThe freedom of the individual, therefore, cannot but suffer from\nmanifold limitations; there arises a danger that the individual may\ngradually lose all initiative, and expect all stimulation from the\nstate. The spontaneity and the wealth of life suffer from the tendency\nto increase the power of the state, and a bureaucracy which delights in\ncorrect forms, but which spiritually is entirely unproductive, indeed\neven indifferent, appropriates more and more to itself. The substance of\nthe spiritual life is also threatened by the fact that the omnipotent\nstate is inclined to treat that life, with all its branches, as a mere\nmeans in the attainment of its own particular aims; to look upon science\nand art, and chiefly religion and education, especially with regard to\nthat which they achieve for the aims of the state, and to shape them as\nmuch as possible in accordance with these aims. There is also a strong\ntendency to follow the same course to accomplish the ends of the\ncontemporary form of government. An independent and genuine spiritual\nlife can hardly offer too great an opposition to such a perversion,\nwith its deification of human forms. But the matter is by no means\nsimple; for not the will of single individuals and parties, but the\nwhole tendency of modern life has given this power to the state; indeed,\non the economic side the state will soon experience a further increase\nof power. The more the guidance on this side belongs to the state, the\nmore necessary is a free movement of spiritual culture in opposition to\nit; the more urgent is the demand that the amalgamation of church and\nstate should be discontinued--an amalgamation which, by the growing\ndisputes that arise from it, forces religion into an undignified\nposition; the more definitely is a greater independence to be desired\nfor school organisation in all its branches. The Germans especially have\nmuch to do in this matter; and there is much at stake. For, with the\nlimitations of our spatial extension, we can be a permanent determining\nfactor in world-culture only by giving our culture the greatest\nintensity; but this requires a calling forth of the complete power and\nof the spontaneity of individuals. Ultimately, in this matter also, the\nchief thing proves to be the taking up again of central problems and the\nrealisation of human being in its innermost depths as an unconditional\nend in itself and the bearer of an infinite life. No conception can\nguard us from sinking to the position of puppets of the soulless\nmechanism of the state, if we do not find the power to give soul to our\nlife and to maintain it against all attempted limitation.\n\nThe longing for more freedom and independence has therefore an\nindisputable validity. But this acknowledgment may easily lead to new\ncomplications by freedom and independence being conceived in a manner\nmuch too external, and also by a really questionable association of\nthese ideas with the problem of equality. The conviction of the modern\nman concerning the world on the one hand, and the demands of life on the\nother, are often in direct contradiction with regard to the conception\nof equality. We become aware of our limitation on all sides: we are\nrepresented simply as a product of heredity and environment: all\npossibility of making a decision for ourselves is rejected as a\ndelusion. If thus we are deprived of all independence and all\nspontaneity of life, then even in social life we shall become mere\nbearers of a _r\u00f4le_ imposed upon us by a dark fate. One does not see how\nfreedom could retain a value, arouse enthusiasm, and lead to sacrifice\nin such a case. If the whole is a soulless mechanism, in which only the\nexcess of existent power is the cause of decisions, then we ourselves\ncannot be exceptions.\n\nOther complications have their origin in the democratic tendency which\npermeates not only our political endeavour but also our whole life of\nculture. How far-reaching a change, indeed how complete a revolution,\nhas been accomplished by this tendency in opposition to a condition of\nthings which has stood for hundreds or rather thousands of years, is but\nseldom fully appreciated. In the earlier form of social life spiritual\nwork was the chief matter only of a limited and exclusive circle; to the\npeople as a whole it was only secondary, and the benefit that they\nreceived from it was often of the most meagre character. Even the\nReformation left this aristocratic form of life as it was; for as\ncertainly as it made the care for every individual member of the church\nmore urgent, that care was bestowed from above in an authoritative\nmanner. The earlier Enlightenment, as it was represented, for example,\nby Bayle, was of the conviction that the deliverance from delusion and\nsuperstition would always be limited to a small circle of those standing\nspiritually high, and would never reach the masses. We know how this has\nchanged; how the masses are determined to form a mere dependent body of\nthe so-called higher classes no longer, but to take the problem of life\nindependently into their own hands, and how they obtain their\nrepresentation of the world and the task of their life from that which\nis more immediately present to them and directly concerns their welfare;\nand how in this way they are inclined to look upon themselves as the\nwhole of humanity. We have already referred to the danger that culture\nas a whole will thus be made shallow--a danger that arises from the fact\nthat here the decision is made by those who scarcely participate in the\nwork of history, and who depend almost entirely upon the immediate\nimpression. Further, we have already contended that only a\nsimplification and rejuvenation of culture are able to cope with this\ndanger. The fact is important that this democratic movement appeals to\nthe equality of all who bear human features. Here again there appears to\nbe a direct contradiction between theoretical conviction and actual\nconditions. Experience everywhere shows a pronounced inequality among\nmen; it shows this not only in the traditional social relationships but\nalso in the organisation of modern industry. More, however, than all\nsocial arrangements, nature shows the greatest inequality amongst men;\nand the actual relation of individuals in work and idleness, in love and\nhate, in independent thinking and blind subordination shows it none the\nless. From the point of view of experience the idea of equality seems to\nbe an empty phrase. If it is more than this, if we recognise in it a\ntruth that we cannot afford to lose, then it implies the conviction that\nhumanity has spiritual relations; that each has a significance in a\nspiritual nature, and that there is a universal life present everywhere\nwhich opposes the guilt and folly of the individual and even in spite of\nhimself gives him a value. Thus we have seen that in history, religion\nand ideal culture were the first to bring the idea of equality into good\nrepute. But to-day the champions of equality turn with particular\nkeenness against religion and ideal culture, and are not aware that in\nso doing they are destroying the foundations of their own belief.\n\nThese inconsistencies are not felt, chiefly because of the power which\nabstractions usually exercise over men in the present day. A faith in\nabstractions reigns amongst us which is capable of far greater things\nthan faith in religion or faith in reason. We are surrounded by the\nbustle of a fierce and ceaselessly increasing struggle for existence:\nideas are overgrown by interests; the motives of people in general are\ntrivial, and all spiritual aspiration is feeble, and along with this\nthere is an unutterable amount of pretence which permeates and distorts\nall conduct. Yet the disagreeable aspect of this condition seems to\nvanish as soon as the mere word \"humanity\" is mentioned. But what is\nhumanity from the point of view of Naturalism other than a collection of\nbeings of nature? How can a power to elevate and to strengthen proceed\nfrom this conception, which in the naturalistic context signifies no\nmore than the subjective unification of the individuals? Or, again, the\nidea of a ceaseless progress of humanity is placed in opposition to the\nconfusions which exist in the present. But how can this idea be\nestablished if a compelling reason is not active within man? How could\nthe present be so incomplete and so full of perplexity as it seems,\nespecially to the advocates of the idea of progress, if century after\ncentury had made progress upon progress? Rather, if man has such a noble\nnature as he is assumed to have, life should be full of reason and\nbliss. The old faith saved man by resorting to an invisible world; it\nrequired a firm confidence in that which one did not see. The new faith,\nwhich denies an invisible world, desires more: it desires that we should\nbe convinced of the direct opposite of that which we see and comprehend.\nThese considerations in no way signify a depreciation on our part of the\neffort to attain freedom and equality--an effort that has an\nindisputable validity. But this validity must be based upon a whole of\nlife and be more definitely determined, otherwise the effort is stifled\nby the inconsistencies in which the conceptions of freedom and equality\nare involved in the minds of their advocates.\n\nThe independence of the individual and the spontaneity of the spiritual\nlife are endangered not only by the mechanism of a bureaucracy\nindifferent to spiritual values but also none the less by the movements\nof the masses, which in modern life in particular surround and browbeat\nthe individual. The man of the present day often believes that he has\ngained freedom when in reality he has only changed the nature of his\ndependence. What makes the movements of the masses, with their so-called\npublic opinion, so irksome is the falsehood that is generally contained\nin this opinion, which is presented as proceeding from the experience\nand decision of a great majority, and therefore as having a definite\npresupposition of truth. The fact, as a rule, is that a few venture an\nassertion and urge it upon the others with unobserved compulsion, since\nthey proclaim as already existent the agreement that they are only\nseeking. Of course sometimes there is much more in public opinion; it\nmay be the expression of a spiritual necessity which subjects to itself\nthe dispositions of men. Whether public opinion is to be an interpreter\nof truth or a mere product of man remains to be decided; and this\ndecision can rest only with the individual. He will be equal to making\nthis decision if he possesses a spiritual experience, and has in this a\ntouchstone by which to distinguish the genuine from the false.\n\nPhilosophy can maintain the rights of the individual only so far as he\nis rooted in spiritual relationships and derives power from them; it\nmust absolutely oppose all glorification of the natural, spiritually\ndestitute individual. We find such a glorification to-day more\nespecially in that which, with particular emphasis, is called \"modern\"\nmorality, but which in fact threatens rather to be a complete negation\nof morality; even though this negation is against the intentions of its\nadvocates, mostly women, who display great enthusiasm for this \"modern\"\nmorality. It seems as though life is limited and degraded because\nsociety, particularly in the matter of the sexual life, prescribes rigid\nstatutes which, if they were not irrational at the beginning, have\nnevertheless become irrational, and tend to brand the right as wrong and\nthe wrong as right. The shaking off of these restrictions and of the\npressure of society in general seems to promise a form of life\nincomparably more powerful, sincere, and individual: this life is also\nto offer more beauty, for to-day generally the idea of beauty is\nemphasised with great partiality where life has no clear ideas and no\nsignificant content.\n\nThis criticism of the statutes of society is not entirely without\nreason. Such statutes do not in themselves constitute a morality, as it\nis easy to imagine they do; but they only advocate a morality; as life\nundergoes such far-reaching changes, these statutes must continually be\nexamined anew as to their validity and value. But this relativity does\nnot make them worthless, and does not justify their complete rejection\nin favour of an absolute freedom on the part of individuals. We could\nexpect an elevation of life by such an effort for freedom only if we\nmight assume that the individuals are thoroughly noble, energetic, and\nspiritually rich, and if in the relations between the sexes a state of\nparadisiacal innocence reigned which only the evil arrangements of\nsociety had disturbed. But this is a way of thinking which does more\nhonour to the hearts than to the heads of its advocates. He who takes\nmen as they really are and does not paint them in romantic colours, and\nwho at the same time recognises the dangers of a highly developed,\npleasure-seeking, and over-refined state of culture, will not despise\nthose social arrangements, notwithstanding their relativity, but value\nthem as an indispensable safeguard against the selfishness, the greed\nfor pleasure, and the instability of the mere individual--a safeguard\nnot only against the tyranny of externals but also for the individual\nagainst himself. It is unfortunate enough that such safeguards are\nnecessary; but, as they are necessary, it is better to preserve and\nimprove them as much as possible than to reject them, and to expose\nhumanity to dangers that might throw it back into the condition of the\nanimals. Man is not better because he is painted more beautifully;\nrather Pascal is right when he says: \"L'homme n'est ni ange ni b\u00eate, et\nle malheur veut, que qui veut faire l'ange fait la b\u00eate.\"\n\nThe tendency to think that man may be transformed inwardly and the whole\ncondition of life raised by changes in external organisation is most\ndefinitely felt in the social movements of the age. In this there is a\nclearly marked opposition to the earlier mode of thought, which, placing\na low estimate upon everything external, and finding greatness too\neasily in disposition, overlooked how much the organisation of the\nconditions of life means for men in whom the spiritual is only in\nprocess of development; and, further, failed to notice that there is\nalso a strong movement from external to internal. Nevertheless, the fact\ncannot be denied, notwithstanding all this, that the problems of the\nwhole and of man's inner nature require to be treated as of chief\nimportance. Otherwise, as Aristotle suggested, notwithstanding all the\nalteration of conditions, the old problems will continually make their\nappearance anew, and the substance of life might easily suffer from that\nwhich was intended to improve its condition.\n\nIn conclusion, we may briefly consider the problems that have been\nraised in the nineteenth century by the increased emphasis on the idea\nof nationality. Influences of an idealistic nature first raised the\ncultivation and establishment of a particular national character to the\nposition of a matter of the greatest importance. This character appeared\nto be an extremely valuable form of individualisation of the spiritual\nlife, a form in which that life attains to concreteness and greater\ndefiniteness and penetration. The co-existence of these individual\nnationalities gave promise of an incomparably richer formation of the\nlife of humanity as a whole: the inner development of their peculiar\nnatures, and their lofty rivalry, also promised to bring a wealth of\narousing and elevating motives. The nineteenth century has, indeed, won\nan incalculable amount through this movement; to take up an abstract\ncosmopolitanism again would be decidedly retrograde.\n\nBut the more the idea of nationality has been brought from its high\nplace in the realm of thought to the domain of human circumstance, the\nmore has it been debased and the more dangers has it produced. If\npreviously the cultivation of an ideal type of life was most prominent,\nand if the nations could thus permit one another to follow their own\ncourses peacefully, this has become less and less the case in face of\nthe desire and effort for power and expansion in the visible world; and\nowing to the narrowness of physical space occupied by the nations, the\ndifferent strivings have clashed together more and more severely. If\nthis tendency continues without the counteraction of an inner task\ncommon to humanity as a whole, and of unifying and elevating ideas, it\nis hardly possible to avoid mutual hostility, a degeneration into\nobstinacy and injustice. The idea of nationality may therefore become a\ndanger to the ethical character of life. This is the case if, by milder\nor by severer means, one nation tries to force its own character and\nspeech upon another. The mode of thought based on the old _cujus regio\nejus natio_ is in no way better than that based on the old _cujus regio\nejus religio_, which we are now accustomed to regard with contempt as a\npiece of barbarism. The desire for external power at the same time tends\nto lessen the attention to the inner development and unification of\nnationality, without which ultimately little progress can be made in the\ndevelopment of power. It is through a common national character, with\nits unification of the feelings and efforts of the individuals, that a\npeople is first elevated into a genuine nation; it is a character such\nas this that gives to a people a power of influencing humanity as a\nwhole; it is a character such as this that gives to the individuals the\nconsciousness of being \"members one of another,\" and with this a\nstability and a joy in life and activity. Such a national character\nnecessitates certain natural conditions, that are like the veins in\nmarble which prescribe a certain direction to the work of the artist.\nBut these conditions must first be organised and by the complete\nelevation of their nature spiritually unified; and this cannot be\nachieved otherwise than through our own work, which through common\nevents and experiences follows its ideal. So far, therefore, national\ncharacter is not a gift of nature but a task which presents itself\ndistinctively to each people according to its nature and conditions. In\nthis matter a people must always in the first place realise a unity in\nits own nature.\n\nIn the fulfilment of this task hardly any other people has had to\ncontend with keener opposition, both external and internal, than the\nGermans. Our physical environment does not direct us so definitely into\ndistinctive paths as is the case with other peoples. But our inner\nnature contains, before all else, harsh antitheses. Our strength lies\nchiefly in arousing to life depths of the soul otherwise undreamt of.\nThus in music and in poetry we have been able to surpass all other\npeoples; again, we have been able to give to religion a wonderful\ninwardness, and in education to evolve the leading ideas. At the same\ntime, however, we are driven to the physical world to take possession of\nand to shape things; we are not the Hindus of Europe, as other people\nindeed previously called us. We came into history by achievements in\nwar, and the desire for conflict and victory has been maintained through\nall the phases of our varied history. By the continued diligence of our\ncitizens in work we have subordinated the world around us to our aims;\nour capacity for organisation has been most marked, as the present state\nof industry and trade shows. However, not only have these movements\ntowards inwardness, and towards the world, a strong tendency to oppose\none another, but also, in contrast with these magnificent gifts, there\nare many defects and tendencies that make the development of a powerful\nand unified life exceedingly difficult. We show a want of form and\ntaste, a heaviness and formality, a tendency to occupation with detail\nand, in general, with what is petty in life, and, as a result of this,\nan uncultured \"Philistinism\" in all spheres of society, and along with\nthis the inclination on the part of individuals to insist on the\ncorrectness of their positions, and thus to cause division; finally--and\nthis is the worst of all--much envy and jealousy. None of these features\ncan be denied. There is an infinite amount which must be altered and\novercome amongst us if we are to become what we are capable of becoming,\nand if we are to reach the highest in our nature. The limitations that\nhave been brought about by our history, which on the whole has not been\na happy one, constitute an important determining factor in this matter.\nThe more problems we bear within us, the more possibilities of genuine\ncreation that exist within us, and the more we may be to humanity in the\nfuture, the more painful is it if attention and activity are diverted\nfrom the chief task, and if an externalising of the idea of nationality\nallows us to consider ourselves great rather than lead us to strive for\ntrue greatness. The people that has produced Luther and Bach, Kant and\nGoethe, cannot be devoid of true greatness, if it only remains faithful\nto its own nature, and if it concentrates its power and treats the chief\nthing really as such.\n\n\n(e) THE LIFE OF THE INDIVIDUAL\n\nThe problems and antitheses that are to be found in the life of the\npresent penetrate deeply into the life of the individual, and often make\ntheir appearance within him with a particular power. The antithesis that\nexists between the conceptions of the world and the demands of life is\nespecially harsh. The tendency of the age is to form a conception of the\nworld which reduces the status of the individual in the greatest degree:\nfrom the point of view of nature and of society, he seems to be no more\nthan a fleeting appearance, a matter of indifference, and to show no\nindependence, and never to be able to take part with spontaneous\nactivity in the course of events. On the other hand, the contemporary\nform of life demands the greatest independence and freedom of the\nindividual. We see in him the chief bearer of life, and we expect\nsalvation from the severe perplexities of the time, primarily from his\nstrengthening. This state of inconsistency cannot be tolerated for long;\neither the degradation of the individual, that is found in the\nconceptions of the world, must be applied to life, and lead it to a\nresigned submission to an impenetrable world-process, or the positive\nestimate of the individual which governs conduct must be acknowledged in\nthe conviction concerning reality as a whole: only a weakness of\ndisposition and a feebleness of thought can divide our existence between\nthe one conviction and the other.\n\nThe course which our investigation has taken cannot leave any possible\ndoubt as to the direction which our conviction points out to us in this\nmatter: however much we also demand an energetic development of the\nindividual, that the stagnation of the age may be overcome, at the same\ntime we insist upon a necessary condition of this, on his inner\nstrengthening by an inner world present to him, on his elevation by a\nspirituality transcending nature. Only if he thus acquires an inner\nrelation to infinity, and becomes an independent centre of life, can he\nsatisfy the demands that are generally made upon him, and, remarkably\nenough, especially by those who theoretically deny the inner world as a\nwhole, and hail a most shallow Naturalism as a deliverance.\n\nOf course that inner elevation of the individual by no means lifts him\ngently and simply out of all the confusion that the experience of our\nexistence shows; at the first glance it may even seem to make the\nconfusion greater. For, if each individual can become a co-operator in\nthe building up of a new world, and if his activity thereby acquires a\nvalue for the whole, then the complete indifference with which,\naccording to our human impression, the individual is treated by the\ncourse of the physical world, the inflexibility and injustice that he\noften experiences in this world, the defect of love and justice in this\nworld, in which the bad so often obtain the victory and the good are led\nto destruction, are all the greater mystery. The more the development of\nthe spiritual life widens the field of vision; the more it leads us\nbeyond a lifeless resignation to the question of the rationality of\nevents and compels us to compare the destiny of one man with that of\nanother, the deeper must that feeling of mystery become. All attempts\nat a theodicy founder on this difficulty; we must inevitably submit to\nthe view that with regard to this problem all is obscure to the eyes of\nman. There is, however, no need on this account to doubt and to regard\nour life as hopeless; our investigation also has shown this. For, in\ncontrast with the obscurity of the world around us, we are able to set\nthe fact of the emergence of a new world within us. Great things take\nplace within us; not only does a new world appear, but we are called by\nan inner necessity of our own being to co-operate in its development,\nand this co-operation is not limited to individual activities, but\ninvolves our being as a whole. For it was just in this that we were able\nto recognise the development of being as the essence of the spiritual\nlife--that the chief movement of our life is to win a genuine being, and\nthat in the development of personality and spiritual individuality such\na being is in question. We saw clearly enough that we are not\npersonalities and individuals from the beginning; but that nature gives\nus only the possibility of becoming this. To realise this possibility\nour own activity is necessary; and this activity is not a sudden\nresolution, but requires a revolution of our being and the development\nof a new nature; and this can only be achieved by a faithful and zealous\nlife-work, and even then only approximately. Thus life as a whole is a\ntask which includes all multiplicity within it, the task of winning our\nown being completely, and just in this way to increase the kingdom of\nthe spirit at our point.\n\nThis task cannot be completely recognised and adopted without making a\ngreat divergence from the aim, harsh oppositions and difficult\nconflicts, manifest in the inner recesses of the soul. If our life,\ntherefore, appears to be in the highest degree incomplete, a mere\nbeginning, then this increase of the task demonstrates more than\nanything else that, in this matter, we are concerned not with phantoms\nand imaginations, but with realities: so here, notwithstanding all our\nincompleteness, we can obtain the certainty of a spiritual existence,\nand even become strengthened by the direct resistance of the external\nworld, because that world is henceforth reduced to the secondary\nposition. Thus, as we saw, the question upon which minds separate into\nirreconcilable opposition is whether they acknowledge in the inwardness\nof being itself not merely individual problems but a universal task; if\nthis is the case, the seriousness of the task will give to them an\nunshakable stability of possession and a security superior to all\nattacks; if it is not the case, the spiritual world is an unintelligible\nparadox, because the want of an independent inner life means that there\nis no basis for the development of an organ for the comprehension of a\nworld of inwardness. In this matter there is no possibility of a direct\nagreement; only the proof of the spirit and of power can decide.\n\nBut where the life of the individual acquires a genuine being and a\nconnection with the realm of self-consciousness, then, notwithstanding\nall that is fleeting and insubstantial, the individual cannot regard\nhimself as a transitory appearance in the whole, even in the ultimate\nbasis of his being. Where, in contrast with all the meaninglessness of\nmere nature and all the pretence of mere society, a movement towards\ninner unity and substantial being emerges, the individual will be\nelevated into a time-transcendent order, and must necessarily acquire\nsome position within it. The whole movement towards spirituality in the\nhuman sphere would be vain, and all distinctively human life would be a\nmeaningless contradiction, if the individuals in whom alone the\nspiritual life breaks forth spontaneously were included solely and\nentirely in the stream of the process of nature. If the spiritual life\nhas once revealed itself to us, so far as to begin an independent and\ndistinctive being within us, then this being will assert itself in some\nway. This does not imply agreement with the usual belief in immortality,\nwhich would preserve man just as he is through all eternity, and thus\ncondemn him to the torture of rigid continuance in the same form; a\nstate that would, indeed, be as unbearable as the pain of the\ntraditional hell. As the world as a whole is in the highest degree\nmysterious to us, so our future is veiled in the deepest obscurity. But,\nif with the essence of our being we are elevated into a universal\nspiritual life, and if in the innermost basis of our life we participate\nin an eternal order, then the time-transcendence of this life assures to\nus also some kind of time-transcendence in our being.\n\n _So l\u00f6st sich jene grosse Frage\n Nach unserm zweiten Vaterland,\n Denn das Best\u00e4ndige der ird'schen Tage\n Verb\u00fcrgt uns ewigen Bestand._\n\n GOETHE\n\n\n\n\nCONCLUSION\n\n\nIn conclusion a few words will suffice. The last section showed that the\npresent sets great problems and reveals possibilities in every\ndepartment of life; but that we men are very far from being equal to\ncope with these problems. We are limited especially by the fact that we\nare incapable of elevating ourselves inwardly above the present; that we\ndo not take possession of it sufficiently as a whole, and find an inner\nindependence in relation to it; and that therefore we do not enter with\nthe necessary vigour into the conflict against the trivial and the\npoor-spirited, the decadent and the sceptical that the present contains.\nTo point out the way to attain such independence appeared to us to be\nthe chief task of philosophy in the present. In the service of this\ntask, which cannot be achieved without the manifestation of a new\nactuality, without a fundamental deepening of our reality, we have made\nour investigation, which contains a distinctive conception of the\nspiritual life. In that everywhere we have pressed back from the results\nto the experience, and from the wealth of achievement to the generating\nbasis, we have seen nature, history, culture, and human nature as a\nwhole in a new light. We have hoped, by widening and strengthening life\nitself from within, to supply a substitute for the external supports\nthat life has lost. How far we have succeeded in our endeavour is\nanother question; we shall be satisfied even if our work only\ncontributes to bring the present to a clearer consciousness of the state\nof spiritual crisis in which it exists and concerning the seriousness of\nwhich it deceives itself in a thousand ways. There is an enormous amount\nof vigorous activity and efficient work, of honest endeavour and serious\ndisposition, in our time, and the tendency to make life more spiritual\nis also evident. But the movement is still far from attaining the depth\nwhich is necessary to the chief question of our spiritual existence;\nthus the conflict, instead of being between whole and whole, is divided;\nthat which is significant and valuable in the endeavour of the time is\nin danger of becoming problematic, and of producing the opposite of what\nit purposes, because it does not fit itself into a universal life, and\nin this realise its limitations and at the same time its right. A more\nenergetic concentration of life in itself is therefore the first\ncondition of transcending the chaos of the life of the present and of\npreventing spiritual degeneration in the midst of too intense an\noccupation with externals. As for the rest, we may say with Plotinus:\n\"The doctrine serves to point the way and guide the traveller; the\nvision, however, is for him who will see it.\"\n\n\n\n\nINDEX\n\n\n Abstractions; their power in modern life, 362 ff.\n\n Activism; profession of faith in, 255 ff.;\n how it differs from a system of mere force, 255 ff.;\n its ethical character, 256;\n how it differs from Voluntarism and Pragmatism, 256 ff.\n\n \u00c6sthetic Individualism, 61 ff.\n\n \u00c6stheticism; its antithesis to Activism, 258 ff.\n\n Antiquity; its distinctive synthesis of life, 208 ff.\n\n _A priori_; its validity and its limitations, 234\n\n Archimedean point in the spiritual life; its impossibility, 94 ff., 154\n\n Art and literature, condition and tasks in the present, 354 ff.\n\n Ascetic organisation of life; rejected, 281 ff.\n\n\n Being, development of; as a system of life, 212 ff., 314\n\n\n Catholicism; different tendencies in, 328 ff.\n\n Christianity; its unique character, 6;\n the opposition to, 7 ff.;\n its permanent truth, 331 ff.;\n changes necessary to it, 332 ff.;\n Christian and Greek forms of life, 283 ff.\n\n \"Classical,\" the; its significance, 192\n\n Concentration of life (within the whole), 156 ff., 160\n\n Conscience; its significance, 129 ff.\n\n Critical character of modern work; its presuppositions, 250 ff.\n\n Culture, 110 ff.;\n genuine and apparent, 269 ff.;\n requirements of a new type, 298 ff.;\n organisation of, 315 ff.\n\n\n Democratic tendency of modern culture, 361 ff.\n\n Departments of life; their relation to life as a whole, 316 ff.\n\n Dogmatic sectarian point of view; rejected, 328\n\n Duty; significance of the idea, 184 ff., 231\n\n\n Education; problems in the present state of, 343 ff.\n\n Enlightenment, the; its synthesis of life, 209 ff.;\n how far problematic, 249;\n relation of the present to it, 347 ff.\n\n Equality; problems of the present conception of, 362\n\n Eternity; how far implied in the life of the individual, 372\n\n Ethical character of life; how to be understood, 256, 258;\n of spiritual culture, 309 ff.;\n its necessity, 337 ff.\n\n Ethics (morality); different types in the present time, 336 ff.;\n conditions of a morality, 338 ff.;\n requirements of morality in a spiritual culture, 339 ff.\n\n Evil; the problem of, 263 ff.;\n the way in which it is solved, 279 ff.\n\n Evolution, doctrine of; spiritual, its limitations, 194 ff., 257 ff.\n\n Experience; its significance for the spiritual life in man, 235 ff.\n\n\n Freedom; its nature, 174 ff.;\n its conflict with destiny, 181 ff.;\n genuine and false, 323 ff.;\n inconsistency in contemporary treatment of the problem, 360 ff.\n\n\n German character; its greatness and its dangers, 317 ff., 368 ff.\n\n Goethe; characteristic influence, 299\n\n Good, the (idea of the good); how it differs from the Useful, 119 ff.;\n apparent inconsistency, 138 ff.;\n more detailed determination, 185 ff.\n\n Great man, the; his relation to his time, 292\n\n Greek and Christian forms of life, 283 ff.\n\n\n Hegel; relation of the present to him indefinite, 348\n\n Historical and social organisation of life; its limitations, 200\n\n Historical Relativism; rejected, 290 ff., 323 ff.\n\n History; the spiritual conception of, its conditions, 188 ff.;\n esoteric and exoteric history, 243 ff.\n\n Human life; how far it is from the spiritual life, 161 ff.\n\n\n Idealisation, false; of immediate existence, 83 ff., 362 ff.\n\n Idealism and Realism; their unification in a spiritual culture, 312 ff.\n\n Ideas in history; their unique character, 126 ff., 188 ff.\n\n Imagination; indispensable in all departments of life, 239\n\n Immanent Idealism, its rise and fall, 15 ff.\n\n Immanental treatment (from the life-process), 107 ff.\n\n Individual, the, and the Society; problems of their relation, 364 ff.\n\n Individual, the; his significance in the new relations, 246, 369 ff.\n\n Individual, life of the; its form in the new system, 369 ff.\n\n Individuality (spiritual); as a problem, 132 ff., 181 ff., 370\n\n Instruction; problems in the present time with reference to, 343 ff.\n\n Inwardness; its attainment of independence in man, 123 ff., 146 ff.;\n as the inner life of reality, 148 ff.;\n inwardness and the inner world, 303\n\n Irrationality, of existence; in what manner overcome, 279\n\n\n Kant; inconsistency in the relation to him in the present time, 348\n\n Knowledge; its form in the new system, 351\n\n\n Life; its detachment from the mere individual, 119 ff.;\n the two movements in it, 282 ff.\n\n Life-process; as the fundamental principle of investigation, 104 ff.,\n 305 ff., 349 ff.\n\n Life's attainment of greatness, 240 ff.\n\n Life-work; its significance in acquiring stability, 253\n\n Love; as a witness to the union with the whole, 231\n\n\n Man; as a being of nature, 110 ff.;\n growing beyond nature, 113 ff.;\n his union with the whole, 226 ff.\n\n Masses, the culture of the; its problems, 89 ff.\n\n Mass-movements; their dangers and limitations, 363 ff.\n\n Metaphysic; in what sense necessary, 141 ff.\n\n \"Modern,\" the; double meaning, 296\n\n Modern Age, the (in a broad sense); the characteristic in its nature,\n 9 ff.\n\n \"Modern\" Morality; discussed and rejected, 364 ff.\n\n Movement, of the spiritual life in man; its uniqueness, 233 ff.;\n its increase in the new system of life, 247 ff.\n\n Mysticism; in what sense justifiable, 246\n\n\n National Character, 198, 367 ff.\n\n Nationality, the idea of; its problems, 366 ff.\n\n Naturalism; its significance and its limitations, 24 ff.\n\n Nature and Spirit, 270 ff.\n\n Negation; impossibility of an absolute, 267 ff.\n\n Newer Systems of Life; what they have in common, 22 ff., 81 ff.\n\n No\u00f6logical Method; distinguished from the psychological and the\n cosmological, 243, 352\n\n Norms; their significance, 184\n\n\n Pantheism; vague character of the general conception of it, 84\n\n Past; impossibility of flight to the, 93 ff.\n\n People and nation, 366 ff.\n\n Personal conviction, concerning reality as a whole; where the decision\n is made, 253, 281, 311 ff., 340, 372\n\n Personality; the difficulty of the conception, 95 ff.;\n no mere gift of nature, 311, 370\n\n Philosophy; its present position, 346 ff.;\n its three main tendencies in the present time, 347 ff.;\n chief demands, 349 ff.\n\n Philosophy of life; the conception of a, 3 ff.\n\n Political and social life; condition and tasks in the present time, 358\n ff.\n\n Present, the; difficulties of determining its extent, 289 ff.\n\n Protestantism; the different tendencies in it, 329\n\n Public opinion; manner of its formation, 364\n\n\n Reality; difficulty of the conception, 84 ff.;\n longing for, 159 ff.;\n new conception of, 220 ff.\n\n Relation (fundamental), of man to reality; new, from the point of view\n of the spiritual life, 152 ff.\n\n Religion; the system of life of, 6 ff.;\n its form and its justification, 273 ff.;\n its necessity in a spiritual culture, 312 ff.;\n its present condition, 324;\n its requirements in a spiritual culture, 330 ff.;\n specific religious system of life rejected, 281 ff.\n\n Romanticism; its significance and its limitations, 258 ff.\n\n\n Science; its present greatness and problems, 345 ff.\n\n Self-preservation, spiritual; distinguished from natural\n self-preservation, 126\n\n Sense; its estimate, 260\n\n Simplification (in revivals), 128\n\n Socialistic system; its significance and its limitations, 41 ff.\n\n Society; the spiritual conception of, 196 ff.;\n emphasis upon society in the nineteenth century, 358 ff.\n\n Spiritual culture, and human culture, 308 ff.\n\n Spiritual life; its independence a necessity, 141 ff.;\n as the fundamental principle of a new organisation of the individual\n departments of life, 157 ff., 244 ff.\n\n Spiritual work; its relation to time, 290 ff.\n\n Stability in life; how won, 251 ff.\n\n State, the; the greater emphasis upon it in the nineteenth century, 359\n ff.\n\n Suffering and spiritual destitution, 314\n\n Syntheses of life; in history, 207 ff.\n\n\n Theodicy; rejected, 279 ff., 371\n\n Thought; its relation to life, 108, 126 ff., 141 ff., 349 ff.;\n its unique operation (in distinction from association), 125 ff.\n\n Time; fundamental relation of man to, 116 ff.\n\n Transcendent Spirituality; as the fundamental principle of religion,\n 278 ff.\n\n Transcendental method; in what sense justifiable, 248\n\n Truth, conception of; its history, 138;\n new conception, 216 ff.\n\n\n Work; its distinctive character, 122;\n its power to develop, 201 ff.;\n the world of work, 201 ff.\n\n World, conceptions of the; chief types, 353 ff.\n\n\n\n\n Printed by\n BALLANTYNE & COMPANY LTD\n Tavistock Street Covent Garden\n London\n\n\n\n\n BY RUDOLF EUCKEN\n\n THE MEANING AND VALUE OF LIFE\n\n TRANSLATED BY\n\n LUCY JUDGE GIBSON & W. R. BOYCE GIBSON, M.A.\n\n SECOND EDITION\n\n Crown 8vo, By Post\n Cloth Price 3s. 6d. net 3s. 9d.\n\n\nFROM THE TRANSLATORS' PREFACE\n\nEucken's influence as a thinker has for long been felt far beyond the\nborders of his native land. Translations of his books have appeared in\nmany foreign languages, including French, Italian, Swedish, Finnish and\nRussian. In our own country such articles on Eucken's works as have\nappeared quite recently in the _Times_, the _Guardian_, and the\n_Inquirer_ are significantly sympathetic and appreciative. 'It seems\nlikely,' writes the reviewer in the _Guardian_, 'that for the next\ndecade Eucken will be the leading guide for the pilgrims of thought who\nwalk on the Idealist Road.'\n\n _PRESS OPINION_\n\n \"There are scores of passages throughout the volume one would like to\n quote--the thinking of a man of clearest vision and loftiest outlook\n on the fabric of life as men are fashioning it to-day. It is a volume\n for Churchmen and politicians of all shades and parties, for the\n student and for the man of business, for the workshop as well--a\n volume for every one who is seriously interested in the great business\n of life.\"--_Aberdeen Journal._\n\n\n PUBLISHED BY\n ADAM & CHARLES BLACK. 4 SOHO SQUARE. LONDON, W.\n\n\n\n\n RUDOLF EUCKEN'S\n\n PHILOSOPHY OF LIFE\n\n By W. R. BOYCE GIBSON\n\n LECTURER IN PHILOSOPHY IN THE UNIVERSITY OF LIVERPOOL\n\n THIRD EDITION\n\n With Frontispiece Portrait of Rudolf Eucken\n\n Crown 8vo, By Post\n Cloth Price 3s. 6d. net 3s. 9d.\n\n\nSUMMARY OF CONTENTS\n\n The New Idealism: Eucken's Philosophy a Rallying-point for Idealistic\n Effort\n His Theory of Knowledge\n His Philosophy of History\n The Meaning of a Historical Fact\n The Break with Aristotelianism and Aquinism\n Eucken's Criticism of the Naturalistic Syntagma\n The Great Alternative: Individuality or Personality\n The Category of Action\n Eucken's View of Revelation\n The Problem of the Union of Human and Divine\n The New Spiritual Immediacy\n The Spiritual Life as Eucken conceives it: its Intrinsically\n Oppositional Character\n Eucken's Philosophy as a Philosophy of Freedom\n The New Idealism as a Religious Idealism\n\n \"No reader should fail to find pleasure in a book so full of fresh and\n stimulating thought, expressed with great felicity of language.\"\n\n _The Scottish Review_\n\n \"It is done with just the proper combination of sympathy and\n criticism.\"--_The British Weekly_\n\n\n PUBLISHED BY\n ADAM & CHARLES BLACK. 4 SOHO SQUARE. LONDON, W.","title":"Life's Basis and Life's Ideal: The Fundamentals of a New Philosophy of Life","tradition":"philosophy-ethics","translated_text":null,"word_count":136776}