{"collection":"scripture-revelation","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/wikisource_The_Religious_Aspect_of_Philosophy_Chapter_5/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/wikisource_The_Religious_Aspect_of_Philosophy_Chapter_5","id":"wikisource_The_Religious_Aspect_of_Philosophy_Chapter_5","license":"Public Domain / CC-BY-SA (see source)","rights_basis":"wikisource_site_inclusion_policy","source":"wikisource","source_url":"https://en.wikisource.org/wiki/The_Religious_Aspect_of_Philosophy/Chapter_5","summary":null,"tags":["Headers_applying_DefaultSort_key","Subpages"],"text":"CHAPTER V.\n\nETHICAL SKEPTICISM AND ETHICAL PESSIMISM.\n\nLong is the night to him who is awake; long is a mile to him who is tired; long is life to the foolish who do not know the true law. \u2014 Dhammapada.\n\nTo turn skeptic himself, we said, seemed the only\nway open before our idealist. If only he had placed\nhis standard a little lower! If only he had not\ninsisted on getting his ideal by ideal methods!\nThen he might have remained safe in some one of\nthe positions that he temporarily assumed. But\nalways he drove himself out of them. Some stupendous\nexternal reality, some beautiful mental state,\nwould suggest itself to him, and he would say: \u201cLo,\nhere is the ideal that I seek.\u201d But forthwith his\nown doubt would arise, accusing him of faithlessness.\n\u201cWhat hast thou found save that this or that happens\nto exist?\u201d the doubt would say, and our idealist\nwould be constrained to answer, \u201cNot because it\nexists, but because I have freely chosen it for my\nguide, is it the Ideal.\u201d And then would come the\nrepeated accusation that caprice is the sole ground\nfor the choice of this ideal. Skepticism, then, total\nskepticism as to the foundation of ethics, seems to\nbe the result that threatens us. We must face this\nskepticism and consider its outcome.\n\nI.\n\nIt is in fact in such skepticism as this that one\nfinds the real power and meaning of most genuine\nmodern Pessimism. Not so much in the hopelessness\nof our efforts to reach our ideals once chosen as\nin our perpetual hesitation or unsteadiness in the\nchoice of ideals, we most frequently find the deepest\nground for pessimistic despair. Choose an ideal,\nand you have at least your part to play in the world.\nThe game may seem worth the trouble; for far off\nas may be what you seek, there is the delight and\nthe earnestness of free self-surrender to a great aim.\nBut pessimism is almost inevitable if you have been\nlong trying to find an ideal to which you can devote\nyourself, and if you have failed in your quest.\nTherefore those advocates of pessimism are most\nformidable who dwell less upon the ills of life, as\nbare facts, and more upon the aimlessness of life.\nVon Hartmann, therefore, to whom pessimism is\nmore the supposed result of a process of summation,\nand thus is a belief that the sum of pains in life\noverbalances the sum of pleasures, produces little\neffect upon us by his balance-sheet. But Schopenhauer,\nwho dwelt not only upon the balance-sheet,\nbut still more upon the fundamental fact that life is\nrestless and aimless, \u2014 he is nearer to success in his\npessimistic efforts. It is here that one finds also\nthe true strength of Schopenhauer\u2019s model, the\nBuddhistic despair of life. Choose your aim in life,\nsays in effect Buddhism, let it be wife or child,\nwealth or fame or power, and still your aim is only one among many, lost in the eternal strife, at war\nwith all the rest, and never able to prove its right to\nsupremacy in the world. From life to life you pass,\nnow a Brahman, now a king, now a worm, now a\ntiger, now a beggar, now in hell, now among the\ndemons of the air; your aims alter everlastingly\nwith each new birth, and nowhere do you find life\nanything but a succession of aims, no one of which\nis intrinsically more significant than the others.\nThe world of aims is a world of strife, and no life\nhas any real significance. No desire is of any\nessential worth. Therefore, seeing all this, give up\ndesire. Have it as your one aim to have no aim.\nSuch is the outcome of the insight into the eternal\nwarfare of aims. The Buddhist parables try to\nmake plain this insignificance of life both by dwelling\non the fact that men must finally fail to get their\naims, and by insisting that, if men temporarily\nsucceed, their condition is no less insignificant than it is\nwhen they fail. The failure is used to show a man\nnot so much the difficulty of getting his aim in this\nbad world, as the worthlessness of his aim. The\nsuccess when it comes is embittered for the successful\nman by reminding him that all desire is transient,\nand that what he now loves will come to seem\nhateful to him. In both cases the lesson, whether of\nthe success or of the failure, is, not that the order of\nthings is diabolical, and therefore an enemy of\nmankind, but that the desires themselves are hopelessly\nconfused and worthless. If Buddhism dwelt only\non the hopelessness of our efforts to get the good\nthings that we want, the doctrine would result in a sort of Promethean defiance of the physical world,\nour powerful and cruel enemy. But Buddhism\ninsists upon it that we know not what are the good\nthings that we pretend to want. Our desires being\nignorant, and endlessly changeable, we have no right\nto hope for success. The moral of their stories is\nnot a protest against the physical evils about us, but\na general condemnation of the vain aims that are\nin us.\n\nThe same aimlessness of life is the subject of\nlament in much of our modern romantic poetry.\nHere is, for the melancholy romantic poet, the great\nevil of existence, that we know not what is good.\nHere is the great disappointment of life, that we\nhave no object in life. Here is the great failure,\nthat we cannot make up our minds to undertake\nanything. Here is the great emptiness, that we\nhave nothing to fill. And thus the ethical\nskepticism that has so far beset our path in the present\ninvestigation becomes, when we dwell upon it and\nfully realize its meaning, an ethical pessimism. We\nshall then illustrate afresh our problem if we\nconsider how this difficulty of the choice of an ideal\nhas affected the search of certain among our modern\nromantic poets for what they would call the ideal\nemotion.\n\nII.\n\nOf all the subjects of reflection in romantic poetry,\nnone is more familiar than the question of the\nmeaning and worth of human life as a whole. The first\nand natural answer of the modern poet to this question is well known. Human life means for him the\nemotional side of life. The highest good, when\nfound, must be an emotional good. The romantic\npoet, criticising life, must aim to make clear what\nkind of emotional condition is the most satisfactory\none. In this view we have no mere truism. Many\nforms of Hedonism would oppose the doctrine that\nin the intenser emotions can be found the ideal\nstates of consciousness. The common sense of men\nof the world sees in the more moderate pleasures of\npolite leisure, in the attainment of practical\nknowledge, in a successful professional or business career,\nthe sources of permanent satisfaction. Several\nschools of ancient philosophy regarded tranquillity\nas constituting the essence of a blessed life. But to\nall this the spirit of modern poetry was from the\noutset violently opposed. Tranquillity, once\nexchanged for storm and stress, is not again regarded\nas the goal. Active emotion, intense in quality,\nunlimited in quantity, is what the poets of the\nrevolution desire. One need only mention \u201cWerther,\u201d\n\u201cThe Robbers,\u201d \u201cThe Revolt of Islam,\u201d \u201cManfred,\u201d\n\u201cFaust,\u201d to suggest what is meant by this\nspirit of the revolutionary poetry.\n\nLife, then, can be of worth only in so far as it is\nfull of the desirable forms of poetic emotion. But\nis such fullness of life possible? Is the view that\nmakes it the ideal a tenable view? Must not the\nconsistent following of this view lead ultimately to\npessimism? The answer to this problem is the\nhistory of the whole romantic movement. Here must\nsuffice a sketch of some of the principal results of\nthe movement. The stir of modern life, then, has awakened\nsensibility, quickened desire, aroused the passion for\nfreedom, disturbed old traditions. Above all, the\ntheological ideals of life have been, for the romantic poet,\ndisturbed, perhaps shattered. His highest good must\nbe sought in his own soul. What is the consequence?\nFirst, of course, a sense of splendid independence, a\nlofty spiritual pride. The joy of freed emotion is\nequaled by few delights on earth. The self-worship of\npoetic genius is surpassed by few forms of conceit.\nShelley, rejoicing in his strength, writing \u201cThe\nNecessity of Atheism,\u201d and defending, in all innocence\nof evil, adultery and incest, is a good example of the\nexpression of this spirit. Lavatar\u2019s account of the\nnature of genius is another instance: \u201cAs the\napparitions of angels do not come, but are present, do not\ngo away, but are gone, as they strike the innermost\nmarrow, influence by their immortality the immortal\nin men, vanish and yet still influence, leave behind\nthem sweet shuddering and tears of terror, and on\nthe countenance pale joy, so the operation of genius.\nDescribe genius as you will, \u2014 name it fruitfulness of\nsoul, faith, hope, love, \u2014 the unlearned, the unlearnable,\n\u2014 the inimitable, the divine, \u2014 that is genius.\n\u2019Tis inspiration, revelation, that may be felt, but not\nwilled or desired; \u2019tis art above art, its way is the\nway of the lightning.\u201d We cannot quote a tenth\npart of this rhapsody, wherein the self-admiration\nand the mutual admiration of the young men about\nGoethe, in the years just before and after 1780,\nreceive a characteristic expression. This pride leads directly to the effort to build up a wholly new set of ideals. The patience of the statesman, of the student of science, of the business man, is unknown to these forceful young men. They must make a world of their own, and in a day too. At the same time they are without any definite faith. In fact, definite faith would endanger for them the freshness of their emotions. They fear any creed but one self-made. And they can more easily tear down than build up. One of the most interesting of the young geniuses of the age of the German romantic development is the early lost Novalis (Friedrich von Hardenberg), a representative, like Shelley after him, of the emotional or romantic poetry in its pristine innocence. A truly noble soul, joined to a weak body, oppressed by many troubles, unable to grow to full manly spiritual stature, he shows us the beauty and imperfection of the emotional movement in close union. He writes pages of vague philosophy, which afterwards impressed the young Carlyle as an embodiment of a sense of the deep mystery of life. You find delight in wandering through the flowery labyrinths of such speculation; you learn much by the way, but you come nowhere. Only this is clear: the young poet persists that the world must in some way conform to the emotional needs of man. And he persists, too, that a harmonious scheme of life can be formed on a purely romantic plan, and only on such a plan. He actually explains no reality and completes no scheme of life.\nHe hints, at length, that the Catholic church is the\nbest expression of the needs of man. With this\nunsatisfactory suggestion, the little career of wandering\nends in death. But in what could it have ended\nhad life continued?\n\nPerhaps in what was called by the close friend of\nNovalis, Friedrich Schlegel, the romantic irony.\nThis is the next stage in the growth, or, if you like,\nin the decay of the romantic spirit. Emotion is our\nguide and our goal. But what is emotion? Something\nchangeable and by nature inconsistent. Each\nemotion sets up a claim to fill the whole of life. For\neach new one, the earnest poetic soul feels willing to\ndie. Yet each is driven away by its follower. The\nfeet of them that shall bear it out are before the\ndoor even while the triumphant emotion is reigning\nover the heart within. Fullness of such life means\nfickleness. Novalis, upon the death of his betrothed,\nmade a sort of divinity of the departed, and dated a\nnew era from the day of her death. His diary was\nfor a while full of spiritual exercises, suggested by\nhis affliction. He resolved to follow her to the grave\nin one year. Within this year he was betrothed\nanew. If such is Novalis, what will be a lesser\nspirit? Conscious of this inevitable decay of each\nemotion, Friedrich Schlegel suggests that one should\nmake a virtue of necessity, and declare that the\nhigher life consists in a sort of enthusiastic fickleness.\nThe genius must wander like a humming-bird\nin the garden of divine emotions. And he must be\nconscious and proud of his wanderings. Activity, or rather agility, is his highest perfection. The\nmore numerous his emotions, the nobler the man.\nThe fickler the man, the more numerous his\nemotions. This conscious union of nobility and fickleness\nis the romantic irony, which consists in receiving\neach new enthusiasm with a merry pride. \u2019Twas\nnot the first, and will not be the last. We see\nthrough it, even while we submit to it. We are\nmore than it is, and will survive it. Long live King\nExperience, who showers upon us new feelings!\n\nSo much for an ingenious and thoroughly detestable\nview of life, in which there is for an earnest man\nno rest. This irony, what is it but the laughter of\ndemons over the miserable weakness of human\ncharacter? The emotion was to be our god. It turns\nout to be a wretched fetich, and we know it as such.\n\u2019Twas mine, \u2019tis his, and has been slave to\nthousands. It is gone, though we trusted in it. It was\nour stay, and it has flowed away like water. This\nis not fullness, but hollowness, of life. And how\nshall the romantic irony supply the vacancy? This\nirony is but the word of Mephistopheles about the\nruin of Gretchen: Sie ist die erste nicht. Not the\nfirst change of emotion is this present one; not the\nfirst breaking up of the fountains of the great deep\nwithin us; but what misery in that thought! Then\nthere is nothing sure, nothing significant. In our\nown hearts were we to find life, and there is no true\nlife there; only masks with nothing beneath them;\nonly endless and meaningless change.\n\nThe consciousness of this result is present in\nanother form of the romantic spirit. The consequence is what Hegel, in the Ph\u00e4nomenologie des Geistes,\ndescribed under the name of Das Ungl\u00fcckliche\nBewusstsein, and what is more familiarly known to\nus as the Byronic frame of mind. The very strength\nof the previous emotion renders this consciousness\nof the hollowness of emotion the more\ninsupportable: \u2014\n\n\u201cWhen the lamp is shattered\nThe light in the dust lies dead.\u201d\nThe brighter the lamp, the deeper the darkness that\nfollows its breaking.\n\nThe romantic despair thus described took many\nforms in the poetry of the early part of the century.\nTo describe them all were to go far beyond our\nlimits. A few forms suggest themselves. If we are\ncondemned to fleeting emotions, we are still not\ndeprived of the hope that some day we may by chance\nfind an abiding emotion. Thus, then, we find many\npoets living in a wholly problematic state of mind,\nexpecting the god stronger than they, who, coming,\nshall rule over them. Such a man is the dramatist\nand writer of tales, Heinrich von Kleist. \u201cIt can\nbe,\u201d writes this poet to a friend, December, 1806,\n\u201cit can be no evil spirit that rules the world, only a\nspirit not understood.\u201d In such a tone of restless\nsearch for the ideal of action, Kleist remains throughout\nhis life. No poet of the romantic school had a\nkeener love of life-problems purely as problems.\nEach of his works is the statement of a question.\nIn so far Kleist resembles that more recent\nrepresentative of the problematic school of poetry,\nArthur Hugh Clough. Kleist answered his own questions at last by suicide. Others have other ways of\nfleeing misery. Ludwig Tieck, after running through\nthe whole round of romantic questions, rids himself\nof his demons by turning his attention to other literary\nwork, and lets most of the old romantic ideals\nalone, or playfully writes amusing stories about\nthem. Friedrich Schlegel finally escapes from himself\nby means of a scholarly toil and Catholic faith.\nH\u00f6lderlin takes refuge in a mad-house. Shelley\nmanages to endure his brief life, by dint of childlike\nsubmissiveness to his emotions, joined with earnest\nhope for yet better things. Schiller had joined with\nGoethe in a search for perfection in the ancient\nGreek world. There are many fashions of quieting\nthe restlessness that belonged to the time, yet what\none of them really answers the problems of the\nromantic spirit? There is still the great question:\nHow may mankind live the harmonious emotional\nlife, when men are driven for their ideals back upon\nthemselves, when traditional faith is removed, when\nthe age is full of wretchedness and of blind striving,\nwhen the very strength of poetic emotion implies\nthat it is transient and changeable? The conscious\nfailure to answer this question is more or less\ndecided pessimism.\n\nCould modern poetry free itself from that reflective\ntendency in which we have found its most prominent\ncharacteristic, the pessimism could disappear with\nthe criticism of life. But this is impossible. Omit\npart of our lyric poetry, some of our comedy and of\nour satire, and the rest of our best nineteenth century\npoetic work is a more or less conscious struggle with pessimism. The grounds and the nature of this\nstruggle have been set forth in the foregoing. The\npoet once for all accepts the emotional criterion of\nthe worth of life. Determining to see in the\nharmonious emotional life the best life, feeling as the most\ncertain of principles that \u201cthere is a lower and a\nhigher,\u201d the poet seeks to picture the perfect\nexistence thus defined. Failure means for him\npessimism; not von Hartmann\u2019s really quite harmless\n\u201ceud\u00e4monologischer Pessimismus,\u201d but the true\npessimism of the broken will, that has tried all and\nfailed. The life that ought to be, cannot be; the\nlife that is, is hollow and futile: such will be the\nresult of disappointed idealism. In our time, the\nidealistic poets that are not pessimists have all\nfought more or less consciously the same battle with\npessimism. Think only of the \u201cExcursion,\u201d or of\nthe \u201cIn Memoriam,\u201d or again of \u201cFaust,\u201d that\nepitome of the thought of our century.\n\nBut before we allow ourselves a word on the\nrelation of \u201cFaust\u201d to our problem, let us look a little\nmore closely at Byron. \u201cFaust\u201d is the crown of\nmodern poetic effort. If that fails as a solution, all\nin this field has thus far been lost. But in Byron\nthere is a confessed, one may add a professed, moral\nimperfection, whose nature throws light, not so much\non the solution of the problem of pessimism, as on\nthe problem itself.\n\nThe development of Byron\u2019s poetry has two very\nmarked periods, the sentimental and the critical.\nThe sentimental Byron of the years before 1816 is\nnot of very great present interest. The Byron of \u201cManfred,\u201d \u201cCain,\u201d and \u201cDon Juan,\u201d represents an\nindependent phase of the romantic movement, whose\nfaults are as instructive as its beauties. This\nperiod of Byron\u2019s poetry is of course but very roughly\ndescribed by the word critical, yet that word is at\nany rate suggestive. A sensitive man, and yet\nheroic, strong in spirit, but without fixed ideals of life,\na rebel by nature who yet finds no greater soul to\nlead him, no faithful band to follow him in any\ndefinite effort for mankind, Byron is a modern likeness\nof him that in the legend afterwards became St.\nChristopher. Only Byron seeks the strongest without\nfinding him, learns to despise the devil, and never\nmeets the devil\u2019s master. Worn out with the search,\nthe poet flings himself down in the woods of doubt\nand dreams \u201cDon Juan.\u201d We look in vain for\nthe right adjective with which to qualify this poem:\nit is so full of strength, so lavish of splendid resources,\nand yet in sum so disappointing. It has no\ntrue ending, and never could have had one. It is a\nmountain stream, plunging down dreadful chasms,\nsinging through grand forests, and losing itself in a\nlifeless gray alkali desert. Here is romantic self-criticism\npushed to its farthest consequences. Here\nis the self-confession of an heroic soul that has made\ntoo high demands on life, and that has found in its\nown experience and in the world nothing worthy of\ntrue heroism. We feel the magnitude of the blunder,\nwe despise (with the author, as must be noticed,\nnot in opposition to him) the miserable petty round\nof detestable experiences \u2014 intrigues, amours,\ndinners \u2014 in brief, the vulgarity to which human life is reduced; but the tragedy is everywhere to be\nread between the lines, not in what is said. The\nromantic spirit has sought in vain for the satisfactory\nemotional state, and for the worthy deed to\nperform, and now rests, scornful and yet terrified, in\ndizzy contemplation of the confused and meaningless\nmaze of sensations into which the world has\nresolved itself. \u201cThere is nothing there to fear or\nhope,\u201d this spirit seems to say.\n\n\u201cWhen Bishop Berkeley said there was no matter,\nAnd proved it, \u2019twas no matter what he said.\u201d\nOr again: \u2014\n\n\u201c\u2018To be or not to be?\u2019 Ere I decide\nI should be glad to know that which is being;\n\u2019Tis true we speculate both far and wide,\nAnd deem, because we see, we are all-seeing.\nFor my part, I\u2019ll enlist on neither side,\nUntil I see both sides for once agreeing.\nFor me, I sometimes think that life is death,\nRather than life, a mere affair of breath.\u201d\nIn \u201cManfred\u201d the same spirit seeks another, and\nnot quite so successful, a form of expression. The\nonly peace that can come to this world-weary spirit,\nManfred expresses at the sight of a quiet sunset.\nThe only freedom from eternal self-examination is\nfound in an occasional glance at peaceful nature.\n\n\u201cIt will not last.\nBut it is well to have known it though but once;\nIt hath enlarged my thoughts with a new sense,\nAnd I within my tablets would note down\nThat there is such a feeling.\u201d\nThe famous last words of Manfred, \u2014\n\n\u201cOld man, \u2019tis not so difficult to die,\u201d \u2014 coming as they do after all Manfred\u2019s vacillation\nupon just this point, indicate the final resolution of\ndespair to brave all possible wretchedness from\nwithout for the sake of feeling within, in all its strength,\nthough but for a moment, the fierce defiance of the\nrebellious Titan. Hungry for deeds, finding nothing\nto do, fearing the possible future life, and hating\nthe present, the hero at last resorts to an untrue but\nstirring assertion of absolute personal independence\nof all the hateful universe here and hereafter; \u2014\n\n\u201cThou didst not tempt me, and thou couldst not tempt me.\nI have not been thy dupe, nor am thy prey \u2014\nBut was my own destroyer, and will be\nMy own hereafter.\u201d\nThis is pessimism that overleaps itself. The\noutcome of self -analyzing romanticism is the determination\nto build afresh a world that shall be nobler than\nthis poor world of decaying passive emotions. Feeling\nwill not do. Manfred attains something by\naction, even though he first acts in the moment of\ndeath. Doing work of some kind is, then, that to\nwhich we are necessarily driven. But if the action\nof defiance can make death tolerable, why might not\nsome kind of activity make life tolerable? Is not\nthe worthy life then to be found, not in emotion,\nbut in work? Is not the ideal state the ideal\nactivity, not the ideal feeling? This suggestion had\nbeen at the foundation of the prototype of Manfred,\nthe Faust of Goethe.\n\nPraise of the first part of Goethe\u2019s \u201cFaust\u201d is\nnowadays superfluous. Doubtless the work is a torso, but so is the life of man. Extravagant\nencomium of \u201cFaust,\u201d such as that wherewith\nHermann Grimm has marred, as with a showman\u2019s\nharangue, the conclusion of his otherwise most instructive\n\u201cLectures on Goethe,\u201d seems as out of place as\napplause in a cathedral. The poem is grand and\nprofound, because the life problems it so truthfully\nportrays are grand and profound; in form, if you\nexcept digressions, it is sublimely simple and\nunassuming. Its imperfections are as open to view as is\nits grandeur. The doctrine of the poem may be thus\nbriefly suggested. Here is a world wherein nature,\nthe expression of divine intelligence, is perfect;\nwherein man, by the same divine wisdom, is left in\ndarkness and confusion. The angels, who simply\ncontemplate nature\u2019s perfection, are the \u201ctrue sons\nof God.\u201d But they do nothing. They only see and\nthink. Man is to act. By his action he is freely to\ncreate such perfection as already passively exists in\nnature. That is, his life is to become an harmonious\nwhole. The postulate of the Lord is that this is\npossible. Mephistopheles holds the opposite opinion.\nThe question is to be solved by the case of Faust.\n\nFaust is a man in whom are combined all the strength and weakness of the romantic spirit. No excellence he deems of worth so long as any excellence is beyond his grasp. Therefore his despair at the sight of the great world of life. So small a part of it is his. He knows that he can never grow great enough to grasp the whole, or any finite part of the whole. Yet there remains the hopeless desire for this wholeness. Nothing but the infinite can be satisfying. Hence the despair of the early scenes of the first part. Like Byron\u2019s Manfred, Faust seeks death; but Faust is kept from it by no fear of worse things beyond, only by an accidental reawakening of old childish emotions. He thereafter feels that he has no business with life, and is a creature of accident. He is clearly conscious only of a longing for a full experience. But this experience he conceives as mainly a passive one. He does not wish as yet to do anything, only to get everything. But at the same time with this desire for a tempest of new feelings, Faust has the consciousness that there never can be a satisfactory feeling. Mephistopheles, stating the case of the contented man of the world, assures him that the time will come for enjoying good things in peace. Faust indignantly replies that pleasure can never deceive him, the tolerable moment never come. In making this very assertion, however, and in concluding his pact with Mephistopheles upon the basis of this assertion, Faust rises above his first position, and assumes a new one. The satisfactory pleasure can never be given to him, and why? Because he will always remain active. Satisfaction would mean repose, repose would mean death. Life is activity. The meaning of the pact is of course that, for good or for evil, all the existence of a man is work, and that\nno one is ever wholly lost so long as the power of\naccomplishment remains his. But if work is the\nessence of life, then satisfaction must be found not in\nfeelings but in deeds. The world is good if we can\nmake it so, not otherwise. The problem of Faust is\ntherefore the discovery of the perfect kind of activity.\n\nWith this insight the romantic spirit has risen\nbeyond itself. The essence of romanticism is the\ndesire for fullness of personal experience. The essence\nof this new spirit is the eagerness to accomplish\nsomething. The difference is vast. Faust, following\nthis new tendency, might be led to an obscure toiling\nlife of endless self-sacrifice. His pessimism (for in\nthe early scenes he is a pessimist) might give way\nbefore unquestioning heroic devotion to some great\nend. Does this take place? We know too well the\nanswer. The whole poem is indeed a conflict between\nthe two tendencies in Faust, but the first, the\ndesire for manifold passive experiences, is until the\nlast scenes of the second part predominant. Faust\nis active, but his activity is mainly a continual\npursuit of new experiences. Even at the end he is not\nactive as other men are active; his work is done by\nmagic; and the accomplishment for whose sake he\nis at last willing to say, This is the highest moment,\nis an anticipation, not a reality. In the real world\nthe satisfactory work is never found. And thus the\nsolution of the problem is not fully given, though\nthe poet, while suggesting it, has done more than\nany other modern poet. The revolution had furnished\nas life-ideals grand emotion and heroic action. The two cannot wholly be harmonized. The\nhighest forms of activity imply self-sacrifice, drudgery,\nroutine, cool-headed calculation. The highest\nforms of emotion, pursued by themselves, intoxicate\nand enervate. It is the purpose of Goethe to lead\nhis hero through the various stages of emotional life,\nfor the sake of making him prefer in the end a mode\nof action to all forms of simple emotion. The result\nis to be a man above the deadness of ordinary work-a-day\nrealism, yet as devoted to toil as the stupidest\nrealist. There is to be a free surrender of a full\nself to the service of some high end. Nothing is\nlacking to the conquest over pessimism, except the\nclear statement of that for which the converted\nFaust is to work. The goal of activity once found,\nthe problem will be solved, and the devil\u2019s wager\nlost. But the dim allegorical suggestions of the\nsecond part will not suffice to give us the account of\nwhat is wanted. Faust is to work for human\nprogress, and progress means the existence of a whole\nnation of hard-laboring, fearless men who fight\nforever for their freedom. To have been the father of\nsuch a people is the highest blessedness. Good,\nindeed, we say; but to have wrought by the devil\u2019s\naid, through magic and oppression, is this the\nhighest? Is this the type of the best activity? And is the\ngreat problem after all really solved? For what is\nthe ultimate good of the eternal warfare with nature\nin which mankind are thus left? Faust leaves\nbehind him a nation of toilers, whose business it will\nbe to build dikes to keep the sea out. A worthy\nend of romantic hopes, truly! That Goethe himself is not wholly content therewith is proven by the\nepilogue in heaven, which means, if it means\nanything, that the highest end of human activity is\nsomething very fine, but altogether inexpressible,\ninvisible, inconceivable, indefinite, a thing of ether\nand dreams. One longs in this last scene for the\npresence of Mephistopheles, who surely has as much\nright there as in the prologue, and who would be\nsure to say, in his terse and sinewy fashion, just the\nright and the last word about the whole business.\n\nThe incompleteness of \u201cFaust\u201d is the incompleteness\nof modern thought. The poet is silent about\nthe final problem, because modern thought is still\ntoiling away on the definition of the highest human\nactivity.\n\nThus we have found that our moral problem is\nshared by others than the moral philosophers.\nAlmost at random we have taken a few suggestive\nillustrations of this same moral problem as it\nappears to the poets. Had we made use of the poets\nof the present day, we could have illustrated still\nother aspects of the question. The restless dramatic\ngenius of Browning, for instance, always giving us\nglimpses of new ideals that men of strange fashions\nhave or may have, unweariedly warns us not to\npretend to narrow the possible objects of life down to\none, however sacred we may think that one to be.\nLife, thus viewed, seems a grand everlasting\nwarfare of ideals, among which peace is impossible.\nAnd with this insight into the actual and seemingly\nirreconcilable warfare of human aims, ethical\ndoctrine must begin. The outlook is gloomy, but the\n\nproblem must be faced.\nIII.\n\nSuch are some of the motives that give genuine\nmeaning to modern pessimism. This instability of\nall ideals is the greatest danger to which idealism\ncan be subject. And the problem is not one of mere\ntheory, nor yet even of poetic emotion alone. The\nproblem is one of daily life. We choose some\nfashion of life in the morning, and we reject it before\nnight. Our devotional moments demand that all\nlife shall be devotional; our merry moments that all\nlife shall be merry; our heroic moments that all life\nshall be lived in defiance of some chosen enemy.\nBut we are false to all these our ideals, even while\nwe pretend to have them. And the most\ndisheartening aspect of the whole matter lies in the fact\nthat we cannot prove even our faithlessness to be\nunworthy, unless we can bring ourselves steadfastly to\naccept some ideal by which our faithlessness itself\ncan be judged. And this would imply that we were\nno longer faithless.\n\nWe have thus reached the root of moral skepticism.\nThe worst that moral skeptics can say is that\nall choice of ideals is an accidental caprice, that\nideals have no basis but this caprice, and that a\nmoral code depends for its successful propagation\nwholly on the persuasive personal force of the man\nthat happens to have it and to teach it.\n\nFor the first, then, we provisionally accept this\nskeptical view. We shall regard the moral ideals in\nthis light. We shall seek no impossible proof for\nany of them. But we shall try to see whither the\nskeptical view itself leads us. If we look now for a final and perfectly cold-blooded\nstatement of this moral skepticism, a statement\nthat shall let us see once for all its meaning, its\nfoundation, and its scope, the present author knows\nof no better expression of it than the one that is\ncontained in the appendix to Mr. Arthur Balfour\u2019s\n\u201cDefense of Philosophic Doubt,\u201d under the title\n\u201cThe Idea of a Philosophy of Ethics.\u201d Mr. Balfour\nhas shown us by the book in question that he\nhas a very useful office in philosophic discussion,\nand we can only thank him for having made positive\nadvance in ethics easier, by his clear statement\nof the difficulties that in the past have barred the\nway.\n\n\u201cScientific judgments and ethical judgments deal,\u201d says Mr. Balfour, \u201cwith essentially different subject-matters.\u201d Scientific propositions state \u201cfacts or events, real or hypothetical.\u201d Ethical propositions do not \u201cannounce an event,\u201d nor yet do they tell any \u201cfact of the external or internal world.\u201d Ethical writers too often consider the \u201cpsychology of the individual holding the moral law.\u201d But this is no matter for ethics, but only for psychological science. In fact, \u201cif a proposition announcing obligation require proof at all, one term of that proof must always be a proposition announcing obligation, which itself requires no proof.\u201d \u201cThere is no artifice by which an ethical proposition can be evolved from a scientific or metaphysical proposition, or any combination of such.\u201d \u201cThe origin of an ultimate ethical belief can never supply a reason for believing it, since the origin of this belief, as of any other\nmental phenomenon, is a matter to be dealt with by\nscience; and my thesis is that (negatively speaking)\nscientific truth alone cannot serve as a foundation\nfor a moral system; or (to put it positively), if we\nhave a moral system at all, there must be contained\nin it, explicitly or implicitly, at least one ethical\nproposition, of which no proof can be given or\nrequired.\u201d\n\nThe reader may ask: Is all this the loftiest idealism,\nor is it simply philosophic skepticism about the\nbasis of ethics? We may leave the reader to\nexamine for himself Mr. Balfour\u2019s very ingenious\ndiscussion, but one or two very obvious and simple\nconsequences may be quoted from the rest of the\nessay, and these will serve well enough to show here\nthe drift of the discussion.\n\n\u201cAn ethical proposition is one that prescribes an\naction with reference to an end.\u201d Every such\nproposition \u201cbelongs to a system.\u201d \u201cThe fundamental\nproposition of every such system states an end, which\nthe person who receives that system regards as final\n\u2014 as chosen for itself alone.\u201d \u201cWhen two such\nsystems conflict, their rival claims can only be\ndecided by a judgment or proposition not contained in\neither of them, which shall assert which of these\nrespective fundamental \u2018ends\u2019 shall have precedence.\u201d\n\u201cIf revenge against a particular individual is for\nme an end-in-itself, a proposition which prescribes\nshooting him from behind a hedge may be one of the\ndependent propositions belonging to that particular\nsystem.\u201d \u201cThough under the name ethical are included not only moral, but also non-moral and\nimmoral systems, the distinctions regarded from the\noutside between these subdivisions are not essential,\nand have no philosophic import.\u201d Such then is the\nskeptical outcome of this very idealistic position from\nwhich we ourselves started. Thus viewed, the moral\nworld seems essentially chaotic. Each end, if chosen,\nhas its own way of marshaling acts as good and bad.\nBut one end cannot establish itself theoretically\nover against another. The warfare among them is\npractical, but is not rationally to be judged or ended.\nEach says, \u201cIn me is the truth about right and\nwrong. I am the Way.\u201d But for one another they\nhave, not arguments, but anathemas. They give no\nproof, only assertion and condemnation. It is the\ncontemplation of this chaos that has suggested to us\nthat plausible and yet dreadful pessimism of which\nmodern thought has had so much to say, and of\nwhich this chapter has tried to give some notion.\n\nNotes","title":"The Religious Aspect of Philosophy/Chapter 5","tradition":"scripture-revelation","translated_text":null,"word_count":6379}