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You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms -of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online -at <a href="https://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a>. If you -are not located in the United States, you will have to check the laws of the -country where you are located before using this eBook. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Title: The Journal of Speculative Philosophy, Vol. I, Nos. 1-4, 1867</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Author: Various</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Editor: Wm. T. Harris</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>Release Date: April 17, 2021 [eBook #65097]</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>Language: English</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>Character set encoding: UTF-8</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Produced by: deaurider, David King, and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net. (This file was produced from images generously made available by JSTOR www.jstor.org.)</div> - -<div style='margin-top:2em; margin-bottom:4em'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE JOURNAL OF SPECULATIVE PHILOSOPHY, VOL. I, NOS. 1-4, 1867 ***</div> - -<div class='figcenter id001'> -<span class='pageno' id='Page_on'>on</span> -<img src='images/cover.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' /> -</div> -<div class='pbb'> - <hr class='pb c000' /> -</div> -<div> - <h1 class='c001'>The Journal of Speculative Philosophy, Vol. I.</h1> -</div> - -<div class='nf-center-c1'> -<div class='nf-center c002'> - <div><span class='xxlarge'><b>THE JOURNAL OF SPECULATIVE PHILOSOPHY.</b></span></div> - <div class='c003'><span class='xxlarge'><b>VOL. I.</b></span></div> - <div class='c003'><span class='xlarge'><b>EDITED BY WM. T. HARRIS.</b></span></div> - <div class='c003'>ST. LOUIS, MO.:</div> - <div>GEORGE KNAPP & CO., PRINTERS AND BINDERS.</div> - <div>1867.</div> - <div class='c000'>KRAUS REPRINT CO.</div> - <div class='c000'>New York</div> - <div class='c000'>1968</div> - </div> -</div> - -<div class='nf-center-c1'> -<div class='nf-center c002'> - <div class='c000'>KRAUS REPRINT CO.</div> - <div>A U.S. Division of Kraus-Thomson Organization Limited</div> - <div class='c003'>Printed in Germany</div> - <div>Lessingdruckerei in Wiesbaden</div> - </div> -</div> - -<div class='chapter'> - <h2 class='c004'>PREFACE.</h2> -</div> -<p class='c005'>In concluding the first volume of this Journal, -the editor wishes to say a few things regarding -its contents, even at the risk of repeating, -in some cases, what has already been -said. He hopes that his judgment in the -selection of articles will be, in the main, approved. -In so novel an undertaking it is not -to be expected that the proper elevation and -range will be found at once. But the editor -thinks that he has acquired some valuable experience -that will aid him in preparing the -second volume.</p> - -<p class='c006'>The reader will notice, upon looking over -the table of contents, that about one-third of -the articles relate to Art, and hence recommend -themselves more especially to those who -seek artistic culture, and wish at the same -time to have clear conceptions regarding it.</p> - -<p class='c006'>It is, perhaps, a mistake to select so little -that bears on physical science, which is by far -the most prominent topic of interest at the -present day. In order to provide for this, the -editor hopes to print in the next volume detailed -criticisms of the “Positive Philosophy,” -appreciating its advantages and defects of -method and system. The “Development -Theory,” the “Correlation of Physical, Vital -and Mental Forces,” the abstract theories in -our text-books on Natural Philosophy, regarding -the nature of attraction, centrifugal and -centripetal forces, light, heat, electricity, chemical -elements, &c., demand the investigation -of the speculative thinker. The exposition of -Hegel’s Phenomenology of Spirit will furnish -pertinent thoughts relating to method.</p> - -<p class='c006'>While the large selection of translations -has met with approval from very high sources, -yet there has been some disappointment expressed -at the lack of original articles. Considerably -more than half of the articles have -been original entirely, while all the translations -are new. The complaint, however, relates -more especially to what its authors are pleased -to call the Un-American character of the contents -of the Journal. Here the editor feels -like pleading ignorance as an excuse.—In -what books is one to find the true “American” -type of Speculative Philosophy? Certain very -honorable exceptions occur to every one, but -they are not American in a popular sense. -We, as a people, buy immense editions of -John Stuart Mill, Herbert Spencer, Comte, -Hamilton, Cousin, and others; one can trace the -appropriation and digestion of their thoughts -in all the leading articles of our Reviews, Magazines -and books of a thoughtful character. -If this is American philosophy, the editor -thinks that it may be very much elevated by -absorbing and digesting more refined aliment. -It is said that of Herbert Spencer’s works -nearly twenty thousand have been sold in this -country, while in England scarcely the first -edition has been bought. This is encouraging -for the American thinker: what lofty spiritual -culture may not become broadly and firmly -rooted here where thoughtful minds are so -numerous? Let this spirit of inquiry once -extend to thinkers like Plato and Aristotle, -Schelling and Hegel—let these be digested and -organically reproduced—and what a phalanx -of American thinkers we may have to boast -of! For after all it is not “American <i>thought</i>” -so much as American <i>thinkers</i> that we want. -To <i>think</i>, in the highest sense, is to transcend -all <i>natural limits</i>—such, for example, as national -peculiarities, defects in culture, distinctions -in Race, habits, and modes of living—to -be <i>universal</i>, so that one can dissolve away the -external hull and seize the substance itself. -The peculiarities stand in the way;—were it -not for these, we should find in Greek or German -Philosophy just the forms we ourselves -need. Our province as <i>Americans</i> is to rise to -purer forms than have hitherto been attained, -and thus speak a “solvent word” of more potency -than those already uttered. If this be -the goal we aim at, it is evident that we can -find no other means so well adapted to rid us -of our own idiosyncracies as the study of the -greatest thinkers of all ages and all times. -May this Journal aid such a consummation!</p> - -<p class='c006'>In conclusion, the editor would heartily -thank all who have assisted him in this enterprise, -by money and cheering words; he -hopes that they will not withdraw in the future -their indispensable aid. To others he -owes much for kind assistance rendered in -preparing articles for the printer. Justice -demands that special acknowledgment should -be made here of the services of Miss Anna C. -Brackett, whose skill in proof-reading, and -subtle appreciation of philosophic thought have -rendered her editorial assistance invaluable.</p> - -<p class='c006'><span class='sc'>St. Louis</span>, <i>December, 1867</i>.</p> -<div class='chapter'> - <h2 class='c004'>CONTENTS.</h2> -</div> -<table class='table0' summary=''> -<colgroup> -<col width='65%' /> -<col width='26%' /> -<col width='8%' /> -</colgroup> - <tr> - <td class='c007'>Alchemists, The</td> - <td class='c007'><i>Editor.</i></td> - <td class='c008'><a href='#Page_126'>126</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c007'>Bénard’s Essay on Hegel’s Æsthetics (translation).</td> - <td class='c007'><i>Jas. A. Martling.</i></td> - <td class='c008'><a href='#Page_36'>36</a>, <a href='#Page_91'>91</a>, <a href='#Page_169'>169</a>, <a href='#Page_221'>221</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c007'>Dialogue on Music.</td> - <td class='c007'><i>E. Sobolowski.</i></td> - <td class='c008'><a href='#Page_224'>224</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c007'>Editorials.</td> - <td class='c007'><i>Editor.</i></td> - <td class='c008'><a href='#Page_127'>127</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c007'>Fichte’s Introduction to the Science of Knowledge (translation).</td> - <td class='c007'><i>A. E. Kroeger.</i></td> - <td class='c008'><a href='#Page_23'>23</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c007'>Criticism of Philosophical Systems (translation).</td> - <td class='c007'><i>A. E. Kroeger.</i></td> - <td class='c008'><a href='#Page_79'>79</a>, <a href='#Page_137'>137</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c007'>Genesis.</td> - <td class='c007'><i>A. Bronson Alcott.</i></td> - <td class='c008'><a href='#Page_165'>165</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c007'>Goethe’s Theory of Colors.</td> - <td class='c007'><i>Editor.</i></td> - <td class='c008'><a href='#Page_63'>63</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c007'>Essay on Da Vinci’s “Last Supper” (translation).</td> - <td class='c007'><i>D. J. Snider & T. Davidson.</i></td> - <td class='c008'><a href='#Page_242'>242</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c007'>Herbert Spencer.</td> - <td class='c007'><i>Editor.</i></td> - <td class='c008'><a href='#Page_6'>6</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c007'>Introduction to Philosophy.</td> - <td class='c007'><i>Editor.</i></td> - <td class='c008'><a href='#Page_57'>57</a>, <a href='#Page_114'>114</a>, <a href='#Page_187'>187</a>, <a href='#Page_236'>236</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c007'>In the Quarry.</td> - <td class='c007'><i>Anna C. Brackett.</i></td> - <td class='c008'><a href='#Page_192'>192</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c007'>Leibnitz’s Monadology (translation).</td> - <td class='c007'><i>F. H. Hedge.</i></td> - <td class='c008'><a href='#Page_129'>129</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c007'>Letters on Faust.</td> - <td class='c007'><i>H. C. Brockmeyer.</i></td> - <td class='c008'><a href='#Page_178'>178</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c007'>Metaphysics of Materialism.</td> - <td class='c007'><i>D. G. Brinton.</i></td> - <td class='c008'><a href='#Page_176'>176</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c007'>Music as a Form of Art.</td> - <td class='c007'><i>Editor.</i></td> - <td class='c008'><a href='#Page_120'>120</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c007'>Notes on Milton’s Lycidas.</td> - <td class='c007'><i>Anna C. Brackett.</i></td> - <td class='c008'><a href='#Page_87'>87</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c007'>Paul Janet and Hegel.</td> - <td class='c007'><i>Editor.</i></td> - <td class='c008'><a href='#Page_250'>250</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c007'>Philosophy of Baader (translation from Dr. Hoffmann).</td> - <td class='c007'><i>A. Strothotte.</i></td> - <td class='c008'><a href='#Page_190'>190</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c007'>Raphael’s Transfiguration.</td> - <td class='c007'><i>Editor.</i></td> - <td class='c008'><a href='#Page_53'>53</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c007'>Schelling’s Introduction to Idealism (translation).</td> - <td class='c007'><i>Tom Davidson.</i></td> - <td class='c008'><a href='#Page_159'>159</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c007'>“ ” “ the Philosophy of Nature (transl’n).</td> - <td class='c007'><i>Tom Davidson.</i></td> - <td class='c008'><a href='#Page_193'>193</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c007'>Schopenhauer’s Dialogue on Immortality (translation).</td> - <td class='c007'><i>C. L. Bernays.</i></td> - <td class='c008'><a href='#Page_61'>61</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c007'>” Doctrine of the Will (translation).</td> - <td class='c007'><i>C. L. Bernays.</i></td> - <td class='c008'><a href='#Page_232'>232</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c007'>Seed Life.</td> - <td class='c007'><i>Anna C. Brackett.</i></td> - <td class='c008'><a href='#Page_60'>60</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c007'>Second Part of Goethe’s Faust (translation).</td> - <td class='c007'><i>D. J. Snider.</i></td> - <td class='c008'><a href='#Page_65'>65</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c007'>“The Speculative.”</td> - <td class='c007'><i>Editor.</i></td> - <td class='c008'><a href='#Page_2'>2</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c007'>Thought on Shakespeare, A</td> - <td class='c007'><i>Anna C. Brackett.</i></td> - <td class='c008'><a href='#Page_240'>240</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c007'>To the Reader.</td> - <td class='c007'><i>Editor.</i></td> - <td class='c008'><a href='#Page_1'>1</a></td> - </tr> -</table> -<div class='chapter'> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_1'>1</span> - <h2 class='c004'>THE JOURNAL OF SPECULATIVE PHILOSOPHY. <br /> Vol. I. 1867. No. 1.</h2> -</div> -<h3 class='c001'>TO THE READER.</h3> -<p class='c005'>For the reason that a journal devoted -exclusively to the interests of Speculative -Philosophy is a rare phenomenon in the -English language, some words may reasonably -be expected from the Editors upon -the scope and design of the present undertaking.</p> - -<p class='c006'>There is no need, it is presumed, to -speak of the immense religious movements -now going on in this country and in England. -The tendency to break with the -traditional, and to accept only what bears -for the soul its own justification, is widely -active, and can end only in the demand -that Reason shall find and establish a philosophical -basis for all those great ideas -which are taught as religious dogmas. Thus -it is that side by side with the naturalism of -such men as Renan, a school of mystics is -beginning to spring up who prefer to ignore -utterly all historical wrappages, and cleave -only to the speculative kernel itself. The -vortex between the traditional faith and the -intellectual conviction cannot be closed by -renouncing the latter, but only by deepening -it to speculative insight.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Likewise it will be acknowledged that -the national consciousness has moved forward -on to a new platform during the last -few years. The idea underlying our form -of government had hitherto developed -only one of its essential phases—that of -brittle individualism—in which national -unity seemed an external mechanism, -soon to be entirely dispensed with, and -the enterprise of the private man or of the -corporation substituted for it. Now we -have arrived at the consciousness of the -other essential phase, and each individual -recognizes his substantial side to be the -State as such. The freedom of the citizen -does not consist in the mere Arbitrary, but -in the realization of the rational conviction -which finds expression in established -law. That this new phase of national life -demands to be digested and comprehended, -is a further occasion for the cultivation of -the Speculative.</p> - -<p class='c006'>More significant still is the scientific -revolution, working out especially in the -domain of physics. The day of simple -empiricism is past, and with the doctrine -of “Correlation of forces” there has arisen -a stage of reflection that deepens rapidly -into the purely speculative. For the further -elucidation of this important point the -two following articles have been prepared. -It is hoped that the first one will answer -more definitely the question now arising in -the mind of the reader, “What is this -Speculative Knowing of which you speak?” -and that the second one will show whither -Natural Science is fast hastening.</p> - -<p class='c006'>With regard to the pretensions of this -Journal, its editors know well how much -its literary conduct will deserve censure -and need apology. They hope that the -substance will make up in some degree for -deficiencies in form; and, moreover, they -expect to improve in this respect through -experience and the kind criticisms of -friends.</p> -<div> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_2'>2</span> - <h3 class='c001'>THE SPECULATIVE.</h3> -</div> -<p class='c009'>“We need what Genius is unconsciously seeking, and, by some daring generalization of the -universe, shall assuredly discover, a spiritual calculus, a <i>Novum Organon</i>, whereby nature shall -be divined in the soul, the soul in God, matter in spirit, polarity resolved into unity; and that -power which pulsates in all life, animates and builds all organizations, shall manifest itself as -one universal deific energy, present alike at the outskirts and centre of the universe, whose -centre and circumference are one; omniscient, omnipotent, self-subsisting, uncontained, yet -containing all things in the unbroken synthesis of its being.”—(“<span class='sc'>Calculus</span>,” <i>one of Alcott’s -“Orphic Sayings.”</i>)</p> - -<p class='c010'>At the end of the sixth book of Plato’s -Republic, after a characterization of the -two grades of sensuous knowing and the -grade of the understanding, “which is -obliged to set out from hypotheses, for the -reason that it does not deal with principles -but only with results,” we find the speculative -grade of knowing characterized as -“that in which the soul, setting out from -an hypothesis, proceeds to an unhypothetical -principle, and makes its way without -the aid of [sensuous] images, but solely -through ideas themselves.” The mathematical -procedure which begins by hypothecating -definitions, axioms, postulates, -and the like, which it never examines nor -attempts to deduce or prove, is the example -given by Plato of the method of the Understanding, -while he makes the speculative -Reason “to posit hypotheses by the -Dialectic, <i>not as fixed principles</i>, but only -as starting points, in order that, by removing -them, it may arrive at the unhypothetical—the -principle of the universe.”</p> - -<p class='c006'>This most admirable description is fully -endorsed by Aristotle, and firmly established -in a two-fold manner:</p> - -<p class='c006'>1. In the Metaphysics (xi. 7) he shows -ontologically, starting with <i>motion</i> as an -hypothesis, that the <i>self-moved</i> is the first -principle; and this he identifies with the -speculative, and the being of God.</p> - -<p class='c006'>2. In the <i>De Anima</i> (iii. 5-8) he distinguishes -psychologically the “active intellect” -as the highest form of knowing, -as that which is its own object, (subject -and object,) and hence as containing its -own end and aim in itself—as being infinite. -He identifies this with the Speculative -result, which he found ontologically -as the Absolute.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Spinoza in his Ethics (Prop. xl. Schol. -ii., and Prop, xliv., Cor. ii. of Part II.) -has well described the Speculative, which -he names “<i>Scientia intuitiva</i>,” as the -thinking of things under the form of eternity, -(<i>De natura rationis est res sub quadam -specie æternitatis percipere.</i>)</p> - -<p class='c006'>Though great diversity is found in respect -to form and systematic exposition -among the great philosophers, yet there is -the most complete unanimity, not only -with respect to the transcendency of the -Speculative, but also with reference to the -content of its knowing. If the reader of -different systems of Philosophy has in -himself achieved some degree of Speculative -culture, he will at every step be delighted -and confirmed at the agreement of -what, to the ordinary reader, seem irreconcilable -statements.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Not only do speculative writers agree -among themselves as to the nature of -things, and the destiny of man and the -world, but their results furnish us in the -form of pure thought what the artist has -wrought out in the form of beauty. -Whether one tests architecture, sculpture, -painting, music or poetry, it is all the -same. Goethe has said:</p> - -<div class='lg-container-b c011'> - <div class='linegroup'> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'>“As all Nature’s thousand changes</div> - <div class='line in2'>But one changeless God proclaim;</div> - <div class='line'>So in Art’s wide kingdoms ranges</div> - <div class='line in2'>One sole meaning, still the same:</div> - <div class='line'>This is Truth, eternal Reason,</div> - <div class='line in2'>Which from Beauty takes its dress,</div> - <div class='line'>And serene, through time and season,</div> - <div class='line in2'>Stands for aye in loveliness.”</div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c010'>While Art presents this content to the -senses, Religion offers it to the conception -in the form of a dogma to be held by faith; -the deepest Speculative truth is allegorically -typified in a historical form, so that -it acts upon the mind partly through fantasy -and partly through the understanding. -Thus Religion presents the same -content as Art and Philosophy, but stands -between them, and forms a kind of middle -<span class='pageno' id='Page_3'>3</span>ground upon which the purification takes -place. “It is the purgatory between the -Inferno of Sense and the Paradise of Reason.” -Its function is mediation; a continual -degrading of the sensuous and external, -and an elevation to the supersensual -and internal. The transition of Religion -into Speculative Philosophy is found in -the mystics. Filled with the profound -significance of religious symbolism, and -seeing in it the explanation of the universe, -they essay to communicate their insights. -But the form of Science is not -yet attained by them. They express -themselves, not in those universal categories -that the Spirit of the Race has formed -in language for its utterance, but they -have recourse to symbols more or less inadequate -because ambiguous, and of insufficient -universality to stand for the archetypes -themselves. Thus “Becoming” is -the most pure germinal archetype, and belongs -therefore to logic, or the system of -pure thought, and it has correspondences -on concrete planes, as e.g., <i>time</i>, <i>motion</i>, -<i>life</i>, <i>&c.</i> Now if one of these concrete -terms is used for the pure logical category, -we have mysticism. The alchemists, as -shown by a genial writer of our day, use -the technique of their craft to express the -profound mysteries of spirit and its regeneration. -The Eleusinian and other mysteries -do the like.</p> - -<p class='c006'>While it is one of the most inspiring -things connected with Speculative Philosophy -to discover that the “Open Secret -of the Universe” has been read by so -many, and to see, under various expressions, -the same meaning; yet it is the -highest problem of Speculative Philosophy -to seize a method that is adequate to -the expression of the “Secret;” for its -(the content’s) own method of genetic development -must be the only adequate one. -Hence it is that we can classify philosophic -systems by their success in seizing the -content which is common to Art and Religion, -as well as to Philosophy, in such a -manner as to allow its free evolution; to -have as little in the method that is merely -formal, or extraneous to the idea itself. -The rigid formalism of Spinoza—though -manipulated by a dear speculative spirit—is -inadequate to the unfolding of its content; -for how could the mathematical -method, which is that of quantity or external -determinations alone, ever suffice to -unfold those first principles which attain -to the quantitative only in their result?</p> - -<p class='c006'>In this, the profoundest of subjects, we -always find in Plato light for the way. Although -he has not given us complete examples, -yet he has pointed out the road of -the true Speculative method in a way not -to be mistaken. Instead of setting out -with first principles presupposed as true, -by which all is to be established, (as mathematics -and such sciences do), he asserts -that the first starting points must be removed -as inadequate. We begin with the -immediate, which is utterly insufficient, -and exhibits itself as such. We ascend to -a more adequate, by removing the first -hypothesis; and this process repeats itself -until we come to the first principle, which -of course bears its own evidence in this, -that it is absolutely universal and absolutely -determined at the same time; in -other words it is the self-determining, the -“self-moved,” as Plato and Aristotle call -it. It is its own other, and hence it is the -true infinite, for it is not limited but continued -by its other.</p> - -<p class='c006'>From this peculiarity results the difficulty -of Speculative Philosophy. The unused -mind, accepting with naïveté the first proposition -as settled, finds itself brought -into confusion when this is contradicted, -and condemns the whole procedure. The -irony of Socrates, that always begins by -positing the ground of his adversary, and -reducing it through its own inadequateness -to contradict itself, is of this character, -and the unsophisticated might say, and do -say: “See how illogical is Socrates, for -he sets out to establish something, and arrives -rather at the destruction of it.” The -<i>reductio ad absurdum</i> is a faint imitation -of the same method. It is not sufficient -to prove your own system by itself, -for each of the opposing systems can do -that; but you must show that any and all -counter-hypotheses result in your own. -God makes the wrath of men to praise -Him, and all imperfect things must continually -demonstrate the perfect, for the -<span class='pageno' id='Page_4'>4</span>reason that they do not exist by reason of -their defects, but through what of truth -there is in them, and the imperfection is -continually manifesting the <i>want</i> of the -perfect. “Spirit,” says Hegel, “is self-contained -being. But matter, which is -spirit outside of itself, [turned inside out,] -continually manifests this, its inadequacy, -through gravity—attraction to a central -point beyond each particle. (If it could -get at this central point, it would have no -extension, and hence would be annihilated.)”</p> - -<p class='c006'>The soul of this method lies in the comprehension -of the negative. In that wonderful -exposé of the importance of the -negative, which Plato gives in the Parmenides -and Sophist, we see how justly -he appreciated its true place in Philosophic -Method. Spinoza’s “<i>omnis determinatio -est negatio</i>” is the most famous -of modern statements respecting the negative, -and has been very fruitful in results.</p> - -<p class='c006'>One would greatly misunderstand the -Speculative view of the negative should -he take it to mean, as some have done, -“that the negative is as essential as the -positive.” For if they are two independent -somewhats over against each other, -having equal validity, then all unity of -system is absolutely impossible—we can -have only the Persian Ahriman and Ormuzd; -nay, not even these—for unless -there is a primal unity, a “<i>Zeruane-Akerene</i>”—the -uncreated one, these are impossible -as opposites, for there can be no -tension from which the strife should proceed.</p> - -<p class='c006'>The Speculative has insight into the -constitution of the positive out of the -negative. “That which has the form of -Being,” says Hegel, “is the self-related;” -but relation of all kinds is negation, and -hence whatever has the form of being and -is a positive somewhat, is a self-related -negative. Those three stages of culture in -knowing, talked of by Plato and Spinoza, -may be characterized in a new way by -their relation to this concept.</p> - -<p class='c006'>The first stage of consciousness—that of -immediate or sensuous knowing—seizes -objects by themselves—isolatedly—without -their relations; each seems to have validity -in and for itself, and to be wholly positive -and real. The negative is the mere -absence of the real thing; and it utterly -ignores it in its scientific activity.</p> - -<p class='c006'>But the second stage traces relations, -and finds that things do not exist in immediate -independence, but that each is related -to others, and it comes to say that -“Were a grain of sand to be destroyed, -the universe would collapse.” It is a -necessary consequent to the previous stage, -for the reason that so soon as the first -stage gets over its childish engrossment -with the novelty of variety, and attempts -to seize the individual thing, it finds its -characteristic marks or properties. But -these consist invariably of relations to -other things, and it learns that these properties, -without which the thing could -have no distinct existence, are the very -destruction of its independence, since -they are its complications with other -things.</p> - -<p class='c006'>In this stage the negative has entered -and has full sway. For all that was before -firm and fixed, is now seen to be, not -through itself, but through others, and -hence the being of everything is its negation. -For if this stone exists only through -its relations to the sun, which is <i>not</i> the -stone but something else, then the being -of this stone is its own negation. But the -second stage only reduces all to dependence -and finitude, and does not show us -how any real, true, or independent being -can be found to exist. It holds fast to the -stage of mediation alone, just as the first -stage held by the <i>immediate</i>. But the -dialectic of this position forces it over -into the third.</p> - -<p class='c006'>If things exist only in their relations, -and relations are the negatives of things, -then all that appears positive—all being—must -rest upon negation. How is this? -The negative is essentially a relative, but -since it as the only substrate (for all is -relative), it can relate only to itself. But -self-relation is always identity, and here -we have the solution of the previous difficulty. -All positive forms, all forms of immediateness -or being, all forms of identity, -are self-relations, consisting of a negative -<span class='pageno' id='Page_5'>5</span>or relative, relating to itself. But the -most wonderful side of this, is the fact that -since this relation is that of the <i>negative</i>, -it <i>negates</i> itself in its very relation, and -hence its <i>identity</i> is a producing of <i>non</i>-identity. -Identity and distinction are -produced by the self-same process, and -thus <i>self-determination</i> is the origin of all -identity and distinction likewise. This -is the speculative stand-point in its completeness. -It not only possesses speculative -content, but is able to evolve a speculative -system likewise. It is not only -conscious of the principles, but of their -method, and thus all is transparent.</p> - -<p class='c006'>To suppose that this may be made so -plain that one shall see it at first sight, -would be the height of absurdity. Doubtless -far clearer expositions can be made -of this than those found in Plato or -Proclus, or even in Fichte and Hegel; but -any and every exposition must incur the -same difficulty, viz: The one who masters -it must undergo a thorough change in his -innermost. The “Palingenesia” of the -intellect is as essential as the “regeneration -of the heart,” and is at bottom the -same thing, as the mystics teach us.</p> - -<p class='c006'>But this great difference is obvious superficially: -In religious regeneration it -seems the yielding up of the self to an -alien, though beneficent, power, while in -philosophy it seems the complete identification -of one’s self with it.</p> - -<p class='c006'>He, then, who would ascend into the -thought of the best thinkers the world has -seen, must spare no pains to elevate his -thinking to the plane of pure thought. -The completest discipline for this may be -found in Hegel’s Logic. Let one not despair, -though he seem to be baffled seventy -and seven times; his earnest and vigorous -assault is repaid by surprisingly increased -strength of mental acumen which he will -be assured of, if he tries his powers on -lower planes after his attack has failed on -the highest thought.</p> - -<p class='c006'>These desultory remarks on the Speculative, -may be closed with a few illustrations -of what has been said of the negative.</p> - -<p class='c006'>I. Everything must have limits that -mark it off from other things, and these -limits are its negations, in which it ceases.</p> - -<p class='c006'>II. It must likewise have qualities which -distinguish it from others, but these -likewise are negatives in the sense that -they exclude it from them. Its determining -by means of qualities is the making -it <i>not</i> this and <i>not</i> that, but exactly what -it is. Thus the affirmation of anything is -at the same time the negation of others.</p> - -<p class='c006'>III. Not only is the negative manifest -in the above general and abstract form, -but its penetration is more specific. Everything -has distinctions from others in -general, but also from <i>its</i> other. <i>Sweet</i> is -opposed not only to other properties in -general, as <i>white</i>, <i>round</i>, <i>soft</i>, etc., but -to <i>its</i> other, or <i>sour</i>. So, too, white is -opposed to black, soft to hard, heat to -cold, etc., and in general a <i>positive</i> thing -to a <i>negative</i> thing. In this kind of relative, -the negative is more essential, for it -seems to constitute the intimate nature of -the opposites, so that each is reflected in -the other.</p> - -<p class='c006'>IV. More remarkable are the appearances -of the negative in nature. The element -<i>fire</i> is a negative which destroys the -form of the combustible. It reduces organic -substances to inorganic elements, -and is that which negates the organic. -Air is another negative element. It acts -upon all terrestrial elements; upon water, -converting it into invisible vapor; upon -metals, reducing them to earths through -corrosion—eating up iron to form rust, -rotting wood into mould—destructive -or negative alike to the mineral -and vegetable world, like fire, to which -it has a speculative affinity. The grand -type of all negatives in nature, such as -air and fire, is <i>Time</i>, the great devourer, -and archetype of all changes and -movements in nature. Attraction is -another appearance of the negative. It -is a manifestation in some body of an essential -connection with another which is -not it; or rather it is an embodied self-contradiction: -“that other (the sun) -which is not me (the earth) is my true -being.” Of course its own being is its -own negation, then.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Thus, too, the plant is negative to the -inorganic—it assimilates it; the animal is -negative to the vegetable world.</p> - -<p class='c006'><span class='pageno' id='Page_6'>6</span>As we approach these higher forms of -negation, we see the negative acting -against itself, and this constitutes a process. -The food that life requires, which -it negates in the process of digestion, and -assimilates, is, in the life process, again -negated, eliminated from the organism, -and replaced by new elements. A negation -is made, and this is again negated. -But the higher form of negation appears -in the generic; “The species lives and the -individual dies.” The generic continually -transcends the individual—going forth to -new individuals and deserting the old—a -process of birth and decay, both negative -processes. In conscious Spirit both -are united in one-movement. The generic -here enters the individual as pure <i>ego</i>—the -undetermined possibility of all determinations. -Since it is undetermined, -it is negative to all special determinations. -But this <i>ego</i> not only exists as -subject, but also as object—a process of -self-determination or self-negation. And -this negation or particularization continually -proceeds from one object to another, -and remains conscious under the whole, -not dying, as the mere animal does, in the -transition from individual to individual. -This is the <i>aperçu</i> of Immortality.</p> -<h3 class='c001'>HERBERT SPENCER.</h3> -<h4 class='c012'>CHAPTER I. <br /> THE CRISIS IN NATURAL SCIENCE.</h4> -<p class='c005'>During the past twenty years a revolution -has been working in physical science. -Within the last ten it has come to the surface, -and is now rapidly spreading into -all departments of mental activity.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Although its centre is to be found in the -doctrine of the “Correlation of Forces,” it -would be a narrow view that counted only -the expounders of this doctrine, numerous -as they are; the spirit of this movement -inspires a heterogeneous multitude—Carpenter, -Grove, Mayer, Faraday, Thompson, -Tyndall and Helmholtz; Herbert Spencer, -Stuart Mill, Buckle, Draper, Lewes, Lecky, -Max Müller, Marsh, Liebig, Darwin and -Agassiz; these names, selected at random, -are suggested on account of the extensive -circulation of their books. Every day the -press announces some new name in this -field of research.</p> - -<p class='c006'>What is the character of the old which -is displaced, and of the new which gets -established?</p> - -<p class='c006'>By way of preliminary, it must be remarked -that there are observable in modern -times three general phases of culture, -more or less historic.</p> - -<p class='c006'>The first phase is thoroughly dogmatic: -it accepts as of like validity metaphysical -abstractions, and empirical observations. -It has not arrived at such a degree of -clearness as to perceive contradictions between -form and content. For the most -part, it is characterized by a reverence for -external authority. With the revival of -learning commences the protest of spirit -against this phase. Descartes and Lord -Bacon begin the contest, and are followed -by the many—Locke, Newton, Leibnitz, -Clark, and the rest. All are animated with -the spirit of that time—to come to the -matter in hand without so much mediation. -Thought wishes to rid itself of its fetters; -religious sentiment, to get rid of forms. -This reaction against the former stage, -which has been called by Hegel the metaphysical, -finds a kind of climax in the intellectual -movement just preceding the -French revolution. Thought no longer is -contented to say “Cogito, ergo sum,” abstractly, -but applies the doctrine in all directions, -“I think; in that deed, I am.” -“I am a man only in so far as I think. In -so far as I think, I am an essence. What I -get from others is not mine. What I can -comprehend, or dissolve in my reason, that -is mine.” It looks around and spies institutions—“clothes -of spirit,” as Herr Teufelsdroeck -calls them. “What are you -doing here, you sniveling priest?” says -Voltaire: “you are imposing delusions -<span class='pageno' id='Page_7'>7</span>upon society for your own aggrandizement. -<i>I</i> had no part or lot in making the church; -<i>cogito, ergo sum</i>; I will only have over me -what I put there!”</p> - -<p class='c006'>“I see that all these complications of -society are artificial,” adds Rousseau; -“man has made them; they are not good, -and let us tear them down and make -anew.” These utterances echo all over -France and Europe. “The state is merely -a machine by which the few exploiter the -many”—“off with crowns!” Thereupon -they snatch off the crown of poor Louis, -and his head follows with it. “Reason” -is enthroned and dethroned. Thirty years -of war satiates at length this negative second -period, and the third phase begins. -Its characteristic is to be constructive, not -to accept the heritage of the past with passivity, -nor wantonly to destroy, but to -realize itself in the world of objectivity—the -world of laws and institutions.</p> - -<p class='c006'>The first appearance of the second phase -of consciousness is characterized by the -grossest inconsistencies. It says in general, -(see D’Holbach’s “Système de la Nature”): -“The immediate, only, is true; -what we know by our senses, alone has -reality; all is matter and force.” But in -this utterance it is unconscious that matter -and force are purely general concepts, and -not objects of immediate consciousness. -What we see and feel is not matter or -force in general, but only some special -form. The self-refutation of this phase -may be exhibited as follows:</p> - -<p class='c006'>I. “What is known is known through -the senses: it is matter and force.”</p> - -<p class='c006'>II. But by the senses, the particular only -is perceived, and this can never be <i>matter</i>, -but merely a <i>form</i>. The general is a mediated -result, and not an object of the senses.</p> - -<p class='c006'>III. Hence, in positing matter and force -as the content of sensuous knowing, they -unwittingly assert mediation to be the -content of immediateness.</p> - -<p class='c006'>The decline of this period of science results -from the perception of the contradiction -involved. Kant was the first to show -this; his labors in this field may be -summed up thus:</p> - -<p class='c006'>The universal and necessary is not an -empirical result. (General laws cannot be -sensuously perceived.) The constitution -of the mind itself, furnishes the ground for -it:—first, we have an <i>a priori</i> basis (time -and space) necessarily presupposed as the -condition of all sensuous perception; and -then we have categories presupposed as the -basis of every generalization whatever. -Utter any general proposition: for example -the one above quoted—“all is matter and -force”—and you merely posit two categories—Inherence -and Causality—as objectively -valid. In all universal and necessary -propositions we announce only the -subjective conditions of experience, and -not anything in and for itself true (i. e. -applicable to things in themselves).</p> - -<p class='c006'>At once the popular side of this doctrine -began to take effect. “We know only phenomena; -the true object in itself we do -not know.”</p> - -<p class='c006'>This doctrine of phenomenal knowing -was outgrown in Germany at the commencement -of the present century. In -1791—ten years after the publication of -the Critique of Pure Reason—the deep -spirit of Fichte began to generalize Kant’s -labors, and soon he announced the legitimate -results of the doctrine. Schelling -and Hegel completed the work of transforming -what Kant had left in a negative -state, into an affirmative system of truth. -The following is an outline of the refutation -of Kantian scepticism:</p> - -<p class='c006'>I. Kant reduces all objective knowledge -to phenomenal: we furnish the form of -knowing, and hence whatever we announce -in general concerning it—and all that we -call science has, of course, the form of -generality—is merely our subjective forms, -and does not belong to the thing in itself.</p> - -<p class='c006'>II. This granted, say the later philosophers, -it follows that the subjective swallows -up all and becomes itself the universal -(subject and object of itself), and -hence Reason is the true substance of the -universe. Spinoza’s <i>substance</i> is thus seen -to become <i>subject</i>. We partake of God as -intellectually seeing, and we see only God -as object, which Malebranche and Berkeley -held with other Platonists.</p> - -<p class='c006'>1. The categories (e. g. Unity, Reality, -Causality, Existence, etc.) being merely -subjective, or given by the constitution of -<span class='pageno' id='Page_8'>8</span>the mind itself—for such universals are -presupposed by all experience, and hence -not derived from it—it follows:</p> - -<p class='c006'>2. If we abstract what we know to be -subjective, that we abstract all possibility -of a thing in itself, too. For “existence” -is a category, and hence if subjective, we -may reasonably conclude that nothing objective -can have existence.</p> - -<p class='c006'>3. Hence, since one category has no preference -over another, and we cannot give -one of them objectivity without granting it -to all others, it follows that there can be -no talk of <i>noumena</i>, or of things in themselves, -<i>existing</i> beyond the reach of the -mind, for such talk merely applies what it -pronounces to be subjective categories, -(existence) while at the same time it denies -the validity of their application.</p> - -<p class='c006'>III. But since we remove the supposed -“<i>noumena</i>,” the so-called phenomena are -not opposed any longer to a correlate beyond -the intelligence, and the <i>noumenon</i> -proves to be <i>mind itself</i>.</p> - -<p class='c006'>An obvious corollary from this is, that by -the self-determination of mind in pure -thinking we shall find the fundamental -laws of all phenomena.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Though the Kantian doctrine soon gave -place in Germany to deeper insights, it -found its way slowly to other countries. -Comte and Sir Wm. Hamilton have made -the negative results very widely known—the -former, in natural science; the latter, -in literature and philosophy. Most of the -writers named at the beginning are more or -less imbued with Comte’s doctrines, while -a few follow Hamilton. For rhetorical -purposes, the Hamiltonian statement is far -superior to all others; for practical purposes, -the Comtian. The physicist wishing -to give his undivided attention to empirical -observation, desires an excuse for neglecting -pure thinking; he therefore refers -to the well-known result of philosophy, -that we cannot know anything of ultimate -causes—we are limited to phenomena and -laws. Although it must be conceded that -this consolation is somewhat similar to -that of the ostrich, who cunningly conceals -his head in the sand when annoyed -by the hunters, yet great benefit has -thereby accrued to science through the -undivided zeal of the investigators thus -consoled.</p> - -<p class='c006'>When, however, a sufficiently large collection -has been made, and the laws are -sought for in the chaotic mass of observations, -then <i>thought</i> must be had. Thought -is the only crucible capable of dissolving -“the many into the one.” Tycho Brahe -served a good purpose in collecting observations, -but a Kepler was required to discern -the celestial harmony involved therein.</p> - -<p class='c006'>This discovery of laws and relations, or -of relative unities, proceeds to the final -stage of science, which is that of the <i>absolute -comprehension</i>.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Thus modern science, commencing with -the close of the metaphysical epoch, has -three stages or phases:</p> - -<p class='c006'>I. The first rests on mere isolated facts -of experience; accepts the first phase of -things, or that which comes directly before -it, and hence may be termed the stage of -<i>immediateness</i>.</p> - -<p class='c006'>II. The second relates its thoughts to -one another and compares them; it developes -inequalities; tests one through another, -and discovers dependencies everywhere; -since it learns that the first phase -of objects is phenomenal, and depends upon -somewhat lying beyond it; since it denies -truth to the immediate, it may be -termed the stage of <i>mediation</i>.</p> - -<p class='c006'>III. A final stage which considers a phenomenon -in its totality, and thus seizes it -in its <i>noumenon</i>, and is the stage of the -<i>comprehension</i>.</p> - -<p class='c006'>To resume: the <i>first</i> is that of sensuous -knowing; the <i>second</i>, that of reflection (the -understanding); the <i>third</i>, that of the reason -(or the speculative stage).</p> - -<p class='c006'>In the sensuous knowing, we have crude, -undigested masses all co-ordinated; each -is in and for itself, and perfectly valid -without the others. But as soon as reflection -enters, dissolution is at work. -Each is thought in sharp contrast with the -rest; contradictions arise on every hand. -The third stage finds its way out of these -quarrelsome abstractions, and arrives at a -synthetic unity, at a system, wherein the -antagonisms are seen to form an organism.</p> - -<p class='c006'>The first stage of the development closes -with attempts on all hands to put the results -<span class='pageno' id='Page_9'>9</span>in an encyclopædiacal form. Humboldt’s -Cosmos is a good example of this -tendency, manifested so widely. Matter, -masses, and <i>functions</i> are the subjects of -investigation.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Reflection investigates <i>functions</i> and -seizes the abstract category of force, and -straightway we are in the second stage. -Matter, as such, loses its interest, and “correlation -of forces” absorbs all attention.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Force is an arrogant category and will -not be co-ordinated with matter; if admitted, -we are led to a pure dynamism. -This will become evident as follows:</p> - -<p class='c006'>I. Force implies confinement (to give it -direction); it demands, likewise, an “occasion,” -or soliciting force to call it into -activity.</p> - -<p class='c006'>II. But it cannot be confined except by -force; its occasion must be a force likewise.</p> - -<p class='c006'>III. Thus, since its confinement and “occasion” -are forces, force can only act upon -forces—upon matter only in so far as that -is a force. Its nature requires confinement -in order to manifest it, and hence it cannot -act or exist except in unity with other -forces which likewise have the same dependence -upon it that it has upon them. -<i>Hence a force has no independent subsistence, -but is only an element of a combination -of opposed forces</i>, which combination is a -unity existing in an opposed manner (or -composed of forces in a state of tension). -This deeper unity which we come upon as -the ground of force is properly named <i>law</i>.</p> - -<p class='c006'>From this, two corollaries are to be -drawn: (1.) That matter is merely a name -for various forces, as resistance, attraction -and repulsion, etc. (2.) That force is no -ultimate category, but, upon reflection, is -seen to rest upon law as a deeper category -(not law as a mere similarity of phenomena, -but as a true unity underlying -phenomenal multiplicity).</p> - -<p class='c006'>From the nature of the category of force -we see that whoever adopts it as the ultimate, -embarks on an ocean of dualism, and -instead of “seeing everywhere the one and -all” as did Xenophanes, he will see everywhere -the self opposed, the contradictory.</p> - -<p class='c006'>The crisis which science has now reached -is of this nature. The second stage is at -its commencement with the great bulk of -scientific men.</p> - -<p class='c006'>To illustrate the self-nugatory character -ascribed to this stage we shall adduce -some of the most prominent positions of -Herbert Spencer, whom we regard as the -ablest exponent of this movement. These -contradictions are not to be deprecated, as -though they indicated a decline of thought; -on the contrary, they show an increased activity, -(though in the stage of mere reflection,) -and give us good omens for the future. -The era of stupid mechanical thinkers is -over, and we have entered upon the active, -<i>chemical</i> stage of thought, wherein the -thinker is trained to consciousness concerning -his abstract categories, which, as -Hegel says, “drive him around in their -whirling circle.”</p> - -<p class='c006'>Now that the body of scientific men are -turned in this direction, we behold a vast -upheaval towards philosophic thought; and -this is entirely unlike the isolated phenomenon -(hitherto observed in history) of a -single group of men lifted above the surrounding -darkness of their age into clearness. -We do not have such a phenomenon -in our time; it is the spirit of the nineteenth -century to move by masses.</p> -<h4 class='c012'>CHAPTER II. <br /> THE “FIRST PRINCIPLES” OF THE “UNKNOWABLE.”</h4> -<p class='c005'>The <i>British Quarterly</i> speaking of Spencer, -says: “These ‘First Principles’ are -merely the foundation of a system of Philosophy, -bolder, more elaborate and comprehensive, -perhaps, than any other which -has been hitherto designed in England.”</p> - -<p class='c006'>The persistence and sincerity, so generally -prevailing among these correlationists, -we have occasion to admire in Herbert -Spencer. He seems to be always ready to -sacrifice his individual interest for truth, -and is bold and fearless in uttering, what -he believes it to be.</p> - -<p class='c006'>For critical consideration no better division -can be found than that adopted in the -“First Principles” by Mr. Spencer himself, -to wit: 1st, the unknowable, 2nd, the knowable. -<span class='pageno' id='Page_10'>10</span>Accordingly, let us examine first his -theory of</p> -<h4 class='c012'>THE UNKNOWABLE.</h4> -<p class='c005'>When Mr. Spencer announces the content -of the “unknowable” to be “ultimate -religious and scientific ideas,” we are reminded -at once of the old adage in jurisprudence—“<i>Omnis -definitio in jure civili -est periculosa</i>;” the definition is liable to -prove self-contradictory in practice. So -when we have a content assigned to the -unknowable we at once inquire, whence -come the distinctions in the unknowable? -If unknown they are not distinct to us. -When we are told that Time, Space, Force, -Matter, God, Creation, etc., are unknowables, -we must regard these words as corresponding -to no distinct objects, but -rather as all of the same import to us. It -should be always borne in mind that <i>all -universal negatives are self-contradictory</i>. -Moreover, since all judgments are made by -subjective intelligences, it follows that all -general assertions concerning the nature -of the intellect affect the judgment itself. -The naïveté with which certain writers -wield these double-edged weapons is a -source of solicitude to the spectator.</p> - -<p class='c006'>When one says that he knows that he -knows nothing, he asserts knowledge and -denies it in the same sentence. If one -says “all knowledge is relative,” as Spencer -does, (p. 68, <i>et seq.</i>, of First Principles,) -he of course asserts that his knowledge of -the fact is relative and not absolute. If a -distinct content is asserted of ignorance, -the same contradiction occurs.</p> - -<p class='c006'>The perception of this principle by the -later German philosophers at once led -them out of the Kantian nightmare, into -positive truth. The principle may be applied -in general to any subjective scepticism. -The following is a general scheme -that will apply to all particular instances:</p> - -<p class='c006'>I. “We cannot know things in themselves; -all our knowledge is subjective; it -is confined to our own states and changes.”</p> - -<p class='c006'>II. If this is so, then still more is what -we name the “objective” only a state or -change of us as subjective; it is a mere -fiction of the mind so far as it is regarded -as a “beyond” or thing in itself.</p> - -<p class='c006'>III. Hence we <i>do</i> know the objective; -for the scepticism can only legitimately -conclude that the objective which we do -know is of a nature kindred with reason; -and that by an <i>a priori</i> necessity we can -affirm that not only all knowable must -have this nature, but also <i>all possible existence</i> -must.</p> - -<p class='c006'>In this we discover that the mistake on -the part of the sceptic consists in taking -self-conscious intelligence as something -one-sided or subjective, whereas it must -be, according to its very definition, subject -and object in one, and thus universal.</p> - -<p class='c006'>The difficulty underlying this stage of -consciousness is that the mind has not -been cultivated to a clear separation of -the imagination from the thinking. As -Sir Wm. Hamilton remarks, (Metaphysics, -p. 487,) “Vagueness and confusion are -produced by the confounding of objects so -different as the images of sense and the -unpicturable notions of intelligence.”</p> - -<p class='c006'>Indeed the great “law of the conditioned” -so much boasted of by that philosopher -himself and his disciples, vanishes at -once when the mentioned confusion is -avoided. Applied to space it results as -follows:</p> - -<p class='c006'>I.—<i>Thought of Space.</i></p> - -<p class='c006'>1. Space, if finite, must be limited from -without;</p> - -<p class='c006'>2. But such external limitations would -require space to exist in;</p> - -<p class='c006'>3. And hence the supposed limits of -space that were to make it finite do in fact -<i>continue it</i>.</p> - -<p class='c006'>It appears, therefore, that space is of -such a nature that it can only end in, or be -limited by <i>itself</i> and thus is universally -<i>continuous</i> or <i>infinite</i>.</p> - -<p class='c006'>II.—<i>Imagination of Space.</i></p> - -<p class='c006'>If the result attained by pure thought is -correct, space is infinite, and if so, it cannot -be imagined. If, however, it should -be found possible to compass it by imagination, -it must be conceded that there -really is a contradiction in the intelligence. -That the result of such an attempt coincides -with our anticipations we have Hamilton’s -testimony—“imagination sinks exhausted.”</p> - -<p class='c006'>Therefore, instead of this result contradicting -<span class='pageno' id='Page_11'>11</span>the first, as Hamilton supposes, it -really confirms it.</p> - -<p class='c006'>In fact if the mind is disciplined to -separate pure thinking from mere imagining, -the infinite is not difficult to think. -Spinoza saw and expressed this by making -a distinction between “infinitum actu -(or rationis),” and “infinitum imaginationis,” -and his first and second axioms -are the immediate results of thought elevated -to this clearness. This distinction -and his “<i>omnis determinatio est negatio</i>,” -together with the development of the third -stage of thinking (according to reason), -“<i>sub quadam specie æternitatis</i>,”—these -distinctions are the priceless legacy of the -clearest-minded thinker of modern times; -and it behooves the critic of “human -knowing” to consider well the results that -the “human mind” has produced through -those great masters—Plato and Aristotle, -Spinoza and Hegel.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Herbert Spencer, however, not only betrays -unconsciousness of this distinction, -but employs it in far grosser and self-destructive -applications. On page 25, -(“First Principles,”) he says: “When on -the sea shore we note how the hulls of distant -vessels are hidden below the horizon, -and how of still remoter vessels only the -uppermost sails are visible, we realize with -tolerable clearness the slight curvature of -that portion of the sea’s surface which lies -before us. But when we seek in imagination -to follow out this curved surface as it -actually exists, slowly bending round until -all its meridians meet in a point eight -thousand miles below our feet, we find -ourselves utterly baffled. We cannot conceive -in its real form and magnitude even -that small segment of our globe which extends -a hundred miles on every side of us, -much less the globe as a whole. The piece -of rock on which we stand can be mentally -represented with something like completeness; -we find ourselves able to think of -its top, its sides, and its under surface at -the same time, or so nearly at the same -time that they seem all present in consciousness -together; and so we can form -what we call a conception of the rock, but -to do the like with the earth we find impossible.” -“We form of the earth not a -conception properly so-called, but only a -symbolic conception.”</p> - -<p class='c006'>Conception here is held to be adequate -when it is formed of an object of a given -size; when the object is above that size the -conception thereof becomes symbolical. -Here we do not have the exact limit stated, -though we have an example given (a rock) -which is conceivable, and another (the -earth) which is not.</p> - -<p class='c006'>“We must predicate nothing of objects -too great or too multitudinous to be mentally -represented, or we must make our -predications by means of extremely inadequate -representations of such objects, mere -symbols of them.” (27 page.)</p> - -<p class='c006'>But not only is the earth an indefinitely -multiple object, but so is the rock; nay, -even the smallest grain of sand. Suppose -the rock to be a rod in diameter; microscope -magnifying two and a half millions -of diameters would make its apparent magnitude -as large as the earth. It is thus -only a question of relative distance from -the person conceiving, and this reduces it -to the mere sensuous image of the retina. -Remove the earth to the distance of the -moon, and our conception of it would, upon -these principles, become quite adequate. -But if our conception of the moon be held -inadequate, then must that of the rock or -the grain of sand be equally inadequate.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Whatever occupies space is continuous -and discrete; i. e., may be divided into -parts. It is hence a question of relativity -whether the image or picture of it correspond -to it.</p> - -<p class='c006'>The legitimate conclusion is that all our -conceptions are symbolic, and if that property -invalidates their reliability, it follows -that we have no reliable knowledge -of things perceived, whether great or small.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Mathematical knowledge is conversant -with pure lines, points, and surfaces; hence -it must rest on inconceivables.</p> - -<p class='c006'>But Mr. Spencer would by no means concede -that we do not know the shape of the -earth, its size, and many other inconceivable -things about it. Conception is thus -no criterion of knowledge, and all built -upon this doctrine (i. e. depending upon -the conceivability of a somewhat) falls to -the ground.</p> - -<p class='c006'><span class='pageno' id='Page_12'>12</span>But he applies it to the questions of the -divisibility of matter (page 50): “If we -say that matter is infinitely divisible, we -commit ourselves to a supposition not -realizable in thought. We can bisect and -rebisect a body, and continually repeating -the act until we reduce its parts to a size -no longer physically divisible, may then -mentally continue the process without -limit.”</p> - -<p class='c006'>Setting aside conceivability as indifferent -to our knowledge or thinking, we have -the following solution of this point:</p> - -<p class='c006'>I. That which is extended may be bisected -(i. e. has two halves).</p> - -<p class='c006'>II. Thus two extensions arise, which, in -turn, have the same property of divisibility -that the first one had.</p> - -<p class='c006'>III. Since, then, bisection is a process -entirely indifferent to the nature of extension -(i. e. does not change an extension -into two non-extendeds), it follows that -body is infinitely divisible.</p> - -<p class='c006'>We do not have to test this in imagination -to verify it; and this very truth must -be evident to him who says that the progress -must be “continued without limit.” -For if we examine the general conditions -under which any such “infinite progress” -is possible, we find them to rest upon the -presupposition of a real infinite, thus:</p> -<h4 class='c012'>Infinite Progress.</h4> -<p class='c005'>I. Certain attributes are found to belong -to an object, and are not affected by -a certain process. (For example, divisibility -as a process in space does not affect -the continuity of space, which makes that -process possible. Or again, the process of -limiting space does not interfere with its -continuity, for space will not permit any -limit except space itself.)</p> - -<p class='c006'>II. When the untutored reflection endeavors -to apprehend a relation of this -nature, it seizes one side of the dualism -and is hurled to the other. (It bisects -space, and then finds itself before two objects -identical in nature with the first; it -has effected nothing; it repeats the process, -and, by and by getting exhausted, -wonders whether it could meet a different -result if its powers of endurance were -greater. Or else suspecting the true case, -says; “no other result would happen if I -went on forever.”)</p> - -<p class='c006'>III. Pure thought, however, grasps this -process as a totality, and sees that it only -arises through a self-relation. The “progress” -is nothing but a return to itself, -the same monotonous round. It would be -a similar attempt to seek the end of a circle -by travelling round it, and one might -make the profound remark: “If my powers -were equal to the task, I should doubtless -come to the end.” This difficulty -vanishes as soon as the experience is made -that the line returns into itself. “It is the -same thing whether said once or repeated -forever,” says Simplicius, treating of this -paradox.</p> - -<p class='c006'>The “Infinite Progress” is the most -stubborn fortress of Scepticism. By it -our negative writers establish the impotency -of Reason for various ulterior purposes. -Some wish to use it as a lubricating -fluid upon certain religious dogmas -that cannot otherwise be swallowed. Others -wish to save themselves the trouble of -thinking out the solutions to the Problem -of Life. But the Sphinx devours him who -does not faithfully grapple with, and solve -her enigmas.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Mephistopheles (a good authority on this -subject) says of Faust, whom he finds -grumbling at the littleness of man’s mind:</p> - -<div class='lg-container-b c011'> - <div class='linegroup'> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'>“Verachte nur Vernunft und Wissenchaft,</div> - <div class='line'>Des Menschen allerhöchste Kraft!</div> - <div class='line'>Und hätt’er sich auch nicht dem Teufel übergeben,</div> - <div class='line'>Er müsste doch zu Grunde gehen.”</div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c010'>Only prove that there is a large field of -the unknowable and one has at once the -<i>vade mecum</i> for stupidity. Crude reflection -can pour in its distinctions into a subject, -and save itself from the consequences -by pronouncing the basis incomprehensible. -It also removes <i>all</i> possibility of -Theology, or of the Piety of the Intellect, -and leaves a very narrow margin for religious -sentiment, or the Piety of the -Heart.</p> - -<p class='c006'>The stage of Science represented by the -French Encyclopædists was immediately -hostile to each and every form of religion. -This second stage, however, has a choice. -It can, like Hamilton or Mansel, let religious -belief alone, as pertaining to the -<span class='pageno' id='Page_13'>13</span>unknown and unknowable—which may be -<i>believed</i> in as much as one likes; or it may -“strip off,” as Spencer does, “determinations -from a religion,” by which it is distinguished -from other religions, and show -their truth to consist in a common doctrine -held by all, to-wit: “The truth of -things is unknowable.”</p> - -<p class='c006'>Thus the scientific man can baffle all attacks -from the religious standpoint; nay, -he can even elicit the most unbounded approval, -while he saps the entire structure -of Christianity.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Says Spencer (p. 46): “Science and Religion -agree in this, that the power which -the Universe manifests to us is utterly inscrutable.” -He goes on to show that -though this harmony exists, yet it is -broken by the inconsistency of Religion: -“For every religion, setting out with the -tacit assertion of a mystery, forthwith -proceeds to give some solution of this -mystery, and so asserts that it is not a -mystery passing human comprehension.” -In this confession he admits that all religions -agree in professing to <i>reveal</i> the solution -of the Mystery of the Universe to man; -and they agree, moreover, that man, as -simply a being of sense and reflection, cannot -comprehend the revelation; but that -he must first pass through a profound mediation—be -<i>regenerated</i>, not merely in his -heart, but in <i>intellect</i> also. The misty -limitations (“vagueness and confusion”) -of the imagination must give way to the -purifying dialectic of pure thought before -one can see the Eternal Verities.</p> - -<p class='c006'>These revelations profess to make known -the nature of the Absolute. They call the -Absolute “Him,” “Infinite,” “Self-created,” -“Self-existent,” “Personal,” and -ascribe to this “Him” attributes implying -profound mediation. All definite forms -of religion, all definite theology, must at -once be discarded according to Spencer’s -principle. Self-consciousness, even, is regarded -as impossible by him (p. 65): -“Clearly a true cognition of self implies a -state in which the knowing and known are -one, in which subject and object are identified; -and this Mr. Mansel rightly holds -to be the annihilation of both.” He considers -it a degradation (p. 109) to apply -personality to God: “Is it not possible -that there is a mode of being as much -transcending intelligence and will as these -transcend mechanical motion?” And -again (p. 112) he holds that the mere -“negation of absolute knowing contains -more religion than all dogmatic theology.” -(P. 121,) “All religions are envelopes of -truth, which reveal to the lower and conceal -to the higher.” (P. 66,) “Objective -and subjective things are alike inscrutable -in their substance and genesis.” “Ultimate -religious and scientific ideas (p. 68) -alike turn out to be mere symbols of the -actual, and not cognitions of it.” (P. 69,) -“We come to the negative result that the -reality existing behind all appearances -must ever be unknown.”</p> - -<p class='c006'>In these passages we see a dualism posited -in this form: “Everything immediate -is <i>phenomenal</i>, a manifestation of the hidden -and inscrutable essence.” This essence -is the unknown and unknowable; -yet it <i>manifests</i> itself in the immediate or -phenomenal.</p> - -<p class='c006'>The first stage of thought was unconscious -that it dealt all the time with a -mediated result (a dualism) while it assumed -an immediate; that it asserted all -truth to lie in the sensuous object, while it -named at the same time “<i>matter</i> and <i>force</i>,” -categories of reflection.</p> - -<p class='c006'>The second stage has got over <i>that</i> difficulty, -but has fallen into another. For -if the phenomenon <i>manifested</i> the essence, -it could not be said to be “unknowable, -hidden, and inscrutable.” But if the essence -is <i>not</i> manifested by the phenomenon, -then we have the so-called phenomenon -as a self-existent, and therefore independent -of the so-called essence, which -stands coördinated to it as another existent, -which cannot be known because it -does not manifest itself to us. Hence the -“phenomenon” is no <i>phenomenon</i>, or -manifestation of aught but itself, and the -“essence” is simply a fiction of the philosopher.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Hence his talk about essence is purely -gratuitous, for there is not shown the need -of one.</p> - -<p class='c006'>A dialectical consideration of essence -and phenomenon will result as follows:</p> -<div> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_14'>14</span> - <h4 class='c012'>Essence and Phenomenon.</h4> -</div> -<p class='c005'>I. If essence is seized as independent -or absolute being, it may be taken in two -senses:</p> - -<p class='c006'><i>a.</i> As entirely unaffected by “otherness” -(or limitation) and entirely undetermined; -and this would be pure nothing, -for it cannot distinguish itself or be distinguished -from pure nothing.</p> - -<p class='c006'><i>b.</i> As relating to itself, and hence -making itself a duality—becoming its own -other; in this case the “other” is a vanishing -one, for it is at the same time identical -and non-identical—a process in -which the essence may be said to appear -or become <i>phenomenal</i>. The entire process -is the absolute or self-related (and -hence independent). It is determined, but -by itself, and hence not in a finite manner.</p> - -<p class='c006'>II. The Phenomenon is thus seen to -arise through the self-determination of -essence, and has obviously the following -characteristics:</p> - -<p class='c006'><i>a.</i> It is the “other” of the essence, and -yet the own self of the essence existing in -this opposed manner, and thus self-nugatory; -and this non-abiding character gives -it the name of phenomenon (or that which -merely <i>appears</i>, but is no permanent essence).</p> - -<p class='c006'><i>b.</i> If this were simply another to the -essence, and not the self-opposition of the -same, then it would be through itself, and -<i>itself</i> the essence in its first (or immediate) -phase. But this is the essence only as negated, -or as returned from the otherness.</p> - -<p class='c006'><i>c.</i> This self-nugatoriness is seen to arise -from the contradiction involved in its being -other to itself, i. e. outside of its true -being. <i>Without</i> this self-nugatoriness it -would be an abiding, an essence itself, and -hence no phenomenon; <i>with</i> this self-nugatoriness -the phenomenon simply exhibits -or “manifests” the essence; in fact, -with the appearance and its negation taken -together, we have before us a totality of -essence and phenomenon.</p> - -<p class='c006'>III. Therefore: <i>a.</i> The phenomenal is -such because it is not an abiding somewhat. -It is dependent upon other or essence. -<i>b.</i> Whatever it posesses belongs -to that upon which it depends, i. e. belongs -to essence. <i>c.</i> In the self-nugatoriness -of the phenomenal we have the entire -essence manifested.</p> - -<p class='c006'>This latter point is the important result, -and may-be stated in a less strict and more -popular form thus: The real world (so-called) -is said to be in a state of change—origination -and decay. Things pass away -and others come in their places. Under -this change, however, there is a permanent -called Essence.</p> - -<p class='c006'>The imaginative thinking finds it impossible -to realize such an abiding as exists -through the decay of all external form, -and hence pronounces it unknowable. But -pure thought seizes it, and finds it a pure -self-relation or process of return to itself, -which accordingly has duality, thus: -<i>a.</i> The positing or producing of a somewhat -or an immediate, and, <i>b.</i> The cancelling -of the same. In this duality of beginning -and ceasing, this self-relation -completes its circle, and is thus, <i>c.</i> the entire -movement.</p> - -<p class='c006'>All categories of the understanding -(cause and effect, matter and form, possibility, -etc.) are found to contain this -movement when dissolved. And hence -they have self-determination for their presupposition -and explanation. It is unnecessary -to add that unless one gives up -trying to <i>imagine</i> truth, that this is all -very absurd reasoning. (At the end of the -sixth book of Plato’s Republic, ch. xxi., -and in the seventh book, ch. xiii., one may -see how clearly this matter was understood -two thousand, and more, years ago.)</p> - -<p class='c006'>To manifest or reveal is to make known; -and hence to speak of the “manifestation -of a hidden and inscrutable essence” is to -speak of the making known of an unknowable.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Mr. Spencer goes on; no hypothesis of -the universe is possible—creation not conceivable, -for that would be something out -of nothing—self-existence not conceivable, -for that involves unlimited past time.</p> - -<p class='c006'>He holds that “all knowledge is <i>relative</i>,” -for all explanation is the reducing -of a cognition to a more general. He says, -(p. 69,) “Of necessity, therefore, explanation -must eventually bring us down to the -inexplicable—the deepest truth which we -<span class='pageno' id='Page_15'>15</span>can get at must be unaccountable.” This -much valued insight has a positive side as -well as the negative one usually developed:</p> - -<p class='c006'>I. (<i>a.</i>) To explain something we subsume -it under a more general.</p> - -<p class='c006'>(<i>b.</i>) The “<i>summum genus</i>” cannot be -subsumed, and</p> - -<p class='c006'>(<i>c.</i>) Hence is inexplicable.</p> - -<p class='c006'>II. But those who conclude from this -that we base our knowledge ultimately -upon faith (from the supposed fact than we -cannot prove our premises) forget that—</p> - -<p class='c006'>(<i>a.</i>) If the subsuming process ends in an -unknown, then all the subsuming has resulted -in nothing; for to subsume something -under an unknown does not explain -it. (Plato’s Republic, Book VII, chap. xiii.)</p> - -<p class='c006'>(<i>b.</i>) The more general, however, is the -more simple, and hence the “<i>summum -genus</i>” is the purely simple—it is Being. -But the simpler the clearer, and the pure -simple is the absolutely clear.</p> - -<p class='c006'>(<i>c.</i>) At the “<i>summum genus</i>” subsumption -becomes the principle of identity—being -is being; and thus stated we have -simple self-relation as the origin of all -clearness and knowing whatsoever.</p> - -<p class='c006'>III. Hence it is seen that it is not the -mere fact of subsumption that makes something -clear, but rather it is the reduction -of it to identity.</p> - -<p class='c006'>In pure being as the <i>summum genus</i>, the -mind contemplates the pure form of knowing—“a -is a,” or “a subject is a predicate”—(a -is b). The pure “is” is the -empty form of mental affirmation, the pure -copula; and thus in the <i>summum genus</i> -the mind recognizes the pure form of itself. -All objectivity is at this point dissolved -into the thinking, and hence the subsumption -becomes identity—(being = <i>ego</i>, or “<i>cogito, -ergo sum</i>”;) the process turns round -and becomes synthetic, (“dialectic” or -“genetic,” as called by some). From this -it is evident that self-consciousness is the -basis of all knowledge.</p> -<h4 class='c012'>CHAPTER III. <br /> THE “FIRST PRINCIPLES” OF THE “KNOWABLE.”</h4> -<p class='c005'>As might be expected from Spencer’s -treatment of the <i>unknowable</i>, the <i>knowable</i> -will prove a confused affair; especially -since to the above-mentioned “inscrutability” -of the absolute, he adds the doctrine -of an “obscure consciousness of it,” -holding, in fact, that the knowable is only -a relative, and that it cannot be known -without at the same time possessing a -knowledge of the unknowable.</p> - -<p class='c006'>(P. 82) he says: “A thought involves -relation, difference and likeness; whatever -does not present each of them does -not admit of cognition. And hence we -may say that the unconditioned as presenting -none of these, is trebly unthinkable.” -And yet he says, (p. 96): “The relative is -itself inconceivable except as related to a -real non-relative.”</p> - -<p class='c006'>We will leave this infinite self-contradiction -thus developed, and turn to the positions -established concerning the knowable. -They concern the nature of Force, Matter -and Motion, and the predicates set up are -“persistence,” “indestructibility” and -similar.</p> -<h4 class='c012'>THE KNOWABLE.</h4> -<p class='c005'>Although in the first part “conceivability” -was shown to be utterly inadequate -as a test of truth; that with it we could not -even establish that the earth is round, or -that space is infinitely continuous, yet here -Mr. Spencer finds that inconceivability is -the most convenient of all positive proofs.</p> - -<p class='c006'>The first example to be noticed is his -proof of the compressibility of matter (p. -51): “It is an established mechanical -truth that if a body moving at a given velocity, -strikes an equal body at rest in -such wise that the two move on together, -their joint velocity will be but half that of -the striking body. Now it is a law of -which the negative is inconceivable, that -in passing from any one degree of magnitude -to another all intermediate degrees -must be passed through. Or in the case -before us, a body moving at velocity 4, -cannot, by collision, be reduced to velocity -2, without passing through all velocities -between 4 and 2. But were matter truly -solid—were its units absolutely incompressible -and in unbroken contact—this -‘law of continuity, as it is called, would -be broken in every case of collision. For -when, of two such units, one moving at velocity -<span class='pageno' id='Page_16'>16</span>4 strikes another at rest, the striking -unit must have its velocity 4 instantaneously -reduced to velocity 2; must pass -from velocity 4 to velocity 2 without any -lapse of time, and without passing through -intermediate velocities; must be moving -with velocities 4 and 2 at the same instant, -which is impossible.” On page 57 he acknowledges -that any transition from one -rate of motion to another is inconceivable; -hence it does not help the matter to “pass -through intermediate velocities.” It is -just as great a contradiction and just as -inconceivable that velocity 4 should become -velocity 3.9999+, as it is that it -should become velocity 2; for no change -whatever of the motion can be thought (as -he confesses) without having two motions -in one time. Motion, in fact, is the synthesis -of place and time, and cannot be -comprehended except as their unity. The -argument here quoted is only adduced by -Mr. S. for the purpose of antithesis to other -arguments on the other side as weak as -itself.</p> - -<p class='c006'>On page 241, Mr. Spencer deals with the -question of the destructibility of matter: -“The annihilation of matter is unthinkable -for the same reason that the creation -of matter is unthinkable.” (P. 54): “Matter -in its ultimate nature is as absolutely -incomprehensible as space and time.” The -nature of matter is unthinkable, its creation -or destructibility is unthinkable, and -in this style of reasoning we can add that -its <i>indestructibility</i> is likewise unthinkable; -in fact the argument concerning self-existence -will apply here. (P. 31): “Self-existence -necessarily means existence without -a beginning; and to form a conception -of self-existence is to form a conception of -existence without a beginning. Now by -no mental effort can we do this. To conceive -existence through infinite past time, -implies the conception of infinite past time, -which is an impossibility.” Thus, too, -we might argue in a strain identical; indestructibility -implies existence through -infinite future time, but by no mental effort -can infinite time be conceived. And thus, -too, we prove and disprove the persistence -of force and motion. When occasion requires, -the ever-convenient argument of -“inconceivability” enters. It reminds -one of Sir Wm. Hamilton’s “imbecility” -upon which are based “sundry of the most -important phenomena of intelligence,” -among which he mentions the category of -causality. If causality is founded upon -imbecility, and all experience upon <i>it</i>, it -follows that all empirical knowledge rests -upon imbecility.</p> - -<p class='c006'>On page 247, our author asserts that the -first law of motion “is in our day being -merged in the more general one, that motion, -like matter, is indestructible.” It is -interesting to observe that this so-called -“First law of motion” rests on no better -basis than very crude reflection.</p> - -<p class='c006'>“When not influenced by external forces, -a moving body will go on in a straight -line with a uniform velocity,” is Spencer’s -statement of it.</p> - -<p class='c006'>This abstract, supposed law has necessitated -much scaffolding in Natural Philosophy -that is otherwise entirely unnecessary; -it contradicts the idea of momentum, -and is thus refuted:</p> - -<p class='c006'>I. A body set in motion continues in -motion after the impulse has ceased from -without, for the reason that it retains momentum.</p> - -<p class='c006'>II. Momentum is the product of weight -by velocity, and weight is the attraction of -the body in question to another body external -to it. If all bodies external to the -moving body were entirely removed, the -latter would have no weight, and hence -the product of weight by velocity would -be zero.</p> - -<p class='c006'>III. The “external influences” referred -to in the so-called “law,” mean chiefly -attraction. Since no body could have momentum -except through weight, another -name for attraction, it follows that all free -motion has reference to another body, and -hence is curvilinear; thus we are rid of -that embarrassing “straight line motion” -which gives so much trouble in mechanics. -It has all to be reduced back again through -various processes to curvilinear movement.</p> - -<p class='c006'>We come, finally, to consider the central -point of this system:</p> -<h4 class='c012'>THE CORRELATION OF FORCES.</h4> -<p class='c005'>Speaking of persistence of force, Mr. -Spencer concedes (p. 252) that this doctrine -<span class='pageno' id='Page_17'>17</span>is not demonstrable from experience. -He says (p. 254): “Clearly the persistence -of force is an ultimate truth of which no -inductive proof is possible.” (P. 255): -“By the persistence of force we really -mean the persistence of some power which -transcends our knowledge and conception.” -(P. 257): “The indestructibility of matter -and the continuity of motion we saw to be -really corollaries from the impossibility of -establishing in thought a relation between -something and nothing.” (Thus what -was established as a mental impotence is -now made to have objective validity.) -“Our inability to conceive matter and -motion destroyed is our inability to suppress -consciousness itself.” (P. 258): -“Whoever alleges that the inability to conceive -a beginning or end of the universe -is a <i>negative</i> result of our mental structure, -cannot deny that our consciousness -of the universe as persistent is a positive -result of our mental structure. And this -persistence of the universe is the persistence -of that unknown cause, power, or -force, which is manifested to us through -all phenomena.” This “positive result of -our mental structure” is said to rest on -our “inability to conceive the limitation -of consciousness” which is “simply the -obverse of our inability to put an end to -the thinking subject while still continuing -to think.” (P. 257): “To think of something -becoming nothing, would involve -that this substance of consciousness having -just existed under a given form, should -next assume no form, or should cease to -be consciousness.”</p> - -<p class='c006'>It will be observed here that he is endeavoring -to solve the First Antinomy of -Kant, and that his argument in this place -differs from Kant’s proof of the “Antithesis” -in this, that while Kant proves that -“The world [or universe] has no beginning,” -etc., by the impossibility of the -origination of anything in a “void time,” -that Mr. Spencer proves the same thing by -asserting it to be a “positive result of our -mental structure,” and then proceeds to -show that this is a sort of “inability” -which has a subjective explanation; it is, -according to him, merely the “substance -of consciousness” objectified and regarded -as the law of reality.</p> - -<p class='c006'>But how is it with the “Thesis” to that -Antinomy, “The world <i>has</i> a beginning -in time?” Kant proves this apagogically -by showing the absurdity of an “infinite -series already elapsed.” That our -author did not escape the contradiction -has already been shown in our remarks -upon the “indestructibility of matter.” -While he was treating of the unknowable -it was his special province to prove that -self-existence is unthinkable. (P. 31): He -says it means “existence without a beginning,” -and “to conceive existence through -infinite past time, implies the conception -of infinite past time, which is an impossibility.” -Thus we have the Thesis of the -Antinomy supported in his doctrine of the -“unknowable,” and the antithesis of the -same proved in the doctrine of the knowable.</p> - -<p class='c006'>We shall next find him involved with -Kant’s Third Antinomy.</p> - -<p class='c006'>The doctrine of the correlation is stated -in the following passages:</p> - -<p class='c006'>(P. 280): “Those modes of the unknowable, -which we call motion, heat, -light, chemical affinity, etc., are alike -transformable into each other, and into -those modes of the unknowable which we -distinguish as sensation, emotion, thought: -these, in their turns, being directly or indirectly -re-transformable into the original -shapes. That no idea or feeling arises, -save as a result of some physical force expended -in producing it, is fast becoming a -common-place of science; and whoever -duly weighs the evidence, will see that -nothing but an overwhelming bias in favor -of a preconceived theory can explain its -non-acceptance. How this metamorphosis -takes place—how a force existing as motion, -heat, or light, can become a mode of -consciousness—how it is possible for aërial -vibrations to generate the sensation we -call sound, or for the forces liberated by -chemical changes in the brain to give rise -to emotion—these are mysteries which it -is impossible to fathom.” (P. 284): “Each -manifestation of force can be interpreted -only as the effect of some antecedent force; -<span class='pageno' id='Page_18'>18</span>no matter whether it be an inorganic action, -an animal movement, a thought, or a -feeling. Either this must be conceded, or -else it must be asserted that our successive -states of consciousness are self-created.” -“Either mental energies as well as bodily -ones are quantitatively correlated to certain -energies expended in their production, -and to certain other energies they initiate; -or else nothing must become something -and something, nothing. Since persistence -of force, being a <i>datum</i> of consciousness, -cannot be denied, its unavoidable corollary -must be accepted.”</p> - -<p class='c006'>On p. 294 he supports the doctrine that -“motion takes the direction of the least -resistance,” mentally as well as physically.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Here are some of the inferences to be -drawn from the passages quoted:</p> - -<p class='c006'>1. Every act is determined from without, -and hence does not belong to the subject -in which it manifests itself.</p> - -<p class='c006'>2. To change the course of a force, is to -make another direction “that of the least -resistance,” or to remove or diminish a -resistance.</p> - -<p class='c006'>3. But to change a resistance requires -force, which (in motion) must act in “the -direction of the least resistance,” and -hence it is entirely determined from without, -and governed by the disposition of -the forces it meets.</p> - -<p class='c006'>4. Hence, of <i>will</i>, it is an absurdity to -talk; <i>freedom</i> or <i>moral agency</i> is an impossible -phantom.</p> - -<p class='c006'>5. That there is self-determination in -self-consciousness—that it is “self-created”—is -to Mr. Spencer the absurd alternative -which at once turns the scale in -favor of the doctrine that mental phenomena -are the productions of external -forces.</p> - -<p class='c006'>After this, what are we to say of the -following? (P. 501): “Notwithstanding -all evidence to the contrary, there will -probably have arisen in not a few minds -the conviction that the solutions which -have been given, along with those to be -derived from them, are essentially materialistic. -Let none persist in these misconceptions.” -(P. 502): “Their implications -are no more materialistic than they -are spiritualistic, and no more spiritualistic -than they are materialistic.”</p> - -<p class='c006'>If we hold these positions by the side of -Kant’s Third Antinomy, we shall see that -they all belong to the proof of the “Antithesis,” -viz: “There is no freedom, but -everything in the world happens according -to the laws of nature.” The “Thesis,” -viz: “That a causality of freedom is necessary -to account fully for the phenomena -of the world,” he has not anywhere supported. -We find, in fact, only those -thinkers who have in some measure mastered -the third phase of culture in thought, -standing upon the basis presented by -Kant in the Thesis. The chief point in -the Thesis may be stated as follows: 1. -If everything that happens presupposes a -previous condition, (which the law of -causality states,) 2. This previous condition -cannot be a permanent (or have been -always in existence); for, if so, its consequence, -or the effect, would have always -existed. Thus the previous condition must -be a thing which has happened. 3. With -this the whole law of causality collapses; -for (<i>a</i>) since each cause is an effect, (<i>b</i>) its -determining power escapes into a higher -member of the series, and, (<i>c</i>) unless the -law changes, wholly vanishes; there result -an indefinite series of effects with no -cause; each member of the series is a dependent, -has its being in another, which -again has its being in another, and hence -cannot support the subsequent term.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Hence it is evident that this Antinomy -consists, first: in the setting up of the law -of causality as having absolute validity, -which is the antithesis. Secondly, the -experience is made that such absolute law -of causality is a self-nugatory one, and thus -it is to be inferred that causality, to be at -all, presupposes an origination in a “self-moved,” -as Plato calls it. Aristotle (Metaphysics, -xi. 6-7, and ix. 8) exhibits this ultimate -as the “self-active,” and the Scholastics -take the same, under the designation -“<i>actus purus</i>,” for the definition of God.</p> - -<p class='c006'>The Antinomy thus reduced gives:</p> - -<p class='c006'>I. Thesis: Self-determination must lie -at the basis of all causality, otherwise -causality cannot be at all.</p> - -<p class='c006'><span class='pageno' id='Page_19'>19</span>II. Antithesis: If there is self-determination, -“the unity of experience (which -leads us to look for a cause) is destroyed, -and hence no such case could arise in experience.”</p> - -<p class='c006'>In comparing the two proofs it is at once -seen that they are of different degrees of -universality. The argument of the Thesis is -based upon the nature of the thing itself, -i. e. a pure thought; while that of the -Antithesis loses sight of the idea of -“<i>efficient</i>” cause, and seeks mere continuity -in the sequence of time, and thus exhibits -itself as the second stage of thought, -which leans on the staff of fancy, i. e. mere -<i>representative</i> thinking. This “unity of -experience,” as Kant calls it, is the same -thing, stated in other words, that Spencer -refers to as the “positive result of our -mental structure.” In one sense those are -true antinomies—those of Kant, Hamilton, -<i>et al.</i>—viz. in this: that the “<i>representative</i>” -stage of thinking finds itself unable -to shake off the sensuous picture, and think -“<i>sub quadam specie æternitatis</i>.” To the -mind disciplined to the third stage of -thought, these are no antinomies; Spinoza, -Leibnitz, Plato and Aristotle are not confused -by them. The Thesis, properly -stated, is a true universal, and exhibits its -own truth, as that upon which the law of -causality rests; and hence the antithesis -itself—less universal—resting upon the -law of causality, is based upon the Thesis. -Moreover, the Thesis does not deny an infinite -succession in time and space, it only -states that there must be an efficient cause—just -what the law of causality states, but -shows, in addition, that this efficient cause -must be a “self-determined.”</p> - -<p class='c006'>On page 282 we learn that, “The solar -heat is the final source of the force manifested -by society.” “It (the force of society) -is based on animal and vegetable -products, and these in turn are dependent -on the light and heat of the sun.”</p> - -<p class='c006'>As an episode in this somewhat abstract -discussion, it may be diverting to notice -the question of priority of discovery, -touched upon in the following note (p. -454): “Until I recently consulted his -‘Outlines of Astronomy’ on another question, -I was not aware that, so far back as -1833, Sir John Herschel had enunciated -the doctrine that ‘the sun’s rays are the -ultimate source of almost every motion -which takes place on the surface of the -earth.’ He expressly includes all geologic, -meteorologic, and vital actions; as also -those which we produce by the combustion -of coal. The late George Stephenson -appears to have been wrongly credited -with this last idea.”</p> - -<p class='c006'>In order to add to the thorough discussion -of this important question, we wish -to suggest the claims of Thomas Carlyle, -who, as far back as 1830, wrote the following -passage in his <i>Sartor Resartus</i> (Am. -ed. pp. 55-6): “Well sang the Hebrew -Psalmist: ‘If I take the wings of the -morning, and dwell in the uttermost parts -of the Universe, God is there.’ Thou, too, -O cultivated reader, who too probably art -no psalmist, but a prosaist, knowing God -only by tradition, knowest thou any corner -of the world where at least force is not? -The drop which thou shakest from thy wet -hand, rests not where it falls, but to-morrow -thou findest it swept away; already, -on the wings of the north wind, it is nearing -the tropic of Cancer. How it came to -evaporate and not lie motionless? Thinkest -thou there is aught motionless, without -force, and dead?</p> - -<p class='c006'>“As I rode through the Schwartzwald, -I said to myself: That little fire which -glows starlike across the dark-growing -(nachtende) moor, where the sooty smith -bends over his anvil, and thou hopest to -replace thy lost horseshoe—is it a detached, -separated speck, cut off from the whole -universe, or indissolubly joined to the -whole? Thou fool, that smithy-fire was -primarily kindled at the sun; is fed by air -that circulates from beyond Noah’s deluge, -from beyond the Dog star; it is a little -ganglion, or nervous centre in the great -vital system of immensity.”</p> - -<p class='c006'>We have, finally, to consider the correlation -theory in connection with equilibrium.</p> - -<p class='c006'>I. Motion results from destroyed equilibrium. -The whole totality does not correspond -to itself, its ideal and real contradict -each other. The movement is the restoring -of the equilibrium, or the bringing -<span class='pageno' id='Page_20'>20</span>into unity of the ideal and real. To illustrate: -a spring (made of steel, rubber, or -any elastic material) has a certain form in -which, it may exist without tension; this -may be called the ideal shape, or simply -the ideal. If the spring is forced to assume -another shape, its real shape becomes -different from the ideal; its equilibrium -is destroyed, and force is manifested as a -tendency to restore the equilibrium (or -unity of the ideal and real). Generalize -this: all forces have the same nature; -(<i>a</i>) <i>expansive</i> forces arise from the ideal -existing without—a gas, steam, for example, -ideally takes up a more extended -space than it has really; it expands to fill -it. Or (<i>b</i>) contractive forces: the multiplicity -ideally exists within; e. g. attraction -of gravitation; matter trying to find -the centre of the earth, its ideal. The will -acts in this way: The ideal is changed -first, and draws the real after it. I first -destroy, in thought and will, the identity -of ideal and real; the tension resulting is -force. Thinking, since it deals with the -universal (or the potential <i>and</i> the actual) -is an original source of force, and, as will -result in the sequel from a reverse analysis -(see below, V. 3, <i>c</i>) the <i>only</i> source of force.</p> - -<p class='c006'>II. Persistence of force requires an unrestorable -equilibrium; in moving to restore -one equilibrium, it must destroy -another—its equivalent.</p> - -<p class='c006'>III. But this contradicts the above developed -conception of force as follows: -(<i>a</i>) Since force results from destroyed -equilibrium, it follows (<i>b</i>) that it requires -as much force to destroy the equilibrium -as is developed in the restoring of it (and -this notion is the basis of the correlation -theory). But (<i>c</i>) if the first equilibrium -(already destroyed) can only be restored -by the destroying of another equal to the -same, it has already formed an equilibrium -with the second, and the occasion of the -motion is removed.</p> - -<p class='c006'>If two forces are equal and opposed, -which will give way?</p> - -<p class='c006'>By this dialectic consideration of force, -we learn the insufficiency of the theory of -correlation as the ultimate truth. Instead -of being “the sole truth, which transcends -experience by underlying it” (p. 258), we -are obliged to confess that this “persistence -of force” rests on the category of -causality; its thin disguise consists in the -substitution of other words for the metaphysical -expression, “Every effect must -be equal to its cause.” And this, when -tortured in the crucible, confesses that -the only efficient cause is “<i>causi sui</i>;” -hence the effect is equal to its cause, because -it is the cause.</p> - -<p class='c006'>And the correlation theory results in -showing that force cannot be, unless self-originated.</p> - -<p class='c006'>That self-determination is the inevitable -result, no matter what hypothesis be assumed, -is also evident. Taking all counter-hypotheses -and generalizing them, we have -this analysis:</p> - -<p class='c006'>I. Any and every being is determined -from without through another. (This theorem -includes all anti-self-determination -doctrines.)</p> - -<p class='c006'>II. It results from this that any and -every being is dependent upon another and -is a finite one; it cannot be isolated without -destroying it. Hence it results that -every being is an element of a whole that -includes <i>it</i> as a subordinate moment.</p> - -<p class='c006'>III. Dependent being, as a subordinate -element, cannot be said to support any -thing attached to it, for its own support is -not in itself but in another, namely, the -whole that includes it. From this it results -that no dependent being can depend -upon another dependent being, but rather -upon the including whole.</p> - -<p class='c006'>The including whole is therefore not a -dependent; since it is for itself, and each -element is determined through it, and for -it, it may be called the <i>negative</i> unity (or -the unity which negates the independence -of the elements).</p> - -<p class='c006'><i>Remark.</i>—A chain of dependent beings -collapses into one dependent being. Dependence -is not converted into independence -by simple multiplication. All dependence -is thus an element of an independent -whole.</p> - -<p class='c006'>IV. What is the <i>character</i> of this independent -whole, this <i>negative unity</i>? “Character” -means determination, and we are -prepared to say that its determination cannot -be through another, for then it would -<span class='pageno' id='Page_21'>21</span>be a dependent, and we should be referred -again to the whole, including it. Its determination -by which the multiplicity of -elements arises is hence its own self-determination. -Thus all finitude and dependence -presupposes as its condition, self-determination.</p> - -<p class='c006'>V. Self-determination more closely examined -exhibits some remarkable results, -(which will throw light on the discussion -of “Essence and Phenomena” above):</p> - -<p class='c006'>(1.) It is “<i>causa sui</i>;” active and passive; -existing dually as determining and -determined; this self-diremption produces -a distinction in itself which is again cancelled.</p> - -<p class='c006'>(2.) As determiner (or active, or cause), -it is the pure universal—the <i>possibility of -any</i> determinations. But as <i>determined</i> -(passive or effect) it is the special, the particular, -the one-sided reality that enters -into change.</p> - -<p class='c006'>(3.) But it is “negative unity” of these -two sides, and hence an individual. The -pure universal whose negative relation to -itself as determiner makes the particular, -completes itself to individuality through -this act.</p> - -<p class='c006'>(<i>a.</i>) Since its pure universality is the -substrate of its determination, and at the -same time a self-related activity (or negativity), -it at once becomes its own object.</p> - -<p class='c006'>(<i>b.</i>) Its activity (limiting or determining)—a -pure negativity—turned to itself -as object, dissolves the particular in the -universal, and thus continually realizes -its subjectivity.</p> - -<p class='c006'>(<i>c.</i>) Hence these two sides of the negative -unity are more properly subject and -object, and since they are identical (<i>causa -sui</i>) we may name the result “self-consciousness.”</p> - -<p class='c006'>The absolute truth of all truths, then, is -that self-consciousness is the form of the -Total. God is a Person, or rather <i>the</i> -Person. Through His self-consciousness -(thought of Himself) he makes Himself -an object to Himself (Nature), and in the -same act cancels it again into His own -image (finite spirit), and thus comprehends -Himself in this self-revelation.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Two remarks must be made here: (1.) -This is not “Pantheism;” for it results -that God is a Person; and secondly Nature -is a self-cancelling side in the process; -thirdly, the so-called “finite spirit,” or -man, is immortal, since otherwise he would -not be the last link of the chain; but such -he is, because he can develop out of his -sensuous life to pure thought, unconditioned -by time and space, and hence he can -surpass any <i>fixed</i> “higher intelligence,” -no matter how high created.</p> - -<p class='c006'>(2.) It is the result that all profound -thinkers have arrived at.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Aristotle (Metaphysics XI. 6 & 7) carries -this whole question of motion back to -its presupposition in a mode of treatment, -“<i>sub quadam specie æternitatis</i>.” He -concludes thus: “The thinking, however, -of that which is purely for itself, is a thinking -of that which is most excellent in and -for itself.</p> - -<p class='c006'>“The thinking thinks itself, however, -through participation in that which is -thought by it; it becomes this object in -its own activity, in such a manner that the -subject and object are identical. For the -apprehending of thought and essence is -what constitutes reason. The activity of -thinking produces that which is perceived; -so that the activity is rather that which -Reason seems to have of a divine nature; -speculation [pure thinking] is the most excellent -employment; if, then, God is always -engaged in this, as we are at times, -He is admirable, and if in a higher degree, -more admirable. But He <i>is</i> in this pure -thinking, and life too belongs to Him; for -the activity of thought is life. He is this -activity. The activity, returning into itself, -is the most excellent and eternal life. -We say, therefore, that God is an eternal -and the best living being. So that life and -duration are uninterrupted and eternal; -for this is God.”</p> - -<p class='c006'>When one gets rid of those “images of -sense” called by Spencer “conceivables,” -and arrives at the “unpicturable notions -of intelligence,” he will find it easy to reduce -the vexed antinomies of force, matter, -motion, time, space and causality; arriving -at the fundamental principle—self-determination—he -will be able to make a -science of Biology. The organic realm -will not yield to dualistic Reflection. -<span class='pageno' id='Page_22'>22</span>Goethe is the great pioneer of the school of -physicists that will spring out of the present -activity of Reflection when it shall -have arrived at a perception of its method.</p> - -<p class='c006'><i>Resumé.</i>—Mr. Spencer’s results, so far -as philosophy is concerned, may be briefly -summed up under four general heads: 1. -Psychology. 2. Ontology. 3. Theology. -4. Cosmology.</p> -<h4 class='c012'>PSYCHOLOGY.</h4> -<p class='c005'>(1.) Conception is a mere picture in the -mind; therefore what cannot be pictured -cannot be conceived; therefore the Infinite, -the Absolute, God, Essence, Matter, Motion, -Force—anything, in short, that involves -mediation—cannot be conceived; hence -they are unknowable.</p> - -<p class='c006'>(2.) Consciousness is self-knowing; but -that subject and object are one, is impossible. -We can neither know ourselves nor -any real being.</p> - -<p class='c006'>(3.) All reasoning or explaining is the -subsuming of a somewhat under a more -general category; hence the highest category -is unsubsumed, and hence inexplicable.</p> - -<p class='c006'>(4.) Our intellectual faculties may be -improved to a certain extent, and beyond -this, no amount of training can avail anything. -(Biology, vol. I, p. 188.)</p> - -<p class='c006'>(5.) The “substance of consciousness” -is the basis of our ideas of persistence of -Force, Matter, etc.</p> - -<p class='c006'>(6.) All knowing is relative; our knowledge -of this fact, however, is not relative -but absolute.</p> -<h4 class='c012'>ONTOLOGY.</h4> -<p class='c005'>(1.) All that we know is phenomenal. -The reality passes all understanding. In -the phenomenon the essence is “manifested,” -but still it is not revealed thereby; -it remains hidden behind it, inscrutable to -our perception.</p> - -<p class='c006'>(2.) And yet, since all our knowledge is -relative, we have an obscure knowledge of -the hidden and inscrutable essence of the -correlate of our knowledge of phenomena. -We know that it exists.</p> - -<p class='c006'>(3.) Though what is inconceivable is for -that reason unknowable, yet we know that -persistence belongs to force, motion and -matter; it is a positive result of our “mental -structure,” although we cannot conceive -either destructibility or indestructibility.</p> - -<p class='c006'>(4.) Though self-consciousness is an -impossibility, yet it sometimes occurs, since -the “substance of consciousness” is the -object of consciousness when it decides -upon the persistence of the Universe, and -of Force, Matter, etc.</p> -<h4 class='c012'>THEOLOGY.</h4> -<p class='c005'>The Supreme Being is unknown and unknowable; -unrevealed and unrevealable, -either naturally or supernaturally; for to -reveal, requires that some one shall comprehend -what is revealed. The sole doctrine -of Religion of great value is the doctrine -that God transcends the human intellect. -When Religion professes to reveal -Him to man and declare His attributes, -then it is irreligious. Though God is the -unknown, yet personality, reason, consciousness, -etc., are degrading when applied -to Him. The “Thirty-nine Articles” -should be condensed into one, thus: -“There is an Unknown which I know that I -cannot know.“</p> - -<p class='c006'>“Religions are envelopes of truth which -reveal to the lower, and conceal to the -higher.” “They are modes of manifestation -of the unknowable.”</p> -<h4 class='c012'>COSMOLOGY.</h4> -<p class='c005'>“Evolution is a change from an indefinite, -incoherent homogeneity, to a definite, -coherent heterogeneity; through continuous -differentiations and integrations.” -This is the law of the Universe. All progresses -to an equilibration—to a moving -equilibrium.</p> -<div> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_23'>23</span> - <h3 class='c001'>INTRODUCTION TO FICHTE’S SCIENCE OF KNOWLEDGE. <br /> TRANSLATED BY A. E. KROEGER.</h3> -</div> -<p class='c009'>[<span class='sc'>Note.</span>—In presenting this “Introduction” to the readers of the Journal of Speculative -Philosophy, we believe we afford them the easiest means of gaining an insight into Fichte’s great -work on the Science of Knowledge. The present introduction was written by Fichte in 1797, -three years after the first publication of his full system. It is certainly written in a remarkably -clear and vigorous style, so as to be likely to arrest the attention even of those who have but -little acquaintance with the rudiments of the Science of Philosophy. This led us to give it -the preference over other essays, also written by Fichte, as Introductions to his Science of -Knowledge. A translation of the Science of Knowledge, by Mr. Kroeger, is at present in course -of publication in New York. This article is, moreover, interesting as being a more complete unfolding -of the doctrine of Plato upon Method, heretofore announced.—<span class='sc'>Ed.</span>]</p> -<h4 class='c012'>PRELIMINARY REMARKS.</h4> -<p class='c009'>De re, quæ agitur, petimus, ut homines, eam non -opinionem, sed opus esse, cogitent ac pro certo habeant, -non sectæ nos alicujus, aut placiti, sed utilitatis -et amplitudinis humanæ fundamenta moliri. Deinde, -ut, suis commodis æqui, in commune consulant, et ipsi -in partem veniant.—<i>Baco de Verulamio.</i></p> - -<p class='c010'>The author of the Science of Knowledge -was soon convinced, through a slight acquaintance -with the philosophical literature -since the appearance of Kant’s Critiques, -that the object of this great man—to effect -a total reform in the study of philosophy, -and hence of all science—had resulted -in a failure, since not one of his -numerous successors appeared to understand -what he had really spoken of. The -author believed that he had understood -the latter; he resolved to devote his -life to a representation—totally independent -from Kant’s—of that great discovery, -and he will not give up this resolve. -Whether he will succeed better in making -himself understood to his age, time alone -can show. At all events, he knows that -nothing true and useful, which has once -been given to mankind, is lost, though only -remote posterity should learn how to use it.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Determined by my academical vocation, -I wrote, in the first instance, for my hearers, -with whom it was in my power to explain -myself in words until I was understood.</p> - -<p class='c006'>This is not the place to testify how -much cause I have to be satisfied with my -efforts, and to entertain, of some of my -students, the best hopes for science. That -book of mine has also become known elsewhere, -and there are various opinions -afloat concerning it amongst the learned. -A judgment, which even pretended to bring -forth arguments, I have neither read nor -heard, except from my students; but I -have both heard and read a vast amount of -derision, denunciation, and the general -assurance that everybody is heartily opposed -to this doctrine, and the confession -that no one can understand it. As far as -the latter is concerned, I will cheerfully -assume all the blame, until others shall represent -it so as to make it comprehensible, -when students will doubtless discover that -my representation was not so very bad -after all; or I will assume it altogether -and unconditionally, if the reader thereby -should be encouraged to study the present -representation, in which I shall endeavor -to be as clear as possible. I shall continue -these representations so long as I am -convinced that I do not write altogether in -vain. But I write in vain when nobody -examines my argument.</p> - -<p class='c006'>I still owe my readers the following explanations: -I have always said, and say -again, that my system is the same as -Kant’s. That is to say, it contains the -same view of the subject, but is totally independent -of Kant’s mode of representation. -I have said this, not to cover myself -by a great authority, or to support my -doctrine except by itself, but in order to -say the truth and to be just.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Perhaps it may be proven after twenty -years. Kant is as yet a sealed book, and -what he has been understood to teach, is -exactly what he intended to eradicate.</p> - -<p class='c006'>My writings are neither to explain Kant, -nor to be explained by his; they must -stand by themselves, and Kant must not be -counted in the game at all. My object is—let -<span class='pageno' id='Page_24'>24</span>me say it frankly—not to correct or -amplify such philosophical reflections as -may be current, be they called anti-Kant -or Kant, but to totally eradicate -them, and to effect a complete revolution -in the mode of thinking regarding these -subjects, so that hereafter the Object will -be posited and determined by Knowledge -(Reason), and not <i>vice versa</i>; and this -seriously, not merely in words.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Let no one object: “If this system is -true, certain axioms cannot be upheld,” -for I do not intend that anything should -be upheld which this system refutes.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Again: “I do not understand this book,” -is to me a very uninteresting and insignificant -confession. No one can and shall -understand my writings, without having -studied them; for they do not contain a -lesson heretofore taught, but something—since -Kant has not been understood—altogether -new to the age.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Censure without argument tells me -simply that my doctrine does not please; -and this confession is again very unimportant; -for the question is not at all, -whether it pleases you or not, but whether -it has been proven. In the present sketch -I write only for those, in whom there -still dwells an inner sense of love for -truth; who still value science and conviction, -and who are impelled by a lively -zeal to seek truth. With those, who, by -long spiritual slavery, have lost with the -faith in their own conviction their faith -in the conviction of others; who consider -it folly if anybody attempts to seek truth -for himself; who see nothing in science -but a comfortable mode of subsistence; -who are horrified at every proposition -to enlarge its boundaries involving as -a new labor, and who consider no means -disgraceful by which they can hope to suppress -him who makes such a proposition,—with -those I have nothing to do.</p> - -<p class='c006'>I should be sorry if <i>they</i> understood me. -Hitherto this wish of mine has been realized; -and I hope, even now, that these -present lines will so confuse them that they -can perceive nothing more in them than -mere words, while that which represents -their mind is torn hither and thither by -their ill-concealed rage.</p> -<h4 class='c012'>INTRODUCTION.</h4> -<p class='c005'>I. Attend to thyself; turn <i>thine</i> eye away -from all that surrounds thee and into <i>thine</i> -own inner self! Such is the first task imposed -upon the student by Philosophy. -We speak of nothing that is without thee, -but merely of thyself.</p> - -<p class='c006'>The slightest self-observation must show -every one a remarkable difference between -the various immediate conditions of his -consciousness, which we may also call -representations. For some of them appear -altogether dependent upon our freedom, -and we cannot possibly believe that there -is without us anything corresponding to -them. Our imagination, our will, appears -to us as free. Others, however, we refer to -a Truth as their model, which is held to be -firmly fixed, independent of us; and in -determining such representations, we find -ourselves conditioned by the necessity of -their harmony with this Truth. In the -knowledge of them we do not consider -ourselves free, as far as their contents are -concerned. In short: while some of our -representations are accompanied by the -feeling of freedom, others are accompanied -by the feeling of necessity.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Reasonably the question cannot arise—why -are the representations dependent -upon our freedom determined in precisely -this manner, and not otherwise? For in -supposing them to be dependent upon our -freedom, all application of the conception -of a ground is rejected; they are thus, because -I so fashioned them, and if I had -fashioned them differently, they would be -otherwise.</p> - -<p class='c006'>But it is certainly a question worthy of -reflection—what is the ground of the system -of those representations which are accompanied -by the feeling of necessity and -of that feeling of necessity itself? To -answer this question is the object of philosophy; -and, in my opinion, nothing is -philosophy but the Science which solves -this problem. The system of those representations, -which are accompanied by the -feeling of necessity, is also called <i>Experience</i>—internal -as well as external experience. -Philosophy, therefore, to say the -same thing in other words, has to find the -ground of all Experience.</p> - -<p class='c006'><span class='pageno' id='Page_25'>25</span>Only three objections can be raised -against this. Somebody might deny that -representations, accompanied by the feeling -of necessity, and referred to a Truth -determined without any action of ours, do -ever occur in our consciousness. Such a -person would either deny his own knowledge, -or be altogether differently constructed -from other men; in which latter -case his denial would be of no concern to -us. Or somebody might say: the question -is completely unanswerable, we are in irremovable -ignorance concerning it, and -must remain so. To enter into argument -with such a person is altogether superfluous. -The best reply he can receive is an -actual answer to the question, and then -all he can do is to examine our answer, -and tell us why and in what matters it does -not appear satisfactory to him. Finally, -somebody might quarrel about the designation, -and assert: “Philosophy is something -else than what you have stated -above, or at least something else besides.” -It might be easily shown to such a one, -that scholars have at all times designated -exactly what we have just stated to be -Philosophy, and that whatever else he -might assert to be Philosophy, has already -another name, and that if this word signifies -anything at all, it must mean exactly -this Science. But as we are not inclined -to enter upon any dispute about words, -we, for our part, have already given up -the name of Philosophy, and have called -the Science which has the solution of this -problem for its object, the <i>Science of -Knowledge</i>.</p> - -<p class='c006'>II. Only when speaking of something, -which we consider accidental, i. e. which -we suppose might also have been otherwise, -though it was not determined by freedom, -can we ask for its ground; and by -this very asking for its ground does it become -accidental to the questioner. To -find the ground of anything accidental -means, to find something else, from the -determinedness of which it can be seen -why the accidental, amongst the various -conditions it might have assumed, assumed -precisely the one it did. The ground lies—by -the very thinking of a ground—beyond -its Grounded, and both are, in so far -as they are Ground and Grounded, opposed -to each other, related to each other, and -thus the latter is explained from the former.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Now Philosophy is to discover the -ground of all experience; hence its object -lies necessarily <i>beyond all Experience</i>. -This sentence applies to all Philosophy, -and has been so applied always heretofore, -if we except these latter days of Kant’s -misconstruers and their facts of consciousness, -i. e. of inner experience.</p> - -<p class='c006'>No objection can be raised to this paragraph; -for the premise of our conclusion -is a mere analysis of the above-stated conception -of Philosophy, and from the premise -the conclusion is drawn. If somebody -should wish to remind us that the -conception of a ground must be differently -explained, we can, to be sure, not prevent -him from forming another conception of -it, if he so chooses; but we declare, on -the strength of our good right, that <i>we</i>, in -the above description of Philosophy, wish -to have nothing else understood by that -word. Hence, if it is not to be so understood, -the possibility of Philosophy, as we -have described it, must be altogether denied, -and such a denial we have replied to -in our first section.</p> - -<p class='c006'>III. The finite intelligence has nothing -beyond experience; experience contains -the whole substance of its thinking. The -philosopher stands necessarily under the -same conditions, and hence it seems impossible -that he can elevate himself beyond -experience.</p> - -<p class='c006'>But he can abstract; i. e. he can separate -by the freedom of thinking what in experience -is united. In Experience, <i>the Thing</i>—that -which is to be determined in itself -independent of our freedom, and in accordance -with which our knowledge is to -shape itself—and the Intelligence—which -is to obtain a knowledge of it—are inseparably -united. The philosopher may -abstract from both, and if he does, he has -abstracted from Experience and elevated -himself above it. If he abstracts from the -first, he retains an intelligence <i>in itself</i>, -i. e. abstracted from its relation to experience; -if he abstract from the latter, he retains -the Thing <i>in itself</i>, i. e. abstracted -from the fact that it occurs in experience; -<span class='pageno' id='Page_26'>26</span>and thus retains the Intelligence in itself, -or the “Thing in itself,” as the -explanatory ground of Experience. The -former mode of proceeding is called <i>Idealism</i>, -the latter <i>Dogmatism</i>.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Only these two philosophical systems—and -of that these remarks should convince -everybody—are possible. According to -the first system the representations, which -are accompanied by the feeling of necessity, -are productions of the Intelligence, -which must be presupposed in their explanation; -according to the latter system -they are the productions of a thing in itself -which must be presupposed to explain -them. If anybody desired to deny this, -he would have to prove that there is still -another way to go beyond experience than -the one by means of abstraction, or that -the consciousness of experience contains -more than the two components just mentioned.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Now in regard to the first, it will appear -below, it is true, that what we have here -called Intelligence does, indeed, occur in -consciousness under another name, and -hence is not altogether produced by abstraction; -but it will at the same time be -shown that the consciousness of it is conditioned -by an abstraction, which, however, -occurs naturally to mankind.</p> - -<p class='c006'>We do not at all deny that it is possible -to compose a whole system from fragments -of these incongruous systems, and that -this illogical labor has often been undertaken; -but we do deny that more than -these two systems are possible in a logical -course of proceeding.</p> - -<p class='c006'>IV. Between the object—(we shall call -the explanatory ground of experience, -which a philosophy asserts, the <i>object of -that philosophy</i>, since it appears to be only -through and for such philosophy)—between -the object of <i>Idealism</i> and that of -<i>Dogmatism</i> there is a remarkable distinction -in regard to their relation to consciousness -generally. All whereof I am conscious -is called object of consciousness. -There are three ways in which the object -can be related to consciousness. Either -it appears to have been produced by the -representation, or as existing without any -action of ours; and in the latter case, as -either also determined in regard to its -qualitativeness, or as existing merely in -regard to its existence, while determinable -in regard to its qualitativeness by the free -intelligence.</p> - -<p class='c006'>The first relation applies merely to an -imaginary object; the second merely to an -object of Experience; the third applies -only to an object, which we shall at once -proceed to describe.</p> - -<p class='c006'>I can determine myself by freedom to -think, for instance, the Thing in itself of -the Dogmatists. Now if I am to abstract -from the thought and look simply upon -myself, I myself become the object of a -particular representation. That I appear to -myself as determined in precisely this -manner, and none other, e. g. as thinking, -and as thinking of all possible thoughts—precisely -this Thing in itself, is to depend -exclusively upon my own freedom of self-determination; -I have made myself such a -particular object out of my own free will. -I have not made <i>myself</i>; on the contrary, I -am forced to think myself in advance as -determinable through this self-determination. -Hence I am myself my own object, -the determinateness of which, under certain -conditions, depends altogether upon -the intelligence, but the existence of which -must always be presupposed. Now this -very “I” is the object of Idealism. The -object of this system does not occur actually -as something real in consciousness, not -as a <i>Thing in itself</i>—for then Idealism -would cease to be what it is, and become -Dogmatism—but as <i>“I” in itself</i>; not as -an object of Experience—for it is not determined, -but is exclusively determinable -through my freedom, and without this determination -it would be nothing, and is -really not at all—but as something beyond -all Experience.</p> - -<p class='c006'>The object of Dogmatism, on the contrary, -belongs to the objects of the first -class, which are produced solely by free -Thinking. The Thing in itself is a mere -invention, and has no reality at all. It -does not occur in Experience, for the system -of Experience is nothing else than -Thinking accompanied by the feeling of -necessity, and can not even be said to be -anything else by the dogmatist, who, like -<span class='pageno' id='Page_27'>27</span>every philosopher, has to explain its cause. -True, the dogmatist wants to obtain reality -for it through the necessity of thinking -it as ground of all experience, and -would succeed, if he could prove that experience -can be, and can be explained only -by means of it. But this is the very thing -in dispute, and he cannot presuppose what -must first be proven.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Hence the object of Idealism has this -advantage over the object of Dogmatism, -that it is not to be deduced as the explanatory -ground of Experience—which would -be a contradiction, and change this system -itself into a part of Experience—but that -it is, nevertheless, to be pointed out as a -part of consciousness; whereas, the object -of Dogmatism can pass for nothing but a -mere invention, which obtains validity -only through the success of the system.</p> - -<p class='c006'>This we have said merely to promote a -clearer insight into the distinction between -the two systems, but not to draw from it -conclusions against the latter system. -That the object of every philosophy, as -explanatory ground of Experience, must -lie beyond all experience, is required by -the very nature of Philosophy, and is far -from being derogatory to a system. But -we have as yet discovered no reasons why -that object should also occur in a particular -manner within consciousness.</p> - -<p class='c006'>If anybody should not be able to convince -himself of the truth of what we have just -said, this would not make his conviction -of the truth of the whole system an impossibility, -since what we have just said was -only intended as a passing remark. Still -in conformity to our plan we will also here -take possible objections into consideration. -Somebody might deny the asserted immediate -self-consciousness in a free act of -the mind. Such a one we should refer to -the conditions stated above. This self-consciousness -does not obtrude itself upon -us, and comes not of its own accord; it is -necessary first to act free, and next to abstract -from the object, and attend to one’s -self. Nobody can be forced to do this, -and though he may say he has done it, it -is impossible to say whether he has done -it correctly. In one word, this consciousness -cannot be proven to any one, but -everybody must freely produce it within -himself. Against the second assertion, -that the “Thing in itself” is a mere invention, -an objection could only be raised, -because it were misunderstood.</p> - -<p class='c006'>V. Neither of these two systems can directly -refute the other; for their dispute is -a dispute about the first principle; each -system—if you only admit its first axiom—proves -the other one wrong; each denies -all to the opposite, and these two systems -have no point in common from which they -might bring about a mutual understanding -and reconciliation. Though they may agree -on the words of a sentence, they will surely -attach a different meaning to the words.</p> - -<p class='c006'>(Hence the reason why Kant has not -been understood and why the Science of -Knowledge can find no friends. The systems -of Kant and of the Science of Knowledge -are <i>idealistic</i>—not in the general indefinite, -but in the just described definite -sense of the word; but the modern philosophers -are all of them dogmatists, and -are firmly resolved to remain so. Kant -was merely tolerated, because it was possible -to make a dogmatist out of him; but -the Science of Knowledge, which cannot -be thus construed, is insupportable to these -wise men. The rapid extension of Kant’s -philosophy—when it was thus misunderstood—is -not a proof of the profundity, -but rather of the shallowness of the age. -For in this shape it is the most wonderful -abortion ever created by human imagination, -and it does little honor to its defenders -that they do not perceive this. It -can also be shown that this philosophy was -accepted so greedily only because people -thought it would put a stop to all serious -speculation, and continue the era of shallow -Empiricism.)</p> - -<p class='c006'>First. Idealism cannot refute Dogmatism. -True, the former system has the advantage, -as we have already said, of being -enabled to point out its explanatory ground -of all experience—the free acting intelligence—as -a fact of consciousness. This -fact the dogmatist must also admit, for -otherwise he would render himself incapable -of maintaining the argument with his -opponent; but he at the same time, by a correct -conclusion from his principle, changes -<span class='pageno' id='Page_28'>28</span>this explanatory ground into a deception -and appearance, and thus renders it incapable -of being the explanatory ground of -anything else, since it cannot maintain its -own existence in its own philosophy. According -to the Dogmatist, all phenomena -of our consciousness are productions of a -<i>Thing in itself</i>, even our pretended determinations -by freedom, and the belief that -we are free. This belief is produced by -the effect of the Thing upon ourselves, and -the determinations, which we deduced from -freedom, are also produced by it. The only -difference is, that we are not aware of it in -these cases, and hence ascribe it to no -cause, i. e. to our freedom. Every logical -dogmatist is necessarily a Fatalist; he does -not deny the fact of consciousness, that we -consider ourselves free—for this would be -against reason;—but he proves from his -principle that this is a false view. He denies -the independence of the <i>Ego</i>, which is -the basis of the Idealist, <i>in toto</i>, makes it -merely a production of the Thing, an accidence -of the World; and hence the logical -dogmatist is necessarily also materialist. -He can only be refuted from the postulate -of the freedom and independence of the -<i>Ego</i>; but this is precisely what he denies. -Neither can the dogmatist refute the Idealist.</p> - -<p class='c006'>The principle of the former, the Thing -in itself, is nothing, and has no reality, as -its defenders themselves must admit, except -that which it is to receive from the -fact that experience can only be explained -by it. But this proof the Idealist annihilates -by explaining experience in another -manner, hence by denying precisely what -dogmatism assumes. Thus the Thing in -itself becomes a complete Chimera; there -is no further reason why it should be assumed; -and with it the whole edifice of -dogmatism tumbles down.</p> - -<p class='c006'>From what we have just stated, is moreover -evident the complete irreconcilability -of both systems; since the <i>results</i> of the -one destroy those of the other. Wherever -their union has been attempted the members -would not fit together, and somewhere -an immense gulf appeared which could not -be spanned.</p> - -<p class='c006'>If any one were to deny this he would -have to prove the possibility of such a -union—of a union which consists in an -everlasting composition of Matter and -Spirit, or, which is the same, of Necessity -and Liberty.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Now since, as far as we can see at present, -both systems appear to have the same -speculative value, but since both cannot -stand together, nor yet either convince the -other, it occurs as a very interesting question: -What can possibly tempt persons who -comprehend this—and to comprehend it is -so very easy a matter—to prefer the one -over the other; and why skepticism, as the -total renunciation of an answer to this -problem, does not become universal?</p> - -<p class='c006'>The dispute between the Idealist and the -Dogmatist is, in reality, the question, -whether the independence of the <i>Ego</i> is -to be sacrificed to that of the Thing, or <i>vice -versa</i>? What, then, is it, which induces -sensible men to decide in favor of the one -or the other?</p> - -<p class='c006'>The philosopher discovers from this point -of view—in which he must necessarily place -himself, if he wants to pass for a philosopher, -and which, in the progress of Thinking, -every man necessarily occupies sooner -or later,—nothing farther <i>than that he -is forced to represent to himself</i> both: -that he is free, and that there are determined -things outside of him. But it -is impossible for man to stop at this -thought; the thought of a representation -is but a half-thought, a broken off fragment -of a thought; something must be -thought and added to it, as corresponding -with the representation independent of it. -In other words: the representation cannot -exist alone by itself, it is only something -in connection with something else, and in -itself it is nothing. This necessity of thinking -it is, which forces one from that point -of view to the question: What is the ground -of the representations? or, which is exactly -the same, What is that which corresponds -with them?</p> - -<p class='c006'>Now the <i>representation</i> of the independence -of the <i>Ego</i> and that of the Thing can -very well exist together; but not the independence -<i>itself</i> of both. Only one can be -the first, the beginning, the independent; -the second, by the very fact of being the -<span class='pageno' id='Page_29'>29</span>second, becomes necessarily dependent -upon the first, with which it is to be connected—now, -which of the two is to be -made the first? Reason furnishes no ground -for a decision; since the question concerns -not the connecting of one link with another, -but the commencement of the first -link, which as an absolute first act is altogether -conditional upon the freedom of -Thinking. Hence the decision is arbitrary; -and since this arbitrariness is nevertheless -to have a cause, the decision is dependent -upon <i>inclination</i> and <i>interest</i>. -The last ground, therefore, of the difference -between the Dogmatist and the Idealist -is the difference of their interest.</p> - -<p class='c006'>The highest interest, and hence the -ground of all other interest, is that which -we feel <i>for ourselves</i>. Thus with the Philosopher. -Not to lose his Self in his argumentation, -but to retain and assert it, this -is the interest which unconsciously guides -all his Thinking. Now, there are two -grades of mankind; and in the progress -of our race, before the last grade has been -universally attained, two chief kinds of -men. The one kind is composed of those -who have not yet elevated themselves to -the full feeling of their freedom and absolute -independence, who are merely conscious -of themselves in the representation -of outward things. These men have only -a desultory consciousness, linked together -with the outward objects, and put together -out of their manifoldness. They receive a -picture of their Self only from the Things, -as from a mirror; for their own sake they -cannot renounce their faith in the independence -of those things, since they exist -only together with these things. Whatever -they are they have become through -the outer World. Whosoever is only a -production of the Things will never view -himself in any other manner; and he is -perfectly correct, so long as he speaks -merely for himself and for those like him. -The principle of the dogmatist is: Faith -in the things, for their own sake; hence, -mediated Faith in their own desultory self, -as simply the result of the Things.</p> - -<p class='c006'>But whosoever becomes conscious of his -self-existence and independence from all -outward things—and this men can only become -by making something of themselves, -through their own Self, independently of -all outward things—needs no longer the -Things as supports of his Self, and cannot -use them, because they annihilate his independence -and turn it into an empty appearance. -The <i>Ego</i> which he possesses, and -which interests him, destroys that Faith in -the Things; he believes in his independence, -from inclination, and seizes it with -affection. His Faith in himself is <i>immediate</i>.</p> - -<p class='c006'>From this interest the various passions -are explicable, which mix generally with -the defence of these philosophical systems. -The dogmatist is in danger of losing his -Self when his system is attacked; and yet -he is not armed against this attack, because -there is something within him which takes -part with the aggressor; hence, he defends -himself with bitterness and heat. The idealist, -on the contrary, cannot well refrain -from looking down upon his opponent with -a certain carelessness, since the latter can -tell him nothing which he has not known -long ago and has cast away as useless. The -dogmatist gets angry, misconstrues, and -would persecute, if he had the power; the -idealist is cold and in danger of ridiculing -his antagonist.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Hence, what philosophy a man chooses -depends entirely upon what kind of man -he is; for a philosophical system is not a -piece of dead household furniture, which -you may use or not use, but is animated -by the soul of the man who has it. Men -of a naturally weak-minded character, or -who have become weak-minded and crooked -through intellectual slavery, scholarly luxury -and vanity, will never elevate themselves -to idealism.</p> - -<p class='c006'>You can show the dogmatist the insufficiency -and inconsequence of his system, of -which we shall speak directly; you can -confuse and terrify him from all sides; but -you cannot <i>convince</i> him, because he is unable -to listen to and examine with calmness -what he cannot tolerate. If Idealism -should prove to be the only real Philosophy, -it will also appear that a man must be born -a philosopher, be educated to be one, and -educate himself to be one; but that no -human art (no external force) can make a -<span class='pageno' id='Page_30'>30</span>philosopher out of him. Hence, this Science -expects few proselytes from men who -have already formed their character; if -our Philosophy has any hopes at all, it entertains -them rather from the young generation, -the natural vigor of which has not -yet been submerged in the weak-mindedness -of the age.</p> - -<p class='c006'>VI. But dogmatism is totally incapable -of explaining what it should explain, and -this is decisive in regard to its insufficiency. -It is to explain the representation of -things, and proposes to explain them as an -effect of the Things. Now, the dogmatist -cannot deny what immediate consciousness -asserts of this representation. What, -then, does it assert thereof? It is not my -purpose here to put in a conception what -can only be gathered in immediate contemplation, -nor to exhaust that which forms a -great portion of the Science of Knowledge. -I will merely recall to memory what every -one, who has but firmly looked within himself, -must long since have discovered.</p> - -<p class='c006'>The Intelligence, as such, <i>sees itself</i>, and -this seeing of its self is immediately connected -with all that appertains to the Intelligence; -and in this immediate uniting of -<i>Being</i> and <i>Seeing</i> the nature of the Intelligence -consists. Whatever is in the Intelligence, -whatever the Intelligence is -itself, the Intelligence is <i>for itself</i>, and -only in so far as it is this <i>for itself</i> is it -this, as Intelligence.</p> - -<p class='c006'>I think this or that object! Now what -does this mean, and how do I appear to -myself in this Thinking? Not otherwise -than thus: I produce certain conditions -within myself, if the object is a mere invention; -but if the objects are real and -exist without my invention, I simply contemplate, -as a spectator, the production of -those conditions within me. They are -within me only in so far as I contemplate -them; my contemplation and their Being -are inseparably united.</p> - -<p class='c006'>A Thing, on the contrary, is to be this -or that; but as soon as the question is put: -<i>For whom</i> is it this? Nobody, who but -comprehends the word, will reply: For -itself! But he will have to add the -thought of an Intelligence, <i>for</i> which the -Thing is to be; while, on the contrary, the -Intelligence is self-sufficient and requires -no additional thought. By thinking it as -the Intelligence you include already that -for which it is to be. Hence, there is in -the Intelligence, to express myself figuratively, -a twofold—Being and Seeing, the -Real and the Ideal; and in the inseparability -of this twofold the nature of the Intelligence -consists, while the Thing is simply -a unit—the Real. Hence Intelligence and -Thing are directly opposed to each other; -they move in two worlds, between which -there is no bridge.</p> - -<p class='c006'>The nature of the Intelligence and its -particular determinations Dogmatism endeavors -to explain by the principle of -Causality; the Intelligence is to be a production, -the second link in a series.</p> - -<p class='c006'>But the principle of causality applies to -a <i>real</i> series, and not to a double one. The -power of the cause goes over into an Other -opposed to it, and produces therein a Being, -and nothing further; a Being for a -possible outside Intelligence, but not for -the thing itself. You may give this Other -even a mechanical power, and it will transfer -the received impression to the next -link, and thus the movement proceeding -from the first may be transferred through -as long a series as you choose to make; -but nowhere will you find a link which reacts -back upon itself. Or give the Other -the highest quality which you can give a -thing—Sensibility—whereby it will follow -the laws of its own inner nature, and not -the law given to it by the cause—and it -will, to be sure, react upon the outward -cause; but it will, nevertheless, remain a -mere simple Being, a Being for a possible -intelligence outside of it. The Intelligence -you will not get, unless you add it in thinking -as the primary and absolute, the connection -of which, with this your <i>independent</i> -Being, you will find it very difficult to -explain.</p> - -<p class='c006'>The series is and remains a simple one; -and you have not at all explained what was -to be explained. You were to prove the -connection between Being and Representation; -but this you do not, nor can you -do it; for your principle contains merely -the ground of a Being, and not of a Representation, -totally opposed to Being. You -<span class='pageno' id='Page_31'>31</span>take an immense leap into a world, totally -removed from your principle. This leap -they seek to hide in various ways. Rigorously—and -this is the course of consistent -dogmatism, which thus becomes -materialism;—the soul is to them no Thing -at all, and indeed nothing at all, but merely -a production, the result of the reciprocal action -of Things amongst themselves. But -this reciprocal action produces merely a -change in the Things, and by no means -anything apart from the Things, unless you -add an observing intelligence. The similes -which they adduce to make their system -comprehensible, for instance, that of the -harmony resulting from sounds of different -instruments, make its irrationality only -more apparent. For the harmony is not in -the instruments, but merely in the mind of -the hearer, who combines within himself -the manifold into One; and unless you -have such a hearer there is no harmony at -all.</p> - -<p class='c006'>But who can prevent Dogmatism from -assuming the Soul as one of the Things, -<i>per se</i>? The soul would thus belong to -what it has postulated for the solution of -its problem, and, indeed, would thereby -be made the category of cause and effect -applicable to the Soul and the Things—materialism -only permitting a reciprocal -action of the Things amongst themselves—and -thoughts might now be produced. To -make the Unthinkable thinkable, Dogmatism -has, indeed, attempted to presuppose -Thing or the Soul, or both, in such a manner, -that the effect of the Thing was to -produce a representation. The Thing, as -influencing the Soul, is to be such, as to -make its influences representations; <span class='sc'>God</span>, -for instance, in Berkley’s system, was such -a thing. (His system is dogmatic, not -idealistic.) But this does not better matters; -we understand only mechanical -effects, and it is impossible for us to understand -any other kind of effects. Hence, -that presupposition contains merely words, -but there is no sense in it. Or the soul -is to be of such a nature that every effect -upon the Soul turns into a representation. -But this also we find it impossible to -understand.</p> - -<p class='c006'>In this manner Dogmatism proceeds -everywhere, whatever phase it may assume. -In the immense gulf, which in that system -remains always open between Things and -Representations, it places a few empty -words instead of an explanation, which -words may certainly be committed to memory, -but in saying which nobody has ever -yet thought, nor ever will think, anything. -For whenever one attempts to think the -manner in which is accomplished what -Dogmatism asserts to be accomplished, the -whole idea vanishes into empty foam. -Hence Dogmatism can only repeat its -principle, and repeat it in different forms; -can only assert and re-assert the same -thing; but it cannot proceed from what it -asserts to what is to be explained, nor ever -deduce the one from the other. But in -this deduction Philosophy consists. Hence -Dogmatism, even when viewed from a -speculative stand-point, is no Philosophy -at all, but merely an impotent assertion. -Idealism is the only possible remaining -Philosophy. What we have here said can -meet with no objection; but it may well -meet with incapability of understanding -it. That all influences are of a mechanical -nature, and that no mechanism can produce -a representation, nobody will deny, -who but understands the words. But this -is the very difficulty. It requires a certain -degree of independence and freedom of -spirit to comprehend the nature of the intelligence, -which we have described, and -upon which our whole refutation of Dogmatism -is founded. Many persons have -not advanced further with their Thinking -than to comprehend the simple chain of natural -mechanism, and very naturally, therefore, -the Representation, if they choose -to think it at all, belongs, in their eyes, to -the same chain of which alone they have -any knowledge. The Representation thus -becomes to them a sort of Thing of which -we have divers examples in some of the -most celebrated philosophical writers. For -such persons Dogmatism is sufficient: for -them there is no gulf, since the opposite does -not exist for them at all. Hence you cannot -convince the Dogmatist by the proof -just stated, however clear it may be, for you -cannot bring the proof to his knowledge, -since he lacks the power to comprehend it.</p> - -<p class='c006'><span class='pageno' id='Page_32'>32</span>Moreover, the manner in which Dogmatism -is treated here, is opposed to the mild -way of thinking which characterizes our -age, and which, though it has been extensively -accepted in all ages, has never been -converted to an express principle except in -ours; i. e. that philosophers must not be -so strict in their logic; in philosophy one -should not be so particular as, for instance, -in Mathematics. If persons of this mode -of thinking see but a few links of the -chain and the rule, according to which -conclusions are drawn, they at once fill up -the remaining part through their imagination, -never investigating further of what -they may consist. If, for instance, an -Alexander Von Ioch tells them: “All -things are determined by natural necessity; -now our representations depend -upon the condition of Things, and our -will depends upon our representations: -hence all our will is determined by natural -necessity, and our opinion of a free will is -mere deception!”—then these people think -it mightily comprehensible and clear, although -there is no sense in it; and they go -away convinced and satisfied at the stringency -of this his demonstration.</p> - -<p class='c006'>I must call to mind, that the Science of -Knowledge does not proceed from this -mild way of thinking, nor calculate upon -it. If only a single link in the long chain -it has to draw does not fit closely to the -following, this Science does not pretend to -have established anything.</p> - -<p class='c006'>VII. Idealism, as we have said above, -explains the determinations of consciousness -from the activity of the Intelligence, -which, in its view, is only active and absolute, -not passive; since it is postulated -as the first and highest, preceded by nothing, -which might explain its passivity. -From the same reason actual <i>Existence</i> cannot -well be ascribed to the Intelligence, -since such Existence is the result of reciprocal -causality, but there is nothing -wherewith the Intelligence might be placed -in reciprocal causality. From the view of -Idealism, the Intelligence is a <i>Doing</i>, and -absolutely nothing else; it is even wrong -to call it <i>an Active</i>, since this expression -points to something existing, in which the -activity is inherent.</p> - -<p class='c006'>But to assume anything of this kind is -against the principle of Idealism, which -proposes to deduce all other things from -the Intelligence. Now certain <i>determined</i> -representations—as, for instance, of a -world, of a material world in space, existing -without any work of our own—are to -be deduced from the action of the Intelligence; -but you cannot deduce anything -determined from an undetermined; the -form of all deductions, the category of -ground and sequence, is not applicable -here. Hence the action of the Intelligence, -which is made the ground, must be a <i>determined</i> -action, and since the action of -the Intelligence itself is the highest ground -of explanation, that action must be so determined -<i>by the Intelligence itself</i>, and not -by anything foreign to it. Hence the presupposition -of Idealism will be this: the Intelligence -acts, but by its very essence it -can only act in a certain manner. If this -necessary manner of its action is considered -apart from the action, it may properly be -called Laws of Action. Hence, there are -necessary laws of the Intelligence.</p> - -<p class='c006'>This explains also, at the same time, the -feeling of necessity which accompanies -the determined representations; the Intelligence -experiences in those cases, not an -impression from without, but feels in its -action the limits of its own Essence. In -so far as Idealism makes this only reasonable -and really explanatory presupposition -of necessary laws of the Intelligence, it is -called <i>Critical</i> or <i>Transcendental Idealism</i>. -A transcendent Idealism would be a system -which were to undertake a deduction -of determined representations from the -free and perfectly lawless action of the -Intelligence: an altogether contradictory -presupposition, since, as we have said -above, the category of ground and sequence -is not applicable in that case.</p> - -<p class='c006'>The laws of action of the Intelligence, -as sure as they are to be founded in the -one nature of the Intelligence, constitute -in themselves a system; that is to say, the -fact that the Intelligence acts in this particular -manner under this particular condition -<i>is</i> explainable, and explainable because -under a condition it has always a -determined mode of action, which again is -<span class='pageno' id='Page_33'>33</span>explainable from <i>one</i> highest fundamental -law. In the course of its action the Intelligence -gives itself its own laws; and this -legislation itself is done by virtue of a -higher necessary action or Representation. -For instance: the law of Causality is not a -first original law, but only one of the many -modes of combining the manifold, and to -be deduced from the fundamental law of -this combination; this law of combining -the manifold is again, like the manifold -itself, to be deduced from higher laws.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Hence, even Critical Idealism can proceed -in a twofold manner. Either it deduces -this system of necessary modes of -action, and together with it the objective -representations arising therefrom, really -from the fundamental laws of the Intelligence, -and thus causes gradually to arise -under the very eyes of the reader or hearer -the whole extent of our representations; or -it gathers these laws—perhaps as they are -already immediately applied to objects; -hence, in a lower condition, and then they -are called categories—gathers these laws -somewhere, and now asserts, that the objects -are determined and regulated by -them.</p> - -<p class='c006'>I ask the critic who follows the last-mentioned -method, and who does not deduce -the assumed laws of the Intelligence -from the Essence of the Intelligence, -where he gets the material knowledge of -these laws, the knowledge that they are -just these very same laws; for instance, -that of Substantiality or Causality? For -I do not want to trouble him yet with the -question, how he knows that they are mere -immanent laws of the Intelligence. They -are the laws which are immediately applied -to objects, and he can only have obtained -them by abstraction from these objects, -i. e. from Experience. It is of no avail if -he takes them, by a roundabout way, from -logic, for logic is to him only the result -of abstraction from the objects, and hence -he would do indirectly, what directly might -appear too clearly in its true nature. -Hence he can prove by nothing that his -postulated Laws of Thinking are really -Laws of Thinking, are really nothing but -immanent laws of the Intelligence. The -Dogmatist asserts in opposition, that they -are not, but that they are general qualities -of Things, founded on the nature of -Things, and there is no reason why we -should place more faith in the unproved -assertion of the one than in the unproved -assertion of the other. This course of proceeding, -indeed, furnishes no understanding -that and why the Intelligence should act -just in this particular manner. To produce -such an understanding, it would be necessary -to premise something which can only -appertain to the Intelligence, and from -those premises to deduce before our eyes -the laws of Thinking.</p> - -<p class='c006'>By such a course of proceeding it is -above all incomprehensible how the object -itself is obtained; for although you may -admit the unproved postulates of the critic, -they explain nothing further than the -<i>qualities</i> and <i>relations</i> of the Thing: (that -it is, for instance, in space, manifested in -time, with accidences which must be referred -to a substance, &c.) But whence -that which has these relations and qualities? -whence then the substance which -is clothed in these forms? This substance -Dogmatism takes refuge in, and you have -but increased the evil.</p> - -<p class='c006'>We know very well: the Thing arises only -from an act done in accordance with these -laws, and is, indeed, nothing else than -<i>all these relations gathered together by the -power of imagination</i>; and all these relations -together are the Thing. The Object -is the original Synthesis of all these conceptions. -Form and Substance are not -separates; the whole formness is the substance, -and only in the analysis do we arrive -at separate forms.</p> - -<p class='c006'>But this the critic, who follows the above -method, can only assert, and it is even a -secret whence he knows it, if he does know -it. Until you cause the whole Thing to -arise before the eyes of the thinker, you -have not pursued Dogmatism into its last -hiding places. But this is only possible -by letting the Intelligence act in its whole, -and not in its partial, lawfulness.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Hence, an Idealism of this character is -unproven and unprovable. Against Dogmatism -it has no other weapon than the -assertion that it is in the right; and against -the more perfected criticism no other weapon -<span class='pageno' id='Page_34'>34</span>than impotent anger, and the assurance -that you can go no further than itself -goes.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Finally a system of this character puts -forth only those laws, according to which -the objects of external experience are determined. -But these constitute by far the -smallest portion of the laws of the Intelligence. -Hence, on the field of Practical Reason -and of Reflective Judgment, this half -criticism, lacking the insight into the -whole procedure of reason, gropes about -as in total darkness.</p> - -<p class='c006'>The method of complete transcendental -Idealism, which the Science of Knowledge -pursues, I have explained once before in -my Essay, <i>On the conception of the Science -of Knowledge</i>. I cannot understand why -that Essay has not been understood; but -suffice it to say, that I am assured it has -not been understood. I am therefore compelled -to repeat what I have said, and to -recall to mind that everything depends -upon the correct understanding thereof.</p> - -<p class='c006'>This Idealism proceeds from a single -fundamental Law of Reason, which is immediately -shown as contained in consciousness. -This is done in the following -manner: The teacher of that Science requests -his reader or hearer to think freely -a certain conception. If he does so, he will -find himself forced to proceed in a particular -manner. Two things are to be distinguished -here: the act of Thinking, which is -required—the realization of which depends -upon each individual’s freedom,—and unless -he realizes it thus, he will not understand -anything which the Science of -Knowledge teaches; and the necessary -manner in which it alone can be realized, -which manner is grounded in the Essence -of the Intelligence, and does not depend -upon freedom; it is something <i>necessary</i>, -but which is only discovered in and together -with a free action; it is something -<i>discovered</i>, but the discovery of which depends -upon an act of freedom.</p> - -<p class='c006'>So far as this goes, the teacher of Idealism -shows his assertion to be contained in -immediate consciousness. But that this -necessary manner is the fundamental law -of all reason, that from it the whole system -of our necessary representations, not -only of a world and the determinedness and -relations of objects, but also of ourselves, -as free and practical beings acting under -laws, can be deduced. All this is a mere -presupposition, which can only be proven -by the actual deduction, which deduction is -therefore the real business of the teacher.</p> - -<p class='c006'>In realizing this deduction, he proceeds -as follows: <i>He shows that the first fundamental -law which was discovered in immediate -consciousness, is not possible, unless -a second action is combined with it, which -again is not possible without a third action; -and so on, until the conditions of the First -are completely exhausted, and itself is now -made perfectly comprehensible in its possibility</i>. -The teacher’s method is a continual -progression from the conditioned to -the condition. The condition becomes -again conditioned, and its condition is next -to be discovered.</p> - -<p class='c006'>If the presupposition of Idealism is correct, -and if no errors have been made in the -deduction, the last result, as containing all -the conditions of the first act, must contain -the system of all necessary representations, -or the total experience;—a comparison, -however, which is not instituted in -Philosophy itself, but only after that science -has finished its work.</p> - -<p class='c006'>For Idealism has not kept this experience -in sight, as the preknown object and -result, which it should arrive at; in its -course of proceeding it knows nothing at -all of experience, and does not look upon -it; it proceeds from its starting point according -to its rules, careless as to what the -result of its investigations might turn out -to be. The right angle, from which it has -to draw its straight line, is given to it; is -there any need of another point to which -the line should be drawn? Surely not; for -all the points of its line are already given -to it with the angle. A certain number is -given to you. You suppose that it is -the product of certain factors. All you -have to do is to search for the product of -these factors according to the well-known -rules. Whether that product will agree -with the given number, you will find out, -without any difficulty, as soon as you have -obtained it. The given number is the total -experience; those factors are: the part of -<span class='pageno' id='Page_35'>35</span>immediate consciousness which was discovered, -and the laws of Thinking; the -multiplication is the Philosophizing. Those -who advise you, while philosophizing, -also to keep an eye upon experience, advise -you to change the factors a little, and to -multiply falsely, so as to obtain by all -means corresponding numbers; a course of -proceeding as dishonest as it is shallow. -In so far as those final results of Idealism -are viewed as such, as consequences of our -reasoning, they are what is called the <i>a -priori</i> of the human mind; and in so far -as they are viewed, also—if they should -agree with experience—as given in experience, -they are called <i>a posteriori</i>. Hence -the <i>a priori</i> and the <i>a posteriori</i> are, in a -true Philosophy, not two, but one and the -same, only viewed in two different ways, -and distinguished only by the manner in -which they are obtained. Philosophy anticipates -the whole experience, <i>thinks</i> it -only as necessary; and, in so far, Philosophy -is, in comparison with real experience, -<i>a priori</i>. The number is <i>a posteriori</i>, if regarded -as given; the same number is <i>a -priori</i>, if regarded as product of the factors. -Whosoever says otherwise knows -not what he talks about.</p> - -<p class='c006'>If the results of a Philosophy do not -agree with experience, that Philosophy is -surely wrong; for it has not fulfilled its -promise of deducing the whole experience -from the necessary action of the intelligence. -In that case, either the presupposition -of transcendental Idealism is altogether -incorrect, or it has merely been incorrectly -treated in the particular representation -of that science. Now, since the -problem, to explain experience from its -ground, is a problem contained in human -reason, and as no rational man will admit -that human reason contains any problem -the solution of which is altogether impossible; -and since, moreover, there are -only two ways of solving it, the dogmatic -system (which, as we have shown, cannot -accomplish what it promises) and the Idealistic -system, every resolute Thinker will -always declare that the latter has been the -case; that the presupposition in itself is -correct enough, and that no failure in attempts -to represent it should deter men -from attempting it again until finally it -must succeed. The course of this Idealism -proceeds, as we have seen, from a fact -of consciousness—but which is only obtained -by a free act of Thinking—to the total -experience. Its peculiar ground is between -these two. It is not a fact of consciousness -and does not belong within the -sphere of experience; and, indeed, how -could it be called Philosophy if it did, since -Philosophy has to discover the ground of -experience, and since the ground lies, of -course, beyond the sequence. It is the -production of free Thinking, but proceeding -according to laws. This will be at once -clear, if we look a little closer at the fundamental -assertion of Idealism. It proves -that the Postulated is not possible without -a second, this not without a third, &c., &c.; -hence none of all its conditions is possible -alone and by itself, but each one is only -possible in its union with all the rest. -Hence, according to its own assertion, only -the Whole is found in consciousness, and -this Whole is the experience. You want -to obtain a better knowledge of it; hence -you must analyze it, not by blindly groping -about, but according to the fixed rule of -composition, so that it arises under your -eyes as a Whole. You are enabled to do -this because you have the power of abstraction; -because in free Thinking you can -certainly take hold of each single condition. -For consciousness contains not only -necessity of Representations, but also freedom -thereof; and this freedom again may -proceed according to rules. The Whole is -given to you from the point of view of necessary -consciousness; you find it just as -you find yourself. But the <i>composition</i> of -this Whole, the order of its arrangement, -is produced by freedom. Whosoever undertakes -this act of freedom, becomes conscious -of freedom, and thus establishes, as -it were, a new field within his consciousness; -whosoever does not undertake it, for -him this new field, dependent thereupon, -does not exist. The chemist composes a -body, a metal for instance, from its elements. -The common beholder sees the -metal well known to him; the chemist beholds, -moreover, the composition thereof -and the elements which it comprises. Do -<span class='pageno' id='Page_36'>36</span>both now see different objects? I should -think not! Both see the same, only in a -different manner. The chemist’s sight is -<i>a priori</i>; he sees the separates; the ordinary -beholder’s sight is <i>a posteriori</i>; he -sees the Whole. The only distinction is -this: the chemist must first analyze the -Whole before he can compose it, because -he works upon an object of which he cannot -know the rule of composition before -he has analyzed it; while the philosopher -can compose without a foregoing analysis, -because he knows already the rule of his -object, of reason.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Hence the content of Philosophy can -claim no other reality than that of necessary -Thinking, on the condition that you -desire to think of the ground of Experience. -The Intelligence can only be -thought as active, and can only be thought -active in this particular manner! Such is -the assertion of Philosophy. And this -reality is perfectly sufficient for Philosophy, -since it is evident from the development of -that science that there is no other reality.</p> - -<p class='c006'>This now described complete critical -Idealism, the Science of Knowledge intends -to establish. What I have said just now -contains the conception of that science, and -I shall listen to no objections which may -touch this conception, since no one can -know better than myself what I intend to -accomplish, and to demonstrate the impossibility -of a thing which is already realized, -is ridiculous.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Objections, to be legitimate, should only -be raised against the elaboration of that -conception, and should only consider -whether it has fulfilled what it promised to -accomplish or not.</p> -<h3 class='c001'>ANALYTICAL AND CRITICAL ESSAY UPON THE ÆSTHETICS OF HEGEL. <br /> [Translated from the French of M. Ch. Bénard by J. A. Martling.]</h3> -<h4 class='c012'>ANALYSIS.</h4> -<p class='c005'>Having undertaken to translate into our -language the Æsthetics of Hegel, we hope -to render a new service to our readers, by -presenting, in an analysis at once cursory -and detailed the outline of the ideas which -form the basis of that vast work. The -thought of the author will appear shorn of -its rich developments; but it will be more -easy to seize the general spirit, the connection -of the various parts of the work, and -to appreciate their value. In order not to -mar the clearness of our work, we shall -abstain from mingling criticism with exposition; -but reserve for the conclusion a -general judgment upon this book, which -represents even to-day the state of the -philosophy of art in Germany.</p> - -<p class='c006'>The work is divided into three parts; -the first treats <i>of the beautiful in art in -general</i>; <i>the second, of the general forms of -art in its historic development</i>; <i>the third -contains the system of the arts—the theory -of architecture, sculpture, painting, music, -and poetry</i>.</p> -<h4 class='c012'>PART I. <br /> OF THE BEAUTIFUL IN ART.</h4> -<p class='c005'>In an extended introduction, Hegel lays -the foundations of the science of the Beautiful: -he defines its object, demonstrates -its legitimacy, and indicates its method; -he then undertakes to determine the nature -and the end of art. Upon each of these -points let us endeavor to state, in a brief -manner, his thought, and, if it is necessary, -explain it.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Æsthetics <i>is the science of the Beautiful</i>. -The Beautiful manifests itself in nature and -in art; but the variety and multiplicity -of forms under which beauty presents -itself in the real world, does not permit -their description and systematic classification. -The science of the Beautiful has -then as its principal object, art and its -works; it is the <i>philosophy of the fine arts</i>.</p> - -<p class='c006'><span class='pageno' id='Page_37'>37</span>Is art a proper object of science? No, -undoubtedly, if we consider it only as an -amusement or a frivolous relaxation. But -it has a nobler purpose. It will even be a -misconception of its true aim to regard it -simply as an auxiliary of morals and religion. -Although it often serves as interpreter -of moral and religious ideas, it preserves -its independence. Its proper object -is to reveal truth under sensuous forms.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Nor is it allowable to say that it produces -its effects by illusion. Appearance, -here, is truer than reality. The images -which it places under our eyes are more -ideal, more transparent, and also more durable -than the mobile and fugitive existences -of the real world. The world of art is -truer than that of nature and of history.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Can science subject to its formulas the -free creations of the imagination? Art -and science, it is true, differ in their methods; -but imagination, also, has its laws; -though free, it has not the right to be lawless. -In art, nothing is arbitrary; its -ground <i>is the essence of things</i>; its form is -borrowed from the real world, and the -Beautiful is the accord, the harmony of -the two terms. Philosophy recognizes in -works of art the eternal content of its -meditations, the lofty conceptions of intelligence, -the passions of man, and the -motives of his volition. Philosophy does -not pretend to furnish prescriptions to art, -but is able to give useful advice; it follows -it in its procedures, it points out to -it the paths whereon it may go astray; it -alone can furnish to criticism a solid basis -and fixed principles.</p> - -<p class='c006'>As to the method to be followed, two -exclusive and opposite courses present -themselves. The one, <i>empiric</i> and <i>historic</i>, -seeks to draw from the study of the master-pieces -of art, the laws of criticism and the -principles of taste. The other, <i>rational</i> -and <i>a priori</i>, rises immediately to the idea -of the beautiful, and deduces from it certain -general rules. Aristotle and Plato represent -these two methods. The first -reaches only a narrow theory, incapable of -comprehending art in its universality; the -other, isolating itself on the heights of -metaphysics, knows not how to descend -therefrom to apply itself to particular arts, -and to appreciate their works. The true -method consists in the union of these two -methods, in their reconciliation and simultaneous -employment. To a positive acquaintance -with works of art, to the discrimination -and delicacy of taste necessary -to appreciate them, there should be -joined philosophic reflection, and the capacity -of seizing the Beautiful in itself, -and of comprehending its characteristics -and immutable laws.</p> - -<p class='c006'>What is the nature of art? The answer -to this question can only be the philosophy -of art itself; and, furthermore, this again -can be perfectly understood only in its connection -with the other philosophic sciences. -One is here compelled to limit himself to -general reflections, and to the discussion -of received opinions.</p> - -<p class='c006'>In the first place, art is a product of human -activity, a creation of the mind. What -distinguishes it from science is this, that -it is the fruit of inspiration, not of reflection. -On this account it can not be learned -or transmitted; it is a gift of genius. -Nothing can possibly supply a lack of talent -in the arts.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Let us guard ourselves meanwhile from -supposing that, like the blind forces of -nature, the artist does not know what he -does, that reflection has no part in his -works. There is, in the first place, in the -arts a technical part which must be learned, -and a skill which is acquired by practice. -Furthermore, the more elevated art becomes, -the more it demands an extended -and varied culture, a study of the objects -of nature, and a profound knowledge of -the human heart. This is eminently true -of the higher spheres of art, especially in -Poetry.</p> - -<p class='c006'>If works of art are creations of the human -spirit, they are not on that account -inferior to those of nature. They are, it -is true, <i>living</i>, only in appearance; but the -aim of art is not to create living beings; -it seeks to offer to the spirit an image of -life clearer than the reality. In this, it -<i>surpasses</i> nature. There is also something -divine in man, and God derives no less -honor from the works of human intelligence -than from the works of nature.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Now what is the cause which incites man -<span class='pageno' id='Page_38'>38</span>to the production of such works? Is it a -caprice, a freak, or an earnest, fundamental -inclination of his nature?</p> - -<p class='c006'>It is the same principle which causes -him to seek in science food for his mind, -in public life a theatre for his activity. In -science he endeavors to cognize the truth, -pure and unveiled; in art, truth appears -to him not in its pure form, but expressed -by images which strike his sense at the same -time that they speak to his intelligence. -This is the principle in which art originates, -and which assigns to it a rank so high -among the creations of the human mind.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Although art is addressed to the sensibility, -nevertheless its direct aim is not to -excite sensation, and to give birth to pleasure. -Sensation is changeful, varied, contradictory. -It represents only the various -states or modifications of the soul. If then -we consider only the impressions which -art produces upon us, we make abstraction -of the truth which it reveals to us. It -becomes even impossible to comprehend -its grand effects; for the sentiments which -it excites in us, are explicable only through -the ideas which attach to them.</p> - -<p class='c006'>The sensuous element, nevertheless, occupies -a large place in art. What part -must be assigned to it? There are two -modes of considering sensuous objects in -their connection with our mind. The first -is that of simple perception of objects by -the senses. The mind then knows only -their individual side, their particular and -concrete form; the essence, the law, the -substance of things escapes it. At the -same time the desire which is awakened -in us, is a desire to appropriate them to our -use, to consume them, to destroy them. -The soul, in the presence of these objects, -feels its dependence; it cannot contemplate -them with a free and disinterested -eye.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Another relation of sensuous objects -with spirit, is that of speculative thought -or science. Here the intelligence is not -content to perceive the object in its concrete -form and its individuality; it discards -the individual side in order to abstract -and disengage from it the law, the -universal, the essence. Reason thus lifts -itself above the individual form perceived -by sense, in order to conceive the pure -idea in its universality.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Art differs both from the one and from -the other of these modes; it holds the -mean between sensuous perception and -rational abstraction. It is distinguished -from the first in that it does not attach -itself to the real but to the appearance, to -the form of the object, and in that it does -not feel any selfish longing to consume it, -to cause it to serve a purpose, to utilize it. -It differs from science in that it is interested -in this particular object, and in its sensuous -form. What it loves to see in it, is -neither its materiality, nor the pure idea -in its generality, but an appearance, an -image of the truth, something ideal which -appears in it; it seizes the connective of -the two terms, their accord and their inner -harmony. Thus the want which it feels -is wholly contemplative. In the presence -of this vision the soul feels itself freed -from all selfish desire.</p> - -<p class='c006'>In a word, art purposely creates images, -appearances, designed to represent ideas, -to show to us the truth under sensuous -forms. Thereby it has the power of stirring -the soul in its profoundest depths, of -causing it to experience the pure delight -springing from the sight and contemplation -of the Beautiful.</p> - -<p class='c006'>The two principles are found equally -combined in the artist. The sensuous side -is included in the faculty which creates—the -imagination. It is not by mechanical -toil, directed by rules learned by heart -that he executes his works; nor is it by a -process of reflection like that of the philosopher -who is seeking the truth. The mind -has a consciousness of itself, but it cannot -seize in an abstract manner the idea which -it conceives; it can represent it only under -sensuous forms. The image and the idea -coexist in thought, and cannot be separated. -Thus the imagination is itself a -gift of nature. Scientific genius is rather -a general capacity than an innate and special -talent. To succeed in the arts, there -is necessary a determinate talent which -reveals itself early under the form of -an active and irresistible longing, and -a certain facility in the manipulation -of the materials of art. It is this which -<span class='pageno' id='Page_39'>39</span>makes the painter, the sculptor, the musician.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Such is the nature of art. If it be asked, -what is its end, here we encounter the most -diverse opinions. The most common is -that which gives imitation as its object. -This is the foundation of nearly all the -theories upon art. Now of what use to reproduce -that which nature already offers -to our view? This puerile talk, unworthy -of spirit to which it is addressed, unworthy -of man who produces it, would only end -in the revelation of its impotency and -the vanity of its efforts; for the copy will -always remain inferior to the original. -Besides, the more exact the imitation, the -less vivid is the pleasure. That which -pleases us is not imitation, but creation. -The very least invention surpasses all the -masterpieces of imitation.</p> - -<p class='c006'>In vain is it said that art ought to imitate -beautiful Nature. To select is no -longer to imitate. Perfection in imitation -is exactness; moreover, choice supposes a -rule; where find the criterion? What -signifies, in fine, imitation in architecture, -in music, and even in poetry? At most, -one can thus explain descriptive poetry, -that is to say, the most prosaic kind. We -must conclude, therefore, that if, in its -compositions, art employs the forms of -Nature, and must study them, its aim is -not to copy and to reproduce them. Its mission -is higher—its procedure freer. Rival -of nature, it represents ideas as well as -she, and even better; it uses her forms as -symbols to express them; and it fashions -even these, remodels them upon a type -more perfect and more pure. It is not -without significance that its works are -styled the creations of the genius of man.</p> - -<p class='c006'>A second system substitutes expression -for imitation. Art accordingly has for its -aim, not to represent the external form of -things, but their internal and living principle, -particularly the ideas, sentiments, -passions, and conditions of the soul.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Less gross than the preceding, this -theory is no less false and dangerous. -Let us here distinguish two things: the -idea and the expression—the content and -the form. Now, if Art is designed for expression -solely—if expression is its essential -object—its content is indifferent. -Provided that the picture be faithful, the -expression lively and animated, the good -and the bad, the vicious, the hideous, the -ugly, have the same right to figure here as -the Beautiful. Immoral, licentious, impious, -the artist will have fulfilled his obligation -and reached perfection, when he -has succeeded in faithfully rendering a -situation, a passion, an idea, be it true or -false. It is clear that if in this system -the object of imitation is changed, the -procedure is the same. Art would be only -an echo, a harmonious language; a living -mirror, where all sentiments and all -passions would find themselves reflected, -the base part and the noble part of the soul -contending here for the same place. The -true, here, would be the real, would include -objects the most diverse and the most contradictory. -Indifferent as to the content, -the artist seeks only to represent it well. He -troubles himself little concerning truth in -itself. Skeptic or enthusiast indifferently, -he makes us partake of the delirium of -the Bacchanals, or the unconcern of the -Sophist. Such is the system which takes -for a motto the maxim, <i>Art is for art</i>; that -is to say, mere expression for its own sake. -Its consequences, and the fatal tendency -which it has at all times pressed upon the -arts, are well known.</p> - -<p class='c006'>A third system sets up <i>moral perfection</i> -as the aim of art. It cannot be denied -that one of the effects of art is to soften -and purify manners (<i>emollit mores</i>). In -mirroring man to himself, it tempers the -rudeness of his appetites and his passions; -it disposes him to contemplation and reflection; -it elevates his thought and sentiments, -by leading them to an ideal which -it suggests,—to ideas of a superior order. -Art has, from all time, been regarded as -a powerful instrument of civilization, as -an auxiliary of religion. It is, together -with religion, the earliest instructor of -nations; it is besides a means of instruction -for minds incapable of comprehending -truth otherwise than under the veil of a -symbol, and by images that address themselves -to the sense as well as to the spirit.</p> - -<p class='c006'>But this theory, although much superior -to the preceding, is no more exact. Its -<span class='pageno' id='Page_40'>40</span>defect consists in confounding the moral -effect of art with its real aim. This confusion -has inconveniences which do not -appear at the first glance. Let care be -taken, meanwhile, lest, in thus assigning -to art a foreign aim, it be not robbed of -its liberty, which is its essence, and without -which it has no inspiration—that -thereby it be not prevented from producing -the effects which are to be expected -from it. Between religion, morals and -art, there exists an eternal and intimate -harmony; but they are, none the less, essentially -diverse forms of truth, and, -while preserving entire the bonds which -unite them, they claim a complete independence. -Art has its peculiar laws, -methods and jurisdiction; though it ought -not to wound the moral sense, yet it is the -sense of the Beautiful to which it is addressed. -When its works are pure, its -effect on the soul is salutary, but its direct -and immediate aim is not this result. -Seeking it, it risks losing it, and does lose -its own end. Suppose, indeed, that the -aim of art should be to instruct, under the -veil of allegory; the idea, the abstract -and general thought, must be present in -the spirit of the artist at the very moment -of composition. It seeks, then, a form -which is adapted to that idea, and furnishes -drapery for it. Who does not see -that this procedure is the very opposite of -inspiration? There can be born of it only -frigid and lifeless works; its effect will -thus be neither moral nor religious; it -will produce only <i>ennui</i>.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Another consequence of the opinion -which makes moral perfection the object -of art and its creations, is that this end is -imposed so completely upon art, and controls -it to such a degree, that it has no -longer even a choice of subjects. The severe -moralist would have it represent moral -subjects alone. Art is then undone. This -system led Plato to banish poets from his -republic. If, then, it is necessary to -maintain the agreement of morality and -art, and the harmony of their laws, their -distinct bases and independence must also -be recognized. In order to understand -thoroughly this distinction between morals -and art, it is necessary to have solved the -moral problem. Morality is the realization -of the “ought” by the free will; it -is the conflict between passion and reason, -inclination and law, the flesh and the -spirit. It hinges upon an opposition. -Antagonism is, indeed, the very law of -the physical and moral universe. But this -opposition ought to be cancelled. This is -the destiny of beings who by their development -and progress continually realize -themselves.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Now, in morals, this harmony of the -powers of our being, which should restore -peace and happiness, does not exist. -Morality proposes it as an end to the free -will. The aim and the realization are distinct. -Duty consists in an incessant striving. -Thus, in one respect, morals and -art have the same principle and the same -aim; the harmony of rectitude, and happiness -of actions and law. But that -wherein they differ is, that in morals the -end is never wholly attained. It appears -separated from the means; the consequence -is equally separated from the -principle. The harmony of rectitude and -happiness ought to be the result of the -efforts of virtue. In order to conceive -the identity of the two terms, it is necessary -to elevate one’s self to a superior -point of view, which is not that of morals. -In empirical science equally, the law appears -distinct from the phenomenon, the -essence separated from its form. In order -that this distinction may be cancelled, -there is necessary a mode of thinking -which is superior to that of reflection, or -of empirical science.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Art, on the contrary, offers to us in a -visible image, the realized harmony of the -two terms of existence, of the law of beings -and their manifestation, of essence -and form, of rectitude and happiness. -The beautiful is essence realized, activity -in conformity with its end, and -identified with it; it is the force which is -harmoniously developed under our eyes, -in the innermost of existences, and -which cancels the contradictions of its -nature: happy, free, full of serenity in -the very midst of suffering and of sorrow. -The problem of art is then distinct from -the moral problem. The good is harmony -<span class='pageno' id='Page_41'>41</span>sought for; beauty is harmony realized. -So must we understand the thought of -Hegel; he here only intimates it, but it -will be fully developed in the sequel.</p> - -<p class='c006'>The true aim of art is then to represent -the Beautiful, to reveal this harmony. This -is its only purpose. Every other aim, -purification, moral amelioration, edification, -are accessories or consequences. The -effect of the contemplation of the Beautiful -is to produce in us a calm and pure joy, incompatible -with the gross pleasures of -sense; it lifts the soul above the ordinary -sphere of its thoughts; it disposes to noble -resolutions and generous actions by the -close affinity which exists between the three -sentiments and the three ideas of the Good, -the Beautiful, and the Divine.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Such are the principal ideas which this -remarkable introduction contains. The remainder, -devoted to the examination of -works which have marked the development -of æsthetic science in Germany since -Kant, is scarcely susceptible of analysis, -and does not so much deserve our attention.</p> - -<p class='c006'><i>The first part</i> of the science of æsthetics, -which might be called the Metaphysics of -the Beautiful, contains, together with the -analysis of the idea of the Beautiful, the -general principles common to all the arts. -Thus Hegel here treats: <i>First, of the abstract -idea of the Beautiful; second, of the -Beautiful in nature; third, of the Beautiful -in art, or of the ideal.</i> He concludes with -an examination of the qualities of the artist. -But before entering upon these questions, -he thought it necessary to point out -the place of art in human life, and especially -<i>its connections with religion and -philosophy</i>.</p> - -<p class='c006'>The destination of man, the law of his -nature, is to develop himself incessantly, -to stretch unceasingly towards the infinite. -He ought, at the same time, to put an end -to the opposition which he finds in himself -between the elements and powers of his being; -to place them in accord by realizing -and developing them externally. Physical -life is a struggle between opposing forces, -and the living being can sustain itself only -through the conflict and the triumph of the -force which constitutes it. With man, and -in the moral sphere, this conflict and progressive -enfranchisement are manifested -under the form of freedom, which is the -highest destination of spirit. Freedom -consists in surmounting the obstacles which -it encounters within and without, in removing -the limits, in effacing all contradiction, -in vanquishing evil and sorrow, in -order to attain to harmony with the world -and with itself. In actual life, man seeks -to destroy that opposition by the satisfaction -of his physical wants. He calls to his -aid, industry and the useful arts; but he -obtains thus only limited, relative, and -transient enjoyments. He finds a nobler -pleasure in science, which furnishes food -for his ardent curiosity, and promises to -reveal to him the laws of nature and to -unveil the secrets of the universe. Civil -life opens another channel to his activity; -he burns to realize his conceptions; he -marches to the conquest of the right, and -pursues the ideal of justice which he bears -within him. He endeavors to realize in -civil society his instinct of sociability, -which is also the law of his being, and one -of the fundamental inclinations of his moral -nature.</p> - -<p class='c006'>But here, again, he attains an imperfect -felicity; he encounters limits and obstacles -which he cannot surmount, and against -which, his will is broken. He cannot obtain -the perfect realization of his ideas, -nor attain the ideal which his spirit conceives -and toward which it aspires. He -then feels the necessity of elevating himself -to a higher sphere where all contradictions -are cancelled; where the idea of the -good and of happiness in their perfect accord -and their enduring harmony is realized. -This profound want of the soul is -satisfied in three ways: in <i>art</i>, in <i>religion</i>, -and in <i>philosophy</i>. The function of art is -to lead us to the contemplation of the true, -the infinite, under sensuous forms; for the -beautiful is the unity, the realized harmony -of two principles of existence, of the -idea and the form, of the infinite and the -finite. This is the principle and the hidden -essence of things, beaming through -their visible form. Art presents us, in its -works, the image of this happy accord -where all opposition ceases, and where all -<span class='pageno' id='Page_42'>42</span>contradiction is cancelled. Such is the -aim of art: to represent the divine, the infinite, -under sensuous forms. This is its -mission; it has no other and this it alone -can fulfil. By this title it takes its place -by the side of religion, and preserves its -independence. It takes its rank also with -philosophy, whose object is the knowledge -of the true, of absolute truth.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Alike then as to their general ground -and aims, these three spheres are distinguished -by the form under which they become -revealed to the spirit and consciousness -of man. Art is addressed to sensuous -perception and to the imagination; religion -is addressed to the soul, to the conscience, -and to sentiment; philosophy is -addressed to pure thought or to the reason, -which conceives the truth in an abstract -manner.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Art, which offers us truth under sensuous -forms, does not, however, respond to -the profoundest needs of the soul. The -spirit is possessed of the desire of entering -into itself, of contemplating the truth in -the inner recesses of consciousness. Above -the domain of art, then, religion is placed, -which reveals the infinite, and by meditation -conveys to the depths of the heart, to -the centre of the soul, that which in art we -contemplate externally. As to philosophy, -its peculiar aim is to conceive and to comprehend, -by the intellect alone, under an -abstract form, that which is given as sentiment -or as sensuous representation.</p> - -<p class='c006'>I. <i>Of the Idea of the Beautiful.</i></p> - -<p class='c006'>After these preliminaries, Hegel enters -upon the questions which form the object -of this first part. He treats, in the first -place, of <i>the idea of the beautiful</i> in itself, -in its abstract nature. Freeing his thought -from the metaphysical forms which render -it difficult of comprehension to minds not -familiar with his system, we arrive at this -definition, already contained in the foregoing: -the Beautiful is the true, that is to -say, the essence, the inmost substance of -things; the true, not such as the mind conceives -it in its abstract and pure nature, -but as manifested to the senses under visible -forms. It is the sensuous <i>manifestation -of the idea</i>, which is the soul and -principle of things. This definition recalls -that of Plato: the Beautiful is the <i>splendor -of the true</i>.</p> - -<p class='c006'>What are the characteristics of the beautiful? -First, it is infinite in this sense, -that it is the divine principle itself which -is revealed and manifested, and that the -form which expresses it, in place of limiting -it, realizes it and confounds itself with -it; second, it is free, for true freedom is -not the absence of rule and measure, it is -force which develops itself easily and harmoniously. -It appears in the bosom of -the existences of the sensuous world, as -their principle of life, of unity, and of -harmony, whether free from all obstacle, -or victorious and triumphant in conflict, -always calm and serene.</p> - -<p class='c006'>The spectator who contemplates beauty -feels himself equally free, and has a consciousness -of his infinite nature. He tastes -a pure pleasure, resulting from the felt accord -of the powers of his being; a celestial -and divine joy, which has nothing in common -with material pleasures, and does not -suffer to exist in the soul a single impure -or gross desire.</p> - -<p class='c006'>The contemplation of the Beautiful -awakens no such craving; it is self-sufficing, -and is not accompanied by any return -of the me upon itself. It suffers the -object to preserve its independence for its -own sake. The soul experiences something -analogous to divine felicity; it is -transported into a sphere foreign to the -miseries of life and terrestrial existence.</p> - -<p class='c006'>This theory, it is apparent, would need -only to be developed to return wholly to the -Platonic theory. Hegel limits himself to -referring to it. We recognize here, also, -the results of the Kantian analysis.</p> - -<p class='c006'>II. <i>Of the Beautiful in Nature.</i></p> - -<p class='c006'>Although science cannot pause to describe -the beauties of nature, it ought, -nevertheless, to study, in a general manner, -the characteristics of the Beautiful, -as it appears to us in the physical world -and in the beings which it contains. This is -the subject of a somewhat extended chapter, -with the following title: <i>Of the Beautiful -in Nature</i>. Hegel herein considers -the question from the particular point of -<span class='pageno' id='Page_43'>43</span>view of his philosophy, and he applies his -theory of the <i>Idea</i>. Nevertheless, the results -at which he arrives, and the manner -in which he describes the forms of physical -beauty, can be comprehended and accepted -independently of his system, little adapted, -it must be confessed, to cast light upon -this subject.</p> - -<p class='c006'>The Beautiful in nature is the first manifestation -of the Idea. The successive degrees -of beauty correspond to the development -of life and organization in beings. -Unity is an essential characteristic of it. -Thus, in the mineral, beauty consists in the -arrangement or disposition of the parts, -in the force which resides in them, and -which reveals itself in this unity. The solar -system offers us a more perfect unity -and a higher beauty. The bodies in that -system, while preserving entire their individual -existence, co-ordinate themselves -into a whole, the parts of which are independent, -although attached to a common -centre, the sun. Beauty of this order -strikes us by the regularity of the movements -of the celestial bodies. A unity -more real and true is that which is manifested -in organized and living beings. The -unity here consists in a relation of reciprocity -and of mutual dependence between -the organs, so that each of them -loses its independent existence in order to -give place to a wholly ideal unity which -reveals itself as the principle of life animating -them.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Life is beautiful in nature: for it is essence, -force, the idea realized under its -first form. Nevertheless, beauty in nature -is still wholly external; it has no consciousness -of itself; it is beautiful solely for an -intelligence which sees and contemplates -it.</p> - -<p class='c006'>How do we perceive beauty in natural -beings? Beauty, with living and animate -beings, is neither accidental and capricious -movements, nor simple conformity of those -movements to an end—the uniform and -mutual connection of parts. This point of -view is that of the naturalist, of the man -of science; it is not that of the Beautiful. -Beauty is total form in so far as it reveals -the force which animates it; it is this -force itself, manifested by a totality of -forms, of independent and free movements; -it is the internal harmony which -reveals itself in this secret accord of members, -and which betrays itself outwardly, -without the eye’s pausing to consider the -relation of the parts to the whole, and their -functions or reciprocal connection, as science -does. The unity exhibits itself merely -externally as the principle which binds -the members together. It manifests itself -especially through the sensibility. The -point of view of beauty is then that of pure -contemplation, not that of reflection, -which analyzes, compares and seizes the -connection of parts and their destination.</p> - -<p class='c006'>This internal and visible unity, this accord, -and this harmony, are not distinct -from the material element; they are its -very form. This is the principle which -serves to determine beauty in its inferior -grades, the beauty of the crystal with its -regular forms, forms produced by an internal -and free force. A similar activity -is developed in a more perfect manner in -the living organism, its outlines, the disposition -of its members, the movements, and -the expression of sensibility.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Such is beauty in individual beings. It -is otherwise with it when we consider nature -in its totality, the beauty of a landscape, -for example. There is no longer -question here about an organic disposition -of parts and of the life which animates -them; we have under our eyes a rich multiplicity -of objects which form a whole, -mountains, trees, rivers, etc. In this diversity -there appears an external unity -which interests us by its agreeable or imposing -character. To this aspect there is -added that property of the objects of nature -through which they awaken in us, -sympathetically, certain sentiments, by the -secret analogy which exists between them -and the situations of the human soul.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Such is the effect produced by the silence -of the night, the calm of a still valley, the -sublime aspect of a vast sea in tumult, -and the imposing grandeur of the starry -heavens. The significance of these objects -is not in themselves; they are only symbols -of the sentiments of the soul which -they excite. It is thus we attribute to animals -the qualities which belong only to -<span class='pageno' id='Page_44'>44</span>man, courage, fortitude, cunning. Physical -beauty is a reflex of moral beauty.</p> - -<p class='c006'>To recapitulate, physical beauty, viewed -in its ground or essence, consists in the -manifestation of the concealed principle, -of the force which is developed in the bosom -of matter. This force reveals itself -in a manner more or less perfect, by unity -in inert matter, and in living beings by the -different modes of organization.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Hegel then devotes a special examination -to the external side, or to beauty of form -in natural objects. Physical beauty, considered -externally, presents itself successively -under the aspects of <i>regularity</i> and -<i>symmetry</i>, of <i>conformity</i> to law and of <i>harmony</i>; -lastly, of <i>purity</i> and simplicity of -matter.</p> - -<p class='c006'>1. <i>Regularity</i>, which is only the repetition -of a form equal to itself, is the most -elementary and simple form. In <i>symmetry</i> -there already appears a diversity which -breaks the uniformity. These two forms -of beauty pertain to <i>quantity</i>, and constitute -mathematical beauty; they are found -in organic and inorganic bodies, minerals -and crystals. In plants are presented less -regular, and freer forms. In the organization -of animals, this regular and symmetrical -disposition becomes more and -more subordinated in proportion as we ascend -to higher degrees of the animal scale.</p> - -<p class='c006'>2. <i>Conformity to a law</i> marks a degree -still more elevated, and serves as a transition -to freer forms. Here there appears -an accord more real and more profound, -which begins to transcend mathematical -rigor. It is no longer a simple numerical -relation, where quantity plays the principal -rôle; we discover a relation of quality -between different terms. A law rules -the whole, but it cannot be calculated; -it remains a hidden bond, which -reveals itself to the spectator. Such is -the oval line, and above all, the undulating -line, which Hogarth has given as the line -of beauty. These lines determine, in fact, -the beautiful forms of organic nature in -living beings of a high order, and, above -all, the beautiful forms of the human body, -of man and of woman.</p> - -<p class='c006'>3. <i>Harmony</i> is a degree still superior to -the preceding, and it includes them. It -consists in a totality of elements essentially -distinct, but whose opposition is -destroyed and reduced to unity by a secret -accord, a reciprocal adaptation. Such is -the harmony of forms and colors, that of -sounds and movements, Here the unity is -stronger, more <i>prononcé</i>, precisely because -the differences and the oppositions -are more marked. Harmony, however, is -not as yet true unity, spiritual unity, -that of the soul, although the latter possesses -within it a principle of harmony. -Harmony alone, as yet, reveals neither the -soul nor the spirit, as one may see in music -and dancing.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Beauty exists also in matter itself, -abstraction being made of its form; it -consists, then, in the unity and <i>simplicity</i> -which constitutes <i>purity</i>. Such is the -purity of the sky and of the atmosphere, -the purity of colors and of sounds; that of -certain substances—of precious stones, of -gold, and of the diamond. Pure and simple -colors are also the most agreeable.</p> - -<p class='c006'>After having described the beautiful in -nature, in order that the necessity of a -beauty more exalted and more ideal shall -be comprehended, Hegel sets forth the <i>imperfections</i> -of real beauty. He begins with -animal life, which is the most elevated -point we have reached, and he dwells upon -the characteristics and causes of that imperfection.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Thus, first in the animal, although the -organism is more perfect than that of the -plant, what we see is not the central point -of life; the special seat of the operations -of the force which animates the whole, remains -concealed from us. We see only -the outlines of the external form, covered -with hairs, scales, feathers, skin; secondly, -the human body, it is true, exhibits -more beautiful proportions, and a more -perfect form, because in it, life and sensibility -are everywhere manifested—in the -color, the flesh, the freer movements, -nobler attitudes, &c. Yet here, besides -the imperfections in details, the sensibility -does not appear equally distributed. -Certain parts are appropriated to animal -functions, and exhibit their destination in -their form. Further, individuals in nature, -placed as they are under a dependence -<span class='pageno' id='Page_45'>45</span>upon external causes, and under the influence -of the elements, are under the -dominion of necessity and want. Under -the continual action of these causes, physical -being is exposed to losing the fulness -of its forms and the flower of its beauty; -rarely do these causes permit it to attain -to its complete, free and regular development. -The human body is placed under a -like dependence upon external agents. If -we pass from the physical to the moral -world, that dependence appears still more -clearly.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Everywhere there is manifested diversity, -and opposition of tendencies and -interests. The individual, in the plenitude -of his life and beauty, cannot preserve -the appearance of a free force. Each -individual being is limited and particularized -in his excellence. His life flows in a -narrow circle of space and time; he belongs -to a determinate species; his type -is given, his form defined, and the conditions -of his development fixed. The human -body itself offers, in respect to beauty, -a progression of forms dependent on the -diversity of races. Then come hereditary -qualities, the peculiarities which are due -to temperament, profession, age, and sex. -All these causes alter and disfigure the -purest and most perfect primitive type.</p> - -<p class='c006'>All these imperfections are summed up -in a word: the finite. Human life and -animal life realize their idea only imperfectly. -Moreover, spirit—not being able -to find, in the limits of the real, the sight -and the enjoyment of its proper freedom—seeks -to satisfy itself in a region more elevated, -that of <i>art</i>, or of the ideal.</p> - -<p class='c006'>III. <i>Of the beautiful in Art or of the Ideal.</i></p> - -<p class='c006'>Art has as its end and aim the representation -of the ideal. Now what is the -<i>ideal</i>? It is beauty in a degree of perfection -superior to real beauty. It is force, -life, spirit, the essence of things, developing -themselves harmoniously in a sensuous -reality, which is its resplendent image, -its faithful expression; it is beauty disengaged -and purified from the accidents -which veil and disfigure it, and which alter -its purity in the real world.</p> - -<p class='c006'>The ideal, in art, is not then the contrary -of the real, but the real idealized, -purified, rendered conformable to its -idea, and perfectly expressing it. In a -word, it is the perfect accord of the idea -and the sensuous form.</p> - -<p class='c006'>On the other hand, the true ideal is not -life in its inferior degrees—blind, undeveloped -force—but the soul arrived at the -consciousness of itself, free, and in the -full enjoyment of its faculties; it is life, -but spiritual life—in a word, spirit. The -representation of the spiritual principle, in -the plenitude of its life and freedom, with -its high conceptions, its profound and noble -sentiments, its joys and its sufferings: -this is the true aim of art, the true ideal.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Finally, the ideal is not a lifeless abstraction, -a frigid generality; it is the -spiritual principle under the form of the -living individual, freed from the bonds of -the finite, and developing itself in its perfect -harmony with its inmost nature and -essence.</p> - -<p class='c006'>We see, thus, what are the characteristics -of the ideal. It is evident that in all -its degrees it is calmness, serenity, felicity, -happy existence, freed from the miseries -and wants of life. This serenity -does not exclude earnestness; for the ideal -appears in the midst of the conflicts of -life; but even in the roughest experiences, -in the midst of intense suffering, the soul -preserves an evident calmness as a fundamental -trait. It is felicity in suffering, -the glorification of sorrow, smiling in -tears. The echo of this felicity resounds -in all the spheres of the ideal.</p> - -<p class='c006'>It is important to determine, with still -more precision, the relations of the <i>ideal</i> -and the <i>real</i>.</p> - -<p class='c006'>The opposition of the ideal and the real -has given rise to two conflicting opinions. -Some conceive of the ideal as something -vague, an abstract, lifeless generality, -without individuality. Others extol the -natural, the imitation of the real in the -most minute and prosaic details. Equal -exaggeration! The truth lies between the -two extremes.</p> - -<p class='c006'>In the first place, the ideal may be, in -fact, something external and accidental, -an insignificant form or appearance, a -common existence. But that which constitutes -<span class='pageno' id='Page_46'>46</span>the ideal, in this inferior degree, -is the fact that this reality, imitated by -art, is a creation of spirit, and becomes -then something artificial, not real. It is -an image and a metamorphosis. This -image, moreover, is more permanent than -its model, more durable than the real object. -In fixing that which is mobile and -transient, in eternizing that which is momentary -and fugitive—a flower, a smile—art -surpasses nature and idealizes it.</p> - -<p class='c006'>But it does not stop here. Instead of -simply reproducing these objects, while -preserving their natural form, it seizes -their internal and deepest character, it -extends their signification, and gives to -them a more elevated and more general -significance; for it must manifest the universal -in the individual, and render visible -the idea which they represent, their eternal -and fixed type. It allows this character -of generality to penetrate everywhere, -without reducing it to an abstraction. -Thus the artist does not slavishly reproduce -all the features of the object, and its -accidents, but only the true traits, those -conformable to its idea. If, then, he takes -nature as a model, he still surpasses and -idealizes it. Naturalness, faithfulness, -truth, these are not exact imitation, but -the perfect conformity of the form to the -idea; they are the creation of a more -perfect form, whose essential traits represent -the idea more faithfully and more -clearly than it is expressed in nature itself. -To know how to disengage the operative, -energetic, essential and significant elements -in objects,—this is the task of the -artist. The ideal, then, is not the real; the -latter contains many elements insignificant, -useless, confused and foreign, or opposed -to the idea. The natural here loses -its vulgar significance. By this word must -be understood the more exalted expression -of spirit. The ideal is a transfigured, glorified -nature.</p> - -<p class='c006'>As to vulgar and common nature, if art -takes it also for its object, it is not for its -own sake, but because of what in it is -true, excellent, interesting, ingenuous or -gay, as in <i>genre</i> painting, in Dutch painting -particularly. It occupies, nevertheless, -an inferior rank, and cannot make -pretensions to a place beside the grand -compositions of art.</p> - -<p class='c006'>But there are other subjects—a nature -more elevated and more ideal. Art, at its -culminating stage, represents the development -of the internal powers of the soul, -its grand passions, profound sentiments, -and lofty destinies. Now, it is clear that -the artist does not find in the real world, -forms so pure and ideal that he may safely -confine himself to imitating and copying. -Moreover, if the form itself be given, expression -must be added. Besides, he -ought to secure, in a just measure, the -union of the individual and the universal, -of the form and the idea; to create a -living ideal, penetrated with the idea, and -in which it animates the sensuous form -and appearance throughout, so that there -shall be nothing in it empty or insignificant, -nothing that is not alive with expression -itself. Where shall he find in -the real world, this just measure, this -animation, and this exact correspondence -of all the parts and of all the details conspiring -to the same end, to the same effect? -To say that he will succeed in conceiving -and realizing the ideal, by making a felicitous -selection of ideas and forms, is to -ignore the secret of artistic composition; -it is to misconceive the entirely spontaneous -method of genius,—inspiration which -creates at a single effort,—to replace it by a -reflective drudgery, which only results in -the production of frigid and lifeless -works.</p> - -<p class='c006'>It does not suffice to define the ideal in -an abstract manner; the ideal is exhibited -to us in the works of art under very various -and diverse forms. Thus sculpture -represents it under the motionless features -of its figures. In the other arts it assumes -the form of movement and of action; in -poetry, particularly, it manifests itself in -the midst of most varied situations and -events, of conflicts between persons animated -by diverse passions. How, and -under what conditions, is each art in particular -called upon to represent thus the -ideal? This will be the object of the -theory of the arts. In the general exposition -of the principles of art, we may, -nevertheless, attempt to define the degrees -<span class='pageno' id='Page_47'>47</span>of this development, to study the principal -aspects under which it manifests itself. -Such is the object of those considerations, -the title of which is, <i>Of -the Determination of the Ideal</i>, and -which the author develops in this first -part of the work. We can trace only -summarily the principal ideas, devoting -ourselves to marking their order and connection.</p> - -<p class='c006'>The gradation which the author establishes -between the progressively determined -forms of the ideal is as follows:</p> - -<p class='c006'>1. The ideal, under the most elevated -form, is the divine idea, the divine such -as the imagination can represent it under -sensuous forms; such is the Greek ideal -of the divinities of Polytheism; such the -Christian ideal in its highest purity, under -the form of God the Father, of Christ, of -the Virgin, of the Apostles, etc. It is -given above all to sculpture and painting, -to present us the image of it. Its essential -characteristics are calmness, majesty, -serenity.</p> - -<p class='c006'>2. In a degree less elevated, but more -determined, in the circle of human life, -the ideal appears to us, with man, as the -victory of the eternal principles which fill -the human heart, the triumph of the noble -part of the soul over the inferior and -passionate. The noble, the excellent, -the perfect, in the human soul, is the -moral and divine principle which is manifested -in it, which governs its will, and -causes it to accomplish grand actions; -this is the true source of self-sacrifice and -of heroism.</p> - -<p class='c006'>3. But the idea, when it is manifested -in the real world, can be developed only -under the form of <i>action</i>. Now, action -itself has for its condition a conflict between -principles and persons, divided as -to interests, ideas, passions, and characters. -It is this especially that is represented -by poetry—the art <i>par excellence</i>, -the only art which can reproduce an action -in its successive phases, with its complications, -its sudden turns of fortune, its -catastrophe and its denouement.</p> - -<p class='c006'><i>Action</i>, if one considers it more closely, -includes the following conditions: 1st. A -world which serves it as a basis and theatre, -<i>a form of society</i> which renders it possible, -and is favorable to the development -of ideal figures. 2d. A determinate situation, -in which the personages are placed -who render necessary the conflict between -opposing interests and passions, whence -a collision may arise. 3d. An action, properly -so called, which develops itself in -its essential moments, which has a beginning, -a middle, and an end. This action, -in order to afford a high interest, should -revolve upon ideas of an elevated order, -which inspire and sustain the personages, -ennobling their passions, and forming the -basis of their character.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Hegel treats, in a general manner, each -of these points, which will appear anew, -under a more special form, in the study of -poetry, and particularly of epic and dramatic -poetry.</p> - -<p class='c006'>1. The state of society most favorable -to the ideal is that which allows the characters -to act with most freedom, to reveal -a lofty and powerful personality. This -cannot be a social order, where all is fixed -and regulated by laws and a constitution. -Nor can it be the savage state, where all -is subject to caprice and violence, and -where man is dependent upon a thousand -external causes, which render his existence -precarious. Now the state intermediate -between the barbarous state and an advanced -civilization, is the <i>heroic age</i>, that -in which the epic poets locate their action, -and from which the tragic poets themselves -have often borrowed their subjects -and their personages. That which characterizes -heroes in this epoch is, above all, -the independence which is manifested in -their characters and acts. On the other -hand, the hero is all of a piece; he assumes -not only the responsibility of his -acts and their consequences, but the results -of actions he has not perpetrated, -of the faults or crimes of his race; he -bears in his person an entire race.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Another reason why the ideal existences -of art belong to the mythologic ages, and -to remote epochs of history, is that the -artist or the poet, in representing or recounting -events, has a freer scope in his -ideal creations. Art, also, for the same -reason, has a predilection for the higher -<span class='pageno' id='Page_48'>48</span>conditions of society, those of princes particularly, -because of the perfect independence -of will and action which characterizes -them. In this respect, our actual -society, with its civil and political organization, -its manners, administration, police, -etc., is prosaic. The sphere of activity of -the individual is too restricted; he encounters -everywhere limits and shackles -to his will. Our monarchs themselves are -subject to these conditions; their power is -limited by institutions, laws and customs. -War, peace, and treaties are determined -by political relations independent of their -will.</p> - -<p class='c006'>The greatest poets have not been able -to escape these conditions; and when they -have desired to represent personages -nearer to us, as Charles Moor, or Wallenstein, -they have been obliged to place -them in revolt against society or against -their sovereign. Moreover, these heroes -rush on to an inevitable ruin, or they fall -into the ridiculous situation, of which the -Don Quixote of Cervantes gives us the -most striking example.</p> - -<p class='c006'>2. To represent the ideal in personages -or in an action, there is necessary not only -a favorable world from which the subject -is to be borrowed, but a situation. This -situation can be either indeterminate, like -that of many of the immobile personages -of antique or religious sculpture, or determinate, -but yet of little earnestness. -Such are also the greater number of the -situations of the personages of antique -sculpture. Finally, it may be earnest, and -furnish material for a veritable action. It -supposes, then, an opposition, an action and -a reaction, a conflict, a collision. The -beauty of the ideal consists in absolute -serenity and perfection. Now, collision -destroys this harmony. The problem of -art consists, then, in so managing that the -harmony reappears in the denouement. Poetry -alone is capable of developing this opposition -upon which the interest, particularly, -of tragic art turns.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Without examining here the nature of -the different <i>collisions</i>, the study of which -belongs to the theory of dramatic art, we -must already have remarked that the collisions -of the highest order are those in -which the conflict takes place between -moral forces, as in the ancient tragedies. -This is the subject of true classic tragedy, -moral as well as religious, as will be seen -from what follows.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Thus the ideal, in this superior degree, -is the manifestation of moral powers and -of the ideas of spirit, of the grand movements -of the soul, and of the characters -which appear and are revealed in the development -of the representation.</p> - -<p class='c006'>3. In <i>action</i>, properly so-called, three -things are to be considered which constitute -its ideal object: 1. The general interests, -the ideas, the universal principles, -whose opposition forms the very foundation -of the action; 2. The personages; 3. Their -character and their passions, or the motives -which impel them to act.</p> - -<p class='c006'>In the first place, the eternal principles -of religion, of morality, of the family, of -the state—the grand sentiments of the -soul, love, honor, etc.—these constitute the -basis, the true interest of the action. -These are the grand and true motives of -art, the eternal theme of exalted poetry.</p> - -<p class='c006'>To these legitimate and true powers others -are, without doubt, added; the powers -of evil; but they ought not to be represented -as forming the real foundation and -end of the action. “If the idea, the end -and aim, be something false in itself, the -hideousness of the ground will allow still -less beauty of form. The sophistry of the -passions may, indeed, by a true picture, -attempt to represent the false under the -colors of the true, but it places under our -eyes only a whited sepulchre. Cruelty and -the violent employment of force can be endured -in representation, but only when -they are relieved by the grandeur of the -character and ennobled by the aim which -is pursued by the <i>dramatis personæ</i>. Perversity, -envy, cowardice, baseness, are only -repulsive.</p> - -<p class='c006'>“Evil, in itself, is stripped of real interest, -because nothing but the false can -spring from what is false; it produces only -misfortune, while art should present to -us order and harmony. The great artists, -the great poets of antiquity, never give us -the spectacle of pure wickedness and perversity.”</p> - -<p class='c006'><span class='pageno' id='Page_49'>49</span>We cite this passage because it exhibits -the character and high moral tone which -prevails in the entire work, as we shall -have occasion to observe more than once -hereafter.</p> - -<p class='c006'>If the ideas and interests of human life -form the ground of the action, the latter is -accomplished by the characters upon whom -the interest is fastened. General ideas -may, indeed, be personated by beings superior -to man, by certain divinities like -those which figure in ancient epic poetry -and tragedy. But it is to man that action, -properly so-called, returns; it is he who -occupies the scene. Now, how reconcile -divine action and human action, the will -of the gods and that of man? Such is the -problem which has made shipwreck of so -many poets and artists. To maintain a -proper equipoise it is necessary that the -gods have supreme direction, and that man -preserve his freedom and his independence -without which he is no more than the passive -instrument of the will of the gods; fatality -weighs upon all his acts. The true -solution consists in maintaining the identity -of the two terms, in spite of their difference; -in so acting that what is attributed -to the gods shall appear at the same time -to emanate from the inner nature of the -<i>dramatis personæ</i> and from their character. -The talent of the artist must reconcile the -two aspects. “The heart of man must be -revealed in his gods, personifications of -the grand motives which allure him and -govern him within.” This is the problem -resolved by the great poets of antiquity, -Homer, Æschylus, and Sophocles.</p> - -<p class='c006'>The general principles, those grand motives -which are the basis of the action, by -the fact that they are living in the soul of -the characters, form, also, the very ground -of the <i>passions</i>; this is the essence of true -pathos. Passion, here, in the elevated ideal -sense, is, in fact, not an arbitrary, capricious, -irregular movement of the soul; it is -a noble principle, which blends itself with -a great idea, with one of the eternal verities -of moral or religious order. Such is -the passion of Antigone, the holy love for -her brother; such, the vengeance of Orestes. -It is an essentially legitimate power of the -soul which contains one of the eternal -principles of the reason and the will. This -is still the ideal, the true ideal, although it -appears under the form of a passion. It -relieves, ennobles and purifies it; it thus -gives to the action a serious and profound -interest.</p> - -<p class='c006'>It is in this sense that passion constitutes -the centre and true domain of art; it -is the principle of emotion, the source of -true pathos.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Now, this moral verity, this eternal -principle which descends into the heart of -man and there takes the form of great and -noble passion, identifying itself with the -will of the <i>dramatis personæ</i>, constitutes, -also, their character. Without this high -idea which serves as support and as basis -to passion, there is no true character. -Character is the culminating point of ideal -representation. It is the embodiment of -all that precedes. It is in the creation -of the characters, that the genius of the artist -or of the poet is displayed.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Three principal elements must be united -to form the ideal character, <i>richness</i>, <i>vitality</i>, -and <i>stability</i>. Richness consists in not -being limited to a single quality, which -would make of the person an abstraction, -an allegoric being. To a single dominant -quality there should be added all those -which make of the personage or hero -a real and complete man, capable of being -developed in diverse situations and -under varying aspects. Such a multiplicity -alone can give vitality to the character. -This is not sufficient, however; it is necessary -that the qualities be moulded together -in such a manner as to form not a simple -assemblage and a complex whole, but one -and the same individual, having peculiar -and original physiognomy. This is the -case when a particular sentiment, a ruling -passion, presents the salient trait of the -character of a person, and gives to him a -fixed aim, to which all his resolutions and -his acts refer. Unity and variety, simplicity -and completeness of detail, these -are presented to us in the characters of -Sophocles, Shakspeare, and others.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Lastly, what constitutes essentially the -ideal in character is consistency and stability. -An inconsistent, undecided, irresolute -character, is the utter want of character. -<span class='pageno' id='Page_50'>50</span>Contradictions, without doubt, exist in human -nature, but unity should be maintained -in spite of these fluctuations. Something -identical ought to be found throughout, -as a fundamental trait. To be self-determining, -to follow a design, to embrace a -resolution and persist in it, constitute the -very foundation of personality; to suffer -one’s self to be determined by another, to -hesitate, to vacillate, this is to surrender -one’s will, to cease to be one’s self, to lack -character; this is, in all cases, the opposite -of the ideal character.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Hegel on this subject strongly protests -against the characters which figure in modern -pieces and romances, and of which -Werther is the type.</p> - -<p class='c006'>These pretended characters, says he, represent -only unhealthiness of spirit, and -feebleness of soul. Now true and healthy -art does not represent what is false and -sickly, what lacks consistency and decision, -but that which is true, healthy and -strong. The ideal, in a word, is the idea -realized; man can realize it only as a free -person, that is to say, by displaying all -the energy and constancy which can make -it triumph.</p> - -<p class='c006'>We shall find more than once, in the -course of the work, the same ideas developed -with the same force and precision.</p> - -<p class='c006'>That which constitutes the very ground -of the ideal is the inmost essence of things, -especially the lofty conceptions of the -spirit, and the development of the powers -of the soul. These ideas are manifest in -an action in which are placed upon the -scene the grand interests of life, the passions -of the human heart, the will and the -character of actors. But this action is -itself developed in the midst of an external -nature which, moreover, lends to the ideal, -colors and a determinate form. These -external surroundings must also be conceived -and fashioned in the meaning of the -ideal, according to the laws of <i>regularity</i>, -<i>symmetry</i>, and <i>harmony</i>, of which mention -has been made above. How ought man to be -represented in his relations with external -nature? How ought this prose of life to be -idealized? If art, in fact, frees man from -the wants of material life, it cannot, however, -elevate him above the conditions of -human existence, and suppress these connections.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Hegel devotes a special examination to -this new phase of the question of the ideal, -which he designates by this title—<i>Of the -external determination of the ideal</i>.</p> - -<p class='c006'>In our days we have given an exaggerated -importance to this external side, which -we have made the principal object. We -are too unmindful that art should represent -the ideas and sentiments of the human -soul, that this is the true ground of -its works. Hence all these minute descriptions, -this external care given to the -picturesque element or to the local color, -to furniture, to costumes, to all those artificial -means employed to disguise the -emptiness and insignificance of the subject, -the absence of ideas, the falsity of -the situations, the feebleness of the characters, -and the improbability of the -action.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Nevertheless, this side has its place in -art, and should not be neglected. It gives -clearness, truthfulness, life, and interest -to its works, by the secret sympathy which -exists between man and nature. It is -characteristic of the great masters to represent -nature with perfect truthfulness. -Homer is an example of this. Without -forgetting the content for the form, picture -for the frame, he presents to us a -faultless and precise image of the theatre -of action. The arts differ much in this -respect. Sculpture limits itself to certain -symbolic indications; painting, which has -at its disposal means more extended, enriches -with these objects the content of its -pictures. Among the varieties of poetry, the -epic is more circumstantial in its descriptions -than the drama or lyric poetry. But -this external fidelity should not, in any -art, extend to the representation of insignificant -details, to the making of them an -object of predilection, and to subordinating -to them the developments which the -subject itself claims. The grand point in -these descriptions is that we perceive a -secret harmony between man and nature, -between the action and the theatre on -which it occurs.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Another species of accord is established -between man and the objects of physical -<span class='pageno' id='Page_51'>51</span>nature, when, through his free activity, he -impresses upon them his intelligence and -will, and appropriates them to his own -use; the ideal consists in causing misery -and necessity to disappear from the domain -of art, in revealing the freedom -which develops itself without effort under -our eyes, and easily surmounts obstacles.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Such is the ideal considered under this -aspect. Thus the gods of polytheism -themselves have garments and arms; they -drink nectar and are nourished by ambrosia. -The garment is an ornament designed -to heighten the glory of the features, to -give nobleness to the countenance, to facilitate -movement, or to indicate force and -agility. The most brilliant objects, the -metals, precious stones, purple and ivory, -are employed for the same end. All concur -to produce the effect of grace and -beauty.</p> - -<p class='c006'>In the satisfaction of physical wants the -ideal consists, above all, in the simplicity -of the means. Instead of being artificial, -factitious, complex, the latter emanate -directly from the activity of man, and freedom. -The heroes of Homer themselves -slay the oxen which are to serve for the -feast, and roast them; they forge their -arms, and prepare their couches. This is -not, as one might think, a relic of barbarous -manners, something prosaic; but we -see, penetrating everywhere the delight of -invention, the pleasure of easy toil and -free activity exercised on material objects. -Everything is peculiar to and inherent in -his character, and a means for the hero -of revealing the force of his arm and the -skill of his hand; while, in civilized society, -these objects depend on a thousand -foreign causes, on a complex adjustment -in which man is converted into a machine -subordinated to other machines. Things -have lost their freshness and vitality; -they remain inanimate, and are no longer -proper, direct creations of the human person, -in which the man loves to solace and -contemplate himself.</p> - -<p class='c006'>A final point relative to the external -<i>form of the ideal</i> is that which concerns -the <i>relation of works of art to the public</i>, -that is to say, to the nation and epoch for -which the artist or the poet composes his -works. Ought the artist, when he treats a -subject, to consult, above all, the spirit, -taste and manners of the people whom he -addresses, and conform himself to their -ideas? This is the means of exciting interest -in fabulous and imaginary or even -historic persons. But then there is a liability -to distort history and tradition.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Ought he, on the other hand, to reproduce -with scrupulous exactness the manners -and customs of another time, to give -to the facts and the characters their proper -coloring and their original and primitive -costume? This is the problem. Hence -arise two schools and two opposite modes -of representation. In the age of Louis -XIV., for example, the Greeks and Romans -are conceived in the likeness of Frenchmen. -Since then, by a natural reaction, -the contrary tendency has prevailed. Today -the poet must have the knowledge of -an archeologist, and possess his scrupulous -exactness, and pay close attention, -above all, to local color, and historic verity -has become the principal and essential -aim of art.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Truth here, as always, lies between the -two extremes. It is necessary to maintain, -at the same time, the rights of art and -these of the public, to have a proper regard -for the spirit of the epoch, and to -satisfy the exigencies of the subject -treated. These are the very judicious -rules which the author states upon this -delicate point.</p> - -<p class='c006'>The subject should be intelligible and -interesting to the public to which it is addressed. -But this end the poet or the -artist will attain only so far as, by his -general spirit, his work responds to some -one of the essential ideas of the human -spirit and to the general interests of humanity. -The particularities of an epoch -are not of true and enduring interest -to us.</p> - -<p class='c006'>If, then, the subject is borrowed from remote -epochs of history, or from some far-off -tradition, it is necessary that, by our -general culture, we should be familiarized -with it. It is thus only that we can sympathize -with an epoch and with manners -that are no more. Hence the two essential -conditions; that the subject present -<span class='pageno' id='Page_52'>52</span>the general human character, then that it -be in relation with our ideas.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Art is not designed for a small number -of scholars and men of science; it is addressed -to the entire nation. Its works -should be comprehended and relished of -themselves, and not after a course of difficult -research. Thus national subjects are -the most favorable. All great poems are -national poems. The Bible histories have -for us a particular charm, because we are -familiar with them from our infancy. Nevertheless, -in the measure that relations are -multiplied between peoples, art can borrow -its subjects from all latitudes and from -all epochs. It should, indeed, as to the -principal features, preserve, to the traditions, -events, and personages, to manners -and institutions, their historic or traditional -character; but the duty of the artist, -above all, is to place the idea which constitutes -its content in harmony with the -spirit of his own age, and the peculiar -genius of his nation.</p> - -<p class='c006'>In this necessity lies the reason and excuse -for what is called anachronism in art. -When the anachronism bears only upon -external circumstances it is unimportant. -It becomes a matter of more moment if -we attribute to the characters, the ideas, -and sentiments of another epoch. Respect -must be paid to historic truth, but -regard must also be had to the manners -and intellectual culture of one’s own time. -The heroes of Homer themselves are more -than were the real personages of the epoch -which he presents; and the characters of -Sophocles are brought still nearer to us. -To violate thus the rules of historic reality, -is a necessary anachronism in art. Finally, -another form of anachronism, which -the utmost moderation and genius can -alone make pardonable, is that which -transfers the religious or moral ideas of a -more advanced civilization to an anterior -epoch; when one attributes, for example, -to the ancients the ideas of the moderns. -Some great poets have ventured upon -this intentionally; few have been successful -in it.</p> - -<p class='c006'>The general conclusion is this: “The -artist should be required to make himself -the cotemporary of past ages, and become -penetrated himself with their spirit. For if -the substance of those ideas be true, it remains -clear for all time. But to undertake -to reproduce with a scrupulous exactness -the external element of history, with all its -details and particulars,—in a word, all the -rust of antiquity, is the work of a puerile -erudition, which attaches itself only to a -superficial aim. We should not wrest from -art the right which it has to float between -reality and fiction.”</p> - -<p class='c006'>This first part concludes with an examination -of the qualities necessary to an -artist, such as imagination, genius, inspiration, -originality, etc. The author does -not deem it obligatory to treat at much -length this subject, which appears to him -to allow only a small number of general -rules or psychological observations. The -manner in which he treats of many points, -and particularly of the imagination, causes -us to regret that he has not thought it -worth while to give a larger space to these -questions, which occupy the principal -place in the majority of æsthetical treatises; -we shall find them again under another -form in the theory of the arts.</p> - -<p class='c006'>[The next number will continue this translation -through the treatment of the Symbolic, -Classic, and Romantic forms of art.]</p> -<div> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_53'>53</span> - <h3 class='c001'>NOTES ON RAPHAEL’S “TRANSFIGURATION.”</h3> -</div> -<p class='c005'>[Read before the St. Louis Art Society in November, 1866.]</p> -<h4 class='c012'>I. <span class='fss'>THE ENGRAVING.</span></h4> -<p class='c005'>He who studies the “Transfiguration” -of Raphael is fortunate if he has access to -the engraving of it by Raphael Morghen. -This engraver, as one learns from the Encyclopædia, -was a Florentine, and executed -this—his most elaborate work—in 1795, -from a drawing of Tofanelli, after having -discovered that a copy he had partly finished -from another drawing, was very inadequate -when compared with the original.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Upon comparison with engravings by -other artists, it seems to me that this engraving -has not received all the praise it -deserves; I refer especially to the seizing of -the “motives” of the picture, which are so -essential in a work of great scope, to give it -the requisite unity. What the engraver has -achieved in the present instance, I hope to -be able to show in some degree. But one -will not be able to verify my results if he -takes up an engraving by a less fortunate -artist; e.g.: one by Pavoni, of recent -origin.</p> -<h4 class='c012'>II. <span class='fss'>HISTORICAL.</span></h4> -<p class='c005'>It is currently reported that Raphael -painted the “Transfiguration” at the instance -of Cardinal Giulio de Medici, and -that in honor of the latter he introduced -the two saints—Julian and Lawrence—on -the mount; St. Julian suggesting the ill-fated -Giuliano de Medici, the Cardinal’s -father, and St. Lawrence representing his -uncle, “Lorenzo the Magnificent,” the -greatest of the Medici line, and greatest -man of his time in Italy. “The haughty -Michael Angelo refused to enter the lists -in person against Raphael, but put forward -as a fitting rival Sebastian del Piombo, a -Venetian.” Raphael painted, as his masterpiece, -the “Transfiguration,” and Sebastian, -with the help of Michael Angelo, -painted the “Raising of Lazarus.” In -1520, before the picture was quite finished, -Raphael died. His favorite disciple, Giulio -Romano, finished the lower part of the -picture (especially the demoniac) in the -spirit of Raphael, who had completed the -upper portion and most of the lower.</p> -<h4 class='c012'>III. <span class='fss'>LEGEND.</span></h4> -<p class='c005'>The Legend portrayed here—slightly varying -from the one in the New Testament, -but not contradicting it—is as follows: -Christ goes out with his twelve disciples to -Mount Tabor,(?) and, leaving the nine -others at the foot, ascends with the favored -three to the summit, where the scene of -the Transfiguration takes place. While -this transpires, the family group approach -with the demoniac, seeking help from a -miraculous source.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Raphael has added to this legend the -circumstance that two sympathetic strangers, -passing that way up the mount, carry -to the Beatified One the intelligence of the -event below, and solicit his immediate and -gracious interference.</p> - -<p class='c006'>The Testament account leads us to suppose -the scene to be Mount Tabor, southeast -of Nazareth, at whose base he had -healed many, a few days before, and -where he had held many conversations -with his disciples. “On the following -day, when they were come down, they met -the family,” says Luke; but Matthew and -Mark do not fix so precisely the day.</p> -<h4 class='c012'>IV. <span class='fss'>CHARACTERIZATION.</span></h4> -<p class='c005'>It may be safely affirmed that there is -scarcely a picture in existence in which -the individualities are more strongly marked -by internal essential characteristics.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Above, there is no figure to be mistaken: -Christ floats toward the source of light—the -Invisible Father, by whom <i>all</i> is made -visible that is visible. On the right, Moses -appears in strong contrast to Elias on the -left—the former the law-giver, and the -latter the spontaneous, fiery, eagle-eyed -prophet.</p> - -<p class='c006'>On the mountain top—prostrate beneath, -are the three disciples—one recognizes on -the right hand, John, gracefully bending -his face down from the overpowering light, -while on the left James buries his face in -<span class='pageno' id='Page_54'>54</span>his humility. But Peter, the bold one, is -fain to gaze directly on the splendor. He -turns his face up in the act, but is, as on -another occasion, mistaken in his estimate -of his own endurance, and is obliged to -cover his eyes, involuntarily, with his hand.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Below the mount, are two opposed groups. -On the right, coming from the hamlet in -the distance, is the family group, of which -a demoniac boy forms the centre. They, -without doubt, saw Christ pass on his way -to this solitude, and, at length, concluded -to follow him and test his might which had -been “noised abroad” in that region. It -is easy to see the relationship of the whole -group. First the boy, actually “possessed,” -or a maniac; then his father—a man -evidently predisposed to insanity—supporting -and restraining him. Kneeling at the -right of the boy is his mother, whose fair -Grecian face has become haggard with the -trials she has endured from her son. Just -beyond her is her brother, and in the shade -of the mountain, is her father. In the foreground -is her sister. Back of the father, -to the right, is seen an uncle (on the father’s -side) of the demoniac boy, whose -features and gestures show him to be a simpleton, -and near him is seen the face of the -father’s sister, also a weak-minded person. -The parents of the father are not to be -seen, for the obvious reason that old age -is not a characteristic of persons predisposed -to insanity. Again, it is marked -that in a family thus predisposed, some -will be brilliant to a degree resembling genius, -and others will be simpletons. The -whole group at the right are supplicating -the nine disciples, in the most earnest -manner, for relief. The disciples, grouped -on the left, are full of sympathy, but -their looks tell plainly that they can do -nothing. One, at the left and near the -front, holds the books of the Law in his -right hand, but the letter needs the spirit -to give life, and the mere Law of Moses -does not help the demoniac, and only excites -the sorrowful indignation of the -beautiful sister in the foreground.</p> - -<p class='c006'>The curious student of the New Testament -may succeed in identifying the different -disciples: Andrew, holding the books -of the Law, is Peter’s brother, and bears a -family resemblance. Judas, at the extreme -left, cannot be mistaken. Matthew looks -over the shoulder of Bartholomew, who is -pointing to the demoniac; while Thomas—distinguished -by his youthful appearance—bends -over toward the boy with a look of -intense interest. Simon (?), kneeling between -Thomas and Bartholomew, is indicating -to the mother, by the gesture with -his left hand, the absence of the Master. -Philip, whose face is turned towards Judas, -is pointing to the scene on the mount, -and apparently suggesting the propriety of -going for the absent one. James, the son -of Alpheus, resembles Christ in features, -and stands behind Jude, his brother, who -points up to the mount while looking at -the father.</p> -<h4 class='c012'>V. <span class='fss'>ORGANIC UNITY.</span></h4> -<p class='c005'>(<i>a</i>) Doubtless every true work of art -should have what is called an “organic unity.” -That is to say, all the parts of the work -should be related to each other in such a -way that a harmony of design arises. Two -entirely unrelated things brought into the -piece would form two centres of attraction -and hence divide the work into two different -works. It should be so constituted -that the study of one part leads to all the -other parts as being necessarily implied in -it. This common life of the whole work -is the central idea which necessitates all -the parts, and hence makes the work an organism -instead of a mere conglomerate or -mechanical aggregate,—a fortuitous concourse -of atoms which would make a chaos -only.</p> - -<p class='c006'>(<i>b</i>) This central idea, however, cannot -be represented in a work of art without -contrasts, and hence there must be antitheses -present.</p> - -<p class='c006'>(<i>c</i>) And these antitheses must be again -reduced to unity by the manifest dependence -of each side upon the central idea.</p> - -<p class='c006'>What is the central idea of this picture?</p> - -<p class='c006'>(<i>a</i>) Almost every thoughtful person that -has examined it, has said: “Here is the -Divine in contrast with the Human, and -the dependence of the latter upon the -former.” This may be stated in a variety -of ways. The Infinite is there above, and -the Finite here below seeking it.</p> - -<p class='c006'>(<i>b</i>) The grandest antithesis is that between -<span class='pageno' id='Page_55'>55</span>the two parts of the Picture, the -above and the below. The transfigured -Christ, there, dazzling with light; below, the -shadow of mortal life, only illuminated by -such rays as come from above. <i>There</i>, serenity; -and here, rending calamity.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Then there are minor antitheses.</p> - -<p class='c006'>(1) Above we have a Twofold. The -three celestial light-seekers who soar rapturously -to the invisible source of light, -and below them, the three disciples swooning -beneath the power of the celestial vision. -(2) Then below the mountain we -have a similar contrast in the two groups; -the one broken in spirit by the calamity -that “pierces their own souls,” and the -other group powerfully affected by sympathy, -and feeling keenly their impotence -during the absence of their Lord.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Again even, there appear other antitheses. -So completely does the idea penetrate -the material in this work of art, that -everywhere we see the mirror of the whole. -In the highest and most celestial we have -the antithesis of Christ and the twain; -Moses the law or letter, Elias the spirit or -the prophet, and Christ the living unity. -Even Christ himself, though comparatively -the point of repose of the whole picture, -is a contrast of soul striving against the -visible body. So, too, the antitheses of -the three disciples, John, Peter, James,—grace, -strength, and humility. Everywhere -the subject is exhaustively treated; the -family in its different members, the disciples -with the different shades of sympathy -and concern. (The maniac boy is a -perfect picture of a being, torn asunder by -violent internal contradiction.)</p> - -<p class='c006'>(<i>c</i>) The unity is no less remarkable. -First, the absolute unity of the piece, is the -transfigured Christ. To it, mediately or -immediately, everything refers. All the -light in the picture streams thence. All the -action in the piece has its motive power in -Him;—first, the two celestials soar to gaze -in his light; then the three disciples are -expressing, by the posture of every limb, -the intense effect of the same light. On -the left, the mediating strangers stand imploring -Christ to descend and be merciful -to the miserable of this life. Below, the -disciples are painfully reminded of Him -absent, by the present need of his all-healing -power, and their gestures refer to his -stay on the mountain top; while the group -at the right, are frantic in supplications for -his assistance.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Besides the central unity, we find minor -unities that do not contradict the higher -unity, for the reason that they are only reflections -of it, and each one carries us, of -its own accord, to the higher unity, and -loses itself in it. To illustrate: Below, the -immediate unity of all (centre of interest) -is the maniac boy, and yet he convulsively -points to the miraculous scene above, and -the perfect unrest exhibited in his attitude -repels the soul irresistibly to seek another -unity. The Christ above, gives us a comparatively -serene point of repose, while -the unity of the Below or finite side of the -picture is an absolute antagonism, hurling -us beyond to the higher unity.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Before the approach of the distressed -family, the others were intently listening -to the grave and elderly disciple, Andrew, -who was reading and expounding the -Scriptures to them. This was a different -unity, and would have clashed with the -organic unity of the piece; the approach of -the boy brings in a new unity, which immediately -reflects all to the higher unity.</p> -<h4 class='c012'>VI. <span class='fss'>SENSE AND REASON</span> <i>VS.</i> <span class='fss'>UNDERSTANDING</span>.</h4> -<p class='c005'>At this point a few reflections are suggested -to render more obvious, certain -higher phases in the unity of this work of -art, which must now be considered.</p> - -<p class='c006'>A work of art, it will be conceded, must, -first of all, appeal to the senses. Equally, -too, its content must be an idea of the Reason, -and this is not so readily granted by -every one. But if there were no idea of -the Reason in it, there would be no unity -to the work, and it could not be distinguished -from any other work <i>not</i> a work -of art. Between the Reason and the Senses -there lies a broad realm, called the “Understanding” -by modern speculative writers. -It was formerly called the “discursive -intellect.” The Understanding applies -the criterion “<i>use</i>.” It does not know -<i>beauty</i>, or, indeed, anything which is -<i>for itself</i>; it knows only what is good for -something else. In a work of art, after it -<span class='pageno' id='Page_56'>56</span>has asked what it is good for, it proceeds -to construe it all into prose, for it is the -<i>prose faculty</i>. It must have the picture -tell us what is the <i>external fact</i> in nature, -and not trouble us with any transcendental -imaginative products. It wants imitation -of nature merely.</p> - -<p class='c006'>But the artist frequently neglects this -faculty, and shocks it to the uttermost by -such things as the abridged mountain in -this picture, or the shadow cast toward the -sun, that Eckermann tells of.</p> - -<p class='c006'>The artist must never violate the sensuous -harmony, nor fail to have the deeper -unity of the Idea. It is evident that the -sensuous side is always cared for by Raphael.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Here are some of the effects in the picture -that are purely sensuous and yet -of such a kind that they immediately call -up the idea. The source of light in the -picture is Christ’s form; <i>below</i>, it is reflected -in the garments of the conspicuous -figure in the foreground. Above, is Christ; -opposite and below, a female that suggests -the Madonna. In the same manner Elias, -or the inspired prophet, is the opposite to -the maniac boy; the former inspired by the -<i>celestial</i>; the latter, by the <i>demonic</i>. So -Moses, the law-giver, is antithetic to the -old disciple that has the roll of the Law in -his hand. So, too, in the posture, Elias -floats freely, while Moses is brought against -the tree, and mars the impression of free -self-support. The heavy tables of the Law -seem to draw him down, while Elias seems -to have difficulty in descending sufficiently -to place himself in subordination to -Christ.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Even the contradiction that the understanding -finds in the abridgment of the -mountain, is corrected sensuously by the -perspective at the right, and the shade that -the edge of the rock casts which isolates -the above so completely from the below.</p> - -<p class='c006'>We see that Raphael has brought them -to a secluded spot just near the top of the -mountain. The view of the distant vale -tells us as effectually that this is a mountain -top as could be done by a full length -painting of it. Hence the criticism rests -upon a misunderstanding of the fact Raphael -has portrayed.</p> -<h4 class='c012'>VII. <span class='fss'>ROMANTIC</span> <i>vs.</i> <span class='fss'>CLASSIC</span>.</h4> -<p class='c005'>Finally, we must recur to those distinctions -so much talked of, in order to introduce -the consideration of the grandest -strokes of genius which Raphael has displayed -in this work.</p> - -<p class='c006'>The distinction of Classic and Romantic -Art, of Greek Art from Christian: the former -is characterized by a complete repose, or -equilibrium between the Sense and Reason—or -between matter and form. The -idea seems completely expressed, and the -expression completely adequate to the idea.</p> - -<p class='c006'>But in Christian Art we do not find this -equilibrium; but everywhere we find an -intimation that the idea is too transcendent -for the matter to express. Hence, Romantic -Art is self contradictory—it <i>expresses</i> -the <i>inadequacy</i> of <i>expression</i>.</p> - -<div class='lg-container-b c011'> - <div class='linegroup'> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'>“I have that within which passeth show;</div> - <div class='line'>These but the <i>trappings</i> and the <i>suits</i> of woe.”</div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c010'>In Gothic Architecture, all strives upward -and seems to derive its support from -above (i. e. the Spiritual, light). All Romantic -Art points to a <i>beyond</i>. The Madonnas -seem to say: “I am a beyond which -cannot be represented in a sensuous form;” -“a saintly contempt for the flesh hovers -about their features,” as some one has expressed -it.</p> - -<p class='c006'>But in this picture, Christ himself, no -more a child in the Madonna’s arms, but -even in his meridian glory, looks beyond, -and expresses dependence on a Being who -is not and cannot be represented. His face -is serene, beatific; he is at unity with this -Absolute Being, but the unity is an internal -one, and his upraised gaze towards the -source of light is a plain statement that the -True which supports him is not a sensuous -one. “God dwelleth not in temples made -with hands; but those who would approach -Him must do it in <i>spirit</i> and in -<i>truth</i>.”</p> - -<p class='c006'>This is the idea which belongs to the -method of all modern Art; but Raphael -has not left this as the general spirit of -the picture merely, but has emphasized it -in a way that exhibits the happy temper of -his genius in dealing with refractory subjects. -And this last point has proved too -much for his critics. Reference is made -<span class='pageno' id='Page_57'>57</span>to the two saints painted at the left. How -fine it would be, thought the Cardinal de -Medici, to have St. Lawrence and St. Julian -painted in there, to commemorate my -father and uncle! They can represent -mediators, and thereby connect the two -parts of the picture more closely!</p> - -<p class='c006'>Of course, Raphael put them in there! -“Alas!” say his critics, “what a fatal mistake! -What have those two figures to -do there but to mar the work! All for -the gratification of a selfish pride!”</p> - -<p class='c006'>Always trust an Artist to dispose of the -Finite; he, of all men, knows how to digest -it and subordinate it to the idea.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Raphael wanted just such figures in just -that place. Of course, the most natural -thing in the world that could happen, would -be the ascent of some one to bear the message -to Christ that there was need of him -below. But what is the effect of that upon -the work as a piece of Romantic Art? It -would destroy that characteristic, if permitted -in certain forms. Raphael, however, -seizes upon this incident to show the -entire spiritual character of the upper part -of the picture. The disciples are dazzled -so, that even the firm Peter cannot endure -the light at all. Is this a physical light? -Look at the messengers that have come up -the mountain! Do their eyes indicate anything -bright, not to say dazzling? They -stand there with supplicating looks and -gestures, but see no transfiguration. It -must be confessed, Cardinal de Medici, -that your uncle and father are not much -complimented, after all; they are merely -natural men, and have no inner sense by -which to see the Eternal Verities that illume -the mystery of existence! Even if -you are Cardinal, and they were Popes’ -counselors, they never saw anything higher -in Religion than what should add comfort -to us here below!</p> - -<p class='c006'>No! The transfiguration, as Raphael -clearly tells us, was a Spiritual one: Christ, -on the mountain with his favored three -disciples, opened up such celestial clearness -in his exposition of the truth, that -they saw Moses and Elias, as it were, combined -in one Person, and a new Heaven -and a new Earth arose before them, and -they were lost in that revelation of infinite -splendor.</p> - -<p class='c006'>In closing, a remark forces itself upon -us with reference to the comparative merits -of Raphael and Michael Angelo.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Raphael is the perfection of Romantic -Art. Michael Angelo is almost a Greek. -His paintings all seem to be pictures of -statuary. In his grandest—The Last Judgment—we -have the visible presence as the -highest. Art with him could represent the -Absolute. With Raphael it could only, in -its loftiest flights, express its own impotence.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Whether we are to consider Raphael or -Michael Angelo as the higher artist, must -be decided by an investigation of the merits -of the “Last Judgment.”</p> -<h3 class='c001'>INTRODUCTION TO PHILOSOPHY. <br /> CHAPTER I.</h3> -<p class='c005'>The object of this series is to furnish, -in as popular a form as possible, a course -of discipline for those who are beginning -the study of philosophy. Strictly <i>popular</i>, -in the sense the word is used—i. e. signifying -that which holds fast to the ordinary -consciousness of men, and does not -take flights beyond—I am well aware, no -philosophy can be. The nearest approach -to it that can be made, consists in starting -from the common external views, and -drawing them into the speculative, step by -step. For this purpose the method of definitions -and axioms, with deductions therefrom, -as employed by Spinoza, is more appropriate -at first, and afterwards a gradual -approach to the <i>Dialectic</i>, or true philosophic -method. In the mathematical method -(that of Spinoza just alluded to) the content -may be speculative, but its form, -never. Hence the student of philosophy -needs only to turn his attention to the -content at first; when that becomes in a -<span class='pageno' id='Page_58'>58</span>measure familiar, he can then the more -readily pass over to the true form of the -speculative content, and thus achieve complete -insight. A course of discipline in -the speculative content, though under an -inadequate form, would make a grand -preparation for the study of Hegel or -Plato; while a study of these, or, in short, -of any writers who employ speculative -<i>methods</i> in treating speculative <i>content</i>—a -study of these without previous acquaintance -with the content is well nigh -fruitless. One needs only to read the -comments of translators of Plato upon his -speculative passages, or the prevailing -verdicts upon Hegel, to be satisfied on this -point.</p> - -<p class='c006'>The course that I shall here present will -embody my own experience, to a great extent, -in the chronological order of its development. -Each lesson will endeavor to -present an <i>aperçu</i> derived from some great -philosopher. Those coming later will presuppose -the earlier ones, and frequently -throw new light upon them.</p> - -<p class='c006'>As one who undertakes the manufacture -of an elegant piece of furniture needs -carefully elaborated tools for that end, so -must the thinker who wishes to comprehend -the universe be equipped with the -tools of thought, or else he will come off -as poorly as he who should undertake to -make a carved mahogany chair with no -tools except his teeth and finger nails. -What complicated machinery is required -to transmute the rough ores into an American -watch! And yet how common is the -delusion that no elaboration of tools of -thought is required to enable the commonest -mind to manipulate the highest subjects -of investigation. The alchemy that -turned base metal into gold is only a symbol -of that cunning alchemy of thought -that by means of the philosopher’s stone -(scientific method) dissolves the base <i>facts</i> -of experience into universal truths.</p> - -<p class='c006'>The uninitiated regards the philosophic -treatment of a theme as difficult solely by -reason of its technical terms. “If I only -understood your use of words, I think I -should find no difficulty in your thought.” -He supposes that under those bizarre terms -there lurks only the meaning that he and -others put into ordinary phrases. He -does not seem to think that the concepts -likewise are new. It is just as though an -Indian were to say to the carpenter, “I -could make as good work as you, if I only -had the secret of using my finger-nails and -teeth as you do the plane and saw.” Speculative -philosophy—it cannot be too early -inculcated—does <i>not</i> “conceal under cumbrous -terminology views which men ordinarily -hold.” The ordinary reflection would -say that Being is the ground of thought, -while speculative philosophy would say -that thought is the ground of Being; -whether of other being, or of itself as -being—for it is <i>causa sui</i>.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Let us now address ourselves to the task -of elaborating our technique—the tools of -thought—and see what new worlds become -accessible through our mental telescopes -and microscopes, our analytical scalpels -and psychological plummets.</p> -<h4 class='c012'>I.—A PRIORI AND A POSTERIORI.</h4> -<p class='c005'><i>A priori</i>, as applied to knowledge, signifies -that which belongs to the nature of the -mind itself. Knowledge which is before -experience, or not dependent on it, is <i>a -priori</i>.</p> - -<p class='c006'><i>A posteriori</i> or <i>empirical</i> knowledge is -derived from experience.</p> - -<p class='c006'>A criterion to be applied in order to test -the application of these categories to any -knowledge in question, is to be found in -<i>universality</i> and <i>necessity</i>. If the truth expressed -has universal and necessary validity -it must be <i>a priori</i>, for it could not have -been derived from experience. Of empirical -knowledge we can only say: “It is -true so far as experience has extended.” -Of <i>a priori</i> knowledge, on the contrary, we -affirm: “It is universally and necessarily -true and no experience of its opposite can -possibly occur; from the very nature of -things it must be so.”</p> -<h4 class='c012'>II.—ANALYTICAL AND SYNTHETICAL.</h4> -<p class='c005'>A judgment which, in the predicate, -adds nothing new to the subject, is said to -be <i>analytical</i>, as e. g. “Horse is an animal;”—the -concept “animal” is already -contained in that of “horse.”</p> - -<p class='c006'><i>Synthetical</i> judgments, on the contrary, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_59'>59</span>add in the predicate something new to the -conception of the subject, as e. g. “This -rose is red,” or “The shortest distance -between two points is a straight line;”—in -the first judgment we have “red” added -to the general concept “rose;” while in -the second example we have <i>straightness</i>, -which is quality, added to <i>shortest</i>, which -is quantity.</p> -<h4 class='c012'>III.—APODEICTICAL.</h4> -<p class='c005'>Omitting the consideration of <i>a posteriori</i> -knowledge for the present, let us investigate -the <i>a priori</i> in order to learn something -of the constitution of the intelligence -which knows—always a proper subject for -philosophy. Since, moreover, the <i>a priori -analytical</i> (“A horse is an animal”) adds -nothing to our knowledge, we may confine -ourselves, as Kant does, to <i>a priori -synthetical</i> knowledge. The axioms of -mathematics are of this character. They -are universal and necessary in their application, -and we know this without making -a single practical experiment. “Only one -straight line can be drawn between two -points,” or the proposition: “The sum of -the three angles of a triangle is equal to -two right angles,”—these are true in all -possible experiences, and hence transcend -any actual experience. Take any <i>a posteriori</i> -judgment, e. g. “All bodies are -heavy,” and we see at once that it implies -the restriction, “So far as we have -experienced,” or else is a mere analytical -judgment. The <i>universal and necessary</i> is -sometimes called the <i>apodeictical</i>. The -conception of the <i>apodeictical</i> lies at the -basis of all true philosophical thinking. -He who does not distinguish between <i>apodeictic</i> -and <i>contingent</i> judgments must -pause here until he can do so.</p> -<h4 class='c012'>IV. SPACE AND TIME.</h4> -<p class='c005'>In order to give a more exhaustive application -to our technique, let us seek the -universal conditions of experience. The -mathematical truths that we quoted relate -to Space, and similar ones relate to -Time. No experience would be possible -without presupposing Time and Space as -its logical condition. Indeed, we should -never conceive our sensations to have an -origin outside of ourselves and in distinct -objects, unless we had the conception of -Space <i>a priori</i> by which to render it possible. -Instead, therefore, of our being -able to generalize particular experiences, -and collect therefrom the idea of Space -and Time in general, we must have added -the idea of Space and Time to our sensation -before it could possibly become an -experience at all. This becomes more clear -when we recur to the <i>apodeictic</i> nature of -Space and Time. Time and Space are -thought as <i>infinites</i>, i. e. they can only be -limited by themselves, and hence are universally -continuous. But no such conception -as <i>infinite</i> can be derived analytically -from an object of experience, for it does -not contain it. All objects of experience -must be <i>within</i> Time and Space, and not -<i>vice versa</i>. All that is limited in extent -and duration presupposes Time and Space -as its logical condition, and this we know, -not from the senses but from the constitution -of Reason itself. “The third side of a -triangle is less than the sum of the two -other sides.” This we never measured, and -yet we are certain that we cannot be mistaken -about it. It is so in all triangles, -present, past, future, actual, or possible. -If this was an inference <i>a posteriori</i>, we -could only say: “It has been found to be -so in all cases that have been measured -and reported to us.”</p> -<h4 class='c012'>V. MIND.</h4> -<p class='c005'>Mind has a certain <i>a priori</i> constitution; -this is our inference. It must be so, or -else we could never have any experience -whatever. It is the only way in which the -possibility of <i>apodeictic</i> knowledge can be -accounted for. What I do not get from -without I must get from within, if I have -it at all. Mind, it would seem from this, -cannot be, according to its nature, a finite -affair—a thing with properties. Were it -limited in Time or Space, it could never -(without transcending itself) conceive Time -and Space as universally continuous or infinite. -Mind is not within Time and Space, -it is as universal and necessary as the -<i>apodeictic</i> judgments it forms, and hence -it is the substantial essence of all that exists. -Time and Space are the logical conditions -of finite existences, and Mind is -<span class='pageno' id='Page_60'>60</span>the logical condition of Time and Space. -Hence it is ridiculous to speak of <i>my</i> mind -and <i>your</i> mind, for mind is rather the universal -substrate of all individuality than -owned by any particular individual.</p> - -<p class='c006'>These results are so startling to the one -who first begins to think, that he is tempted -to reject the whole. If he does not do -this, but scrutinizes the whole fabric keenly, -he will discover what he supposes to be -fallacies. We cannot anticipate the answer -to his objections here, for his objections -arise from his inability to distinguish -between his imagination and his thinking -and this must be treated of in the next -chapter. Here, we can only interpose an -earnest request to the reader to persevere -and thoroughly refute the whole argument -before he leaves it. But this is only one -and the most elementary position from -which the philosophic traveller sees the -Eternal Verities. Every perfect analysis—no -matter what the subject be—will bring -us to the same result, though the degrees -of concreteness will vary,—some leaving -the solution in an abstract and vague form,—others -again arriving at a complete and -satisfactory view of the matter in detail.</p> -<h3 class='c001'>SEED LIFE. <br /> BY E. V.</h3> -<div class='lg-container-b c013'> - <div class='linegroup'> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'>Ah! woe for the endless stirring,</div> - <div class='line in2'>The hunger for air and light,</div> - <div class='line'>The fire of the blazing noonday</div> - <div class='line in2'>Wrapped round in a chilling night!</div> - </div> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'>The muffled throb of an instinct</div> - <div class='line in2'>That is kin to the mystic To Be;</div> - <div class='line'>Strong muscles, cut with their fetters,</div> - <div class='line in2'>As they writhe with claim to be free.</div> - </div> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'>A voice that cries out in the silence,</div> - <div class='line in2'>And is choked in a stifling air;</div> - <div class='line'>Arms full of an endless reaching,</div> - <div class='line in2'>While the “Nay” stands everywhere.</div> - </div> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'>The burning of conscious selfhood,</div> - <div class='line in2'>That fights with pitiless fate!</div> - <div class='line'>God grant that deliverance stay not,</div> - <div class='line in2'>Till it come at last too late;</div> - </div> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'>Till the crushed out instinct waver,</div> - <div class='line in2'>And fainter and fainter grow,</div> - <div class='line'>And by suicide, through unusing,</div> - <div class='line in2'>Seek freedom from its woe.</div> - </div> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'>Oh! despair of constant losing</div> - <div class='line in2'>The life that is clutched in vain!</div> - <div class='line'>Is it death or a joyous growing</div> - <div class='line in2'>That shall put an end to pain?</div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<div> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_61'>61</span> - <h3 class='c001'>A DIALOGUE ON IMMORTALITY. <br /> BY ARTHUR SCHOPENHAUER. <br /> (Translated from the German, by Chas. L. Bernays.)</h3> -</div> -<p class='c005'><i>Philalethes.</i>—I could tell you that, after -your death, you will be what you were previous -to your birth; I could tell you that -we are never born, and that we only seem -to die—that we have always been precisely -the same that we are now, and that we -shall always remain the same—that <i>Time</i> -is the apparatus which prevents us from -being aware of all this; I could tell you -that our consciousness stands always in -the centre of <i>Time</i>—never on one of its -termini; and that any one among us, -therefore, has the immovable centre of -the whole infinite <i>Time</i> in himself. I then -could tell you that those who, by that -knowledge, are assured that the present -time always originates in ourselves, can -never doubt the indestructibility of their -own essence.</p> - -<p class='c006'><i>Thrasymachus.</i>—All of that is too long -and too ambiguous for me. Tell me, -briefly, what I shall be after death.</p> - -<p class='c006'><i>Phil.</i>—All and nothing.</p> - -<p class='c006'><i>Thras.</i>—There we are! Instead of a solution -to the problem you give me a contradiction; -that is an old trick.</p> - -<p class='c006'><i>Phil.</i>—To answer transcendental questions -in language that is only made for -immanent perceptions, may in fact lead us -into contradictions.</p> - -<p class='c006'><i>Thras.</i>—What do you mean by “transcendental” -and “immanent” perceptions?</p> - -<p class='c006'><i>Phil.</i>—Well! <i>Transcendental</i> perception -is rather the knowledge, which, by exceeding -any possibility of experience, tends to -discover the essence of things as they are -by themselves; <i>immanent</i> perception it is, -if it keeps inside of the limits of experience. -In this case, it can only speak of -appearances. You, as an individual, end -with your death. Yet individuality is not -your true and final essence, but only a -mere appearance of it. It is not the <i>thing -in itself</i>, but only its appearance, established -in the form of time, thereby having -a beginning and an end. That which is essential -in you, knows neither of beginning -nor ending, nor of Time itself; it knows -no limits such as belong to a given individuality, -but exists in all and in each. In -the first sense, therefore, you will become -nothing after your death; in the second -sense, you are and remain all. For that -reason I said you would be all and nothing. -You desired a short answer, and I believe -that hardly a more correct answer could be -given <i>briefly</i>. No wonder, too, that it contains -a contradiction; for your life is in -Time, while your immortality is in Eternity.</p> - -<p class='c006'><i>Thras.</i>—Without the continuation of -my individuality, I would not give a farthing -for all your “immortality.”</p> - -<p class='c006'><i>Phil.</i>—Perhaps you could have it even -cheaper. Suppose that I warrant to you -the continuation of your individuality, but -under the condition that a perfectly unconscious -slumber of death for three -months should precede its resuscitation.</p> - -<p class='c006'><i>Thras.</i>—Well, I accept the condition.</p> - -<p class='c006'><i>Phil.</i>—Now, in an absolutely unconscious -condition, we have no measure of -time; hence it is perfectly indifferent -whether, whilst we lie asleep in death in -the unconscious world, three months or -ten thousand years are passing away. We -do not know either of the one or of the -other, and have to accept some one’s word -with regard to the duration of our sleep, -when we awake. Hence it is indifferent -to you whether your individuality is given -back to you after three months or after -ten thousand years.</p> - -<p class='c006'><i>Thras.</i>—That I cannot deny.</p> - -<p class='c006'><i>Phil.</i>—Now, suppose that after ten -thousand years, one had forgotten to -awake you at all, then I believe that the -long, long state of non-being would become -so habitual to you that your misfortune -could hardly be very great. Certain -it is, any way, that you would know -nothing of it; nay, you would even console -yourself very easily, if you were aware -that the secret mechanism which now keeps -<span class='pageno' id='Page_62'>62</span>your actual appearance in motion, had not -ceased during all the ten thousand years -for a single moment to establish and to -move other beings of the same kind.</p> - -<p class='c006'><i>Thras.</i>—In that manner you mean to -cheat me out of my individuality, do you? -I will not be fooled in that way. I have -bargained for the continuation of my individuality, -and none of your motives can -console me for the loss of that; I have it -at heart, and I never will abandon it.</p> - -<p class='c006'><i>Phil.</i>—It seems that you hold individuality -to be so noble, so perfect, so incomparable, -that there can be nothing superior -to it; you therefore would not like to exchange -it for another one, though in that, -you could live with greater ease and perfection.</p> - -<p class='c006'><i>Thras.</i>—Let my individuality be as it -may, it is always myself. It is I—I myself—who -want to be. That is the individuality -which I insist upon, and not such -a one as needs argument to convince me -that it may be my own or a better one.</p> - -<p class='c006'><i>Phil.</i>—Only look about you! That -which cries out—“I, I myself, wish to exist”—that -is not yourself alone, but all -that has the least vestige of consciousness. -Hence this desire of yours, is just that -which is not individual, but common -rather to all without exception; it does -not originate in individuality, but in the -very nature of existence itself; it is essential -to anybody who lives, nay, it is -that through which it is at all; it seems -to belong only to the individual because -it can become conscious only in the individual. -What cries in us so loud for existence, -does so only through the mediation -of the individual; immediately and -essentially it is the <i>will</i> to exist or to live, -and this <i>will</i> is one and the same in all of -us. Our existence being only the free -work of the will, existence can never fail -to belong to it, as far, at least, as that -eternally dissatisfied will, <i>can</i> be satisfied. -The individualities are indifferent to the -will; it never speaks of them; though it -seems to the individual, who, in himself is -the immediate percipient of it, as if it -spoke only of his own individuality. The -consequence is, that the individual cares -for his own existence with so great -anxiety, and that he thereby secures the -preservation of his kind. Hence it follows -that individuality is no perfection, -but rather a restriction or imperfection; -to get rid of it is not a loss but a gain. -Hence, if you would not appear at once -childish and ridiculous, you should abandon -that care for mere individuality; for -childish and ridiculous it will appear -when you perceive your own essence to be -the universal will to live.</p> - -<p class='c006'><i>Thras.</i>—You yourself and all philosophers -are childish and ridiculous, and in -fact it is only for a momentary diversion -that a man of good common sense ever -consents to squander away an idle hour -with the like of you. I leave your talk for -weightier matters.</p> - -<p class='c006'>[The reader will perceive by the positions -here assumed that Schopenhauer has -a truly speculative stand-point; that he -holds self-determination to be the only -substantial (or abiding) reality. But -while Aristotle and those like him have -seized this more definitely as the self-conscious -thinking, it is evident that -Schopenhauer seizes it only from its immediate -side, i. e. as the <i>will</i>. On this -account he meets with some difficulty in -solving the problem of immortality, and -leaves the question of conscious identity -hereafter, not a little obscure. Hegel, on -the contrary, for whom Schopenhauer -everywhere evinces a hearty contempt, -does not leave the individual in any doubt -as to his destiny, but shows how individuality -and universality coincide in self-consciousness, -so that the desire for eternal -existence is fully satisfied. This is the -legitimate result that <i>Philalethes</i> arrives -at in his last speech, when he makes the -individuality a product of the will; for if -the will is the essential that he holds it to -be, and the product of its activity is individuality, -of course individuality belongs -eternally to it. At the close of his <i>Philosophy -of Nature</i>, (Encyclopædia, vol. II.,) -Hegel shows how death which follows life -in the mere animal—and in man as mere -animal—enters consciousness as one of its -necessary elements, and hence does not -stand opposed to it as it does to animal -life. Conscious being (<i>Spirit</i> or <i>Mind</i> as -it may be called,) is therefore immortal -because it contains already, within itself, -its limits or determinations, and thus cannot, -like finite things, encounter dissolution -through external ones.—<span class='sc'>Ed.</span>]</p> -<div> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_63'>63</span> - <h3 class='c001'>GOETHE’S THEORY OF COLORS. <br /> From an exposition given before the St. Louis Philosophical Society, Nov. 2nd, 1866.</h3> -</div> -<p class='c005'>I.—Color arises through the reciprocal -action of light and darkness.</p> - -<p class='c006'>(<i>a.</i>) When a light object is seen through -a medium that dims it, it appears of different -degrees of yellow; if the medium is -dark or dense, the color is orange, or approaches -red. Examples: the sun seen in -the morning through a slightly hazy atmosphere -appears yellow, but if the air is -thick with mist or smoke the sun looks red.</p> - -<p class='c006'>(<i>b.</i>) On the other hand a dark object, -seen through a medium slightly illuminated, -looks blue. If the medium is very -strongly illuminated, the blue approaches -a light blue; if less so, then indigo; if -still less, the deep violet appears. Examples: -a mountain situated at a great -distance, from which very few rays of light -come, looks blue, because we see it through -a light medium, the air illuminated by the -sun. The sky at high altitudes appears of -a deep violet; at still higher ones, almost -perfectly black; at lower ones, of a faint -blue. Smoke—an illuminated medium—appears -blue against a dark ground, but -yellow or fiery against a light ground.</p> - -<p class='c006'>(<i>c.</i>) The process of bluing steel is a -fine illustration of Goethe’s theory. The -steel is polished so that it reflects light -like a mirror. On placing it in the charcoal -furnace a film of oxydization begins to -form so that the light is reflected through -this dimming medium; this gives a straw -color. Then, as the film thickens, the -color deepens, passing through red to blue -and indigo.</p> - -<p class='c006'>(<i>d.</i>) The prism is the grand instrument -in the experimental field of research into -light. The current theory that light, when -pure, is composed of seven colors, is derived -from supposed actual verifications -with this instrument. The Goethean explanation -is by far the simplest, and, in -the end, it propounds a question which -the Newtonian theory cannot answer without -admitting the truth of Goethe’s theory.</p> - -<p class='c006'>II.—The phenomenon of refraction is -produced by interposing different transparent -media between the luminous object -and the illuminated one, in such a manner -that there arises an apparent displacement -of one of the objects as viewed from the -other. By means of a prism the displacement -is caused to lack uniformity; one -part of the light image is displaced more -than another part; several images, as it -were, being formed with different degrees -of displacement, so that they together -make an image whose edges are -blurred in the line of displacement. If -the displacement were perfectly uniform, -no color would arise, as is demonstrated -by the achromatic prism or lens. The -difference of degrees of refraction causes -the elongation of the image into a spectrum, -and hence a mingling of the edges -of the image with the outlying dark surface -of the wall, (which dark surface is -essential to the production of the ordinary -spectrum). Its <i>rationale</i> is the following:</p> - -<p class='c006'>(<i>a</i>) The light image refracted by the -prism is extended over the dark on one -side, while the dark on the other side is -extended over it.</p> - -<p class='c006'>(<i>b</i>) The bright over the dark produces -the blue in different degrees. The side -nearest the dark being the deepest or violet, -and the side nearest the light image -being the lightest blue.</p> - -<p class='c006'>(<i>c</i>) On the other side, the dark over light -produces yellow in different degrees; nearest -the dark we have the deepest color, -(orange approaching to red) and on the -side nearest the light, the light yellow or -saffron tint.</p> - -<p class='c006'>(<i>d</i>) If the image is large and but little -refracted (as with a water prism) there will -appear between the two opposite colored -edges a colorless image, proving that the -colors arise from the mingling of the light -and dark edges, and not from any peculiar -property of the prism which should “decompose -the ray of light,” as the current -theory expresses it. If the latter theory -<span class='pageno' id='Page_64'>64</span>were correct the decomposition would be -throughout, and the whole image be colored.</p> - -<p class='c006'>(<i>e</i>) If the image is a small one, or it is -very strongly refracted, the colored edges -come together in the middle, and the mingling -of the light yellow with the light blue -produces <i>green</i>—a new color which did -not appear so long as the light ground -appeared in the middle.</p> - -<p class='c006'>(<i>f</i>) If the refraction is still stronger, -the edges of the opposite colors lap still -more, and the green vanishes. The Newtonian -theory cannot explain this, but it is -to be expected according to Goethe’s theory.</p> - -<p class='c006'>(<i>g</i>) According to Goethe’s theory, if the -object were a dark one instead of a light -one, and were refracted on a light surface, -the order of colors would be reversed on -each edge of the image. This is the same -experiment as one makes by looking -through a prism at the bar of a window -appearing against the sky. Where in the -light image we had the yellow colors we -should now expect the blue, for now it is -dark over light where before it was light -over dark. So, also, where we had blue -we should now have yellow. This experiment -may be so conducted that the current -doctrine that violet is refracted the -most, and red the least, shall be refuted.</p> - -<p class='c006'>(<i>h</i>) This constitutes the <i>experimentum -crucis</i>. If the prism be a large water prism, -and a black strip be pasted across the middle -of it, parallel with its axis, so that in -the midst of the image a dark shadow intervenes, -the spectrum appears inverted in -the middle, so that the red is seen where -the green would otherwise appear, and -those rays supposed to be the least refrangible -are found refracted the most.</p> - -<p class='c006'>(<i>i</i>) When the two colored edges do not -meet in this latter experiment, we have -blue, indigo, violet, as the order on one -side; and on the other, orange, yellow, -saffron; the deeper colors being next to -the dark image. If the two colored edges -come together the union of the orange with -the violet produces the perfect red (called -by Goethe “<i>purpur</i>”).</p> - -<p class='c006'>(<i>j</i>) The best method of making experiments -is not the one that Newton employed—that -of a dark room and a pencil of -light—but it is better to look at dark and -bright stripes on grounds of the opposite -hue, or at the bars of a window, the prism -being held in the hand of the investigator. -In the Newtonian form of the experiment -one is apt to forget the importance of the -dark edge where it meets the light.</p> - -<p class='c006'>[For further information on this interesting -subject the English reader is referred -to Eastlake’s translation of Goethe’s -Philosophy of Colors, published in London.]</p> -<div class='chapter'> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_65'>65</span> - <h2 class='c004'>THE JOURNAL OF SPECULATIVE PHILOSOPHY. <br /> Vol. I. 1867. No. 2.</h2> -</div> -<h3 class='c014'>SECOND PART OF GOETHE’S FAUST. <br /> [Translated from Rosenkrantz’s “Deutsche Literatur,” by D. J. Snider.]</h3> -<p class='c005'>Goethe began nothing if the whole of the -work did not hover before his mind. By -this determinateness of plan he preserved -a most persevering attachment to the materials -of which he had once laid hold; -they were elements of his existence, which -for him were immortal, because they constituted -his inmost being. He could put -off their execution for years, and still be -certain that his love for them would return, -that his interest in them would animate -him anew. Through this depth of -conception he preserved fresh to the end -his original purpose; he needed not to -fear that the fire of the first enthusiasm -would go out; at the most different times -he could take up his work again with -youthful zeal and strength. Thus in the -circle of his poetical labors, two conceptions -that are in internal opposition to one -another, accompanied him through his -whole life. The one portrays a talented -but fickle man, who, in want of culture, attaches -himself to this person, then to that -one, in order to become spiritually independent. -This struggle carries him into -the breadth of life, into manifold relations -whose spirit he longs to seize and appropriate; -such is Wilhelm Meister. The -other is the picture of an absolutely independent -personality that has cultivated its -lordly power in solitary loftiness, and aspires -boldly to subject the world to itself; -such is Faust. In the development of both -subjects there is a decisive turning-point -which is marked in the first by the “Travels;” -in the second, by the Second Part -of the Tragedy. Up to this point, both in -Wilhelm Meister and in Faust, subjective -conditions prevail, which gradually purify -themselves to higher views and aims. For -the one, the betrothal with Natalia closes -the world of wild, youthful desire; for the -other, the death of Margaret has the -same effect. The one steps into civil society -and its manifold activity, with the -earnest endeavor to comprehend all its elements, -to acquire, preserve, and beautify -property, and to assist in illuminating and -ennobling social relations; the other takes -likewise a practical turn, but from the -summit of Society, from the stand-point -of the State itself. If, therefore, in the -apprenticeship and First Part of the Tragedy, -on account of the excess of subjective -conditions, a closer connection of the -character and a passionate pathos are necessary, -there appears, on the contrary, in the -Travels and Second part of the Tragedy a -thoughtfulness which moderates everything—a -<span class='pageno' id='Page_66'>66</span>cool designingness; the particular -elements are sharply characterized, but -the personages seem rather as supporters -of universal aims, in the accomplishment -of which their own personality is submerged; -the Universal and its language is -their pathos, and the interest in their history, -that before was so remarkably fascinating, -is blunted of its keenness.</p> - -<p class='c006'>We have seen Faust grow, fragment by -fragment, before our eyes. So long as -there existed only a First Part, two views -arose. The one maintained that it was in -this incompleteness what it should be, a -wonderful Torso; that this magnificent -poem only as a fragment could reflect the -World in order to indicate that Man is able -to grasp the Universe in a one-sided, incomplete -manner only; that as the poet touched -the mysteries of the World, but did not -give a complete solution, so the Enigmatical, -the Prophetic, is that which is truly -poetic, infinitely charming, really mystic. -This view was considered as genial, particularly -because it left to every one free -play—in fact, invited every one in his -imagination to fill up the outlines; for -it could not be defended from a philosophic -nor from an artistic standpoint. -Knowing seeks not half knowledge, Art -aims not at halfness of execution. If -Dante in his Divine Comedy had neglected -any element of nature or of history, if he -had not wrought out all with equal perseverance -in corresponding proportion, could -it be said that his poem would stand higher -without this completion? Or conversely, -shall we praise it as a merit that Novalis’ -Ofterdingen has remained mere fragments -and sketches? This would be the -same as if we should admire the Cologne -Cathedral less than we now do were it complete. -Another view supposed that a Second -Part was indeed possible, and the -question arose, in what manner shall this -possibility be thought? Here again two -opposite opinions showed themselves. According -to the one, Faust must perish; -reconciliation with God would be unbecoming -to the northern nature of this Titanic -character; the teeth-gnashing defiance, -the insatiate restlessness, the crushing -doubt, the heaven-deriding fierceness, -must send him to hell. In this the spirit -of the old legend was expressed as it was -at the time of the Reformation—for in the -middle ages the redemption of the sinner -through the intercession of the Virgin -Mary first appeared—as the <i>Volksbuch</i> simply -but strikingly narrates it, as the Englishman, -Marlowe, has dramatized it so -excellently in his Doctor Faustus. But all -this was not applicable to the Faust of -Goethe, for the poet had in his mind an -alteration of the old legend, and so another -party maintained that Faust must be saved. -This party also asserted that the indication -of the poet in the Prologue led to -the same conclusion; that God could not -lose his bet against the Devil; that the destruction -of Faust would be blasphemous -irony on Divine Providence. This assertion -of the necessity of Faust’s reconciliation -found much favor in a time, like ours, -which has renounced not indeed the consciousness -and recognition of Evil, but the -belief in a separate extra-human Devil; -which purposes not merely the punishment -but also the improvement of the criminal; -which seeks even to annul the death penalty, -and transfer the atonement for murder -to the inner conscience and to the effacing -power of the Mind. But how was -Poetry to exhibit such a transition from -internal strife to celestial peace? Some -supposed, as Hinrichs, that since Faust’s -despair resulted originally from science, -which did not furnish to him that which it -had at first promised, and since his childish -faith had been destroyed by scepticism, -he must be saved through the scientific -comprehension of Truth, of the Christian -Religion; that speculative Philosophy must -again reconcile him with God, with the -World, and with himself. They confessed -indeed that this process—study and speculation—cannot -be represented in poetry, -and therefore a Second Part of Faust was -not to be expected. Others, especially -poets, took Faust in a more general sense; -he was to penetrate not only Science but -Life in its entirety; the most manifold -action was to move him, and the sweat of -labor was to be the penance which should -bring him peace and furnish the clearness -promised by the Lord. Several sought to -<span class='pageno' id='Page_67'>67</span>complete the work—all with indifferent -success.</p> - -<p class='c006'>In what manner the poet himself would -add a Second Part to the First, what standpoint -he himself would take, remained a secret. -Now it is unsealed; the poem is unrolled -before us complete; with wondering -look we stand before it, with a beating heart -we read it, and with modest anxiety, excited -by a thousand feelings and misgivings, -we venture cursorily to indicate the -design of the great Master; for years shall -pass away before the meaning of the all-comprehensive -poem shall be unveiled -completely in its details. Still this explanation -of particulars in poetry is a subordinate -matter. The main tendency of a -poem must be seen upon its face, and it -would be a sorry work if it did not excite -a living interest the first time that it was -offered to the enjoyment of a people—if -this interest should result from microscopic -explanations and fine unravelling of -concealed allusions—if enthusiasm should -not arise from the poetry as well as from -the learning and acuteness of the poet. -Such particulars, which are hard to understand, -almost every great poem will furnish; -latterly, the explanatory observations -on epic poems have become even -stereotyped; it must be possible to disregard -them; through ignorance of them -nothing essential must be lost.</p> - -<p class='c006'>The First Part had shown us Faust in -his still cell, engaged in the study of all -sciences. The results of his investigation -did not satisfy the boundless seeker, and -as an experiment he bound himself to the -Devil to see if the latter could not slake -his burning thirst.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Thus he rushed into Life. Earthly enjoyment -surrounded him, Love enchained -him, Desire drove him to sudden, to bad -deeds; in the mad <i>Walpurgisnach</i> he -reached the summit of waste worldliness. -But deeper than the Devil supposed, Faust -felt for his Margaret; he desired to save -the unfortunate girl, but he was obliged to -learn that this was impossible, but that -only endurance of the punishment of crime -could restore the harassed mind to peace. -The simple story of love held everything -together here in a dramatic form. The -Prologue in Heaven, the Witch-kitchen, -the <i>Walpurgisnacht</i>, and several contemplative -scenes, could be left out, and there -still would remain a theatrical Whole of -remarkable effect.</p> - -<p class='c006'>The relation to Margaret—her death—had -elevated Faust above everything subjective. -In the continuation of his life, objective -relations alone could constitute the -motive of action. The living fresh breath -of the First Part resulted just from this -fact, that everything objective, universal, -was seized from the point of subjective -interest; in the Second Part the Universal, -the Objective, stands out prominently; -subjective interests appear only under the -presupposition of the Objective; the form -becomes allegorical.</p> - -<p class='c006'>A story, an action which rounds itself -off to completion, is wanting, and therefore -the dramatic warmth which pulsates -through every scene of the First Part is -no longer felt. The unity which is traced -through the web of the manifold situations, -is the universal tendency of Faust -<i>to create a satisfaction for himself through -work</i>. Mephistopheles has no longer the -position of a being superior by his great -understanding and immovable coldness, -who bitterly mocks Faust’s striving, but -he appears rather as a powerful companion -who skillfully procures the material means -for the aims of Faust, and, in all his activity, -only awaits the moment when Faust -shall finally acknowledge himself to be -satisfied. But the striving of Faust is infinite; -each goal, when once reached, is -again passed by; nowhere does he rest, not -in Society, not in Nature, not in Art, not -in War, not in Industry; only the thought -of Freedom itself, the presentiment of the -happiness of standing with a free people -upon a free soil wrung from the sea, thrills -the old man with a momentary satisfaction—and -he dies. Upon pictures and woodcuts -of the middle ages representations of -dying persons are found, in which the -Devil on one side of the death-bed and angels -on the other await eagerly the departing -soul to pull it to themselves. Goethe -has revived this old idea of a jealousy and -strife between the angels and the Devil for -Man. Mephistopheles, with his horde of -<span class='pageno' id='Page_68'>68</span>devils, struggles to carry away the soul of -Faust to hell, but he forgets himself in unnatural -lust, and the angels bear the immortal -part of Faust to that height where -rest and illumination of the dying begin.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Such an allegorical foundation could not -be developed otherwise than in huge -masses; the division of each mass in itself, -so that all the elements of the thought lying -at the bottom should appear, was the -proper object of the composition. The -First Part could also be called allegorical, -in so far as it reflected the universal Essence -of Spirit in the Individual; but it -could not be said of it in any other sense -than of every poem; Allegory in its stricter -sense was not to be found; the shapes had -all flesh and blood, and no design was felt. -In the Second Part everything passes over -into the really Allegorical, to which Goethe, -the older he grew, seems to have had the -greater inclination; the <i>Xenien</i>, the <i>Trilogie -der Leidenschaft</i>, the <i>Lieder zur Loge</i>, -the <i>Maskenzüge</i>, <i>Epimenides Erwachen</i>, the -cultivation of the Eastern manners, all -proceeded from a didactic turn which delighted -in expressing itself in gnomes, pictures, -and symbolical forms. With wonderful -acuteness, Goethe has always been -able to seize the characteristic determinations, -and unfold them in neat, living language; -however, it lies in the nature of -such poems that they exercise the reflective -faculty more than the heart, and it was -easy to foresee that the Second Part of -Faust would never acquire the popularity -of the First Part; that it would not, as the -latter, charm the nation, and educate the -people to a consciousness of itself, but -that it would always have a sort of esoteric -existence. Many will be repelled by the -mythological learning of the second and -third acts; and the more so, as they do not -see themselves recompensed by the dialectic -of an action; however, we would unhesitatingly -defend the poet against this -reproach; a poem which has to compass -the immeasurable material of the world, -cannot be limited in this respect. What -learning has not Dante supposed in his -readers? Humbly have we sought it, in -order to acquire an understanding of his -poem, in the certainty of being richly rewarded; -the censure which has been cast -upon it for this reason has effected nothing. -Indeed, such fault-finders would here -forget what the first acknowledged Part of -Faust has compelled them to learn. With -this difference of plan, the style must also -change. Instead of dramatic pathos, because -action is wanting, description, explanation, -indication, have become necessary; -and instead of the lively exchange of dialogue, -the lyrical portion has become more -prominent, in order to embody with simplicity -the elements of the powerful world-life. -The descriptions of nature deserve -to be mentioned in particular. The most -wanton fancy, the deepest feeling, the most -accurate knowledge, and the closest observation -into the individual, prevail in all -these pictures with an indescribable charm. -We shall now give a short account of the -contents of each act. In a more complete -exposition we would point out the places -in which the power of the particular developments -centers; in these outlines it is -our design to confine ourselves to tracing -out the universal meaning. To exhibit by -single verses and songs the wonderful -beauty of the language, particularly in the -lyrical portions, would seem to us as superfluous -as the effort to prove the existence -of a divine Providence by anecdotes of -strange coincidences.</p> - -<p class='c006'>The first act brings us into social life; a -multitude of shapes pass by us—the most -different wishes, opinions and humors are -heard; still, a secret unity, which we shall -note even more closely, pervades the confused -tumult. In a delightful spot, lying -upon the flowery sward, we see Faust alone, -tormented by deep pangs, seeking rest and -slumber. Out of pure pity, indifferent -whether the unfortunate man is holy or -wicked, elves hover around him and fan -him to sleep, in order that the past may be -sunk into the Lethe of forgetfulness; otherwise, -a continuance of life and endeavor -is impossible. The mind has the power to -free itself from the past, and throw it behind -itself, and treat it as if it had never -been. The secret of renewing ourselves -perpetually consists in this, that we can -destroy ourselves within ourselves, and, as -a veritable Phœnix, be resurrected from the -<span class='pageno' id='Page_69'>69</span>ashes of self-immolation. Still, this negative -action suffices not for our freedom; -the Positive must be united to us; there -must arise, with “tremendous quaking,” -the sun of new activity and fresh endeavor, -whereby the stillness of nightly repose, -the evanishment of all thoughts and feelings -which had become stable, passes away -in refreshing slumber. Faust awakened, -feels every pulse of nature beating with -fresh life. The glare of the pure sunlight -dazzles him—the fall of waters through -the chasms of the rock depicts to him his -own unrest; but from the sunlight and silvery -vapor of the whirlpool there is created -the richly colored rainbow, which is -always quietly glistening, but is forever -shifting: it is Life. After this solitary -encouragement to new venture and endeavor, -the court of the Emperor receives us, -where a merry masquerade is about to take -place. But first, from all sides, the prosaic -complaints of the Chancellor, the Steward, -the Commander-in-Chief, the Treasurer, -fall upon the ear of the Emperor; money, -the cement of all relations, is wanting to -the State; for commerce, for pleasure, for -luxury, money is the indispensable basis. -At this point, Mephistopheles presses forward -to the place of the old court-fool, -who has just disappeared, and excites the -hope of bringing to light concealed treasure. -To the Chancellor this way seems not -exactly Christian, the multitude raises a -murmur of suspicion, the Astrologer discusses -the possibility—and the proposition -is adopted. After this hopeful prospect, -the masquerade can come off without any -secret anxieties disturbing their merriment. -The nature of the company is represented -in a lively manner. No one <i>is</i> what he -<i>seems</i> to be; each has thrown over himself -a concealing garment; each knows of the -other that he is not that which his appearance -or his language indicates; this effort -to hide his own being, to pretend and to -dream himself into something different -from himself—to make himself a riddle to -others in all openness, is the deepest, most -piquant charm of social interests.</p> - -<p class='c006'>The company will have enjoyment—it -unites itself with devotion to the festive -play, and banishes rough egotism, whose -casual outbreaks the watchful herald sharply -reproves; but still, in the heart of every -one, there remains some intention, which -is directed to the accomplishment of earthly -aims. The young Florentine women -want to please; the mother wishes her -daughter to make the conquest of a husband; -the fishermen and bird-catchers are -trying their skill; the wood-chopper, buffoons, -and parasites, are endeavoring, as -well as they can, to make themselves valid; -the drunkard forgets everything over his -bottle; the poets, who could sing of any -theme, drown each other’s voices in their -zeal to be heard, and to the satirist there -scarcely remains an opportunity for a dry -sarcasm. The following allegorical figures -represent to us the inner powers which determine -social life. First, the Graces appear, -for the first demand of society is to -behave with decency; more earnest are the -Parcæ, the continuous change of duration—still, -they work only mechanically; but -the Furies, although they come as beautiful -maids, work dynamically through the -excitement of the passions. Here the aim -is to conquer. <i>Victoria</i> is throned high -upon a sure-footed elephant, which Wisdom -guides with skilful wand, while Fear -and Hope go along on each side; between -these the Deed wavers until it has reached -the proud repose of victory. But as -soon as this happens, the quarrelsome, -hateful Thersites breaks forth, to soil the -glory with his biting sneer. But his derision -effects nothing. The Herald, as the -regulating Understanding, and as distributive -Justice, can reconcile the differences -and mistakes which have arisen, and -he strikes the scoffer in such a manner that -he bursts and turns into an adder and a -bat. Gradually the company returns to its -external foundation; the feeling of <i>Wealth</i> -must secure to it inexhaustible pleasure. -But Wealth is two-fold: the earthly, money—the -heavenly, poetry. Both must be -united in society, if it would not feel weak -and weary. The Boy Driver, that is, Poetry, -which knows how to bring forth the -Infinite in all the relations of life, and -through the same to expand, elevate and -pacify the heart, is acknowledged by Plutus, -the God of common riches, as the -<span class='pageno' id='Page_70'>70</span>one who can bestow that which he himself -is too poor to give. In the proud fullness -of youth, bounding lightly around with a -whip in his hand, the lovely Genius who -rules all hearts, drives with horses of winged -speed through the crowd. The buffoon -of Plutus, lean Avarice, is merrily ridiculed -by the women; Poetry, warned by the -fatherly love of Plutus, withdraws from -the tumult which arises for the possession -of the golden treasures. Gnomes, Giants, -Satyrs, Nymphs, press on with bacchantic -frenzy; earthly desire glows through the -company, and it celebrates great Pan, -Nature, as its God, as the Giver of powerful -Wealth and fierce Lust. A whirling -tumult threatens to seize hold of everybody—a -huge tongue of flame darts over -all; but the majesty of the Emperor, the -self-conscious dignity of man, puts an end -to the juggling game of the half-unchained -Earth-spirit, and restores spiritual self-possession.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Still Mephistopheles keeps the promise -which he has made. He succeeds in revivifying -the company by fresh sums of -money, obtained in conformity with his -nature, not by unearthing buried treasures -from the heart of the mountains by means -of the wishing-rod, but by making paper-money! -It is not, indeed, real coin, but -the effect is the same, for in society everything -rests upon the caprice of acceptance; -its own life and preservation are thereby -guaranteed by itself, and its authority, -here represented by the Emperor, has infinite -power. The paper notes, this money -stamped by the airy imagination, spread -everywhere confidence and lively enjoyment. -It is evident that the means of -prosperity have not been wanting, nor -stores of eatables and drinkables, but a -form was needed to set the accumulated -materials in motion, and to weave them -into the changes of circulation. With delight, -the Chancellor, Steward, Commander-in-Chief, -Treasurer, report the -flourishing condition of the army and the -citizens; presents without stint give rise -to the wildest luxury, which extends from -the nobles of the realm down to the page -and fool, and in such joyfulness everybody -can unhesitatingly look about him for -new means of pleasure. Because the company -has its essence in the production of -the notes, its internal must strive for the -artistic; every one feels best when he, -though known, remains unrecognized, and -thus a theatrical tendency developes itself. -For here the matter has nothing to do with -the dramatic as real art, in reference to -the egotism which binds the company together. -The theatre collects the idle multitude, -and it has nothing to do but to see, -to hear, to compare, and to judge. Theatrical -enjoyment surpasses all other kinds -in comfort, and is at the same time the -most varied. The Emperor wishes that -the great magician, Faust, should play a -drama before himself and the court, and -show Paris and Helen. To this design -Mephistopheles can give no direct aid; in -a dark gallery he declares, in conversation -with Faust, that the latter himself must -create the shapes, and therefore must go to -the Mothers. Faust shudders at their -names. Mephistopheles gives him a small -but important key, with which he must enter -the shadowy realm of the Mothers for -a glowing tripod, and bring back the same; -by burning incense upon it, he would be -able to create whatever shape he wished. -As a reason why <i>he</i> is unable to form them, -Mephistopheles says expressly that he is -in the service of big-necked dwarfs and -witches, and not of heroines, and that the -Heathen have their own Hell, with which -he, the Christian and romantic Devil, has -nothing to do. And yet he possesses the -key to it, and hence it is not unknown to -him. And why does Faust shudder at the -names of the Mothers? Who are these -women who are spoken of so mysteriously? -If it were said, the Imagination, -<i>Mothers</i> would be an inept expression; if -it were said, the Past, Present and Future, -Faust’s shuddering could not be sufficiently -accounted for, since how should Time -frighten him who has already lived through -the terrors of Death? From the predicates -which are attached to the Mothers, how -they everlastingly occupy the busy mind -with all the forms of creation; how from -the shades which surround them in thousand-fold -variety, from the Being which is -Nothing, All becomes; how from their -<span class='pageno' id='Page_71'>71</span>empty, most lonely depth the living existence -comes forth to the surface of Appearance; -from such designations scarcely -anything else can be understood by the -realm of the Mothers than the world of -Pure Thought. This explanation might -startle at the first glance, but we need only -put Idea for Thought—we need only remember -the Idea-world of Plato in order to -comprehend the matter better. The eternal -thoughts, the Ideas, are they not the -still, shadowy abyss, in which blooming -Life buds, into whose dark, agitated depths -it sends down its roots? Mephistopheles -has the key; for the Understanding, which -is negative Determination, is necessary in -order not to perish in the infinite universality -of Thought; it is itself, however, -only the Negative, and therefore cannot -bring the actual Idea, Beauty, to appearance, -but he, in his devilish barrenness, -must hand this work over to Faust; he can -only recommend to the latter moderation, -so as not to lose himself among the phantoms, -and he is curious to know whether -Faust will return. But Faust shudders because -he is not to experience earthly solitude -alone, like that of the boundless -ocean, when yet star follows star, and wave -follows wave; the deepest solitude of the -creative spirit, the retirement into the invisible, -yet almighty Thought, the sinking -into the eternal Idea is demanded of him. -Whoever has had the boldness of this -Thought—whoever has ventured to penetrate -into the magic circle of the Logical, -and its world-subduing Dialectic, into -this most simple element of infinite formation -and transformation, has overcome -all, and has nothing more to fear, as the -Homunculus afterwards expresses it, because -he has beheld the naked essence, because -Necessity has stripped herself to his -gaze. But it is also to be observed that -the tripod is mentioned, for by this there -is an evident allusion to subjective Enthusiasm -and individual Imagination, by which -the Idea in Art is brought out of its universality -to the determinate existence of -concrete Appearance. Beauty is identical -in content with Truth, but its form belongs -to the sphere of the Sensuous.—While -Faust is striving after Beauty, Mephistopheles -is besieged by women in the illuminated -halls, to improve their looks and assist -them in their love affairs. After this -delicate point is settled, no superstition is -too excessive, no sympathetic cure too -strange—as, for example, a tread of the -foot—and the knave fools them until they, -with a love-lorn page, become too much for -him.—Next the stage, by its decorations, -which represents Grecian architecture, -causes a discussion of the antique and romantic -taste; Mephistopheles has humorously -taken possession of the prompter’s -box, and so the entertainment goes on in -parlor fashion, till Faust actually appears, -and Paris and Helen, in the name of the -all-powerful Mothers, are formed from the -incense which ascends in magic power. -The Public indulges itself in an outpouring -of egotistical criticism; the men despise -the unmanly Paris, and interest themselves -deeply in the charms of Helen; the -women ridicule the coquettish beauty with -envious moralizing, and fall in love for the -nonce with the fair youth. But as Paris -is about to lead away Helen, Faust, seized -with the deepest passion for her wonderful -beauty, falls upon the stage and destroys -his own work. The phantoms vanish; still -the purpose remains to obtain Helen; that -is, the artist must hold on to the Ideal, but -he must know that it is the Ideal. Faust -confuses it with common Actuality, and he -has to learn that absolute Beauty is not of -an earthly, but of a fleeting, etherial nature.</p> - -<p class='c006'>The second act brings us away from our -well-known German home to the bottom of -the sea and its mysterious secrets. Faust -is in search of Helen; where else can he -find her, perfect Beauty, than in Greece? -But first he seeks her, and meets therefore -mere shapes, which unfold themselves from -natural existence, which are not yet actual -humanity. Indeed, since he seeks natural -Beauty—for spiritual Beauty he has already -enjoyed in the heavenly disposition of -Margaret—the whole realm of Nature opens -upon us; all the elements appear in succession; -the rocks upon which the earnest -Sphinxes rest, in which the Ants, Dactyls, -Gnomes work, give the surrounding ground; -the moist waters contain in their bosom -<span class='pageno' id='Page_72'>72</span>the seeds of all things. The holy fire infolds -it with eager flame: according to the -old legend, Venus sprang from the foam of -the sea.—Next we find ourselves at Wittenberg, -in the ancient dwelling, where it is -easy to see by the cob-webs, dried-up ink, -tarnished paper, and dust, that many years -have passed since Faust went out into the -world. Mephistopheles, from the old coat -in which he once instructed the knowledge-seeking -pupil, shakes out the lice and -crickets which swarm around the old master -with a joyful greeting, as also Parseeism -makes Ahriman the father of all vermin. -Faust lies on his bed, sleeps and -dreams the lustful story of Leda, which, -in the end, is nothing more than the most -decent and hence producible representation -of generation. While Mephistopheles in -a humorous, and as well as the Devil can, -even in an idyllic manner, amuses himself, -while he inquires sympathetically after -Wagner of the present Famulus, a pupil -who, in the meanwhile, has become a Baccalaureate, -comes storming in, in order to see -what the master is doing who formerly inculcated -such wise doctrines, and in order -to show what a prodigiously reasonable -man he has himself become. A persiflage -of many expressions of the modern German -Natural Philosophy seems recognizable -in this talk. Despising age, praising -himself as the dawn of a new life, he spouts -his Idealism, by means of which he creates -everything, Sun, Moon and Stars, purely -by the absoluteness of subjective Thought. -Mephistopheles, though the pupil assails -him bitterly, listens to his wise speeches -with lamb-like patience, and after this refreshing -scene, goes into Wagner’s laboratory. -The good man has stayed at home, -and has applied himself to Chemistry, to create, -through its processes, men. To his tender, -humane, respectable, intelligent mind, -the common way of begetting children is too -vulgar and unworthy of spirit. Science must -create man; a real materialism will produce -him. Mephistopheles comes along just at -this time, to whom Wagner beckons silence, -and whispers anxiously to him his undertaking, -as in the glass retort the hermaphroditic -boy, the Homunculus, begins to stir. -But alas! the Artificial requires enclosed -space. The poor fellow can live only in the -glass retort, the outer world is too rough for -him, and still he has the greatest desire to -be actually born. A longing, universal -feeling for natural life sparkles from him -with clear brilliancy, and cousin Mephistopheles -takes him along to the classic -<i>Walpurgisnacht</i>, where Homunculus hopes -to find a favorable moment. Mephistopheles -is related to the little man for this reason, -because the latter is only the product -of nature, because God’s breath has not -been breathed into him as into a real man.</p> - -<p class='c006'>After these ironical scenes, the fearful -night of the Pharsalian Fields succeeds, -where the antique world terminated its free -life. This plain, associated with dark remembrances -and bloody shadows, is the -scene of the Classical <i>Walpurgisnacht</i>. -Goethe could choose no other spot, for just -upon this battle-field the spirit of Greek and -Roman antiquity ceased to be a living actuality. -As an external reason, it is well -known that Thessaly was to the ancients -the land of wizards, and especially of -witches, so that from this point of view -the parallel with the German Blocksberg -is very striking. Faust, driven by impatience -to obtain Helen, is in the beginning -sent from place to place to learn her residence, -until Chiron takes him upon the -neck which had once borne that most loving -beauty, and with a passing sneer at the -conjectural troubles of the Philologist, tells -him of the Argonauts, of the most beautiful -man, of Hercules, until he stops his -wild course at the dwelling of the prophetic -Manto, who promises to lead Faust to Helen -on Olympus. Mephistopheles wanders in -the meanwhile among Sphinxes, Griffons, -Sirens, etc. To him, the Devil of the -Christian and Germanic world, this classic -ground is not at all pleasing; he longs for -the excellent Blocksberg of the North, and -its ghostly visages; with the Lamiæ indeed -he resolves to have his own sport, but is -roguishly bemocked; finally, he comes to -the horrible Phorcyads, and after their -pattern he equips himself with one eye and -a tusk for his own amusement; that is, he -becomes the absolutely Ugly, while Faust -is wooing the highest Beauty. In the -Christian world the Devil is also represented -<span class='pageno' id='Page_73'>73</span>as fundamentally ugly and repulsive; -but he can also, under all forms, appear as -an angel of light. In the Art-world, on -the contrary, he can be known only as the -Ugly. In all these scenes there is a mingling -of the High and the Low, of the Horrible -and the Ridiculous, of vexation and -whimsicality, of the Enigmatical and the -Perspicuous, so that no better contradictions -could be wished for a <i>Walpurgisnacht</i>. -The Homunculus on his part is ceaselessly -striving to come to birth, and betakes himself -to Thales and Anaxagoras, who dispute -whether the world arose in a dry -or wet way. Thales leads the little man to -Nereus, who, however, refuses to aid the -seeker, partly because he has become angry -with men, who, like Paris and Ulysses, -have always acted against his advice, and -partly because he is about to celebrate a -great feast. Afterwards they go to Proteus, -who at first is also reticent, but soon -takes an interest in Homunculus, as he beholds -his shining brilliancy, for he feels -that he is related to the changing fire, and -gives warning that as the latter can become -everything, he should be careful about becoming -a man, for it is the most miserable -of all existences. In the meanwhile, the -Peneios roars; the earth-shaking Seismos -breaks forth with a loud noise; the silent -and industrious mountain-spirits become -wakeful. But always more clearly the -water declares itself as the womb of all -things; the festive train of the Telchines -points to the hoary Cabiri; bewitchingly -resound the songs of the Sirens; Hippocamps, -Tritons, Nereids, Pselli and Marsi -arise from the green, pearl-decked ground; -the throne of Nereus and Galatea arches -over the crystalline depths; at their feet -the eager Homunculus falls to pieces, and -all-moving Eros in darting flames streams -forth. Ravishing songs float aloft, celebrating -the holy elements, which the ever-creating -Love holds together and purifies. -Thales is just as little in the right as Anaxagoras; -together, both are right, for Nature -is kindled to perpetual new life by the -marriage of Fire and Water.</p> - -<p class='c006'>The difference between this <i>Walpurgisnacht</i> -and the one in the First Part lies in -the fact, that the principle of the latter is -the relation of Spirit to God. In the -Christian world the first question is, what -is the position of man towards God; therefore -there appear forms which are self-contradictory, -lacerated spiritually, torn -in pieces by the curse of condemnation to -all torture. Classic Life has for its basis -the relation to Nature; the mysterious -Cabiri were only the master-workmen of -Nature. Nature finds in man her highest -goal; in his fair figure, in the majesty of -his form she ends her striving; and therefore -the contradictions of the classic <i>Walpurgisnacht</i> -are not so foreign to Mephistopheles, -who has to do with Good and -Bad, that he does not feel his contact with -them, but still they are not native to him. -The general contradiction which we meet -with, and which also in Mephistopheles -expresses itself by the cloven foot at least, -is the union of the human and animal -frame; the human is at first only half existent, -on earth in Sphinxes, Oreads, Sirens, -Centaurs; in water, in Hippocamps, Tritons, -Nymphs, Dorids, etc. For the fair -bodies of the latter still share the moist -luxuriance of their element. Thus Nature -expands itself in innumerable creations in -order to purify itself in man, in the self-conscious -spirit, in order to pacify and -shut off in him the infinite impulse to formation, -because it passes beyond him to -no new form. He is the embodied image of -God. The inclosed Homunculus, with his -fiery trembling eagerness to pass over into -an independent actuality, is, as it were, -the serio-comic representation of this tendency, -until he breaks the narrow glass, -and now is what he should be, the union -of the elements, for this is Eros according -to the most ancient Greek conception, as -we still find even in the Philosophers.</p> - -<p class='c006'>In the third act Goethe has adhered to -the old legend, according to which, Faust, -by means of Mephistopheles, obtained Helen -as a concubine, and begat a son, Justus -Faustus. Certainly, the employment of -this feature was very difficult; and still, -even in our days, a poet, L. Bechstein, in -his Faust, has been wrecked upon this rock. -He has Helen marry Faust; they beget a -child; but finally, when Faust makes his -will, and turns away unlovingly from wife -<span class='pageno' id='Page_74'>74</span>and child, it is discovered that the Grecian -Helen, who in the copperplates is also costumed -completely in the antique manner, -is a German countess of real flesh and -blood, who has been substituted by the -Devil; an undeceiving which ought to excite -the deepest sympathy. Goethe has -finely idealized this legend; he has expressed -therein the union of the romantic -and classic arts. The third act, this Phantasmagory, -is perhaps the most perfect of -all, and executed in the liveliest manner. -As noble as is the diction of the first and -second acts, especially in the lyrical portions, -it is here nevertheless by far surpassed. -Such a majesty and simplicity, such -strength and mildness, unity and variety, -in so small a space, are astonishing. First -resounds the interchange of the dignity of -Æschylus and Sophocles, with the sharp-steeled -wit of Aristophanes; then is heard -the tone of the Spanish romances, an agreeable, -iambic measure, a sweet, ravishing -melody; finally, new styles break forth, -like the fragments of a prophecy; ancient -and modern rhythms clash, and the harmony -is destroyed.—Helen returns, after the -burning of Troy, to the home of her spouse, -Menelaus; the stewardess, aged, wrinkled, -ugly, but experienced and intelligent, -Phorcyas, receives her mistress in the citadel -by command. Opposed to Beauty, as -was before said, Mephistopheles can only -appear as ugliness, because in the realm -of beautiful forms, the Ugly is the -Wicked. There arises a quarrel between -the graceful, yet pretentious youth of the -Chorus, and world-wise, yet stubborn Old -Age. Helen has to appease it, and she -learns with horror from Phorcyas that -Menelaus is going to sacrifice her.—Still, -(as on the one hand Grecian fugitives, after -the conquest of Constantinople, instilled -everywhere into German Life the taste -for classic Beauty, and as, on the other -hand, one of the Ottomans in Theophania—like -Faust—won a Helen, and thereby -everywhere arose a striving after the appropriation -of the Antique,) the old stewardess -saves her, and bears her through -the air together with her beautiful train, -to the Gothic citadel of Faust, where the -humble and graceful behavior of the iron -men towards the women, in striking contrast -to their hard treatment on the banks -of the Eurotas, at once wins the female -heart. The watchman of the tower, Lynceus, -lost in wondering delight over the -approaching beauty, forgets to announce -her, and has brought upon himself a heavy -punishment; but Helen, the cause of his -misdemeanor, is to be judge in his case, -and she pardons him.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Faust and all his vassals do homage to -the powerful beauty, in whom the antique -pathos soon disappears. In the new surroundings, -in the mutual exchange of quick -and confiding love, the sweet rhyme soon -flows from their kissing lips. An attack of -Menelaus interrupts the loving courtship; -but Valor, which in the battle for Beauty -and favor of the ladies, seeks its highest -honor and purport, is unconquerable, and -the swift might of the army victoriously -opposes Menelaus. Christian chivalry protects -the jewel of beauty which has fled to -it for safety, against all barbarism pressing -on from the East.—Thus the days of the -lovers pass rapidly away in secret grottoes -amid pastoral dalliance; as once Mars refreshed -himself in the arms of Venus, so -in the Middle Ages knights passed gladly -from the storm of war to the sweet service -of women in quiet trustfulness. Yet the -son whom they beget, longs to free himself -from this idle, Arcadian life. The nature -of both the mother and the father drives -him forward, and soon consummates the -matter. Beautiful and graceful as Helen, -the insatiate longing for freedom glows in -him as in Faust. He strikes the lyre with -wonderful, enchanting power; he revels -wildly amid applauding maidens; he rushes -from the bottom of the valley to the tops -of the mountains, to see far out into the -world, and to breathe freely in the free -air. His elastic desire raises him, a second -Icarus, high in the clouds; but he soon -falls dead at the feet of the parents, while -an aureola, like a comet, streaks the Heavens. -Thus perished Lord Byron. He is a -poet more romantic than Goethe, to whom, -however, Art gave no final satisfaction, because -he had a sympathy for the sufferings -of nations and of mankind, which called -him pressingly to action. His poems are -<span class='pageno' id='Page_75'>75</span>full of this striving. In them he weeps -away his grief for freedom. Walter Scott, -who never passed out of the Middle Ages, -is read more than Byron. But Byron is -more powerful than he, because the Idea -took deeper root, and that demoniacal -character concentrated in itself all the -struggles of our agitated time. Divine -poesy softened not the wild sorrow of his -heart, and the sacrifice of himself for the -freedom of a beloved people and land -could not reproduce classic Beauty. The -fair mother, who evidently did not understand -the stormy, self-conscious character -of her son, sinks after him into the lower -world. As everything in this phantasmagory -is allegorical, I ask whether this can -mean anything else than that freedom is -necessary for beauty, and beauty also for -freedom? Euphorion is boundless in his -striving; the warnings of the parents avail -not. He topples over into destruction. -But Helen, i.e. Beauty, cannot survive -him, for all beauty is the expression of -freedom, of independence, although it does -not need to know the fact. Only Faust, -who unites all in himself, who strives to -reach beyond Nature and Art, Present and -Past, that is, the knowing of the True, -survives her; upon her garments, which -expand like a cloud, he moves forth. -What remains now, since the impulse of -spiritual Life, the clarification of Nature -in Art, the immediate spiritual Beauty, -have vanished? Nothing but Nature in -her nakedness, whose choruses of Oreads, -Dryads and Nymphs swarm forth into the -mountains, woods and vineyards, for bacchantic -revelry; an invention which belongs -to the highest effort of all poetry. -It is a great kindness in the Devil, when -Phorcyas at last discloses herself as -Mephistopheles, and where there is need, -offers herself as commentator.</p> - -<p class='c006'>The life of Art, of Beauty, darkens like -a mist; upon the height of the mountain, -Faust steps out of the departing cloud, and -looks after it as it changes to other forms. -His restless mind longs for new activity. -He wants to battle with the waters, and -from them win land; that is, the land shall -be his own peculiar property, since he -brings it forth artificially. As that money -which he gave to the Emperor was not -coined from any metal, but was a product -of Thought; as that Beauty which charmed -him was sought with trouble, and wrung -from Nature, and as he, seizing the sword -for the protection of Beauty, exchanged -Love for the labor of chivalry,—so the land, -the new product of his endeavor, not yet -is, but he will first create it by means -of his activity. A war of the Emperor -with a pretender gives him an opportunity -to realize his wish. He supports the Emperor -in the decisive battle. Mephistopheles -is indifferent to the Right and to -freedom; the material gain of the war is -the principal thing with him; so he takes -along the three mighty robbers, Bully, -Havequick and Holdfast. (See 2d Samuel, -23: 8.) The elements must also fight—the -battle is won—and the grateful Emperor -grants the request of Faust to leave the -sea-shore for his possession. The State is -again pacified by the destruction of the -pretender; a rich booty in his camp repays -many an injury; the four principal offices -promise a joyful entertainment; but the -Church comes in to claim possession of the -ground, capital and interest, in order that -the Emperor may be purified from the guilt -of having had dealings with the suspicious -magician. Humbly the Emperor promises -all; but as the archbishop demands tithe -from the strand of the sea which is not -yet in existence, the Emperor turns away -in great displeasure. The boundless rapacity -of the Church causes the State to -rise up against it. This act has not the -lyrical fire of the previous ones; the action, -if the war can thus be called, is diffuse; -the battle, as broad as it is, is without -real tension; the three robbers are -allegorically true, if we look at the meaning -which they express, but are in other -respects not very attractive. In all the -brilliant particulars, profound thoughts, -striking turns, piquant wit, and wise arrangement, -there is still wanting the living -breath, the internal connection to exhibit -a complete picture of the war. And still, -from some indications, we may believe -that this tediousness is designed, in order -to portray ironically the dull uniformity, -the spiritual waste of external political -<span class='pageno' id='Page_76'>76</span>life, and the littleness of Egotism. For it -must be remembered that the war is a civil -war—the genuine poetic war, where people -is against people, falls into Phantasmagory. -The last scene would be in this respect -the most successful. The continued -persistency of the spiritual lord to obtain -in the name of the heavenly church, earthly -possessions, the original acquiescence of -the Emperor, but his final displeasure at -the boundless shamelessness of the priest, -are excellently portrayed, and the pretentious -pomp of the Alexandrine has never -done better service.</p> - -<p class='c006'>In the fifth act we behold a wanderer, -who is saved from shipwreck, and brought -to the house of an aged couple, Philemon -and Baucis. He visits the old people, eats -at their frugal table, sees them still happy -in their limited sphere, but listens with astonishment -to them, as they tell of the -improvements of their rich neighbor, and -they express the fear of being ousted by -him. Still, they pull the little bell of -their chapel to kneel and pray with accustomed -ceremony in presence of the ancient -God.—The neighbor is Faust. He has -raised dams, dug canals, built palaces, laid -out ornamental gardens, educated the people, -sent out navies. The Industry of our -time occupies him unceasingly; he revels -in the wealth of trade, in the turmoil of -men, in the commerce of the world. That -those aged people still have property in the -middle of his possessions is extremely -disagreeable to him, for just this little spot -where the old mossy church stands, the -sound of whose bell pierces his heart, -where the airy lindens unfold themselves -to the breeze, he would like to have as a -belvedere to look over all his creations at -a glance. Like a good man whose head is -always full of plans, he means well to the -people, and is willing to give them larger -possessions where they can quietly await -death, and he sends Mephistopheles to treat -with them. But the aged people, who care -not for eating and drinking, but for comfort, -will not leave their happy hut; their -refusal brings on disputes, and the dwelling, -together with the aged couple and the -lindens, perishes by fire in this conflict between -the active Understanding and the -poetry of Feeling, which, in the routine of -pious custom, clings to what is old. Faust -is vexed over the turn which affairs have -taken, particularly over the loss of the -beautiful lindens, but consoles himself -with the purpose to build in their stead a -watch-tower. Then before the palace, appear -in the night, announcing death, four -hoary women, Starvation, Want, Guilt and -Care, as the Furies who accompany the external -prosperity of our industrial century. -Still, Care can only press through the -key-hole of the chamber of the rich man, -and places herself with fearful suddenness -at his side. The Negative of Thought is -to be excluded by no walls. But Faust immediately -collects himself again; with impressive -clearness he declares his opinion -of life, of the value of the earthly Present; -Care he hates, and does not recognize -it as an independent existence. She will -nevertheless make herself known to him -at the end of his life, and passes over his -face and makes him blind. Still, Faust -expresses no solicitude, though deprived of -his eyes by Care; no alteration is noticed -in him, he is bent only upon his aims; the -energy of his tension remains uniform: -Spirit, Thought, is the true eye; though -the external one is blinded, the internal -one remains open and wakeful. The transition -from this point to the conclusion is -properly this: that from the activity of -the finite Understanding, only a Finite can -result. All industry, for whose development -Mephistopheles is so serviceable, as -he once was in war, cannot still the hunger -of Spirit for Spirit. Industry creates only -an aggregate of prosperity, no true happiness. -Our century is truly great in industrial -activity. But it should only be the -means, the point of entrance for real freedom, -which is within itself the Infinite. -And Faust has to come to this, even on the -brink of the grave. Mephistopheles, after -this affair with Care, causes the grave of -the old man to be dug by the shaking Lemures. -Faust supposes, as he hears the -noise of the spades, that his workmen are -busily employed. Eagerly he talks over -his plans with Mephistopheles, and at last -he glows at the good fortune of standing -upon free ground with a free people. Daily -<span class='pageno' id='Page_77'>77</span>he feels that man must conquer Freedom -and Life anew, and the presentiment -that the traces of his uninterrupted striving -would not perish in the Ages, is the -highest moment of his whole existence. -This confession of satisfaction kills him, -and he falls to the earth dead. After trying -everything, after turning from himself -to the future of the race, after working -unceasingly, he has ripened to the acknowledgement -that the Individual only in -the Whole, that Man only in the freedom -of humanity can have repose. Mephistopheles -believes that he has won his bet, -causes the jaws of Hell to appear, and -commands the Devils to look to the soul of -Faust. But Angels come, strewing roses -from above; the roses, the flowers of Love, -cause pain where they fall; the Devils and -Mephistopheles himself complain uproariously. -He lashes himself with the falling -roses, which cling to his neck like pitch -and brimstone, and burn deeper than Hell-fire. -First, he berates the Angels as hypocritical -puppets, yet, more closely observed, -he finds that they are most lovely -youths. Only the long cloaks fit them too -modestly, for, from behind particularly, the -rascals had a very desirable look. While -he is seeking out a tall fellow for himself, -and is plunged wholly in his pederastic -lust, the Angels carry away the immortal -part of Faust to Heaven. Mephistopheles -now reproaches himself with the greatest -bitterness, because he has destroyed, -through so trivial a desire, the fruits -of so long a labor. This <i>reductio ad absurdum</i> -of the Devil must be considered as -one of the happiest strokes of humor. The -holy innocence of the Angels is not for -him; he sees only their fine bodies; his -lowness carries him into the Unnatural and -Accidental, just where his greatest interest -and egotism come in play. This result -will surprise most people; but if they consider -the nature of the Devil, it will be -wholly satisfactory; in all cunning he is -at last bemocked as a fool, and he destroys -himself through himself.</p> - -<p class='c006'>In conclusion, we see a woody, rocky -wilderness, settled with hermits. It is not -Heaven itself, but the transition to the -same, where the soul is united to perfect -clearness and happiness. Hence we find -the glowing devotion and repentance of -the <i>Pater ecstaticus</i>, the contemplation of -the <i>Pater profundus</i>, the wrestling of the -<i>Pater serapticus</i>, who, taking into his eyes -the holy little boys because their organs -are too weak for the Earth, shows them -trees, rocks, waterfalls. The Angels bring -in Faust, who, as Doctor Marianus, in the -highest and purest cell, with burning prayer -to the approaching queen of Heaven, seeks -for grace. Around Maria is a choir of -penitents, among whom are the Magna -Peccatrix, the Mulier Samaritana, and Maria -Ægyptiaca. They pray for the earthly -soul; and one of the penitents, once called -Margaret, kneeling, ventures a special intercession. -The Mater Gloriosa appoints -Margaret to lead the soul of Faust to -higher spheres, for he shall follow her -in anticipation. A fervent prayer streams -from the lips of Doctor Marianus; the -Chorus mysticus concludes with the assurance -of the certainty of bliss through -educating, purifying love. Aspiration, the -Eternal feminine, is in Faust, however -deeply he penetrates into every sphere of -worldly activity. The analogy between -Margaret and the Beatrice of Dante is -here undeniable; also, the farther progress -of Faust’s life we must consider similar, -as he, like Dante, grows in the knowledge -and feeling of the Divine till he arrives at -its complete intuition; Dante beholds the -Trinity perfectly free and independent, -without being led farther by anybody. -From this point of view, that the poet -wanted to exhibit reconciliation as becoming, -as a product of infinite growth, is -found the justification of the fact that he -alludes so slightly to God the Father, and -to Christ the Redeemer, and, instead, -brings out so prominently the worship of -the Virgin, and the devotion of Woman. -Devotion has a passive element which finds -its fittest poetical support in women. -These elements agree also very well with -the rest of the poem, since Goethe, throughout -the entire drama, has preserved the -costume of the Middle Ages; otherwise, on -account of the evident Protestant tendency -<span class='pageno' id='Page_78'>78</span>of Faust, it would be difficult to find a necessary -connection with the other parts of -the poem.</p> - -<p class='c006'>As regards the history of Faust in itself, -dramatically considered, the first four acts -could perhaps be entirely omitted. The -fifth, as it shows us that all striving, if its -content is not religion, (the freedom of the -Spirit,) can give no internal satisfaction, as -it shows us that in the earnest striving after -freedom, however much we may err, -still the path to Heaven is open, and is only -closed to him who does not strive, would -have sufficiently exhibited the reconciliation. -But Goethe wants to show not only -this conclusion, which was all the legend -demanded of him, but also the becoming -of this result. Faust was for him and -through him for the nation, and indeed for -Europe, the representative of the world-comprehending, -self-conscious internality -of Spirit, and therefore he caused all the -elements of the World to crystallize around -this centre. Thus the acts of the Second -Part are pictures, which, like frescoes, are -painted beside one another upon the same -wall, and Faust has actually become what -was so often before said of him, a perfect -manifestation of the Universe.</p> - -<p class='c006'>If we now cast a glance back to what we -said in the beginning, of the opposition -between the characters of Wilhelm Meister -and Faust, that the former was <i>the determined -from without</i>, the latter <i>the self-determining -from within</i>, we can also seize -this opposition so that Meister is always in -pursuit of Culture, Faust of Freedom. -Meister is therefore always desirous of -new impressions, in order to have them -work upon himself, extend his knowledge, -complete his character. His capacity and -zeal for Culture, the variety of the former, -the diligence of the latter, forced him to -a certain tameness and complaisance in relation -to others. Faust on the contrary -will himself work. He will possess only -what he himself creates. Just for this reason -he binds himself to the Devil, because -the latter has the greatest worldly power, -which Faust applies unsparingly for his -own purposes, so that the Devil in reality -finds in him a hard, whimsical, insatiate -master. To Wilhelm the acquaintance of -the Devil would indeed have been very interesting -from a moral, psychological and -æsthetic point of view, but he never would -have formed a fraternity with him. This -<i>autonomia</i> and <i>autarkia</i> of Faust have given -a powerful impulse to the German people, -and German literature. But if, in the -continuation of Faust, there was an expectation -of the same Titanic nature, it was -disappointed. The monstrosity of the tendencies -however, does not cease; a man -must be blind not to see them. But in the -place of pleasure, after the catastrophe -with Margaret, an active participation in -the world enters; a feature which Klinger -and others have retained. But Labor in -itself can still give no satisfaction, but its -content, too, must be considered. Or rather, -the external objectivity of Labor is indifferent; -whether one is savant, artist, -soldier, courtier, priest, manufacturer, -merchant, etc., is a mere accident; whether -he wills Freedom or not, is not accidental, -for Spirit is in and for itself, free. -With the narrow studio, in fellowship with -Wagner, Faust begins; with Trade, with -contests about boundaries, with his look -upon the sea, which unites the nations, he -ends his career.</p> - -<p class='c006'>In the World, Freedom indeed realizes -itself, but as absolute, it can only come -to existence in God.</p> - -<p class='c006'>It is therefore right when Goethe makes -the transition from civil to religious freedom. -Men cannot accomplish more than -the realization of the freedom of the nations, -for Mankind has its concrete existence -only in the nations; if the nations -are free, it is also free. Faust must thus -be enraptured by this thought in the highest -degree. But with it, he departs from -the world—Heaven has opened itself above -him. But, though Heaven sheds its grace, -and lovingly receives the striving soul -which has erred, still it demands repentance -and complete purification from what -is earthly. This struggle, this wrestling -of the soul, I find expressed in the most -sublime manner in the songs of the hermits -and the choruses, and do not know what -our time has produced superior in spiritual -<span class='pageno' id='Page_79'>79</span>power, as well as in unwavering hope, -though I must confess that I am not well -enough versed in the fertile modern lyric -literature of Pietism, to say whether such -pearls are to be found in it.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Moreover, it is evident that the pliable -Meister, and the stubborn Faust, are the -two sides which were united in Goethe’s -genius. He was a poet, and became a -courtier; he was a courtier, and remained -a poet. But in a more extensive sense this -opposition is found in all modern nations, -particularly among the Germans. They -wish to obtain culture, and therefore shun -no kind of society if they are improved. -But they wish also to be free. They love -culture so deeply that they, perhaps, for a -while, have forgotten freedom. But then -the Spirit warns them. They sigh, like -Faust, that they have sat so long in a -gloomy cell over Philosophy, Theology, -etc. With the fierceness of lions, they -throw all culture aside for the sake of -freedom, and in noble delusion form an -alliance—even with the Devil.</p> -<h3 class='c001'>A CRITICISM OF PHILOSOPHICAL SYSTEMS. <br /> [Translated from the German of J. G. Fichte, by A. E. Kroeger.]</h3> -<p class='c009'>[<span class='sc'>Note.</span> Below we give to our readers the translation of another Introduction to the Science -of Knowledge, written by Fichte immediately after the one published in our previous number. -Whereas that first Introduction was written for readers who have as yet no philosophical system -of their own, the present one is intended more particularly for those who have set philosophical -notions, of which they require to be disabused.—<span class='sc'>Editor.</span>]</p> - -<p class='c010'>I believe the first introduction published -in this Journal to be perfectly sufficient -for unprejudiced readers, i. e. for readers -who give themselves up to the writer without -preconceived opinions, who, if they do -not assist him, also do not resist him in -his endeavors to carry them along. It is -otherwise with readers who have already a -philosophical system. Such readers have -adopted certain maxims from their system, -which have become fundamental principles -for them; and whatsoever is not produced -according to these maxims, is now pronounced -false by them without further investigation, -and without even reading such -productions: it is pronounced false, because -it has been produced in violation of -their universally valid method. Unless -this class of readers is to be abandoned -altogether—and why should it be?—it is, -above all, necessary to remove the obstacle -which deprives us of their attention; -or, in other words, to make them distrust -their maxims.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Such a preliminary investigation concerning -the <i>method</i>, is, above all, necessary -in regard to the Science of Knowledge, -the whole structure and significance whereof -differs utterly from the structure and -significance of all philosophical systems -which have hitherto been current. The -authors of these previous systems started -from some conception or another; and utterly -careless whence they got it, or out of -what material they composed it, they then -proceeded to analyze it, to combine it with -others, regarding the origin whereof they -were equally unconcerned; and this their -argumentation itself is their philosophy. -Hence their philosophy consists in <i>their -own</i> thinking. Quite different does the -Science of Knowledge proceed. That -which this Science makes the object of its -thinking, is not a dead conception, remaining -passive under the investigation, and -receiving life only from it, but is rather -itself living and active; generating out -of itself and through itself cognitions, -which the philosopher merely observes -in their genesis. His business in the -whole affair is nothing further than to place -that living object of his investigation in -proper activity, and to observe, grasp and -comprehend this its activity as a Unit. -He undertakes an experiment. It is his -business to place the object in a position -which permits the observation he wishes -to make; it is his business to attend to all -<span class='pageno' id='Page_80'>80</span>the manifestations of the object in this -experiment, to follow them and connect -them in proper order; but it is not his -business to <i>cause</i> the manifestations in the -object. That is the business of the object -itself: and he would work directly contrary -to his purpose if he did not allow the -object full freedom to develop itself—if -he undertook but the least interference in -this, its self-developing.</p> - -<p class='c006'>The philosopher of the first mentioned -sort, on the contrary, does just the reverse. -He produces a product of art. In working -out his object he only takes into consideration -its matter, and pays no attention to -an internal self-developing power thereof. -Nay, this power must be deadened before -he undertakes his work, or else it might -resist his labor. It is from the dead matter, -therefore, that he produces something, -and solely by means of his own power, in -accordance with his previously resolved-upon -conception.</p> - -<p class='c006'>While thus in the Science of Knowledge -there are two utterly distinct series of -mental activity—that of the Ego, which -the philosopher observes, and that of the -observations of the philosopher—all other -philosophical systems have only <i>one</i> series -of thinking, viz: that of the thoughts of -the philosopher, for his object is not introduced -as thinking at all.</p> - -<p class='c006'>One of the chief grounds of so many -objections to and misunderstandings of -the Science of Knowledge lies in this: -that these two series of thinking have not -been held apart, or that what belonged to -the one has been taken to belong to the -other. This error occurred because Philosophy -was held to consist only of one -series. The act of one who produces a -work of art is most certainly—since his -object is not active—the appearance itself; -but the description of him who has undertaken -an experiment, is not the appearance -itself, but the conception thereof.<a id='r1' /><a href='#f1' class='c015'><sup>[1]</sup></a></p> - -<p class='c006'>After this preliminary remark, the further -application whereof we shall examine -in the course of our article, let us now -ask: how does the Science of Knowledge -proceed to solve its problem?</p> - -<p class='c006'>The question it will have to answer, is, -as we well know, the following: Whence -comes the system of those representations -which are accompanied by the feeling of -necessity? Or, how do we to come claim -objective validity for what is only subjective? -Or, since objective validity is generally -characterized as <i>being</i>, how do we come -to accept a being? Now, since this question -starts from a reflection that returns into -itself—starts from the observation, that the -immediate object of consciousness is after -all merely consciousness itself,—it seems -clear enough that the question can speak -of no other being than of a being for us. -It would be indeed a complete contradiction, -to mistake it for a question concerning -some being which had no relation to -our consciousness. Nevertheless, the philosophers -of our philosophical age are of -all things most apt to plunge into such absurd -contradictions.</p> - -<p class='c006'>The proposed question, how is a being -<span class='pageno' id='Page_81'>81</span>for us possible? abstracts itself from all -being; i. e. it must not be understood, as -if the question posited a not-being; for -in that case the conception of being would -only be negated, but not abstracted from. -On the contrary, the question does not -entertain the conception of being at -all, either positively or negatively. The -proposed question asks for the ground of -the predicate of being, whether it be applied -positively or negatively; but all -ground lies beyond the grounded, i. e. is -opposed to it. The answer must, therefore, -if it is to be an answer to this question, -also abstract from all being. To maintain, -<i>a priori</i>, in advance of an attempt, -that such an abstraction is impossible in -the answer, because it is impossible in itself, -would be to maintain likewise, that -such an abstraction is impossible in the -question; and hence, that the question -itself is not possible, and that the problem -of a science of metaphysics, as the science -which is to solve the problem of the ground -of being for us, is not a problem for human -reason.</p> - -<p class='c006'>That such an abstraction, and hence -such a question, is contrary to reason, -cannot be proven by objective grounds to -those who maintain its possibility; for -the latter assert that the possibility and -necessity of the question is grounded upon -the highest law of reason—that of self-determination, -(Practical legislation,) under -which all other laws of reason are -subsumed, and from which they are all -derived, but at the same time determined -and limited to the sphere of their validity. -They acknowledge the arguments of their -opponents willingly enough, but deny their -application to the present case; with what -justice, their opponents can determine -only by placing themselves upon the -basis of this highest law, but hence, also, -upon the basis of an answer to the disputed -question, by which act they would cease to -be opponents. Their opposition, indeed, -can only arise from a subjective defect—from -the consciousness that they never -raised this question, and never felt the -need of an answer to it. Against this -their position, no objective grounds can, -on the other hand, be made valid, by those -who insist on an answer to the question; -for the doubt, which raises that question, -is grounded upon previous acts of freedom, -which no demonstration can compel -from any one.</p> -<h4 class='c012'>III.</h4> -<p class='c005'>Let us now ask: Who is it that undertakes -the demanded abstraction from all -being? or, in which of the two series does -it occur? Evidently, in the series of philosophical -argumentation, for another series -does not exist.</p> - -<p class='c006'>That, to which the philosopher holds, -and from which he promises to explain all -that is to be explained, is the consciousness, -the subject. This subject he will, -therefore, have to comprehend free from -all representation of being, in order first -to show up in it the ground of all being—of -course, for itself. But if he abstracts -from all being of and for the subject, -nothing pertains to it but an acting. Particularly -in relation to being is it the acting. -The philosopher will, therefore, have -to comprehend it in its acting, and from -this point the aforementioned double series -will first arise.</p> - -<p class='c006'>The fundamental assertion of the philosopher, -as such, is this: as soon as the Ego -is for itself, there necessarily arises for it -at the same time an external being; the -ground of the latter lies in the former; -the latter is conditioned by the former. -Self-consciousness and consciousness of a -Something which is not that Self, is necessarily -united; but the former is the -conditioning and the latter the conditioned. -To prove this assertion—not, perhaps, -by argumentation, as valid for a system of -a being in itself, but by observation of -the original proceeding of reason, as valid -for reason—the philosopher will have to -show, firstly, how the Ego is and becomes -for itself; and secondly, that this its own -being for itself is not possible, unless at -the same time there arises for it an external -being, which is not it.</p> - -<p class='c006'>The first question, therefore, would be: -how is the Ego for itself? and the first -postulate: think thyself! construe the -conception of thyself, and observe how -thou proceedest in this construction.</p> - -<p class='c006'>The philosopher affirms that every one -<span class='pageno' id='Page_82'>82</span>who will but do so, must necessarily discover -that in the thinking of that conception, -his activity, as intelligence, returns -into itself, makes itself its own object.</p> - -<p class='c006'>If this is correct and admitted, the manner -of the construction of the Ego, the -manner of its being for itself, (and we -never speak of another being,) is known; -and the philosopher may then proceed to -prove that this act is not possible without -another act, whereby there arises for the -Ego an external being.</p> - -<p class='c006'>It is thus, indeed, that the Science of -Knowledge proceeds. Let us now consider -with what justice it so proceeds.</p> -<h4 class='c012'>IV.</h4> -<p class='c005'>First of all: what in the described act -belongs to the philosopher, as philosopher, -and what belongs to the Ego he is to -observe? To the Ego nothing but the return -to itself; everything else to the description -of the philosopher, for whom, as -mere fact, the system of all experience, -which in its genesis the Ego is now to produce -under his observation, has already -existence.</p> - -<p class='c006'>The Ego returns <i>into itself</i>, is the assertion. -Has it not then already being in -advance of this return into itself, and independently -thereof? Nay, must it not -already be for itself, if merely for the possibility -of making itself the object of its -action? Again, if this is so, does not the -whole philosophy presuppose what it ought -first to explain?</p> - -<p class='c006'>I answer by no means. First through -this act, and only by means of it—by means -of an acting upon an acting—does the Ego -<i>originally</i> come to be <i>for itself</i>. It is only -<i>for the philosopher</i> that it has previous -existence as a fact, because the philosopher -has already gone through the whole experience. -He must express himself as he does, -to be but understood, and he can so express -himself, because he long since has -comprehended all the conceptions necessary -thereunto.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Now, to return to the observed Ego: -what is this its return into itself? Under -what class of modifications of consciousness -is it to be posited? It is no <i>comprehending</i>, -for a comprehending first arises -through the opposition of a non-Ego, and -by the determining of the Ego in this opposition. -Hence it is a mere <i>contemplation</i>. -It is therefore not consciousness, -not even self-consciousness. Indeed, it is -precisely because this act alone produces no -consciousness, that we proceed to another -act, through which a non-Ego originates -for us, and that a progress of philosophical -argumentation and the required deduction -of the system of experience becomes possible. -That act only places the Ego in -the possibility of self-consciousness—and -thus of all other consciousness—but does -not generate real consciousness. That -act is but a part of the whole act of the -intelligence, whereby it effects its consciousness; -a part which only the philosopher -separates from the whole act, but -which is not originally so separated in the -Ego.</p> - -<p class='c006'>But how about the philosopher, as such? -This self-constructing Ego is none other -than his own. He can contemplate that -act of the Ego only in himself, and, in order -to contemplate it, must realize it. He -produces that act arbitrarily and with -freedom.</p> - -<p class='c006'>But—this question may and has been -raised—if your whole philosophy is erected -upon something produced by an act -of mere arbitrariness, does it not then -become a mere creature of the brain, a -pure imaginary picture? How is the philosopher -going to secure to this purely subjective -act its objectivity? How will he -secure to that which is purely empirical -and a moment of time—i. e. the time in -which the philosopher philosophizes—its -originality? How can he prove that his -present free thinking in the midst of the -series of his representations does correspond -to the necessary thinking, whereby -he first became for himself, and through -which the whole series of his representations -has been started?</p> - -<p class='c006'>I answer: this act is in its nature objective. -I am for myself; this is a fact. -Now I could have thus come to be for myself -only through an act, for I am free; -and only through this thus determined act, -for only through it do I become for myself -every moment, and through every other -<span class='pageno' id='Page_83'>83</span>act something quite different is produced. -That acting, indeed, is the very conception -of the Ego; and the conception of the -Ego is the conception of that acting; both -conceptions are quite the same; and that -conception of the Ego can mean and can -not be made to mean anything, but what -has been stated. <i>It is so</i>, because <i>I make -it so</i>. The philosopher only makes clear -to himself what he really thinks and has -ever thought, when he thinks or thought -<i>himself</i>; but that he does think himself is -to him immediate fact of consciousness. -That question, concerning the objectivity is -grounded on the very curious presupposition -that the Ego is something else than -its own thought of itself, and that something -else than this thought and outside -of it—God may know what they do mean!—is -again the ground of it, concerning -the actual nature of which outside something -they are very much troubled. Hence -if they ask for such an objective validity -of the thought, or for a connection between -this object and the subject, I cheerfully -confess that the Science of Knowledge can -give them no instruction concerning it. If -they choose to, they may themselves enter, -in this or any other case, upon the discovery -of such a connection, until they, perhaps, -will recollect that this Unknown -which they are hunting, is, after all, again -their thought, and that whatsoever they -may invent as its ground, will also be their -thought, and thus <i>ad infinitum</i>; and -that, indeed, they cannot speak of or question -about anything without at the same -time thinking it.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Now, in this act, which is arbitrary and -in time, for the philosopher as such, but -which is for the Ego—which he constructs, -by virtue of his just deduced right, for the -sake of subsequent observations and -conclusions—necessarily and originally; in -this act, I say, the philosopher looks at -himself, and immediately contemplates -his own acting; he knows what he does, -because <i>he does it</i>. Does a consciousness -thereof arise in him? Without doubt; for -he not only contemplates, but <i>comprehends</i> -also. He comprehends his act, as an <i>acting -generally</i>, of which he has already a -conception by virtue of his previous experience; -and as this <i>determined</i>, into itself <i>returning</i> -acting, as which he contemplates -it in himself. By this characteristic determination -he elevates it above the sphere -of <i>general acting</i>.</p> - -<p class='c006'><i>What</i> acting may be, can only be <i>contemplated</i>, -not developed from and through -conceptions; but that which this contemplation -contains is <i>comprehended</i> by the -mere opposition of pure <i>being</i>. Acting is -not being, and being is not acting. Mere -conception affords no other determination -for each link; their real essence is only -discovered in contemplation.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Now this whole procedure of the philosopher -appears to <i>me</i>, at least, very possible, -very easy, and even natural; and I -can scarcely conceive how it can appear -otherwise to my readers, and how they -can see in it anything mysterious and -marvellous. Every one, let us hope, can -think <i>himself</i>. He will also, let us hope, -learn that by being required to thus think -himself he is required to perform an act, -dependent upon his own activity, an internal -act; and that if he realizes this demand, -if he really affects himself through -self-activity, he also most surely <i>acts</i> thus. -Let us further hope that he will be able to -distinguish this kind of acting from its -<i>opposite</i>, the acting whereby he thinks -external objects, and that he will find in -the latter sort of thinking the thinking -and the thought to be opposites, (the activity, -therefore, tending upon something -distinct from itself,) while in the former -thinking both were one and the same, (and -hence the activity a return into itself.) -He will comprehend, it is to be hoped, -that—since the thought of himself arises -<i>only</i> in this manner, (an opposite thinking -producing a quite different thought)—the -thought of himself is nothing but the -thought of this act, and the word Ego -nothing but the designation of this act—that -Ego and an <i>into itself returning activity</i> -are completely identical conceptions. He -will understand, let us hope, that if he but -for the present problematically presupposes -with transcendental Idealism that all -consciousness rests upon and is dependent -upon self-consciousness, he must also -<i>think</i> that return into itself as preceding -<span class='pageno' id='Page_84'>84</span>and conditioning all other acts of consciousness; -indeed as the primary act of -the subject; and, since there is nothing for -him which is not in his consciousness, -and since everything else in his consciousness -is conditioned by this act, and therefore -cannot condition the act in the same -respect,—as an act, utterly unconditioned -and hence absolute <i>for him</i>; and he will -thus further understand, that the <i>above -problematical presupposition</i> and this <i>thinking -of the Ego as originally posited through -itself</i>, are again quite identical; and that -hence transcendental Idealism, if it proceeds -systematically, can proceed in no -other manner than it does in the Science of -Knowledge.</p> - -<p class='c006'>This contemplation of himself, which is -required of the philosopher, in his realization -of the act, through which the Ego -arises for him, I call <i>intellectual contemplation</i>. -It is the immediate consciousness -that I act and what I act; it is that through -which I know something, because I do it. -That there is such a power of intellectual -contemplation cannot be demonstrated by -conceptions, nor can conception show what -it is. Every one must find it immediately -in himself, or he will never learn to know -it. The requirement that we ought to -show <i>it</i> what it is by argumentation, is -more marvellous than would be the requirement -of a blind person, to explain to -him, without his needing to use sight, -what colors are.</p> - -<p class='c006'>But it can be certainly proven to everyone -in his own confessed experience, that -this intellectual contemplation does occur -in every moment of his consciousness. I -can take no step, cannot move hand or -foot, without the intellectual contemplation -of my self-consciousness in these acts; -only through this contemplation do I know -that <i>I</i> do it, only through it do I distinguish -my acting and in it myself from the -given object of my acting. Everyone who -ascribes an activity to himself appeals to -this contemplation. In it is the source of -life, and without it is death.</p> - -<p class='c006'>But this contemplation never occurs -alone, as a complete act of consciousness, -as indeed sensuous contemplation also -never occurs alone nor completes consciousness; -both contemplations must be -<i>comprehended</i>. Not only this, but the intellectual -contemplation is also always -connected with a <i>sensuous</i> contemplation. -I cannot find myself acting without finding -an object upon which I act, and this object -in a sensuous contemplation which I comprehend; -nor without sketching an image -of what I intend to produce by my act, -which image I also comprehend. Now, then, -how do I know and how can I know what I -intend to produce, if I do not immediately -contemplate myself in this sketching of -the image which I intend to produce, i. e. -in this sketching of the conception of my -<i>purpose</i>, which sketching is certainly an -act. Only the totality of this condition -in uniting a given manifold completes -consciousness. I become conscious only -of the conceptions, both of the object -upon which I act, and of the purpose I intend -to accomplish; but I do not become -conscious of the contemplations which are -at the bottom of both conceptions.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Perhaps it is only this which the zealous -opponents of intellectual contemplation -wish to insist upon; namely, that that -contemplation is only possible in connection -with a sensuous contemplation; and -surely the Science of Knowledge is not -going to deny it. But this is no reason -why they should deny intellectual contemplation. -For with the same right we might -deny sensuous contemplation, since it also -is possible only in connection with intellectual -contemplation; for whatsoever is -to become <i>my</i> representation must be related -to me, and the consciousness (I) -occurs only through intellectual contemplation. -(It is a remarkable fact of our -modern history of philosophy, that it has -not been noticed as yet how all that may -be objected to intellectual contemplation -can also be objected to sensuous contemplation, -and that thus the arguments of its -opponents turn against themselves.)</p> - -<p class='c006'>But if it must be admitted that there is -no immediate, isolated consciousness of -intellectual contemplation, how does the -philosopher arrive at a knowledge and -isolated representation thereof? I answer, -doubtless in the same manner in which he -arrives at the isolated representation of -<span class='pageno' id='Page_85'>85</span>sensuous contemplation, by drawing a conclusion -from the evident facts of consciousness. -This conclusion runs as follows: -I propose to myself, to think this or that, -and the required thought arises; I propose -to myself, to do this or that, and the representation -that it is being done arises. -This is a fact of consciousness. If I look -at it by the light of the laws of mere sensuous -consciousness, it involves no more -than has just been stated, i. e. a sequence -of certain representations. I become conscious -only of this <i>sequence</i>, in a series of -time movements, and only such a time sequence -can I assert. I can merely state—I -know that if I propose to myself a certain -thought, with the characteristic that -it is to have existence, the representation -of this thought, with the characteristic -that it really has existence, follows; or, -that the representation of a certain manifestation, -as one which ought to occur, is -immediately followed in time by the representation -of the same manifestation as one -which really did occur. But I can, on no -account, state that the first representation -contains the <i>real</i> ground of the second one -which followed; or, that by thinking the -first one the second one <i>became real</i> for me. -I merely remain passive, the placid scene -upon which representations follow representations, -and am, on no account, the active -principle which produces them. Still -I constantly assume the latter, and cannot -relinquish that assumption without relinquishing -my self. What justifies me in it? -In the sensuous ingredients I have mentioned, -there is no ground to justify such -an assumption; hence it is a peculiar and -immediate consciousness, that is to say, a -contemplation, and not a sensuous contemplation, -which views a material and permanent -being, but a contemplation of a -pure activity, which is not permanent but -progressive, not a being but a life.</p> - -<p class='c006'>The philosopher, therefore, discovers -this intellectual contemplation as fact of -consciousness, (for him it is a fact; for -the original Ego a fact and act both together—a -deed-act,) and he thus discovers -it not immediately, as an isolated part of -his consciousness, but by distinguishing -and separating what in common consciousness -occurs in unseparated union.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Quite a different problem it is to explain -this intellectual contemplation, which is -here presupposed as fact, in its <i>possibility</i>, -and by means of this explanation to defend -it against the charge of deception -and deceptiveness, which is raised by dogmatism; -or, in other words, to prove the -<i>faith</i> in the reality of this intellectual contemplation, -from which faith transcendental -idealism confessedly starts—by a something -still higher; and to show up the -interest which leads us to place faith in -its reality, or in the system of Reason. -This is accomplished by showing up the -<i>Moral Law</i> in us, in which the Ego is -characterized as elevated through it above -all the original modifications, as impelled -by an absolute, or in itself, (in the Ego,) -grounded activity; and by which the Ego -is thus discovered to be an absolute Active. -In the consciousness of this law, which -doubtless is an immediate consciousness, -and not derived from something else, the -contemplation of self-activity and freedom -is grounded. <i>I am given to myself through -myself as something, which is to be active -in a certain manner; hence, I am given to -myself through myself as something active -generally; I have the life in myself, and -take it from out of myself. Only through -this medium of the Moral Law do I see</i> <span class='fss'>MYSELF</span>; -<i>and if I see myself through that law, -I necessarily see myself as self-active</i>; and -it is thus that there arises in a consciousness—which -otherwise would only be the -consciousness of a sequence of my representations—the -utterly foreign ingredient -of an <i>activity of myself</i>.</p> - -<p class='c006'>This intellectual contemplation is the -only stand-point for all Philosophy. From -it all that occurs in consciousness may be -explained, but only from it. Without self-consciousness -there is no consciousness at -all; but self-consciousness is only possible -in the way we have shown, i. e. I am only -active. Beyond it I cannot be driven; my -philosophy then becomes altogether independent -of all arbitrariness, and a product -of stern necessity; i. e. in so far as necessity -exists for free Reason; it becomes a -<span class='pageno' id='Page_86'>86</span>product of <i>practical</i> necessity. I <i>can</i> not -go beyond this stand-point, because conscience -says I <i>shall</i> not go beyond it; and -thus transcendental idealism shows itself -up to be the only moral philosophy—the -philosophy wherein speculation and moral -law are intimately united. Conscience -says: I <i>shall</i> start in my thinking from -the pure Ego, and shall think it absolutely -self-active; not as determined by the -things, but as determining the things.</p> - -<p class='c006'>The conception of activity which becomes -possible only through this intellectual -contemplation of the self-active Ego, -is the only one which unites both the -worlds that exist for us—the sensuous and -the intelligible world. Whatsoever is opposed -to my activity—and I must oppose -something to it, for I am finite—is the -sensuous, and whatsoever is to arise -through my activity is the intelligible -(moral) world.</p> - -<p class='c006'>I should like to know how those who -smile so contemptuously whenever the -words “intellectual contemplation” is -mentioned, think the consciousness of the -moral law; or how they are enabled to -entertain such conceptions as those of -Virtue, of Right, &c., which they doubtless -do entertain. According to them there are -only two contemplations <i>a priori</i>—Time -and Space. They surely form these conceptions -of Virtue, &c., in Time, (the form -of the inner sense,) but they certainly do -not hold them to be time itself, but merely -a certain filling up of time. What is it, -then, wherewith they fill up time, and get -a basis for the construction of those conceptions? -There is nothing left to them -but Space; and hence their conceptions of -Virtue, Right, &c., are perhaps quadrangular -and circular; just as all the other conceptions -which they construct, (for instance, -that of a tree or of an animal,) are -nothing but limitations of Space. But -they do not conceive their Virtue and -their Right in this manner. What, then, -is the basis of their construction? If -they attend properly, they will discover -that this basis is activity in general, or -freedom. Both of these conceptions of -virtue and right are to them certain limitations -of their general activity, exactly as -their sensuous conceptions are limitations -of space. How, then, do they arrive at -this basis of their construction? We -will hope that they have not derived activity -from the dead permanency of matter, -nor freedom from the mechanism of -nature. They have obtained it, therefore, -from immediate contemplation, and thus -they confess a third contemplation besides -their own two.</p> - -<p class='c006'>It is, therefore, by no means so unimportant, -as it appears to be to some, whether -philosophy starts from a fact or from a -deed-act, (i. e. from an activity, which presupposes -no object, but produces it itself, -and in which, therefore, the <i>acting</i> is immediately -<i>deed</i>.) If philosophy starts -from a fact, it places itself in the midst -of being and finity, and will find it difficult -to discover therefrom a road to the -infinite and super-sensuous; but if it -starts from a deed-act, it places itself at -once in the point which unites both worlds -and from which both can be overlooked at -one glance.</p> - -<p class='c006'>[Translators frequently use the term -“intuition” for what I have here called -“contemplation;” “Deed-Act” is my rendering -of “That-Handlung.” A. E. K.]</p> - -<div> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_87'>87</span> - <h3 class='c001'>NOTES ON MILTON’S LYCIDAS. <br /> BY ANNA C. BRACKETT.</h3> -</div> -<p class='c005'>Every work of art, whether in sculpture, -painting, or music, must have a definite -content; and only in having such has it -any claim to be so called. This content -must be spiritual; that is, it must come -from the inner spirit of the artist, and -translate itself by means of the work into -spirit in the spectator or listener. Only -in the recognition of this inner meaning -which lives behind the outside and shimmers -through it, can consist the difference -between the impression made on me by -the sight of a beautiful painting, and -that produced on an inferior animal, as -the retina of his eye paints with equal -accuracy the same object. For what -is this sense of beauty which thrills -through me, while the dog at my side looks -at the same thing and sees nothing in seeing -all which the eye can grasp? Is it not -the response in me to the informing spirit -behind all the outward appearance?</p> - -<p class='c006'>But if this sense of beauty stops in passive -enjoyment, if the sense of sight or of -hearing is simply to be intoxicated with -the feast spread before it, we must confess -that our appreciation of beauty is a very -sensuous thing. Content though some -may be, simply to enjoy, in the minds of -others the fascination of the senses only -provokes unrest. We say with Goethe: -“I would fain understand that which interests -me in so extraordinary a manner;” -for this work of art, the product of mind, -touches me in a wonderful way, and must -be of universal essence. Let me seek the -reason, and if I find it, it will be another -step towards “the solvent word.”</p> - -<p class='c006'>Again, in a true work of art this content -must be essentially <i>one</i>; that is, one profound -thought to which all others, though -they may be visible, must be gracefully -subordinate; otherwise we are lost in a -multiplicity of details, and miss the unity -which is the sole sign of the creative mind.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Nor need we always be anxious as to -whether the artist consciously meant to -say thus and so. Has there ever lived a -true artist who has not “builded better -than he knew”? If this were not so, all -works of art would lose their significance -in the course of time. Are the half-uttered -meanings of the statues of the Egyptian -gods behind or before us to-day? Do -they not perplex us with prophecies rather -than remembrances as we wander amazed -among them through the halls of the British -Museum? A whole nation striving to -say the one word, and dying before it was -uttered! Have we heard it clearly yet?</p> - -<p class='c006'>The world goes on translating as it gains -new words with which to carry on the -work. It is not so much the artist that is -before his age as the divine afflatus guiding -his hand which leads not only the age but -him. Through that divine inspiration he -speaks, and he says mysterious words -which perhaps must wait for centuries to -be understood. In that fact lies his right -to his title; in that, alone, lies the right of -his production to be called a work of art.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Doubtless all readers are familiar with -Dr. Johnson’s criticisms on Milton’s Lycidas, -and these we might pass by without -comment, for it would evidently be as impossible -for Dr. Johnson’s mind to comprehend -or be touched by the poetry of Lycidas -as for a ponderous sledge-hammer -to be conscious of the soft, perfume-laden -air through which it might move. The -monody is censured by him because of its -irregularly recurring rhymes, and in the -same breath we are told that it is so full -of art that the author could not have felt -sorrow while writing it. We know how -intricately the rhymes are woven in Milton’s -sonnets, where he seems to have taken -all pains to select the most difficult arrangements, -and to carry them through without -deviation, and we say only that the first -criticism contradicts the last. But some -more appreciative critics, while touched by -the beauty, repeat the same, and say there -is “more poetry than sorrow” in the poem. -More poetry than sorrow! Sorrow is the -grand key note, and strikes in always over -<span class='pageno' id='Page_88'>88</span>and through all the beauty and poetry like -a wailing chord in a symphony, that is -never absent long, and ever and anon -drowns out all the rest. Sorrow, pure and -simple, is the thread on which all the -beautiful fancies are strung. It runs -through and connects them all, and there -is not a paragraph in the whole poem that -is not pierced by it. It is the occasion, -the motive, the inner inspiration, and the -mastery over it is the conclusion of all. -Around it, the constant centre, group themselves -all the lovely pictures, and they all -face it and are subordinate to it.</p> - -<p class='c006'>The soul of the poet is so tossed by the -immediate sorrow that it surrenders itself -entirely to it, and so, losing its will, is -taken possession of by whatever thought, -evoked by the spell of association, rises in -his mind; as when he speaks of Camus -and St. Peter. Ever and anon the will -makes an effort to free itself and to determine -its own course, but again and -again the wave of sorrow sweeps up, and -the vainly struggling will goes down before -it.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Nothing lay closer to Milton’s heart -than the interests of what he believed the -true church; and nothing touched him -more than the abuses which were then -prevalent in the church of England. In -the safe harbor of his father’s country -home, resting on his oars before the appointed -time for the race in which he was -to give away all his strength and joy, surrounded -and inspired by the fresh, pure -air from the granite rocks of Puritanism, -all his growing strength was gathering its -energies for the struggle. This just indignation -and honest protest must find -its way in the poem through the grief -that sweeps over him, and which, because -so deep, touches and vivifies all his -deepest thoughts. But even that strong -under current of conviction has no power -long to steady him against the wave of -sorrow which breaks above his head, none -the less powerful because it breaks in a -line of white and shivers itself into -drops which flash diamond colors in -the warm and pure sunlight of his cultured -imagination. More poetry than sorrow? -Then there is more poetry in Lycidas -than in any other poem of the same -length in our language.</p> - -<p class='c006'>It would be impossible here to go through -the poem with the close care to all little -points which is necessary to enable one -fully to comprehend its exquisite beauty -and finish. It is like one of Beethoven’s -symphonies, where at first we are so occupied -with the one grand thought that -we surrender ourselves entirely to it, and -think ourselves completely satisfied. But -as we appropriate that more and more -fully, within and around it wonderful melodies -start and twine, and this experience -is repeated again and again till the music -seems almost infinite in its content. Let -us, then, briefly go over the burden of the -monody, our chief effort being to show how -perfectly at one it is throughout, how natural -the seemingly abrupt changes,—only -pausing now and then to speak of some -special beauty which is so marked that one -cannot pass it by in silence. If we succeed -in showing a continued and natural -thought in the whole and a satisfactory -solution for the collision which gives rise -to the poem, our end will have been accomplished.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Milton begins in due order by giving, as -prelude, his reason for singing. But he -has written only seven full lines before, -in the eighth, the key-note is struck by -the force of sorrow, which, after saying -“Lycidas is dead,” lingers on the strain -and repeats, to heighten the grief, “dead -ere his prime.” The next line, the ninth, -is still more pathetic in its echoing repetition -and its added cause for mourning. (In -passing, let us say that the effect is greatly -increased in reading this line if the first -word be strongly emphasized.) Because he -hath not left his peer, all should sing for -him. No more excuse is needed. Sorrow -pleases itself in calling up the neglected -form, and then passionately turns to the -only solace that it can have—“Some melodious -tear.”</p> - -<p class='c006'>This, of course, brings the image of -the Muses, and as that thought comes, -once more we have a new attempt at a -formal beginning in the second paragraph -(line 15). First, is the invocation, and -then, recurring to the first thought, Milton -<span class='pageno' id='Page_89'>89</span>says it is peculiarly appropriate for <i>him</i> -to sing of Lycidas. Why? Because they -had been so long together, and as the -thought of happier things arises, the sweet -memories, linked by the chain of association, -come thronging so tumultuously that -he forgets himself in reverie. The music, -at first slow and sweet, grows more and -more strong and rapid till even the rustic -dance-measure comes in merrily. Most -naturally here the key-note is again struck -by the force of contrast, and the despair -of the sorrow that wakes from the forgetfulness -of pleasant dreams to the consciousness -of loss, strikes as rapidly its -minor chords till it seems as if hope were -entirely lost.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Nothing is more unreasonable than this -despair of sorrow. Tossed in its own wild -passion, it sees nothing clearly, and seeking -for some adequate cause, heaps blindly -unmerited reproaches on anything, on -all things. So, recoiling before its power, -stung with its pain, the poet turns reproachfully -to the nymphs, blaming them -for their negligence. But before the -words are fairly uttered he realizes his -folly. Lycidas was beloved by them, but -if Calliope could not save even her own -son, how powerless are they against the -step of inevitable fate! This strikes deep -down in the thunder of the bass notes, and -the thought comes which perhaps cannot -be more powerfully expressed than by the -old Hebrew refrain, “Vanity of vanities, -all is vanity.” After all, why seek for -anything, even for fame? Man’s destiny -is ruled by irresponsible necessity. Life -is worth nothing, and would it not be better, -instead of “scorning delights and living -laborious days,” to yield one’s self to -the pleasures of the passing moment? “All -is vanity and vexation of spirit.” When -any soul reaches this point, it seems as if -help must come from outside of itself or -it will go irrevocably down. Sorrow, despair, -are always represented by darkness. -Is it an accident that the celestial notes -which first strike through the descending -bass, come from the god of light, Phœbus -Apollo? Clear, and sweet, and sudden, -they cleave the closing shadows, the sunlight -comes in again, and the music climbs -up and grows serenely steady.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Relieved from this Inferno the soul -comes once more to self-consciousness, -and in its effort to guide itself, what more -natural than that it should recur to the idea -expressed in the fiftieth line, and attempt -to make something like order by carrying -out that idea. Reason takes command, -and the strain flows smoothly, till, by the -exercise of her power, the true cause of -the misfortune is recognized and a just -indignation (line 100) takes its place. But -in yielding to this, the immediate feeling -regains possession, reason resigns her -sway, and the soul is set afloat again on -the uncertain sea of association. See how -sudden and sweet the transition from fiery -reproach and invective to the gentlest tenderness, -in line 102. It begins with a -thunder peal and dies out in a wail of affection, -expressed by the one word “sacred.” -This forms the connection between -this paragraph and the next, a delicate yet -perfect link, for as all his love overflows -in that one word, the old happier days -come up again; and where should these -memories carry him but to the university -where they had found so much common -pleasure and inspiration. Here the sorrow, -before entirely personal, becomes -wider as the singer feels that others grieve -with him for lost talent and power.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Were they not both destined for the -church for which their university studies -were only a preparation? Most naturally -the subtle chain of association brings up -the thought of the great apostle with the -keys of heaven and hell. How sorely the -church needed true teachers! The earnest -spirit that was ready to assail every -form of wrong, eagerly followed out the -thought which was in the future to burn -into its very life. From line 113 to line -131 notice the succession of feelings. A -sense of irreparable loss—indignation—mark -the <i>three</i> words, “creep,” “intrude,” -and “climb,” no one of which could be -spared. Then comes disgust, expressed -by “Blind mouths.” Ruskin, in his -“Kings’ Treasures,” very happily observes -that no epithet could be more sweeping -than this, for as the office of a bishop is to -oversee the flock, and that of a pastor to -feed it, the utter want of all qualification -for the sacred office is here most forcibly -<span class='pageno' id='Page_90'>90</span>expressed. Contempt follows; then pity -for those who, desiring food, are fed only -with wind; detestation of the secret and -corrupt practices of the Romish church; -and finally hope, coming through the possible -execution of Archbishop Laud, whose -death, it seemed to the young Puritan, -was the only thing needed to bring back -truth, simplicity and safety. Drifting with -these emotions the singer has followed the -lead of his fancies, and just as before, -when light came with healing for his despair, -Hope recalls him to himself, till he -returns again in line 132, as in line 85, to -the regular style of his poem. He is as -one who, waking from wildering dreams, -collects his fugitive thoughts, and tries to -settle them down for the necessary routine -of the day. A more regular and plainly -accented strain, recognized as heard before, -comes into the music, as he pleases -himself in fancying that the sad consolation -is still left him of ornamenting the -hearse. It is useless to speak of the exquisite -finish of these lines, or of how -often one word, as “fresh” for instance, -in line 138, calls up before the mind such -pictures that one lingers and lingers over -the passage, as the poet’s fancy in vain -effort lingered, striving to forget his sorrow. -This strain comes in like some of -the repeating melodies in the second part -of Beethoven’s Fifth Symphony, where it -seems as if the soul had found a new, -sweet thought, and was turning it over -and over as loth to pause, and as in sudden -hope of some relief through its potency. -But the heavy key-note strikes -again through it all, in line 154, with a -crash that drowns all the sweetness and -beauty. We hear the rush of the cruel, -insatiate sea, as its waves dash against -the shore of the stormy Hebrides, and the -conflict of wave and wind takes possession -of us. What thought is more desolate -than that of a solitary human form, tossed -hither and thither in the vast immensity -of ocean! Perhaps, even now, it floats by -“the great vision of the guarded mount.” -It seems to the poet that all should turn -toward England in her sorrow, and it -pains him to think of St. Michael’s steadfast -eyes gazing across the waves of the -bay toward “Namancos and Bayona’s -hold.” “Rather turn hither and let even -your heavenly face relax with human grief, -and ye, unheeding monsters of the deep, -have pity and bear him gently over the -roughening waves.” This he says because -he feels his own impotence. All the love -he bears Lycidas cannot serve him now; -he is lost, and helpless, and alone, and uncared -for. By opposition here, the light -strikes in once more, and now with a -clearer, fuller glow than at either previous -time. At first (line 76) it came in the -form of trust in “all-judging Jove”; then -(line 130) in hope, through belief in impersonal -justice; now it takes the form of -Christian faith. The music mounts higher -and higher into celestial harmonies, losing -entirely its original character, and sounds -like a majestic choral of triumph and -peace.</p> - -<p class='c006'>This properly ends the poem with line -185. There is nothing more to be said. -The tendency is all upward, and the collisions -are overcome. One knows that -here, and here for the first time, have we -reached a movement that is self-sustained. -There is no more danger of being carried -off our basis by any wave of despairing -sorrow. The soul has found a solution at -last, and it knows that it is a trustworthy -one.</p> - -<p class='c006'>The music is finished; but now, that -nothing may be wanting for perfect effect, -we have the scenery added, and this in -such word-painting as has never been surpassed. -Who could ever weary of line -187—“While the still morn went out with -sandals gray,”—either for its melody or -for its subtle appeal to our senses of hearing -and sight? And the slowly growing -and dying day! Who else has ever so -“touched the tender stops” of imagination?</p> - -<p class='c006'>But these woods and pastures are too -full of haunting memories; we seek for -newer ones, where the soul, relieved from -the associations which perpetually call -up the loss of the human and now lifeless -embodiment of spirit, shall be free to think -only of the eternal holding and possessing -which can be sundered by no accident of -time or space.</p> -<div> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_91'>91</span> - <h3 class='c001'>ANALYSIS OF HEGEL’S ÆSTHETICS. <br /> [Translated from the French of M. Ch. Bénard, by J. A. Martling.] <br /> Part II. <br /> OF THE GENERAL FORMS OF ART AND ITS HISTORIC DEVELOPMENT.</h3> -</div> -<p class='c005'>The first part of Hegel’s Æsthetics contains -the questions relating to the nature -of art in general. The second unfolds its -principal forms in the different historic -epochs. It is a species of philosophy of -the history of art, and contains a great -number of views and descriptions which -cannot appear in this analysis. We shall -take so much the more care, without suffering -ourselves to be turned aside by details, -to indicate plainly the course of the ideas, -and to omit nothing essential.</p> - -<p class='c006'>The idea of the Beautiful, or the Ideal, -manifests itself under three essential and -fundamental forms—the <i>symbolic</i>, the <i>classic</i>, -and the <i>romantic</i>. They represent the -three grand epochs of history—the oriental, -the Greek, and the modern.</p> - -<p class='c006'>In the East, thought, still vague and indeterminate, -seeks its true expression and -cannot find it. In the presence of the phenomena -of nature and of human life, -spirit, in its infancy, incapable of seizing -the true sense of things, and of comprehending -itself, exhausts itself in vain -efforts to express certain grand, but confused -or obscure conceptions. Instead of -uniting and blending together in a harmonious -whole the content and the form, -the idea and its image, it attains only a -rude and superficial approximation, and -the result is the symbol with its enigmatic -and mysterious meaning.</p> - -<p class='c006'>In classic art, on the contrary, this harmonious -blending of the form and the idea -is accomplished. Intelligence, having -taken cognizance of itself and of its freedom, -capable of self-control, of penetrating -the significance of the phenomena -of the universe, and of interpreting its -laws, finds here also the exact correspondence, -the measure and the proportion -which are the characteristics of beauty. -Art creates works which represent the -beautiful under its purest and most perfect -form.</p> - -<p class='c006'>But spirit can not rest in this precise -accord of the form and the idea, in which -the infinite and the finite blend. When it -comes to be reflected upon itself, to penetrate -farther into the depths of its inner -nature, to take cognizance of its spirituality -and its freedom, then the idea of the -infinite appears to it stripped of the natural -forms which envelop it. This idea, -present in all its conceptions, can no -longer be perfectly expressed by the forms -of the finite world; it transcends them, -and then this unity, which constitutes the -characteristic of classic art, is broken. -External forms, sensuous images, are no -longer adequate to the expression of the -soul and its free spirituality.</p> -<h4 class='c012'>I. Of Symbolic Art.</h4> -<p class='c005'>After these general considerations, Hegel -treats successively the different forms -of art. Before speaking of symbolic art, -he furnishes an exposition of the <i>symbol</i> -in general.</p> - -<p class='c006'>The symbol is an image which represents -an idea. It is distinguished from the -signs of language in this, that between -the image, and the idea which it represents, -there is a natural relation, not an -arbitrary or conventional one. It is thus -that the lion is the symbol of courage; the -circle, of eternity; the triangle, of the -Trinity.</p> - -<p class='c006'>The symbol, however, does not represent -the idea perfectly, but by a single -side. The lion is not merely courageous; -the fox, cunning. Whence it follows that -the symbol, having many meanings, is -equivocal. This ambiguity ceases only -when the two terms are conceived separately -and then brought into relation; the -symbol then gives place to <i>comparison</i>.</p> - -<p class='c006'><span class='pageno' id='Page_92'>92</span>Thus conceived, the symbol, with its -enigmatic and mysterious character, is -peculiarly adapted to an entire epoch of -history, to oriental art and its extraordinary -creations. It characterizes that order of -monuments and emblems by which the -people of the East have sought to express -their ideas, and have been able to do it -only in an equivocal and obscure manner. -These works of art present to us, instead -of beauty and regularity, a strange, imposing, -fantastic aspect.</p> - -<p class='c006'>In the development of this form of art -in the East, many degrees are noticeable. -Let us first examine its origin.</p> - -<p class='c006'>The sentiment of art, like the religious -sentiment or scientific curiosity, is born -of <i>wonder</i>. The man who is astonished -at nothing lives in a state of imbecility -and stupidity. This state ceases when his -spirit, freeing itself from matter and from -physical wants, is struck by the spectacle -of the phenomena of nature, and seeks -their meaning, when it has the presentiment -of something grand and mysterious -in them, of a concealed power which is revealed -there.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Then it experiences also the need of representing -that inner sentiment of a general -and universal power. Particular objects—the -elements, the sea, rivers, mountains—lose -their immediate sense and significance, -and become for spirit images of -this invisible power.</p> - -<p class='c006'>It is then that art appears; it arises -from the necessity of representing this -idea by sensuous images, addressed at -once to the senses and the spirit.</p> - -<p class='c006'>The idea of an absolute power, in religions, -is manifested at first by the worship -of physical objects. The Divinity is -identified with nature itself. But this -rude worship cannot endure. Instead of -seeing the absolute in real objects, man -conceives it as a distinct and universal -being; he seizes, although very imperfectly, -the relation which unites this invisible -principle to the objects of nature; -he fashions an image, a symbol designed -to represent it. Art is then the interpreter -of religious ideas.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Such is art in its origin; the symbolic -form is born with it. Let us now follow -it in the successive stages of its development, -and indicate its progress in the East -before it attained to the Greek ideal.</p> - -<p class='c006'>That which characterizes symbolic art -is that it strives in vain to discover pure -conceptions, and a mode of representation -which befits them. It is the conflict between -the content and the form, both imperfect -and heterogeneous. Hence the -incessant struggle of these two elements -of art, which vainly seek to harmonize. -The stages of its development exhibit the -successive phases or modes of this struggle.</p> - -<p class='c006'>At the outset, however, this conflict does -not yet exist, or art is not conscious of it. -The point of departure is a unity yet undivided, -in whose depths the discord between -the two principles ferments. Thus -the creations of art, but little distinct -from the objects of nature, are as yet -scarcely symbols.</p> - -<p class='c006'>The end of this epoch is the disappearance -of the symbol. It takes place by the -reflective separation of the two terms. -The idea being clearly conceived, the symbol -on its side being perceived as distinct -from the idea, from their conjunction -arises the <i>reflex</i> symbol, or the comparison, -the allegory, etc.</p> - -<p class='c006'>These principles having been laid down -<i>a priori</i>, Hegel seeks among the people of -the East the forms of art which correspond -to these various degrees of oriental symbolism. -He finds them chiefly among the -ancient Persians, in India, and in Egypt.</p> - -<p class='c006'>1. <i>Persian Art.</i>—At the first moment of -the history of art, the divine principle, -God, appears identified with nature and -man. In the worship of the Lama, for -example, a real man is adored as God. In -other religions the sun, the mountains, the -rivers, the moon, and animals, are also -the objects of religious worship.</p> - -<p class='c006'>The spectacle of this unity of God and -nature is presented to us in the most striking -manner in the life and religion of the -ancient Persians, in the Zend-Avesta.</p> - -<p class='c006'>In the religion of Zoroaster, light is God -himself. God is not distinguished from -light viewed as a simple expression, an emblem -or sensuous image of the Divinity. -If light is taken in the sense of the good -<span class='pageno' id='Page_93'>93</span>and just Being, of the conserving principle -of the Universe, which diffuses everywhere -life and its blessings, it is not merely an -image of the good principle; the sovereign -good itself is light. It is the same with -the opposition of light and darkness, the -latter being considered as the impure element -in every thing—the hideous, the bad, -the principle of death and destruction.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Hegel seeks to demonstrate this opinion -by an analysis of the principal ideas which -form the content of the Zend-Avesta.</p> - -<p class='c006'>According to him, the worship which the -Zend-Avesta describes, is still less symbolic. -All the ceremonies which it imposes -as a religious duty upon the Parsees -are those serious occupations that seek to -extend to all, purity in the physical and -moral sense. One does not find here any -of those symbolic dances which imitate -the course of the stars or any of those religious -acts which have no value except as -images and signs of general conceptions. -There is, then, in it no art properly so-called. -Compared with ruder images or -with the insignificant idols of other peoples, -the worship of light, as pure and universal -substance, presents something beautiful, -elevated, grand, more conformable -to the nature of the supreme good and of -truth. But this conception remains vague; -the imagination creates neither a profound -idea nor a new form. If we see appearing -general types, and the forms which correspond -to them, it is the result of an artificial -combination, not a work of poetry and -art.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Thus this unity of the invisible principle -and visible objects, constitutes only the -first form of the symbol in art. To attain -to the symbolic form properly so-called, it -is necessary that the distinction and the -separation of the two terms appear clearly -indicated and represented to us. It is this -which takes place in the religion, art, and -poetry of India, which Hegel calls the -symbolic of the <i>imagination</i>.</p> - -<p class='c006'>2. <i>Indian Art.</i>—The character of the -monuments which betray a more advanced -form and a superior degree of art, is then -the separation of the two terms. Intelligence -forms abstract conceptions, and -seeks forms which express them. Imagination, -properly so-called, is born; art -truly begins. It is not, however, yet the -true symbol.</p> - -<p class='c006'>What we encounter at first are the productions -of an imagination which is in a -state of complete ferment and agitation. -In the first attempt of the human spirit to -separate the elements and to reunite them, -its thought is still confused and vague. -The principle of things is not conceived -in its spiritual nature; the ideas concerning -God are empty abstractions; at the -same time the forms which represent Him -bear a character exclusively sensuous and -material. Still plunged in the contemplation -of the sensuous world, having neither -measure nor fixed rule to determine reality, -man exhausts himself in useless efforts -to penetrate the general meaning of the -universe, and can employ, to express the -profoundest thoughts, only rude images -and representations, in which there flashes -out the opposition between the idea and -the form. The imagination passes thus -from one extreme to the other, lifting -itself very high to plunge yet lower, wandering -without support, without guide, and -without aim, in a world of representations -at once imposing, fantastic and grotesque.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Hegel characterizes the Indian mythology, -and the art which corresponds to it, -thus: “In the midst of these abrupt and -inconsiderate leaps, of this passage from -one excess to another, if we find anything -of grandeur and an imposing character in -these conceptions, we see afterwards the -universal being, precipitated into the most -ignoble forms of the sensuous world. The -imagination can escape from this contradiction -only by extending indefinitely the -dimensions of the form. It wanders amid -gigantic creations, characterized by the -absence of all measure, and loses itself in -the vague or the arbitrary.”</p> - -<p class='c006'>Hegel develops and confirms these -propositions, by following the Indian imagination -in the principal points which -distinguish its art, its poetry, and its -mythology. He makes it apparent that, -in spite of the fertility, the splendor, and -the grandeur of these conceptions, the -Indians have never had a clear idea of -persons and events—a faculty for history; -<span class='pageno' id='Page_94'>94</span>that in this continual mingling of the -finite and the infinite, there appears the -complete absence of practical intelligence -and reason. Thought is suffered to run -after the most extravagant and monstrous -chimeras that the imagination can bring -forth. Thus the conception of Brahma is -the abstract idea of being with neither -life nor reality, deprived of real form and -personality. From this idealism pushed -to the extreme, the intelligence precipitates -itself into the most unbridled naturalism. -It deifies objects of nature, the -animals. The divinity appears under the -form of an idiot man, deified because -he belongs to a caste. Each individual, -because he is born in that caste, represents -Brahma in person. The union of -man with God is lowered to the level of a -simply material fact. Thence also the <i>rôle</i> -which the law of the generation of beings -plays in this religion, which gives rise to -the most obscene representations. Hegel, -at the same time, sets forth the contradictions -which swarm in this religion, and -the confusion which reigns in all this -mythology. He establishes a parallel between -the Indian trinity and the Christian -Trinity, and shows their difference. The -three persons of this trinity are not persons; -each of them is an abstraction in -relation to the others; whence it follows -that if this trinity has any analogy with -the Christian Trinity, it is inferior to it, -and we ought to be guarded against recognizing -the Christian tenet in it.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Examining next the part which corresponds -to Greek polytheism, he demonstrates -likewise its inferiority; he makes -apparent the confusion of those innumerable -theogonies and cosmogonies which -contradict and destroy themselves; and -where, in fine, the idea of natural and not -of spiritual generation is uppermost, where -obscenity is frequently pushed to the last -degree. In the Greek fables, in the theogony -of Hesiod in particular, one frequently -obtains at least a glimpse of a moral -meaning. All is more clear and more explicit, -more strongly coherent, and we do -not remain shut up in the circle of the -divinities of nature.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Nevertheless, in refusing to Indian art -the idea of the truly beautiful, and indeed -of the truly sublime, Hegel recognizes -that it offers to us, principally in its poetry, -“scenes of human life, full of attractiveness -and sweetness, many agreeable -images and tender sentiments, most brilliant -descriptions of nature, charming -features of childlike simplicity and artless -innocence in love; at the same time, occasionally, -much grandeur and nobleness.”</p> - -<p class='c006'>But as to that which concerns fundamental -conceptions in their totality, the -spiritual cannot disengage itself from the -sensuous. We encounter the most insipid -triviality in connection with the most elevated -situations—a complete absence of -precision and proportion. The sublime is -only the measureless; and as to whatever -lies at the foundation of the myth, the -imagination, dizzy, and incapable of mastering -the flight of the thought, loses itself -in the fantastic, or brings forth only enigmas -which have no significance for reason.</p> - -<p class='c006'>3. <i>Egyptian Art.</i>—Thus the creations of -the Indian imagination appear to realize -only imperfectly the idea of the symbolic -form itself. It is in Egypt, among the -monuments of Egyptian art, that we find -the type of the true symbol. It is thus -characterized:</p> - -<p class='c006'>In the first stage of art, we started from -the confusion and identity of content and -form, of spirit and nature. Next form and -content are separated and opposed. Imagination -has sought vainly to combine them, -and is successful only in making clear -their disproportion. In order that thought -may be free, it is necessary that it get rid -of its material form—that it destroy it. The -<i>moment</i> of destruction, of negation, or annihilation, -is then necessary in order that -spirit arrive at consciousness of itself and -its spirituality. This idea of death as a -<i>moment</i> of the divine nature is already -contained in the Indian religion; but it is -only a changing, a transformation, and an -abstraction. The gods are annihilated -and pass the one into the other, and all -in their turn into a single being—Brahma, -the universal being. In the Persian religion -the two principles, negative and -positive—Ormuzd and Ahriman—exist separately -and remain separated. Now this -<span class='pageno' id='Page_95'>95</span>principle of negation, of death and resurrection, -as moments and attributes of -the divine nature, constitutes the foundation -of a new religion; this thought is -expressed in it by the forms of its worship, -and appears in all its conceptions -and monuments. It is the fundamental -characteristic of the art and religion of -Egypt. Thus we see the glorification of -death and of suffering, as the annihilation -of sensuous nature, appear in the consciousness -of peoples in the worships of -Asia Minor, of Phrygia and Phoenicia.</p> - -<p class='c006'>But if death is a necessary “moment” in -the life of the absolute, it does not rest in -that annihilation; this is, in order to pass -to a superior existence, to arrive, after the -destruction of visible existence, by resurrection, -at divine immortality. Death is -only the birth of a more elevated principle -and the triumph of spirit.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Henceforth, physical form, in art, loses -its independent value and its separate existence; -still further, the conflict of form -and idea ought to cease. Form is subordinated -to idea. That fermentation of the -imagination which produces the fantastic, -quiets itself and is calm. The previous -conceptions are replaced by a mode of -representation, enigmatic, it is true, but -superior, and which offers to us the true -character of the symbol.</p> - -<p class='c006'>The idea begins to assert itself. On its -side, the symbol takes a form more precise; -the spiritual principle is revealed -more clearly, and frees itself from physical -nature, although it cannot yet appear -in all its clearness.</p> - -<p class='c006'>The following mode of representation -corresponds to this idea of symbolic art: -in the first place, the forms of nature and -human actions express something other -than themselves; they reveal the divine -principle by qualities which are in real -analogy with it. The phenomena and the -laws of nature, which, in the different kingdoms, -represent life, birth, growth, death -and the resurrection of beings, are preferred. -Such are the germination and the -growth of plants, the phases of the course of -the sun, the succession of the seasons, the -phenomena of the increase and decrease of -the Nile, etc. Here, because of the real -resemblance and of natural analogies, the -fantastic is abandoned. One observes a -more intelligent choice of symbolic forms. -There is an imagination which already -knows how to regulate itself and to control -itself—which shows more of calmness -and reason.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Here then appears a higher conciliation -of idea and form, and at the same time an -extraordinary tendency towards art, an -irresistible inclination which is satisfied -in a manner wholly symbolic, but superior -to the previous modes. It is the proper -tendency towards art, and principally towards -the figurative arts. Hence the necessity -of finding and fashioning a form, an -emblem which may express the idea and -may be subordinated to it; of creating a -work which may reveal to spirit a general -conception; of presenting a spectacle which -may show that these forms have been -chosen for the purpose of expressing profound -ideas.</p> - -<p class='c006'>This emblematic or symbolic combination -can be effected in various ways. The -most abstract expression is number. The -symbolism of numbers plays a very important -part in Egyptian art. The sacred -numbers recur unceasingly in flights of -steps, columns, etc. There are, moreover, -symbolic figures traced in space, the windings -of the labyrinth, the sacred dances -which represent the movements of the heavenly -bodies. In a higher grade is placed the -human form, already moulded to a higher -perfection than in India. A general symbol -sums up the principal idea; it is the -phœnix, which consumes itself and rises -from its ashes.</p> - -<p class='c006'>In the myths which serve for the transition, -as those of Asia Minor—in the myth -of Adonis mourned by Venus; in that of -Castor and Pollux, and in the fable of -Proserpine, this idea of death and resurrection -is very apparent.</p> - -<p class='c006'>It is Egypt, above all, which has symbolized -this idea. Egypt is the land of the -symbol. However, the problems are not -resolved. The enigmas of Egyptian art -were enigmas to the Egyptians themselves.</p> - -<p class='c006'>However this may be in the East, the -Egyptians, among eastern nations, are the -truly artistic people. They show an indefatigable -<span class='pageno' id='Page_96'>96</span>activity in satisfying that longing -for symbolic representation which torments -them. But their monuments remain -mysterious and mute. The spirit -has not yet found the form which is appropriate -to it; it does not yet know how -to speak the clear and intelligible language -of spirit. “They were, above all, -an architectural people; they excavated -the soil, scooped out lakes, and, with their -instinct of art, elevated gigantic structures -into the light of day, and executed -under the soil works equally immense. It -was the occupation, the life of this people, -which covered the land with monuments, -nowhere else in so great quantity and under -forms so varied.”</p> - -<p class='c006'>If we wish to characterize in a more precise -manner the monuments of Egyptian -art, and to penetrate the sense of them, -we discover the following aspects:</p> - -<p class='c006'>In the first place, the principal idea, the -idea of death, is conceived as a “moment” -of the life of spirit, not as a principle of -evil; this is the opposite of the Persian dualism. -Nor is there an absorption of beings -into the universal Being, as in the Indian -religion. The invisible preserves its existence -and its personality; it preserves even -its physical form. Hence the embalmings, -the worship of the dead. Moreover, the -imagination is lifted higher than this visible -duration. Among the Egyptians, for -the first time, appears the clear distinction -of soul and body, and the dogma of -immortality. This idea, nevertheless, is -still imperfect, for they accord an equal -importance to the duration of the body and -that of the soul.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Such is the conception which serves as -a foundation for Egyptian art, and which -betrays itself under a multitude of symbolic -forms. It is in this idea that we -must seek the meaning of the works of -Egyptian architecture. Two worlds—the -world of the living and that of the dead; -two architectures—the one on the surface -of the ground, the other subterranean. -The labyrinths, the tombs, and, above all, -the pyramids, represent this idea.</p> - -<p class='c006'>The pyramid, image of symbolic art, is -a species of envelope, cut in crystalline -form, which conceals a mystic object, an -invisible being. Hence, also, the exterior, -superstitious side of worship, an excess -difficult to escape, the adoration of the -divine principle in animals, a gross worship -which is no longer even symbolic.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Hieroglyphic writing, another form of -Egyptian art, is itself in great part symbolic, -since it makes ideas known by -images borrowed from nature, and which -have some analogy with those ideas.</p> - -<p class='c006'>But a defect betrays itself, especially in -the representations of the human form. -In fact, though a mysterious and spiritual -force is there revealed, it is not true personality. -The internal principle fails; -action and impulse come from without. -Such are the statues of Memnon, which -are animate, have a voice, and give forth -a sound, only when struck by the rays of -the sun. It is not the human voice which -comes from within—an echo of the soul. -This free principle which animates the -human form, remains here concealed, -wrapped up, mute, without proper spontaneity, -and is only animated under the influence -of nature.</p> - -<p class='c006'>A superior form is that of the Myth of -Osiris, the Egyptian god, <i>par excellence</i>—that -god who is engendered, born, dies and -is resuscitated. In this myth, which offers -various significations, physical, historical, -moral, and religious or metaphysical, is -shown the superiority of these conceptions -over those of Indian art.</p> - -<p class='c006'>In general, in Egyptian art, there is revealed -a profounder, more spiritual, and -more moral character. The human form -is no longer a simple, abstract personification. -Religion and art attempt to spiritualize -themselves; they do not attain their -object, but they catch sight of it and -aspire to it. From this imperfection -arises the absence of freedom in the human -form. The human figure still remains -without expression, colossal, serious, -rigid. Thus is explained those attitudes -of the Egyptian statues, the arms -stiff, pressed against the body, without -grace, without movement, and without -life, but absorbed in profound thought, -and full of seriousness.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Hence also the complication of the elements -and symbols, which are intermingled -<span class='pageno' id='Page_97'>97</span>and reflected the one in the other; a thing -which indicates the freedom of spirit, but -also an absence of clearness and definiteness. -Hence the obscure, enigmatic character -of those symbols, which always cause -scholars to despair—enigmas to the Egyptians -themselves. These emblems involve -a multitude of profound meanings. They -remain there as a testimony of fruitless -efforts of spirit to comprehend itself, a -symbolism full of mysteries, a vast enigma -represented by a symbol which sums up all -these enigmas—the sphinx. This enigma -Egypt will propose to Greece, who herself -will make of it the problems of religion -and philosophy. The sense of this enigma, -never solved, and yet always solving, is -“Man, <i>know thyself</i>.”—Such is the maxim -which Greece inscribed on the front of her -temples, the problem which she presented -to her sages as the very end of wisdom.</p> - -<p class='c006'>4. <i>Hebrew Poetry.</i>—In this review of -the different forms of art and of worship -among the different nations of the east, -mention should be made of a religion -which is characterized precisely by the -rejection of all symbol, and in this respect -is little favorable to art, but whose poetry -bears the impress of grandeur and sublimity. -And thus Hegel designates Hebrew -Poetry by the title of <i>Art of the Sublime</i>. -At the same time he casts a glance -upon Mahometan pantheism, which also -proscribes images, and banishes from its -temples every figurative representation of -the Divinity.</p> - -<p class='c006'>The sublime, as Kant has well described -it, is the attempt to express the infinite -in the finite, without finding any sensuous -form which is capable of representing -it. It is the infinite, manifested -under a form which, making clear this opposition, -reveals the immeasurable grandeur -of the infinite as surpassing all representation -in finite forms.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Now, here, two points of view are to be -distinguished. Either the infinite is the -Absolute Being conceived by thought, as -the immanent substance of things, or it is -the Infinite Being as distinct from the beings -of the real world, but elevating itself -above them by the entire distance which -separates it from the finite, so that, compared -with it, they are only pure nothing. -God is thus purified from all contact, from -all participation with sensuous existence, -which disappears and is annihilated in his -presence.</p> - -<p class='c006'>To the first point of view corresponds -oriental pantheism. God is there conceived -as the absolute Being, immanent in objects -the most diverse, in the sun, the sea, -the rivers, the trees, etc.</p> - -<p class='c006'>A conception like this cannot be expressed -by the figurative arts, but only by -poetry. Where pantheism is pure, it admits -no sensuous representation and proscribes -images. We find this pantheism -in India. All the superior gods of the Indian -mythology are absorbed in the Absolute -unity, or in Brahm. Oriental pantheism -is developed in a more formal and -brilliant manner in Mahometanism, and in -particular among the Persian Mahometans.</p> - -<p class='c006'>But the truly sublime is that which is -represented by Hebrew poetry. Here, for -the first time, God appears truly as Spirit, -as the invisible Being in opposition to nature. -On the other side, the entire universe, -in spite of the richness and magnificence -of its phenomena, compared with -the Being supremely great, is nothing by -itself. Simple creation of God, subject to -his power, it only exists to manifest and -glorify him.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Such is the idea which forms the ground -of that poetry, the characteristic of which -is sublimity. In the beautiful the idea -pierces through the external reality of -which it is the soul, and forms with it a -harmonious unity. In the sublime, the visible -reality, where the Infinite is manifested, -is abased in its presence. This superiority, -this exaltation of the Infinite -over the finite, the infinite distance which -separates them, is what the art of the sublime -should express. It is religious art—preëminently, -sacred art; its unique design -is to celebrate the glory of God. This -rôle, poetry alone can fill.</p> - -<p class='c006'>The prevailing idea of Hebrew poetry is -God as master of the world, God in his -independent existence and pure essence, -inaccessible to sense and to all sensuous -representation which does not correspond -to his grandeur. God is the Creator of the -<span class='pageno' id='Page_98'>98</span>universe. All gross ideas concerning the -generation of beings give place to that of -a spiritual creation: “Let there be light, -and there was light.” That sentence indicates -a creation by word—expression of -thought and of will.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Creation then takes a new aspect, nature -and man are no longer deified. To -the infinite is clearly opposed the finite, -which is no longer confounded with the -divine principle as in the symbolic conceptions -of other peoples. Situations and -events are delineated more clearly. The -characters assume a more fixed and precise -meaning. They are human figures which -offer no more anything fantastic and -strange; they are perfectly intelligible -and accessible to us.</p> - -<p class='c006'>On the other side, in spite of his powerlessness -and his nothingness, man obtains -here freer and more independent place -than in other religions. The immutable -character of the divine will gives birth to -the idea of law to which man must be subject. -His conduct becomes enlightened, -fixed, regular. The perfect distinction of -human and divine, of finite and infinite, -brings in that of good and evil, and permits -an enlightened choice. Merit and -demerit is the consequence of it. To live -according to justice in the fulfilment of -law is the end of human existence, and it -places man in direct communication with -God. Here is the principle and explanation -of his whole life, of his happiness and -his misery. The events of life are considered -as blessings, as recompenses, or as -trials and chastisements.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Here also appears the miracle. Elsewhere, -all was prodigious, and, by consequence, -nothing was miraculous. The -miracle supposes a regular succession, a -constant order, and an interruption of that -order. But the whole entire creation is a -perpetual miracle, designed for the glorification -and praise of God.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Such are the ideas which are expressed -with so much splendor, elevation and poetry, -in the Psalms—classic examples of -the truly sublime—in the Prophets, and the -sacred books in general. This recognition -of the nothingness of things, of the greatness -and omnipotence of God, of the unworthiness -of man in his presence, the -complaints, the lamentations, the outcry -of the soul towards God, constitute their -pathos and their sublimity.</p> -<h4 class='c012'>Of the Reflex Symbol.</h4> -<p class='c005'><i>Fable, Apologue, Allegory, etc.</i>—We -have run over the different forms which -symbolism presents among the different -people of the East, and we have seen it disappear -in the sublime, which places the -infinite so far above the finite that it can -no longer be represented by sensuous -forms, but only celebrated in its grandeur -and its power.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Before passing to another epoch of art, -Hegel points out, as a transition from the -oriental symbol to the Greek ideal, a mixed -form whose basis is <i>comparison</i>. This -form, which also belongs principally to the -East, is manifested in different kinds of -poetry, such as <i>the fable</i>, <i>the apologue</i>, <i>the -proverb</i>, <i>allegory</i>, and <i>comparison</i>, properly -so-called.</p> - -<p class='c006'>The author develops in the following -manner the nature of this form and the -place which he assigns to it in the development -of art:</p> - -<p class='c006'>In the symbol, properly so-called, the -idea and the form, although distinct and -even opposed, as in the sublime, are reunited -by an essential and necessary tie; -the two elements are not strangers to one -another, and the spirit seizes the relation -immediately. Now the separation of the -two terms, which has already its beginning -in the symbol, ought also to be clearly -effected, and find its place in the development -of art. And as spirit works no -longer spontaneously, but with reflection, -it is also in a reflective manner that it -brings the two terms together. This form -of art, whose basis is comparison, may -be called the <i>reflexive symbolic</i> in opposition -to the <i>irreflexive</i> symbolic, whose -principal forms we have studied.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Thus, in this form of art, the connection -of the two elements is no more, as heretofore, -a connection founded upon the nature -of the idea; it is more or less the result -of an artificial combination which depends -upon the will of the poet, or his -vigor of imagination, and on his genius, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_99'>99</span>for invention. Sometimes it starts from a -sensuous phenomenon to which he lends a -spiritual meaning, an idea, by making use -of some analogy. Sometimes it is an idea -which he seeks to clothe with a sensuous -form, or with an image, by a certain resemblance.</p> - -<p class='c006'>This mode of conception is clear but superficial. -In the East it plays a distinct -part, or appears to prevail as one of the -characteristic traits of oriental thought. -Later, in the grand composition of classic -or romantic poetry, it is subordinated; it -furnishes ornaments and accessories, allegories, -images and metaphors; it constitutes -secondary varieties.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Hegel then divides this form of art, and -classes the varieties to which it gives rise. -He distinguishes, for this purpose, two -points of view: first, the case when the -sensuous fact is presented first to spirit, -and spirit afterwards gives it a signification, -as in the <i>fable</i>, the <i>parable</i>, the <i>apologue</i>, -the <i>proverb</i>, the <i>metamorphoses</i>; -second, the case where, on the other hand, -it is the idea which appears first to the -spirit, and the poet afterwards seeks to -adapt to it an image, a sensuous form, by -way of comparison. Such are the <i>enigma</i>, -the <i>allegory</i>, the <i>metaphor</i>, the <i>image</i>, -and the <i>comparison</i>.</p> - -<p class='c006'>We shall not follow the author in the -developments which he thinks necessary -to give to the analysis of each of these -inferior forms of poetry or art.<a id='r2' /><a href='#f2' class='c015'><sup>[2]</sup></a></p> -<h4 class='c012'>II. Of Classic Art.</h4> -<p class='c005'>The aim of art is to represent the ideal, -that is to say, the perfect accord of the two -elements of the beautiful, the idea and the -sensuous form. Now this object symbolic -art endeavors vainly to attain. Sometimes -it is nature with its blind force which -forms the ground of its representations; -sometimes it is the spiritual Being, which -it conceives in a vague manner, and which -it personifies in inferior divinities. Between -the idea and the form there is revealed -a simple affinity, an external correspondence. -The attempt to reconcile -them makes clearer the opposition; or art, -in wishing to express spirit, only creates -obscure enigmas. Everywhere there is betrayed -the absence of true personality and -of freedom. For these are able to unfold, -only with the clear consciousness of itself -that spirit achieves. We have met, it is -true, this idea of the nature of spirit as -opposed to the sensuous world, clearly expressed -in the religion and poetry of the -Hebrew people. But what is born of this -opposition is not the Beautiful, it is the -Sublime. A living sentiment of personality -is further manifest in the East, in the -Arabic race. In the scorching deserts, in -the midst of free space, it has ever been -distinguished by this trait of independence -and individuality, which betrays itself by -hatred of the stranger, thirst for vengeance, -a deliberate cruelty, also by -love, by greatness of soul and devotion, -and, above all, by passion for adventure. -This race is also distinguished by a mind -free and clear, ingenious and full of subtlety, -lively, brilliant—of which it has given -so many proofs in the arts and sciences. -But we have here only a superficial side, -devoid of profundity and universality; it -is not true personality supported on a solid -basis, on a knowledge of the spirit and of -the moral nature.</p> - -<p class='c006'>All these elements, separate or united, -cannot, then, present the Ideal. They are -antecedents, conditions, and materials, -and, together, offer nothing which corresponds -<span class='pageno' id='Page_100'>100</span>to the idea of real beauty. This -ideal beauty we shall find realized, for the -first time, among the Greek race and in -Classic art, which we now propose to characterize.</p> - -<p class='c006'>In order that the two elements of beauty -may be perfectly harmonized, it is necessary -that the first, the idea, be the spirit -itself, possessed of the consciousness of its -nature and of its free personality. If one -is then asked, what is the form which corresponds -to this idea, which expresses the -personal, individual spirit, the only answer -is, <i>the human form</i>, for it alone is -capable of manifesting spirit.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Classic art, which represents free spirituality -under an individual form, is then -necessarily anthropomorphic. Anthropomorphism -is its very essence, and we shall -do it wrong to make of this a reproach. -Christian art and the Christian religion are -themselves anthropomorphic, and this they -are in a still higher degree since God made -himself really man, since Christ is not a -mere divine personification conceived by -the imagination, since he is both truly God -and truly man. He passed through all the -phases of earthly existence; he was born, -he suffered, and he died. In classic art -sensuous nature does not die, but it has -no resurrection. Thus this religion does -not fully satisfy the human soul. The -Greek ideal has for basis an unchangeable -harmony between the spirit and the sensuous -form, the unalterable serenity of the -immortal gods; but this calm is somewhat -frigid and inanimate. Classic art did not -take in the true essence of the divine nature, -nor penetrate the depths of the soul. -It could not unveil the innermost powers in -their opposition, or re-establish their harmony. -All this phase of existence, wickedness, -misfortune, moral suffering, the revolt -of the will, gnawings and rendings of -the soul, were unknown to it. It did not -pass beyond the proper domain of sensuous -beauty; but it represented it perfectly.</p> - -<p class='c006'>This ideal of classic beauty was realized -by the Greeks. The most favorable conditions -for unfolding it were found combined -among them. The geographical position, -the genius of that people, its moral character, -its political life, all could not but -aid the accomplishment of that idea of -classic beauty, whose characteristics are -proportion, measure, and harmony. Placed -between Asia and Europe, Greece realized -the accord of personal liberty and public -manners, of the State and the individual, -of spirit general and particular. Its genius, -a mixture of spontaneity and reflection, presented -an equal fusion of contraries. The -feeling of this auspicious harmony pierces -through all the productions of the Greek -mind. It was the moment of youth in the -life of humanity—a fleeting age, a moment -unique and irrevocable, like that of beauty -in the individual.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Art attains then the culminating point of -sensuous beauty under the form of plastic -individuality. The worship of the Beautiful -is the entire life of the Greek race. -Thus religion and art are identified. All -forms of Greek civilization are subordinate -to art.</p> - -<p class='c006'>It is important here to determine the -new position of the artist in the production -of works of art.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Art appears here not as a production of -nature, but as a creation of the individual -spirit. It is the work of a free spirit which -is conscious of itself, which is self-possessed, -which has nothing vague or obscure in -its thought, and finds itself hindered by no -technical difficulty.</p> - -<p class='c006'>This new position of the Greek artist -manifests itself in content, form, and technical -skill.</p> - -<p class='c006'>With regard to the content, or the ideas -which it ought to represent, in opposition -to symbolic art, where the spirit gropes -and seeks without power to arrive at a -clear notion, the artist finds the idea already -made in the dogma, the popular -faith, and a complete, precise idea, of -which he renders to himself an account. -Nevertheless, he does not enslave himself -with it; he accepts it, but reproduces it -freely. The Greek artists received their -subjects from the popular religion; which -was an idea originally transmitted from the -East, but already transformed in the consciousness -of the people. They, in their -turn, transformed it into the sense of the -beautiful; they both reproduced and created -it.</p> - -<p class='c006'><span class='pageno' id='Page_101'>101</span>But it is above all upon the form that -this free activity concentrates and exercises -itself. While symbolic art wearies itself -in seeking a thousand extraordinary -forms to represent its ideas, having neither -measure nor fixed rule, the Greek artist -confines himself to his subject, the limits -of which he respects. Then between the -content and the form he establishes a perfect -harmony, for, in elaborating the form, -he also perfects the content. He frees -them both from useless accessories, in order -to adapt the one to the other. Henceforth -he is not checked by an immovable and -traditional type; he perfects the whole; -for content and form are inseparable; he -develops both in the serenity of inspiration.</p> - -<p class='c006'>As to the technical element, ability combined -with inspiration belongs to the classic -artist in the highest degree. Nothing -restrains or embarrasses him. Here are -no hindrances as in a stationary religion, -where the forms are consecrated by usage; -in Egypt, for example. And this ability -is always increasing. Progress in the processes -of art is necessary to the realization -of pure beauty, and the perfect execution -of works of genius.</p> - -<p class='c006'>After these general considerations upon -classic art, Hegel studies it more in detail. -He considers it 1st, in its development; 2d, -in itself, as realization of the ideal; 3d, -in the causes which have produced its -downfall.</p> - -<p class='c006'>1. In what concerns the development -of Greek art, the author dwells long upon -the history and progress of mythology. -This is because religion and art are confused. -The central point of Greek art is -Olympus and its beautiful divinities.</p> - -<p class='c006'>The following are what are, according -to Hegel, the principal stages of the development -of art, and of the Greek mythology.</p> - -<p class='c006'>The first stage of progress consists in a -reaction against the Symbolic form, which -it is interested in destroying. The Greek -Gods came from the East; the Greeks borrowed -their divinities from foreign religions. -On the other hand, we can say they -invented them: for invention does not exclude -borrowing. They transformed the -ideas contained in the anterior traditions. -Now upon what had this transformation -any bearing? In it is the history of polytheism -and antique art, which follows a -parallel course, and is inseparable from it.</p> - -<p class='c006'>The Grecian divinities are, first of all, -moral personages invested with the human -form. The first development consists, then, -in rejecting those gross symbols, which, in -the oriental naturalism, form the object of -worship, and which disfigure the representations -of art. This progress is marked -by the degradation of the animal kingdom. -It is clearly indicated in a great number -of ceremonies and fables of polytheism, -by sacrifices of animals, sacred hunts, and -many of the exploits attributed to heroes, -in particular the labors of Hercules. Some -of the fables of Æsop have the same meaning. -The metamorphoses of Ovid are also -disfigured myths, or fables become burlesque, -of which the content, easy to be -recognized, contains the same idea.</p> - -<p class='c006'>This is the opposite of the manner in -which the Egyptians considered animals. -Nature, here, in place of being venerated -and adored, is lowered and degraded. To -wear an animal form is no longer deification; -it is the punishment of a monstrous -crime. The gods themselves are shamed -by such a form, and they assume it only to -satisfy the passions of the sensual nature. -Such is the signification of many of the -fables of Jupiter, as those of Danaë, of -Europa, of Leda, of Ganymede. The representation -of the generative principle in -nature, which constitutes the content of -the ancient mythologies, is here changed -into a series of histories where the father -of gods and men plays a rôle but little -edifying, and frequently ridiculous. Finally, -all that part of religion which relates -to sensual desires is crowded into the -background, and represented by subordinate -divinities: Circe, who changes men -into swine; Pan, Silenus, the Satyrs and -the Fauns. The human form predominates, -the animal being barely indicated by ears, -by little horns, etc.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Another advance is to be noted in the -<i>oracles</i>. The phenomena of nature, in -place of being an object of admiration and -worship, are only signs by which the gods -<span class='pageno' id='Page_102'>102</span>make known their will to mortals. These -prophetic signs become more and more -simple, till at last it is, above all, the voice -of man which is the organ of the oracle. -The oracle is ambiguous, so that the man -who receives it is obliged to interpret it, -to blend his reason with it. In dramatic -art, for example, man does not act solely -by himself; he consults the gods, he obeys -their will; but his will is confounded with -theirs; a place is reserved for his liberty.</p> - -<p class='c006'>The distinction between the <i>old</i> and the -<i>new</i> divinities marks still more this progress -of moral liberty. Among the former, -who personify the powers of nature, a -gradation is already established. In the -first place, the untamed and lower powers, -Chaos, Tartarus, Erebus; then Uranus, -Gea, the Giants and the Titans; in a higher -rank, Prometheus, at first the friend of -the new gods, the benefactor of men, then -punished by Jupiter for that apparent beneficence; -an inconsequence which is explained -through this, that if Prometheus -taught industry to men, he created an occasion -of discords and dissensions, by not -giving them instruction more elevated,—morality, -the science of government, the -guarantees of property. Such is the profound -sense of that myth, and Plato thus -explains it in his dialogues.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Another class of divinities equally ancient, -but already ethical, although they -recall the fatality of the physical laws, are -the Eumenides, Dice, and the Furies. We -see appearing here the ideas of right and -justice, but of exclusive, absolute, strict, -unconscious right, under the form of an -implacable vengeance, or, like the ancient -Nemesis, of a power which abases all that -is high, and re-establishes equality by levelling; -a thing which is the opposite of true -justice.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Finally, this development of the classic -ideal reveals itself more clearly in the <i>theogony</i> -and <i>genealogy</i> of the gods, in their -origin and their succession, by the abasement -of the divinities of the previous -races; in the hostility which flashes out -between them, in the resolution which has -carried away the sovereignty from the old -to place it in the hands of the new divinities. -Meanwhile the distinction develops -itself to the point of engendering strife, -and the conflict becomes the principal -event of mythology.</p> - -<p class='c006'>This conflict is that of nature and spirit, -and it is the law of the world. Under -the historic form, it is the perfecting of -human nature, the successive conquest of -rights and property, the amelioration of -laws and of the political constitution. In -the religious representations, it is the triumph -of the moral divinities over the powers -of nature.</p> - -<p class='c006'>This combat is announced as the grandest -catastrophe in the history of the world: -moreover, this is not the subject of a particular -myth; it is the principal, decisive -fact, which constitutes the centre of this -mythology.</p> - -<p class='c006'>The conclusion of all this in respect to -the history of art and to the development -of the ideal, is that art ought to act like -mythology, and reject as unworthy all that -is purely physical or animal, that which is -confused, fantastic, or obscure, all gross -mingling of the material and the spiritual. -All these creations of an ill-regulated imagination -find here no more place; they -must flee before the light of the Soul. Art -purifies itself of all caprice, fancy, or symbolic -accessory, of every vague and confused -idea.</p> - -<p class='c006'>In like manner, the new gods form an -organized and established world. This -unity affirms and perfects itself more in -the later developments of plastic art and -poetry.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Nevertheless, the old elements, driven -back by the accession of moral forces, preserve -a place at their side, or are combined -with them. Such is, for example, the significance -and the aim of the mysteries.</p> - -<p class='c006'>In the new divinities, who are ethical -persons, there remains also an echo, a reflex -of the powers of nature. They present, -consequently, a combination of the -physical and the ethical element, but the -first is subordinate to the second. Thus, -Neptune is the sea, but he is besides invoked -as the god of navigation and the -founder of cities; Apollo is the Sun, the -god of light, but he is also the god of spiritual -light, of science and of the oracles. -In Jupiter, Diana, Hercules, and Venus, it -<span class='pageno' id='Page_103'>103</span>is easy to discover the physical side combined -with the moral sense.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Thus, in the new divinities, the elements -of nature, after having been debased -and degraded, reappear and are -preserved. This is also true of the -forms of the animal kingdom; but the -symbolic sense is more and more lost. -They figure no longer as accessories combined -with the human form; but are reduced -to mere emblems or attributes—indicating -signs, as the eagle by the side of -Jupiter, the peacock before Juno, the dove -near Venus, where the principal myth is -no more than an accidental fact, of little -importance in the life of the god, and -which, abandoned to the imagination of the -poets, becomes the text of licentious histories.</p> - -<p class='c006'>2. After having considered the development -of the ideal in Greek art, a development -parallel to that of religion and mythology, -we have to consider it in its -principal characteristics, such as it has -emanated from the creative activity or -from the imagination of the poet and the -artist.</p> - -<p class='c006'>This mythology has its origin in the previous -religions, but its gods are the creation -of Homer and Hesiod. Tradition furnished -the materials; but the idea which -each god ought to represent, and, besides, -the form which expresses it in its purity -and simplicity—this is what was not given. -This ideal type the poets drew from their -genius, discovering also the true form -which befitted it. Thereby they were creators -of that mythology which we admire -in Greek art, and which is confounded -with it.</p> - -<p class='c006'>The Greek gods have no less their origin -in the spirit and the credences of the -Greek people, and in the national belief; -the poets were the interpreters of the general -thought, of what there was most elevated -in the imagination of the people. -Henceforth, the artist, as we have seen -above, takes a position wholly different -from that which he held in the East. His -inspiration is personal. His work is that of -a free imagination, creating according to -its own conceptions. The inspiration does -not come from without; what they reveal -is the ideas of the human spirit, what -there is deepest in the heart of man. Also, -the artists are truly poets; they fashion, -according to their liking, the content and -the form, in order to draw from them free -and original figures. Tradition is shorn, -in their hands, of all that is gross, -symbolic, repulsive, and deformed; they -eliminate the idea which they wish to -illustrate, and individualize it under the -human form. Such is the manner, free, -though not arbitrary, in which the Greek -artists proceed in the creation of their -works.</p> - -<p class='c006'>They are poets, but also prophets and -diviners. They represent human actions -in divine actions, and, reciprocally, without -having the clear and decided distinctions. -They maintain the union, the accord, -of the human and the divine. Such is -the significance of the greater part of the -apparitions of the gods in Homer, when -the gods, for example, consult the heroes, -or interfere in the combats.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Meanwhile, if we wish to understand the -<i>nature of this ideal</i>, to determine, in a -more precise manner, the character of the -divinities of Greek art, the following remarks -are suggested, considering them, at -the same time, on the <i>general</i>, the <i>particular</i>, -and the <i>individual</i> sides.</p> - -<p class='c006'>The first attribute which distinguishes -them is something general, substantial. -The immortal gods are strangers to the -miseries and to the agitations of human -existence. They enjoy an unalterable -calmness and serenity, from which they -derive their repose and their majesty. They -are not, however, vague abstractions, universal -and purely ideal existences. To this -character of generality is joined individuality. -Each divinity has his traits and -proper physiognomy, his particular rôle, -his sphere of activity, determined and limited. -A just measure, moreover, is here -observed: the two elements, the general -and the individual, are in perfect accord.</p> - -<p class='c006'>At the same time, this moral character -is manifested under an external and corporeal -form itself, its most perfect expression, -in which appears the harmonious fusion -of the external form with the internal -principle animating it.</p> - -<p class='c006'><span class='pageno' id='Page_104'>104</span>This physical form, as well as the spiritual -principle which is manifested in it, is -freed from all the accidents of material -life, and from the miseries of finite existence. -It is the human body with its beautiful -proportions and their harmony; all -announces beauty, liberty, grace. It is -thus that this form, in its purity, corresponds -to the spiritual and divine principle -which is incarnate in it. Hence the -nobleness, the grandeur, and the elevation -of those figures, which have nothing in -common with the wants of material life, -and seem elevated above their bodily existence. -They are immortal divinities with -human features. The body, in spite of its -beauty, appears as a superfluous appendage; -and, nevertheless, it is an animated -and living form which presents the indestructible -harmony of the two principles, -the soul and the body.</p> - -<p class='c006'>But a contradiction presents itself between -the spirit and the material form. -This harmonious whole conceals a principle -of destruction which will make itself -felt more and more. We may perceive in -these figures an air of sadness in the midst -of greatness. Though absorbed in themselves, -calm and serene, they lack freedom -from care and inward satisfaction; something -cold and impassive is found in their -features, especially if we compare them -with the vivacity of modern sentiment. -This divine peace, this indifference to all -that is mortal and transient, forms a contrast -with the moral greatness and the corporeal -form. These placid divinities complain -both of their felicity and of their -physical existence. We read upon their -features the destiny which weighs them -down.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Now, what is the particular art most appropriate -to represent this ideal? Evidently -it is <i>sculpture</i>. It alone is capable -of showing us those ideal figures in their -eternal repose, of expressing the perfect -harmony of the spiritual principle and the -sensuous form. To it has been confided -the mission of realizing this ideal in its -purity, its greatness, and its perfection.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Poetry, above all, dramatic poetry, which -makes the gods act, and draws them into -strife and combat contrary to their greatness -and their dignity, is much less capable -of answering this purpose.</p> - -<p class='c006'>If we consider these divinities in their -particular, and no longer in their general -character, we see that they form a plurality, -a whole, a totality, which is <i>polytheism</i>. -Each particular god, while having his proper -and original character, is himself a complete -whole; he also possesses the distinctive -qualities of the other divinities. -Hence the richness of these characters. It -is for this reason that the Greek polytheism -does not present a systematic whole. -Olympus is composed of a multitude of -distinct gods, who do not form an established -hierarchy. Rank is not rigorously -fixed, whence the liberty, the serenity, the -independence of the personages. Without -this apparent contradiction, the divinities -would be embarrassed by one another, -shackled in their development and power. -In place of being true persons, they would -be only allegorical beings, or personified -abstractions.</p> - -<p class='c006'>As to their sensuous representation, -sculpture is, moreover, the art best adapted -to express this particular characteristic -of the nature of the gods. By combining -with immovable grandeur the individuality -of features peculiar to each of them, it fixes -in their statues the most perfect expression -of their character, and determines its -definite form. Sculpture, here again, is -more ideal than poetry. It offers a more -determined and fixed form, while poetry -mingles with it a crowd of actions, of histories -and accidental particulars. Sculpture -creates absolute and eternal models; -it has fixed the type of true, classic beauty, -which is the basis of all other productions -of Greek genius, and is here the central -point of art.</p> - -<p class='c006'>But in order to represent the gods in -their true <i>individuality</i>, it does not suffice -to distinguish them by certain particular -attributes. Moreover, classic art does not -confine itself to representing these personages -as immovable and self-absorbed; it -shows them also in movement and in action. -The character of the gods then particularizes -itself, and exhibits the special -features of which the physiognomy of each -god is composed. This is the accidental, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_105'>105</span>positive, historic side, which figures in -mythology and also in art, as an accessory -but necessary element.</p> - -<p class='c006'>These materials are furnished by history -or fable. They are the antecedents, the -local particulars, which give to the gods -their living individuality and originality. -Some are borrowed from the symbolic religions, -which preserve a vestige thereof in -the new creation; the symbolic element is -absorbed in the new myth. Others have a -national origin, which, again, is connected -with heroic times and foreign traditions. -Others, finally, spring from local circumstances, -relating to the propagation of the -myths, to their formation, to the usages -and ceremonies of worship, etc. All these -materials fashioned by art, give to the -Greek gods the appearance, the interest, -and the charm, of living humanity. But -this traditional side, which in its origin -had a symbolic sense, loses it little by little; -it is designed only to complete the individuality -of the gods, to give to them a -more human and more sensuous form, to -add, through details frequently unworthy -of divine majesty, the side of the arbitrary -and accidental. Sculpture, which represents -the pure ideal, ought, without wholly -excluding it in fact, to allow it to appear -as little as possible; it represents it as -accessory in the head-dress, the arms, the -ornaments, the external attributes. Another -source for the more precise determination -of the character of the gods is -their intervention in the actions and circumstances -of human life. Here the imagination -of the poet expands itself as an -inexhaustible source in a crowd of particular -histories, of traits of character and -actions, attributed to the gods. The problem -of art consists in combining, in a -natural and living manner, the actions of -divine personages and human actions, in -such a manner that the gods appear as the -general cause of what man himself accomplishes. -The gods, thus, are the internal -principles which reside in the depths of the -human soul; its own passions, in so far as -they are elevated, and its personal thought; -or it is the necessity of the situation, the -force of circumstances, from whose fatal -action man suffers. It is this which pierces -through all the situations where Homer -causes the gods to intervene, and through -the manner in which they influence events.</p> - -<p class='c006'>But through this side, the gods of classic -art abandon, more and more, the silent -serenity of the ideal, to descend into the -multiplicity of individual situations, of -actions, and into the conflict of human -passions. Classic art thus finds itself -drawn to the last degree of individualization; -it falls into the agreeable and the -graceful. The divine is absorbed in the -finite which is addressed exclusively to the -sensibility and no longer satisfies thought. -Imagination and art, seizing this side and -exaggerating it more and more, corrupt -religion itself. The severe ideal gives -place to merely sensuous beauty and harmony; -it removes itself more and more -from the eternal ideas which form the -ground of religion and art, and these are -dragged down to ruin.</p> - -<p class='c006'>3. In fact, independently of the external -causes which have occasioned the <i>decadence</i> -of Greek art and precipitated its -downfall, many internal causes, in the -very nature of the Greek ideal, rendered -that downfall inevitable. In the first place, -the Greek gods, as we have seen, bear in -themselves the germ of their destruction, -and the defect which they conceal is unveiled -by the representations of classic art -itself. The plurality of the gods and their -diversity makes them already accidental -existences; this multiplicity cannot satisfy -reason. Thought dissolves them and makes -them return to a single divinity. Moreover, -the gods do not remain in their eternal -repose; they enter into action, take -part in the interests, in the passions, and -mingle in the collisions of human life. -The multitude of relations in which they -are engaged, as actors in this drama, destroys -their divine majesty; contradicts -their grandeur, their dignity, their beauty. -In the true ideal itself, that of sculpture, -we observe something, the inanimate, impassive, -cold, a serious air of silent mournfulness, -which indicates that something -higher weighs them down—destiny, supreme -unity, blind divinity, the immutable -fate to which gods and men are alike -subject.</p> - -<p class='c006'><span class='pageno' id='Page_106'>106</span>But the principal cause is, that absolute -necessity making no integral part of their -personality, and being foreign to them, the -particular individual side is no longer restrained -in its downward course; it is developed -more and more without hindrance -and without limit. They suffer themselves -to be drawn into the external accidents of -human life, and fall into all the imperfections -of anthropomorphism. Hence the -ruin of these beautiful divinities of art is -inevitable. The moral consciousness turns -away from them and rejects them. The -gods, it is true, are ethical persons, but -under the human and corporeal form. Now, -true morality appears only in the conscience, -and under a purely spiritual form. -The point of view of the beautiful is neither -that of religion nor that of morality. The -infinite, invisible spirituality is the divine -for the religious consciousness. For the -moral consciousness, the good is an idea, -a conception, an obligation, which commands -the sacrifice of sense. It is in vain, -then, to be enthusiastic over Greek art and -beauty, to admire those beautiful divinities. -The soul does not recognize herself -wholly in the object of her contemplation -or her worship. What she conceives as -the true ideal is a God, spiritual, infinite, -absolute, personal, endowed with moral -qualities, with justice, goodness, etc.</p> - -<p class='c006'>It is this whose image the gods of Greek -polytheism, in spite of their beauty, do -not present us.</p> - -<p class='c006'>As to the <i>transition</i> from the Greek -mythology to a new religion and a new -art, it could no longer be effected in the -domain of the imagination. In the origin -of Greek art, the transition appears under -the form of a conflict between the old and -the new gods, in the very domain of art -and imagination. Here it is upon the more -serious territory of history that this revolution -is accomplished. The new idea appears, -not as a revelation of art, nor under -the form of myth and of fable, but in -history itself, by the course of events, by -the appearance of God himself upon earth, -where he was born, lived, and arose from -the dead. Here is a field of ideas which -Art did not invent, and which it finds -too high for it. The gods of classic art -have existence only in the imagination; -they were visible only in stone and wood; -they were not both flesh and spirit. This -real existence of God in flesh and spirit, -Christianity, for the first time, showed in -the life and actions of a God present among -men. This transition cannot, then, be accomplished -in the domain of art, because -the God of revealed religion is the real -and living God. Compared with him, his -adversaries are only imaginary beings, -who cannot be taken seriously and meet -him on the field of history. The opposition -and conflict cannot, then, present the character -of a serious strife, and be represented -as such by Art or Poetry. Therefore, -always, whenever any one has attempted -to make of this subject, among moderns, -a poetic theme, he has done it in an impious -and frivolous manner, as in “The War -of the Gods,” by Parny.</p> - -<p class='c006'>On the other hand, it would be useless -to regret, as has been frequently done in -prose and in verse, the loss of the Greek -ideal and pagan mythology, as being more -favorable to art and poetry than the Christian -faith, to which is granted a higher -moral verity, while it is regarded as inferior -in respect to art and the Beautiful.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Christianity has a poetry and an art of -its own; an ideal essentially different from -the Greek ideal and art. Here all parallel -is superficial. Polytheism is anthropomorphism. -The gods of Greece are beautiful -divinities under the human form. As -soon as reason has comprehended God as -Spirit and as Infinite Being, there appear -other ideas, other sentiments, other demands, -which ancient art is incapable of -satisfying, to which it cannot attain, which -call, consequently, for a new art, a new -poetry. Thus, regrets are superfluous; -comparison has no more any significance, -it is only a text for declamation. What -one could object to seriously in Christianity, -its tendencies to mysticism, to asceticism, -which, in fact, are hostile to art, are -only exaggerations of its principle. But -the thought which constitutes the ground -of Christianity, and true Christian sentiment, -far from being opposed to art, are -very favorable to it. Hence springs up a -new art, inferior, it is true, in certain respects, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_107'>107</span>to antique art—in sculpture, for -example—but which is superior in other -respects, as is its idea when compared with -the pagan idea.</p> - -<p class='c006'>In all this, we are making but a <i>resumé</i> -of the ideas of the author. We must do -him the justice to say, that wherever he -speaks of Christian art, he does it worthily, -and exhibits a spirit free from all sectarian -prejudice.</p> - -<p class='c006'>If we cast, meanwhile, a glance at the -external causes which have brought about -this decadence, it is easy to discover them -in the situations of ancient society, which -prophesy the downfall of both art and -religion. We discover the vices of that -social order where the state was everything, -the individual nothing by himself. -This is the radical vice of the Greek state. -In such an identification of man and the -state, the rights of the individual are -ignored. The latter, then, seeks to open -for himself a distinct and independent -way, separates himself from the public -interest, pursues his own ends, and finally -labors for the ruin of the state. Hence -the egoism which undermines this society -little by little, and the ever-increasing excesses -of demagoguism.</p> - -<p class='c006'>On the other hand, there arises in the -souls of the best a longing for a higher -freedom in a state organized upon the -basis of justice and right. In the meantime -man falls back upon himself, and -deserting the written law, religious and -civil, takes his conscience for the rule of -his acts. Socrates marks the advent of -this idea. In Rome, in the last years of -the republic, there appears, among energetic -spirits, this antagonism and this detachment -from society. Noble characters -present to us the spectacle of private virtues -by the side of feebleness and corruption -in public morals.</p> - -<p class='c006'>This protest of moral consciousness -against the increasing corruption finds expression -in art itself; it creates a form of -poetry which corresponds to it, <i>satire</i>.</p> - -<p class='c006'>According to Hegel, <i>satire</i>, in fact, belongs -peculiarly to the Romans; it is at -least the distinctive and original characteristic, -the salient feature, of their poetry -and literature. “The spirit of the Roman -world is the dominance of the dead letter, -the destruction of beauty, the absence of -serenity in manners, the ebbing of the -domestic and natural affections—in general, -the sacrifice of individuality, which -devotes itself to the state, the tranquil -greatness in obedience to law. The principle -of this political virtue, in its frigid -and austere rudeness, subdued national -individualities abroad, while at home the -law was developed with the same rigor -and the same exactitude of forms, even to -the point of attaining perfection. But this -principle was contrary to true art. So one -finds at Rome no art which presents a character -of beauty, of liberty, of grandeur. -The Romans received and learned from -the Greeks sculpture, painting, music, -epic lyric and dramatic poetry. What is -regarded as indigenous among them is the -comic farces, the <i>fescennines</i> and <i>atellanes</i>. -The Romans can claim as belonging to -them in particular only the forms of art -which, in their principle, are prosaic, such -as the didactic poem. But before all we -must place satire.”</p> -<h4 class='c012'>III. Of Romantic Art.</h4> -<p class='c005'>This expression, employed here to designate -modern art, in its opposition to Greek -or classic art, bears nothing of the unfavorable -sense which it has in our language -and literature, where it has become -the synonym of a liberty pushed even to -license, and of a contempt for all law. -Romantic art, which, in its highest development, -is also Christian art, has laws and -principles as necessary as classic art. But -the idea which it expresses being different, -its conditions are also; it obeys other -rules, while observing those that are the -basis of all art and the very essence of the -beautiful.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Hegel, in a general manner, thus characterizes -this form of art, contrasting it -with antique art, the study of which we -have just left.</p> - -<p class='c006'>In classic art, the spirit constitutes the -content of the representation; but it is -combined with the sensuous or material -form in such a manner that it is harmonized -perfectly with it, and does not surpass -it. Art reached its perfection when it accomplished -<span class='pageno' id='Page_108'>108</span>this happy accord, when the -spirit idealized nature and made of it a -faithful image of itself. It is thus that -classic art was the perfect representation -of the ideal, the reign of beauty.</p> - -<p class='c006'>But there is something higher than the -beautiful manifestation of spirit under the -sensuous form. The spirit ought to abandon -this accord with nature, to retire into -itself, to find the true harmony in its own -world, the spiritual world of the soul and -the conscience. Now, that development -of the spirit, which not being able to -satisfy itself in the world of sense, seeks -a higher harmony in itself, is the fundamental -principle of romantic art.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Here beauty of form is no longer the -supreme thing; beauty, in this sense, remains -something inferior, subordinate; it -gives place to the spiritual beauty which -dwells in the recesses of the soul, in the -depths of its infinite nature.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Now in order thus to take possession of -itself, it is essential that spirit have a consciousness -of its relation to God, and of -its union with Him; that not only the divine -principle reveal itself under a form -true and worthy of it, but that the human -soul, on its part, lift itself toward God, -that it feel itself filled with His essence, -that the Divinity descend into the bosom -of humanity. The anthropomorphism of -Greek thought ought to disappear, in order -to give place to anthropomorphism of a -higher order.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Hence all the divinities of polytheism -will be absorbed in a single Deity. God -has no longer anything in common with -those individual personages who had their -attributes and their distinct rôles, and -formed a whole, free, although subject to -destiny.</p> - -<p class='c006'>At the same time God does not remain -shut up in the depths of his being; he -appears in the real world also; he opens -his treasures and unfolds them in creation. -He is, notwithstanding, revealed less in -nature than in the moral world, or that of -liberty. In fine, God is not an ideal, created -by the imagination; he manifests -himself under the features of living humanity.</p> - -<p class='c006'>If we compare, in this respect, romantic -art with classic art, we see that Sculpture -no longer suffices to express this idea. We -should vainly seek in the image of the -gods fashioned by sculpture that which announces -the true personality, the clear -consciousness of self and reflected will. -In the external this defect is betrayed by -the absence of the eye, that mirror of the -soul. Sculpture is deprived of the glance, -the ray of the soul emanating from within. -On the other hand, the spirit entering -into relation with external objects, this -immobility of sculpture no longer responds -to the longing for activity, which calls for -exercise in a more extended career. The -representation ought to embrace a vaster -field of objects, and of physical and moral -situations.</p> - -<p class='c006'>As to the manner in which this principle -is developed and realized, romantic art -presents certain striking differences from -antique art.</p> - -<p class='c006'>In the first place, as has been said, instead -of the ideal divinities, which exist -only for the imagination, and are only human -nature idealized, it is God himself -who makes himself man, and passes -through all the phases of human life, birth, -suffering, death, and resurrection. Such -is the fundamental idea which art represents, -even in the circle of religion.</p> - -<p class='c006'>The result of this religious conception -is to give also to art, as the principal -ground of its representations, strife, conflict, -sorrow and death, the profound grief -which the nothingness of life, physical -and moral suffering, inspire. Is not all -this, in fact, an essential part of the history -of the God-Man, who must be presented -as a model to humanity? Is it not -the means of being drawn near to God, of -resembling him, and of being united to -him? Man ought then to strip off his -finite nature, to renounce that which is a -mere nothing, and, through this negation -of the real life, propose to himself the -attainment of what God realized in his -mortal life.</p> - -<p class='c006'>The infinite sorrow of this sacrifice, this -idea of suffering and of death, which were -almost banished from classic art, find, for -the first time, their necessary place in -Christian art. Among the Greeks death -<span class='pageno' id='Page_109'>109</span>has no seriousness, because man attaches -no great importance to his personality and -his spiritual nature. On the other hand, -now that the soul has an infinite value, -death becomes terrible. Terror in the -presence of death and the annihilation of -our being, is imprinted strongly on our -souls. So also among the Greeks, especially -before the time of Socrates, the idea -of immortality was not profound; they -scarcely conceived of life as separable from -physical existence. In the Christian faith, -on the contrary, death is only the resurrection -of the spirit, the harmony of the soul -with itself, the true life. It is only by -freeing itself from the bonds of its earthly -existence that it can enter upon the possession -of its true nature.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Such are the principal ideas which form -the religious ground of romantic or Christian -Art. In spite of some explanations -which recall the special system of the author, -one cannot deny that they are expressed -with power and truthfulness.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Meanwhile, beyond the religious sphere, -there are developing certain interests -which belong to the mundane life, and -which form also the object of the representations -of art; they are the passions, -the collisions, the joys and the sufferings -which bear a terrestrial or purely human -character, but in which appear notwithstanding -the very principle which distinguishes -modern thought, to-wit: a more -vivid, more energetic, and more profound -sentiment of human <i>personality</i>, or, as the -author calls it, <i>subjectivity</i>.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Romantic art differs no less from classic -art in the form or the mode of representation, -than in the ideas which constitute -the content of its works. And, in the first -place, one necessary consequence of the -preceding principle is, the new point of -view under which nature or the physical -world is viewed. The objects of nature -lose their importance; or, at least, they -cease to be divine. They have neither the -symbolic signification which oriental art -gave them, nor the particular aspect in -virtue of which they were animated and -personified in Greek art and mythology. -Nature is effaced; she retires to a lower -plane; the universe is condensed to a single -point, in the focus of the human soul. -That, absorbed in a single thought, the -thought of uniting itself to God, beholds -the world vanish, or regards it with an indifferent -eye. We see also appearing a -heroism wholly different from antique heroism, -a heroism of submission and resignation.</p> - -<p class='c006'>But, on the other hand, precisely through -the very fact, that all is concentrated in -the focus of the human soul, the circle of -ideas is found to be infinitely enlarged. -The interior history of the soul is developed -under a thousand diverse forms, borrowed -from human life. It beams forth, -and art seizes anew upon nature, which -serves as adornment and as a theatre for -the activity of the spirit. Hence the history -of the human heart becomes infinitely -richer than it was in ancient art and poetry. -The increasing multitude of situations, -of interests, and of passions, forms -a domain as much more vast as spirit has -descended farther into itself. All degrees, -all phases of life, all humanity and its developments, -become inexhaustible material -for the representations of art.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Nevertheless, art occupies here only a -secondary place; as it is incapable of revealing -the content of the dogma, religion -constitutes still more its essential basis. -There is therefore preserved the priority -and superiority which faith claims over -the conceptions of the imagination.</p> - -<p class='c006'>From this there results an important -consequence and a characteristic difference -for modern art. It is that in the representation -of sensuous forms, art no longer -fears to admit into itself the real with its -imperfections and its faults. The beautiful -is no longer the essential thing; the -ugly occupies a much larger place in -its creations. Here, then, vanishes that -ideal beauty which elevates the forms of -the real world above the mortal condition, -and replaces it with blooming youth. -This free vitality in its infinite calmness—this -divine breath which animates matter—romantic -art has no longer, for essential -aim, to represent these. On the contrary, -it turns its back on this culminating point -of classic beauty; it accords, indeed, to -the ugly a limitless rôle in its creations. -<span class='pageno' id='Page_110'>110</span>It permits all objects to pass into representation -in spite of their accidental character. -Nevertheless, those objects which -are indifferent or commonplace, have value -only so far as the sentiments of the soul -are reflected in them. But at the highest -point of its development art expresses only -spirit—pure, invisible spirituality. We -feel that it seeks to strip itself of all external -forms, to mount into a region superior -to sense, where nothing strikes the -eye, where no sound longer vibrates upon -the ear.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Furthermore, we can say, on comparing -in this respect ancient with modern art, -that the fundamental trait of romantic or -Christian art is the musical element, the -lyric accent in poetry. The lyric accent -resounds everywhere, even in epic and -dramatic poetry. In the figurative arts -this characteristic makes itself felt, as a -breath of the soul and an atmosphere of -feeling.</p> - -<p class='c006'>After having thus determined the general -character of romantic art, Hegel studies -it more in detail; he considers it, successively, -under a two-fold point of view, the -religious and the profane; he follows it in -its development, and points out the causes -which have brought about its decadence. -He concludes by some considerations upon -the present state of art and its future.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Let us analyze rapidly the principal ideas -contained in these chapters.</p> - -<p class='c006'>1st. As to what concerns the religious -side, which we have thus far been considering, -Hegel, developing its principle, establishes -a parallel between the religious -idea in classic and romantic art; for romantic -art has also its ideal, which, as we -have seen already, differs essentially from -the antique idea.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Greek beauty shows the soul wholly -identified with the corporeal form. In -romantic art beauty no more resides in -the idealization of the sensuous form, but -in the soul itself. Undoubtedly one ought -still to demand a certain agreement between -the reality and the idea; but the -determinate form is indifferent, it is not -purified from all the accidents of real existence. -The immortal gods in presenting -themselves to our eyes under the human -form, do not partake of its wants and -miseries. On the contrary, the God of -Christian art is not a solitary God, a stranger -to the conditions of mortal life; -he makes himself man, and shares the -miseries and the sufferings of humanity. -The representation of religious love is the -most favorable subject for the beautiful -creations of Christian art.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Thus, in the first place, love in God is -represented by the history of Christ’s <i>redemption</i>, -by the various phases of his -life, of his passion, of his death, and of -his resurrection. In the second place, love -in man, the union of the human soul with -God, appears in the holy family, in the -maternal love of the Virgin, and in the -love of the disciples. Finally, love in humanity -is manifested by the spirit of the -Church, that is to say, by the Spirit of -God present in the society of the faithful, -by the return of humanity to God, death -to terrestrial life, martyrdom, repentance -and conversion, the miracles and the legends.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Such are the principal subjects which -form the ground of religious art. It is -the Christian ideal in whatever in it is -most elevated. Art seizes it and seeks to -express it—but does this only imperfectly. -Art is here necessarily surpassed by the -religious thought, and ought to recognize -its own insufficiency.</p> - -<p class='c006'>If we pass from the religious to the <i>profane -ideal</i>, it presents itself to us under -two different forms. The one, although -representing human personality, yet develops -noble and elevated sentiments, -which combine with moral or religious -ideas. The other shows us only persons -who display, in the pursuit of purely human -and positive interests, independence -and energy of character. The first is represented -by chivalry. When we come to -examine the nature and the principle of -the chivalric ideal, we see that what constitutes -its content is, in fact, <i>personality</i>. -Here, man abandons the state of inner -sanctification, the contemplative for the -active life. He casts his eyes about him -and seeks a theatre for his activity. The -fundamental principle is always the same, -the soul, the human person, pursuing the -<span class='pageno' id='Page_111'>111</span>infinite. But it turns toward another -sphere, that of action and real life. The -Ego is replete with self only, with its individuality, -which, in its eyes, is of infinite -value. It attaches little importance to general -ideas, to interests, to enterprises which -have for object general order. Three sentiments, -in the main, present this personal -and individual character, <i>honor</i>, <i>love</i>, and -<i>fidelity</i>. Moreover, separate or united, -they form, aside from the religious relationships -which can be reflected in them, -the true content of chivalry.</p> - -<p class='c006'>The author analyzes these three sentiments; -he shows in what they differ from -the analogous sentiments or qualities in -antique art. He endeavors, above all, to -prove that they represent, in fact, the side -of human personality, with its infinite and -ideal character. Thus honor does not resemble -bravery, which exposes itself for a -common cause. Honor fights only to make -itself known or respected, to guarantee -the inviolability of the individual person. -In like manner <i>love</i>, also, which constitutes -the centre of the circle, is only the accidental -passion of one person for another -person. Even when this passion is idealized -by the imagination and ennobled by -depth of sentiment, it is not yet the ethical -bond of the family and of marriage. -Fidelity presents the moral character in a -higher degree, since it is disinterested; but -it is not addressed to the general good of -society in itself; it attaches itself exclusively -to the person of a master. Chivalric -fidelity understands perfectly well, besides, -how to preserve its advantages and -its rights, the independence and the honor -of the person, who is always only conditionally -bound. The basis of these three -sentiments is, then, free personality. This -is the most beautiful part of the circle -which is found beyond religion, properly -so-called. All here has for immediate -end, man, with whom we can sympathize -through the side of personal independence. -These sentiments are, moreover, susceptible -of being placed in connection with religion -in a multitude of ways, as they are -able to preserve their independent character.</p> - -<p class='c006'>“This form of romantic art was developed -in the East and in the West, but especially -in the West, that land of reflection, -of the concentration of the spirit upon itself. -In the East was accomplished the -first expansion of liberty, the first attempt -toward enfranchisement from the finite. -It was Mahometanism which first swept -from the ancient soil all idolatry, and religions -born of the imagination. But it absorbed -this internal liberty to such a degree -that the entire world for it was effaced; -plunged in an intoxication of ecstacy, -the oriental tastes in contemplation the -delights of love, calmness, and felicity.” -(Page 456.)</p> - -<p class='c006'>3. We have seen human personality developing -itself upon the theatre of real -life, and there displaying noble, generous -sentiments, such as honor, love and fidelity. -Meanwhile it is in the sphere of real -life and of purely human interests that liberty -and independence of character appear -to us. The ideal here consists only in energy -and perseverance of will, and passion -as well as <i>independence of character</i>. Religion -and chivalry disappear with their -high conceptions, their noble sentiments, -and their thoroughly ideal objects. On -the contrary, what characterizes the new -wants, is the thirst for the joys of the present -life, the ardent pursuit of human interests -in what in them is actual, determined, -or positive. In like manner, in the -figurative arts, man wishes objects to be -represented in their palpable and visible -reality.</p> - -<p class='c006'>The destruction of classic art commenced -with the predominance of the agreeable, -and it ended with satire. Romantic art -ends in the exaggeration of the principle of -personality, deprived of a substantial and -moral content, and thenceforth abandoned -to caprice, to the arbitrary, to fancy and -excess of passion. There is left further to -the imagination of the poet only to paint -forcibly and with depth these characters; -to the artist, only to imitate the real; to the -spirit, to exhibit its rigor in piquant combinations -and contrasts.</p> - -<p class='c006'>This tendency is revealed under three -principal forms: 1st, <i>Independence of individual -character</i>, pursuing its proper -ends, its particular designs, without moral -<span class='pageno' id='Page_112'>112</span>or religious aim; 2d, the exaggeration of -the chivalric principle, and the spirit of -<i>adventure</i>; 3d, the separation of the elements, -the union of which constitutes the -very idea of art, through the destruction of -art itself,—that is to say, the predilection -for common reality, <i>the imitation of the -real</i>, mechanical ability, caprice, fancy, -and <i>humor</i>.</p> - -<p class='c006'>The first of these three points furnishes -to Hegel the occasion for a remarkable estimate -of the characters of Shakspeare, -which represent, in an eminent degree, -this phase of the Romantic ideal. The -distinctive trait of character of the <i>dramatis -personæ</i> of Shakspeare is, in fact, the -energy and obstinate perseverance of a -will which is exclusively devoted to a specific -end, and concentrates all its efforts for -the purpose of realizing it. There is here -no question either of religion or of moral -ideas. They are characters placed singly -face to face with each other, and their -designs, which they have spontaneously -conceived, and the execution of which they -pursue with the unyielding obstinacy of -passion. Macbeth, Othello, Richard III., -are such characters. Others, as Romeo, -Juliet, and Miranda, are distinguished by -an absorption of soul in a unique, profound, -but purely personal sentiment, -which furnishes them an occasion for displaying -an admirable wealth of qualities. -The most restricted and most common, still -interest us by a certain consistency in their -acts, a certain brilliancy, an enthusiasm, -a freedom of imagination, a spirit superior -to circumstances, which causes us to overlook -whatever there is common in their -action and discourse.</p> - -<p class='c006'>But this class, where Shakspeare excels, -is extremely difficult to treat. To writers -of mediocrity, the quicksand is inevitable. -They risk, in fact, falling into the insipid, -the insignificant, the trivial, or the repulsive, -as a crowd of imitators have -proven.</p> - -<p class='c006'>It has been vouchsafed only to a few -great masters to possess enough genius -and taste to seize here the true and the -beautiful, to redeem the insignificance or -vulgarity of the content by enthusiasm -and talent, by the force and energy of their -pencil and by a profound knowledge of -human passions.</p> - -<p class='c006'>One of the characteristics of romantic -art is, that, in the religious sphere, the -soul, finding for itself satisfaction in itself, -has no need to develop itself in the external -world. On the other hand, when the -religious idea no longer makes itself felt, -and when the free will is no longer dependent, -except on itself, the <i>dramatis personæ</i> -pursue aims wholly individual in a world -where all appears arbitrary and accidental, -and which seems abandoned to itself and -delivered up to chance. In its irregular -pace, it presents a complication of events, -which intermingle without order and without -cohesion.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Moreover, this is the form which events -affect in romantic, in opposition to classic -art, where the actions and events are bound -to a common end, to a true and necessary -principle which determines the form, the -character, and the mode of development of -external circumstances. In romantic art, -also, we find general interests, moral ideas; -but they do not ostensibly determine -events; they are not the ordering and regulating -principle. These events, on the -contrary, preserve their free course, and -affect an accidental form.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Such is the character of the greater part -of the grand events in the middle ages, the -crusades, for example, which the author -names for this reason, and which were the -grand adventures of the Christian world.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Whatever may be the judgment which -one forms upon the crusades and the different -motives which caused them to be -undertaken, it cannot be denied, that with -an elevated religious aim—the deliverance -of the holy sepulchre—there were mingled -other interested and material motives, and -that the religious and the profane aim did -not contradict nor corrupt the other. As -to their general form, the crusades present -utter absence of unity. They are undertaken -by masses, by multitudes, who enter -upon a particular expedition according to -their good pleasure, and their individual -caprice. The lack of unity, the absence -of plan and direction, causes the enterprises -to fail, and the efforts and endeavors -are wasted in individual exploits.</p> - -<p class='c006'><span class='pageno' id='Page_113'>113</span>In another domain, that of profane life, -the road is open also to a crowd of adventurers, -whose object is more or less imaginary, -and whose principle is love, honor, -or fidelity. To battle for the glory of a -name, to fly to the succor of innocence, to -accomplish the most marvellous things for -the honor of one’s lady, such is the motive -of the greater part of the beautiful exploits -which the romances of chivalry or -the poems of this epoch and subsequent -epochs celebrate.</p> - -<p class='c006'>These vices of chivalry cause its ruin. -We find the most faithful picture of it in -the poems of Ariosto and Cervantes.</p> - -<p class='c006'>But what best marks the destruction of -romantic art and of chivalry is the <i>modern -romance</i>, that form of literature which -takes their place. The romance is chivalry -applied to real life; it is a protest against -the real, it is the ideal in a society where all -is fixed, regulated in advance by laws, by -usages contrary to the free development -of the natural longings and sentiments of -the soul; it is the chivalry of common -life. The same principle which caused a -search for adventures throws the personages -into the most diverse and the most -extraordinary situations. The imagination, -disgusted with that which is, cuts -out for itself a world according to its fancy, -and creates for itself an ideal wherein it -can forget social customs, laws, positive -interests. The young men and young -women, above all, feel the want of such -aliment for the heart, or of such distraction -against <i>ennui</i>. Ripe age succeeds -youth; the young man marries and enters -upon positive interests. Such is also the -<i>dénoûement</i> of the greater part of romances, -where prose succeeds poetry, the real, the -ideal.</p> - -<p class='c006'>The destruction of romantic art is announced -by symptoms still more striking, -by the <i>imitation of the real</i>, and the appearance -of the <i>humorous</i> style, which -occupies more and more space in art and -literature. The artist and the poet can -there display much talent, enthusiasm and -spirit; but these two styles are no less -striking indexes of an epoch of decadence.</p> - -<p class='c006'>It is, above all, the humorous style which -marks this decadence, by the absence of -all fixed principle and all rule. It is a -pure play of the imagination which combines, -according to its liking, the most -different objects, alters and overturns relations, -tortures itself to discover novel and -extraordinary conceptions. The author -places himself above the subject, regards -himself as freed from all conditions imposed -by the nature of the content as well -as the form, and imagines that all depends -on his wit and the power of his genius. It -is to be observed, that what Hegel calls -the downfall of art in general, and of romantic -art in particular, is precisely what -we call the romantic school in the art and -literature of our time.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Such are the fundamental forms which -art presents in its historic development. -If the art of the <i>renaissance</i>, or modern -art properly so called, finds no place in -this sketch, it is because it does not constitute -an original and fundamental form. -The <i>renaissance</i> is a return to Greek art; -and as to modern art, it is allied to both -Greek and Christian.</p> - -<p class='c006'>But it remains for us to present some -conclusions upon the future destiny of -art—a point of highest interest, to which -this review of the forms and monuments -of the past must lead. The conclusions of -the author, which we shall consider elsewhere, -are far from answering to what we -might have expected from so remarkable -a historic picture.</p> - -<p class='c006'>What are, indeed, these conclusions? -The first is, that the rôle of art, to speak -properly, is finished—at least, its original -and distinct rôle. The circle of the ideas -and beliefs of humanity is completed. Art -has invested them with the forms which it -was capable of giving them. In the future, -it ought, then, to occupy a secondary place. -After having finished its independent career, -it becomes an obscure satellite of -science and philosophy, in which are absorbed -both religion and art. This thought -is not thus definitely formulated, but it is -clearly enough indicated. Art, in revealing -thought, has itself contributed to the -destruction of other forms, and to its own -downfall. The new art ought to be elevated -above all the particular forms which -it has already expressed. “Art ceases to -<span class='pageno' id='Page_114'>114</span>be attached to a determinate circle of ideas -and forms; it consecrates itself to a new -worship, that of humanity. All that the -heart of man includes within its own immensity—its -joys and its sufferings, its -interests, its actions, its destinies—become -the domain of art.” Thus the content is -human nature; the form a free combination -of all the forms of the past. We shall -hereafter consider this new eclecticism in -art.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Hegel points out, in concluding, a final -form of literature and poetry, which is the -unequivocal index of the absence of peculiar, -elevated and profound ideas, and of -original forms—that sentimental poetry, -light or descriptive, which to-day floods -the literary world and the drawing-rooms -with its verses; compositions without life -and without content, without originality -or true inspiration; a common-place and -vague expression of all sentiment, full of -aspirations and empty of ideas, where, -through all, there makes itself recognized -an imitation of some illustrious geniuses—themselves -misled in false and perilous -ways; a sort of current money, analogous -to the epistolary style. Everybody is poet; -and there is scarcely one true poet. “Wherever -the faculties of the soul and the forms -of language have received a certain degree -of culture, there is no person who cannot, -if he take the fancy, express in verse some -situation of the soul, as any one is in condition -to write a letter.”</p> - -<p class='c006'>Such a style, thus universally diffused, -and reproduced under a thousand forms, -although with different shadings, easily -becomes fastidious.</p> -<h4 class='c012'>CHAPTER II.</h4> -<p class='c005'>We hope to see those necessities of -thought which underlie all Philosophical -systems. We set out to account for all the -diversities of opinion, and to see identity -in the world of thought. But necessity in -the realm of thought may be phenomenal. -If there be anything which is given out as -fixed, we must try its validity.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Many of the “impossibilities” of thought -are easily shown to rest upon ignorance of -psychological appliances. The person is -not able because he does not know <i>how</i>—just -as in other things. We must take -care that we do not confound the incapacity -of ignorance with the necessity of -thought. (The reader will find an example -of this in Sir Wm. Hamilton’s “Metaphysics,” -page 527.) One of these “incapacities” -arises from neglecting the -following:</p> - -<p class='c006'>Among the first distinctions to be learned -by the student in philosophy is that between -the imaginative form of thinking -and <i>pure</i> thinking. The former is a -sensuous grade of thinking which uses -<i>images</i>, while the latter is a more developed -stage, and is able to think objects in and -for themselves. Spinoza’s statement of -this distinction applied to the thinking of -the Infinite—his “Infinitum imaginationis” -and “Infinitum actu vel rationis”—has -been frequently alluded to by those who -treat of this subject.</p> - -<p class='c006'>At first one might suppose that when -finite things are the subject of thought, it -would make little difference whether the -first or second form of thinking is employed. -This is, however, a great error. -The Philosopher must always “think -things under the form of eternity” if he -would think the truth.</p> - -<p class='c006'><i>Imagination</i> pictures objects. It represents -to itself only the bounded. If it tries -to realize the conception of infinitude, it -represents a limited somewhat, and then -<i>Reflection</i> or the <i>Understanding</i> (a form of -thought lying between Imagination and -Reason) passes beyond the limits, and annuls -them. This process may be continued -indefinitely, or until <i>Reason</i> (or pure -thinking) comes in and solves the dilemma. -Thus we have a dialogue resulting -somewhat as follows:</p> - -<p class='c006'><i>Imagination.</i> Come and see the Infinite -just as I have pictured it.</p> - -<p class='c006'><span class='pageno' id='Page_115'>115</span><i>Understanding.</i> [Peeping cautiously -about it.] Where is your frame? Ah! I -see it now, clearly. How is this! Your -frame does not include all. There is a -“beyond” to your picture. I cannot tell -whether you intend the inside or outside for -your picture of the Infinite, I see it on both.</p> - -<p class='c006'><i>Imag.</i> [Tries to extend the frame, but -with the same result as before.] I believe -you are right! I am well nigh exhausted -by my efforts to include the unlimited.</p> - -<p class='c006'><i>Un.</i> Ah! you see the Infinite is merely -the negative of the finite or positive. It is -the negative of those conditions which you -place there in order to have any representation -at all.</p> - -<p class='c006'>[While the Understanding proceeds to -deliver a course of wise saws and moral -reflections on the “inability of the Finite to -grasp the Infinite,” sitting apart upon its -bipod—for tripod it has none, one of the -legs being broken—it self-complacently -and oracularly admonishes the human -mind to cultivate humility; Imagination -drops her brush and pencil in confusion at -these words. Very opportunely <i>Reason</i> -steps in and takes an impartial survey of -the scene.]</p> - -<p class='c006'><i>Reason.</i> Did you say that the Infinite -is unknowable?</p> - -<p class='c006'><i>Un.</i> Yes. “To think is to limit, and -hence to think the Infinite is to limit it, -and thus to destroy it.”</p> - -<p class='c006'><i>Reason.</i> Apply your remarks to Space. -Is not Space infinite?</p> - -<p class='c006'><i>Un.</i> If I attempt to realize Space, I -conceive a bounded, but I at once perceive -that I have placed my limits <i>within</i> Space, -and hence my realization is inadequate. -The Infinite, therefore, seems to be a beyond -to my clear conception.</p> - -<p class='c006'><i>Reason.</i> Indeed! When you reflect on -Space do you not perceive that it is of -such a nature that it can be limited only -by itself? Do not all its limits imply -Space to exist in?</p> - -<p class='c006'><i>Un.</i> Yes, that is the difficulty.</p> - -<p class='c006'><i>Reason.</i> I do not see the “difficulty.” -If Space can be limited only by itself, its -limit continues it, instead of bounding it. -Hence it is universally continuous or infinite.</p> - -<p class='c006'><i>Un.</i> But a mere negative.</p> - -<p class='c006'><i>Reason.</i> No, not a mere negative, but -the negative of all negation, and hence -truly affirmative. It is the exhibition of -the utter impossibility of any negative to -it. All attempts to limit it, continue it. -It is its own other. Its negative is itself. -Here, then, we have a truly affirmative infinite -in contradistinction to the <i>negative</i> -infinite—the “infinite progress” that you -and Imagination were engaged upon when -I came in.</p> - -<p class='c006'><i>Un.</i> What you say seems to me a distinction -in words merely.</p> - -<p class='c006'><i>Reason.</i> Doubtless. All distinctions -are merely in words until one has learned -to see them independent of words. But -you must go and mend that tripod on which -you are sitting; for how can one think at -ease and exhaustively, when he is all the -time propping up his basis from without?</p> - -<p class='c006'><i>Un.</i> I cannot understand you. [Exit.]</p> -<p class='c005'><i>Note.</i></p> - -<p class='c006'>It will be well to consider what application -is to be made of these distinctions to -the mind itself, whose form is consciousness. -In self-knowing, or consciousness, -the subject knows itself—it is its own object. -Thus in this phase of activity we -have the affirmative Infinite. The subject -is its own object—is continued by its other -or object. This is merely suggested here—it -will be developed hereafter.</p> -<h4 class='c012'>CHAPTER III.</h4> -<p class='c005'>In the first chapter we attained—or at -least made the attempt to attain—some insight -into the relation which Mind bears -to Time and Space. It appeared that -Mind is a <i>Transcendent</i>, i. e. something -which Time and Space inhere in, rather -than a somewhat, conditioned by them. -Although this result agrees entirely with -the religious instincts of man, which assert -the immortality of the soul, and the unsubstantiality -of the existences within -Time and Space, yet as a logical result of -thinking, it seems at first very unreliable. -The disciplined thinker will indeed find the -distinctions “a priori and a posteriori” inadequately -treated; but his emendations -will only make the results there established -more wide-sweeping and conclusive.</p> - -<p class='c006'><span class='pageno' id='Page_116'>116</span>In the second chapter we learned caution -with respect to the manner of attempting -to realize in our minds the results of -thought. If we have always been in the -habit of regarding Mind as a property or -attribute of the individual, we have conceived -it not according to its true nature, -but have allowed Imagination to mingle its -activity in the thinking of that which is -of a universal nature. Thus we are prone -to say to ourselves: “How can a mere attribute -like Mind be the logical condition -of the solid realities of Space and Time?” -In this we have quietly assumed the whole -point at issue. No system of thinking -which went to work logically ever proved -the Mind to be an attribute; only very elementary -grades of thinking, which have -a way of assuming in their premises what -they draw out analytically in their conclusions, -ever set up this dogma. This -will become clearer at every step as we -proceed.</p> - -<p class='c006'>We will now pursue a path similar to -that followed in the first chapter, and see -what more we can learn of the nature of -Mind. We will endeavor to learn more -definitely what constitutes its <i>a priori</i> activity, -in order, as there indicated, to -achieve our object. Thus our present -search is after the “Categories” and their -significance. Taking the word category -here in the sense of “a priori determination -of thought,” the first question is: -“Do any categories exist? Are there any -thoughts which belong to the nature of -mind itself?” It is the same question -that Locke discusses under the head of -“Innate ideas.”</p> -<h4 class='c012'>I.</h4> -<p class='c005'>“Every act of knowing or cognizing is -the translating of an unknown somewhat -into a known, as a scholar translates a new -language into his own.” If he did not already -understand one language, he could -never translate the new one. In the act of -knowing, the object becomes known in so -far as I am able to recognise predicates as -belonging to it. “This is <i>red</i>;” unless I -know already what “red” means, I do not -cognize the object by predicating <i>red</i> of it. -“Red is a color;” unless I know what -“color” means, I have not said anything -intelligible—I have not expressed an act of -cognition. The object becomes known to -us in so far as we recognize its predicates—and -hence we could never know anything -unless we had at least one predicate or conception -with which to commence. If we -have one predicate through which we cognize -some object, that act of cognition -gives us a new predicate; for it has dissolved -or “translated” a somewhat, that -before was unknown, into a known; the -“not-me” has, to that extent, become the -“me.” Without any predicates to begin -with, all objects would remain forever outside -of our consciousness. Even consciousness -itself would be impossible, for -the very act of self-cognition implies that -the predicate “myself” is well known. -It is an act of identification: “I am myself;” -the subject is, as predicate, completely -known or dissolved back into the -subject. I cognize myself as myself; there -is no alien element left standing over -against me. Thus we are able to say that -there must be an a priori category in order -to render possible any act of knowing -whatever. Moreover, we see that this -category must be identical with the <i>Ego</i> -itself, for the reason that the process of -cognition is at the same time a recognition; -it predicates only what it recognizes. -Thus, fundamentally, in knowing, Reason -knows itself. Self-consciousness is the -basis of knowledge. This will throw light -on the first chapter; but let us first confirm -this position by a psychological analysis.</p> -<h4 class='c012'>II.</h4> -<p class='c005'>What is the permanent element in -thought?—It can easily be found in language—its -external manifestation. Logic -tells us that the expression of thought involves -always a subject and predicate. -Think what you please, say what you -please, and your thought or assertion consists -of a subject and predicate—positive or -negative—joined by the copula, <i>is</i>. “Man -lives” is equivalent to “man is living.” -“Man” and “living” are joined by the -word “is.” If we abstract all content -from thought, and take its pure form in -order to see the permanent, we shall have -“is” the copula,—or putting a letter for -<span class='pageno' id='Page_117'>117</span>subject and attribute, we shall have “<i>a</i> is -<i>a</i>,” (or “<i>a</i> is <i>b</i>,”) for the universal form -of thought. The mental act is expressed -by “is.” In this empty “is” we have the -category of pure Being, which is the -“summum genus” of categories. Any -predicate other than <i>being</i> will be found to -contain being <i>plus</i> determinations, and -hence can be subsumed under being. We -shall get new light on this subject if we -examine the ordinary doctrine of <i>explanation</i>.</p> -<h4 class='c012'>III.</h4> -<p class='c005'>In order to explain something, we subsume -it under a more general. Thus we -say: “Horse is an animal;” and, “An animal -is an organic being,” &c. A definition -contains not only this subsumption, -but also a statement of the specific difference. -We define <i>quadruped</i> by subsuming -it, (“It is an animal”) and giving the specific -difference (“which has four feet”).</p> - -<p class='c006'>As we approach the “summum genus,” -the predicates become more and more -empty; “they become more <i>extensive</i> in -their application, and less <i>comprehensive</i> -in their content.” Thus they approach -pure simplicity, which is attained in the -“summum genus.” This pure simple, -which is the limit of subsumption and abstraction, -is pure Being—Being devoid of -all determinateness. When we have arrived -at Being, subsuming becomes simple -identifying—Being is Being, or <i>a</i> is <i>a</i>—and -this is precisely the same activity that -we found self-consciousness to consist of -in our first analysis, (<span class='fss'>I.</span>) and the same activity -that we found all mental acts to consist -of in our second analysis, (<span class='fss'>II.</span>).</p> -<h4 class='c012'>IV.</h4> -<p class='c005'>Therefore, we may affirm on these -grounds, that the “summum genus,” or -primitive category, is the Ego itself in its -simplest activity as the “is” (or pure -<i>being</i> if taken substantively).</p> - -<p class='c006'>Thus it happens that when the Mind -comes to cognize an object, it must first of -all recognize itself in it in its simplest activity,—it -must know that the object <i>is</i>. -We cannot know anything else of an object -without presupposing the knowledge -of its <i>existence</i>.</p> - -<p class='c006'>At this point it is evident that this category -is not derived from experience in the -sense of <i>an impression from without</i>. It -is the activity of the Ego itself, and is its -(the <i>Ego’s</i>) first self-externalization (or its -first becoming object to itself—its first act -of self-consciousness). The essential activity -of the Ego itself consists in recognizing -itself, and this involves self-separation, -and then the annulling of this separation -in the same act. For in knowing -myself as an object I separate the Ego -from itself, but in the very act of <i>knowing</i> -it I make it identical again. Here are -two negative processes involved in knowing, -and these are indivisibly one:—first, -the negative act of separation—secondly, -the negative act of annulling the separation -by the act of recognition. That the -application of categories to the external -world is a process of self-recognition, is -now clear: we know, in so far as we recognize -predicates in the object,—we say “The -Rose <i>is</i>, it is <i>red</i>, it is <i>round</i>, it is <i>fragrant</i>, -&c.” In this we separate what belongs -to the rose from it, and place it outside -of it, and then, through the act of predication, -unite it again. “The Rose <i>is</i>” -contains merely the recognition of being -but being is separated from it and joined -to it in the act of predication. Thus we -see that the fundamental act of self-consciousness, -which is a self-separation and -self-identification united in one act of recognition,—we -see that this fundamental -act is repeated in all acts of knowing. We -do not know even the rose without separating -it from itself, and identifying the -two sides thus formed. (This contains a -deeper thought which we may suggest -here. That the act of knowing puts all -objects into this crucible, is an intimation -on its part that no object can possess true, -abiding being, without this ability to separate -itself from itself in the process of -self-identification. Whatever cannot do -this is no essence, but may be only an element -of a process in which it ceaselessly -loses its identity. But we shall recur to -this again.)</p> - -<p class='c006'>Doubtless we could follow out this activity -through various steps, and deduce -all the categories of pure thought. This -<span class='pageno' id='Page_118'>118</span>is what Plato has done in part; what -Fichte has done in his Science of Knowledge, -(“Wissenschaftslehre”) and Hegel -in his Logic. A science of these pure intelligibles -unlocks the secret of the Universe; -it furnishes that “Royal Road” -to all knowledge; it is the far-famed Philosopher’s -Stone that alone can transmute -the base dross of mere talent into genius.</p> -<h4 class='c012'>V.</h4> -<p class='c005'>Let us be content if at the close of this -chapter we can affirm still more positively -the conclusions of our first. Through a -consideration of the a priori knowledge of -Time and Space, and their logical priority, -as conditions, to the world of experience, -we inferred the transcendency of Mind. -Upon further investigation, we have now -discovered that there are other forms of -the Mind more primordial than Space and -Time, and more essentially related to its -activity; for all the categories of pure -thought—Being, Negation, &c.,—are applicable -to Space and to Time, and hence -more universal than either of them alone; -these categories of pure thought, moreover, -as before remarked, could never have been -derived from experience. Experience is -not possible without presupposing these -predicates. “They are the tools of intelligence -through which it cognizes.” If we -hold by this stand-point exclusively, we -may say, with Kant, that we furnish the -subjective forms in knowing, and for this -reason cannot know the “thing in itself.” -If these categories are merely subjective—i. e. -given in the constitution of the Mind -itself—and we do not know what the “thing -in itself” may be, yet we can come safely -out of all skepticism here by considering -the universal nature of these categories or -“forms of the mind.” For if Being, Negation -and Existence are forms of mind -and purely subjective, so that they do not -belong to the “thing in itself,” it is evident -that such an object cannot <i>be</i> or <i>exist</i>, -or in any way have validity, either positively -or negatively. Thus it is seen from -the nature of mind here exhibited, that -Mind is the <i>noumenon</i> or “thing in itself” -which Philosophy seeks, and thus our third -chapter confirms our first.</p> -<p class='c005'><i>Note.</i></p> - -<p class='c006'>The <span class='sc'>Materialism</span> of the present day holds -that thought is a modification of force, -correlated with heat, light, electricity, -&c., in short, that organization produces -ideas. If so, we are placed within a narrow -idealism, and can only say of what is -held for <i>truth</i>: “I am so correlated as to -hold this view,—I shall be differently correlated -to-morrow, perhaps, and hold -another view.” Yet in this very statement -the Ego takes the stand-point of universality—it -speaks of possibilities—which it -could never do, were it merely a correlate. -For to hold a possibility is to be able to -annul in thought the limits of the real, -and hence to elevate itself to the point of -universality. But this is <i>self</i>-correlation; -we have a movement in a circle, and hence -self-origination, and hence a spontaneous -fountain of force. The Mind, in conceiving -of the possible, annuls the real, and -thus creates its own motives; its acting according -to motives, is thus acting according -to its own acts—an obvious circle again.</p> - -<p class='c006'>In fine, it is evident that the idealism -which the correlationist logically falls into -is as strict as that of any school of professed -idealism which he is in the habit of condemning. -The <i>persistent force</i> is the general -<i>idea</i> of force, not found as any <i>real</i> force, -for each <i>real</i> force is individualized in some -particular way. But it is evident that a particular -force cannot be correlated with <i>force -in general</i>, but only with a special form -like itself. But the general force is the -only abiding one—each particular one is -in a state of transition into another—a -perpetual losing of individuality. Hence -the true abiding force is not a <i>real</i> one existing -objectively, but only an <i>ideal</i> one -existing subjectively in thought. But -through the fact that thought can seize the -true and abiding which can exist for itself -nowhere else, the correlationist is bound -to infer the transcendency of Mind just -like the idealist. Nay, more, when he -comes to speak considerately, he will say -that Mind, for the very reason that it -thinks the true, abiding force, cannot be -correlated with any determined force.</p> -<div> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_119'>119</span> - <h4 class='c012'>CHAPTER IV.</h4> -</div> -<p class='c005'>Philosophers usually begin to construct -their systems in full view of their final -principle. It would be absurd for one to -commence a demonstration if he had no -clear idea of what he intended to prove. -From the final principle the system must -be worked back to the beginning in the -Philosopher’s mind before he can commence -his demonstration. Usually the order of -demonstration which he follows, is not the -order of discovery; in such case his system -proceeds by external reflections. All -mathematical proof is of this order. One -constructs his demonstration to lead from -the known to the unknown, and uses many -intermediate propositions that do not of -necessity lead to the intended result. -With another theorem in view, they might -be used for steps to that, just as well. But -there is a certain inherent development in -all subjects when examined according to -the highest method, that will lead one on to -the exhaustive exposition of all that is involved -therein. This is called the <i>dialectic</i>. -This dialectic movement cannot be -used as a philosophic instrument, unless -one has seen the deepest <i>aperçu</i> of Science; -if this is not the case, the dialectic will -prove merely destructive and not constructive. -It is therefore a mistake, as has been -before remarked, to attempt to introduce -the beginner of the study of Philosophy -at once into the dialectic. The content of -Philosophy must be first presented under -its sensuous and reflective forms, and a -gradual progress established. In this chapter -an attempt will be made to approach -again the ultimate principle which we have -hitherto fixed only in a general manner as -<i>Mind</i>. We will use the method of external -reflection, and demonstrate three propositions: -1. There is an independent being; -2. That being is self-determined; 3. -Self-determined being is in the form of -personality, i. e. is an <i>Ego</i>.</p> -<h4 class='c012'>I.</h4> -<p class='c005'>1. Dependent being, implying its complement -upon which it depends, cannot be -explained through itself, but through that -upon which it depends.</p> - -<p class='c006'>2. This being upon which it depends -cannot be also a dependent being, for the -dependent being has no support of its own -to lend to another; all that it has is borrowed. -“A chain of dependent beings -collapses into one dependent being. Dependence -is not converted into independence -by mere multiplication.”</p> - -<p class='c006'>3. The dependent, therefore, depends -upon the independent, and has its explanation -in it. Since all being is of one kind -or the other, it follows that all being is independent, -or a complemental element of -it. Reciprocal dependence makes an independent -including whole, which is the -<i>negative unity</i>.</p> - -<p class='c006'><i>Definition.</i>—One of the most important -implements of the thinker is the comprehension -of “negative unity.” It is a -unity resulting from the reciprocal cancelling -of elements; e. g. <i>Salt</i> is the negative -unity of <i>acid</i> and <i>alkali</i>. It is called <i>negative</i> -because it negates the independence -of the elements within it. In the negative -unity <i>Air</i>, the elements oxygen and nitrogen -have their independence negated.</p> -<h4 class='c012'>II.</h4> -<p class='c005'>1. The independent being cannot exist -without determinations. Without these, -it could not distinguish itself or be distinguished -from nought.</p> - -<p class='c006'>2. Nor can the independent being be determined -(i. e. limited or modified in any -way) from without, or through another. -For all that is determined through another -is a dependent somewhat.</p> - -<p class='c006'>3. Hence the independent being can be -only a self-determined. If self-determined, -it can exist through itself.</p> -<p class='c005'><i>Note.</i></p> - -<p class='c006'>Spinoza does not arrive at the third position, -but, after considering the second, -arrives at the first one, and concludes, -since determination through another makes -a somewhat <i>finite</i>, that the independent -being must be <i>undetermined</i>. He does not -happen to discover that there is another -kind of determination, to-wit, self-determination, -which can consist with independence. -The method that he uses makes -it entirely an accidental matter with him -that he discovers what speculative results -he does—the dialectic method would lead -<span class='pageno' id='Page_120'>120</span>inevitably to self-determination, as we -shall see later. It is Hegel’s <i>aperçu</i> that -we have in the third position; with Spinoza -the independent being remained an -undetermined <i>substance</i>, but with Hegel it -became a self-determining <i>subject</i>. All -that Spinoza gets out of his substance he -must get in an arbitrary manner; it does -not follow from its definition that it shall -have modes and attributes, but the contrary. -This <i>aperçu</i>—that the independent -being, i. e. every really existing, separate -entity, is self-determined—is the central -point of speculative philosophy. What -self-determination involves, we shall see -next.</p> -<h4 class='c012'>III.</h4> -<p class='c005'>1. Self-determination implies that the -<i>constitution</i> or <i>nature</i> be self-originated. -There is nothing about a self-determined -that is created by anything without.</p> - -<p class='c006'>2. Thus self-determined being exists -dually—it is (<i>a</i>) as <i>determining</i> and (<i>b</i>) as -<i>determined</i>. (<i>a</i>) As determining, it is the -active, which contains merely the possibility -of determinations; (<i>b</i>) as determined, it -is the passive result—the matter upon -which the subject acts.</p> - -<p class='c006'>3. But since both are the same being, -each side returns into itself:—(<i>a</i>) as determining -or active, it acts only upon its -own determining, and (<i>b</i>) as passive or determined, -it is, as result of the former, the -self-same active itself. Hence its movement -is a movement of self-recognition—a -positing of distinction which is cancelled -in the same act. (In self-recognition -something is made an object, and identified -with the subject in the same act.) -Moreover, the determiner, on account of -its pure generality, (i. e. its having no -concrete determinations as yet,) can only -be <i>ideal</i>—can only exist as the <i>Ego</i> exists -in thought; not as a <i>thing</i>, but as a <i>generic</i> -entity. The passive side can exist only -as the self exists in consciousness—as -that which is in opposition and yet in -identity at the same time. No finite existence -could endure this contradiction, -for all such must possess a <i>nature</i> or <i>constitution</i> -which is self-determined; if not, -each finite could negate all its properties -and qualities, and yet remain itself—just -as the person does when he makes abstraction -of all, in thinking of the <i>Ego</i> or pure -self.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Thus we find again our former conclusion.—All -finite or dependent things must -originate in and depend upon independent -or absolute being, which must be an <i>Ego</i>. -The <i>Ego</i> has the form of Infinitude (see -chapter II—<i>the infinite is its own other</i>).</p> - -<p class='c006'><i>Resumé.</i> The first chapter states the -premises which Kant lays down in his -Transcendental Æsthetic, (Kritik der Reinen -Vernunft) and draws the true logical -conclusions which are positive and not -negative, as he makes them. The second -chapter gives the Spinozan distinction of -the Infinite of the Imagination and Infinite -of Reason. The third chapter gives the -logical results which Kant should have -drawn from his Transcendental Logic. -The fourth chapter gives Spinoza’s fundamental -position logically completed, and is -the great fundamental position of Plato, -Aristotle and Hegel, with reference to the -Absolute.</p> - -<h3 class='c001'>MUSIC AS A FORM OF ART. <br /> [Read before the St. Louis Art Society, February, 1867.]</h3> -<h4 class='c012'>I. Upon Art-Criticism.</h4> -<p class='c005'>A work of art is the product of the inspired -moment of the artist. It is not to -be supposed that he is able to give an account -of his work in the terms of the understanding. -Hence the artist is not in a -strict sense a critic. The highest order of -criticism must endeavor to exhibit the -unity of the work by showing how the -various motives unfold from the central -thought. Of course, the artist must be -rare who can see his work doubly—first -sensuously, and then rationally. Only -some Michael Angelo or Goethe can do -this. The common artist sees the sensuous -form as the highest possible revelation—to -him his <i>feeling</i> is higher than the intellectual -vision. And can we not all—critics -<span class='pageno' id='Page_121'>121</span>as well as artists—sympathize with -the statement that the mere calculating -intellect, the cold understanding, “all -light and no heat,” can never rise into the -realm where art can be appreciated? It is -only when we contemplate the truly speculative -intellect—which is called “love” by -the mystics, and by Swedenborg “Love -and wisdom united in a Divine Essence,”—that -we demur at this supreme -elevation of feeling or sentiment. The -art critic must have all the feeling side of -his nature aroused, as the first condition of -his interpretation; and, secondly, he must -be able to dissolve into thought the -emotions which arise from that side. If -feeling were more exalted than thought, -this would be impossible. Such, however, -is the view of such critics as the Schlegels, -who belong to the romantic school. They -say that the intellect considers only abstractions, -while the heart is affected by -the concrete whole. “Spectres and goitred -dwarfs” for the intellect, but “beauty’s -rose” for the feeling heart. But this -all rests on a misunderstanding. The true -art critic does not undervalue feeling. It -is to him the essential basis upon which -he builds. Unless the work of art affects -his feelings, he has nothing to think about; -he can go no further; the work, to him, is -not a work of art at all. But if he is -aroused and charmed by it, if his emotional -nature is stirred to its depths, and -he feels inspired by those spiritual intimations -of Eternity which true art always -excites, then he has a content to work -upon, and this thinking of his, amounts -simply to a recognition in other forms, of -this eternal element, that glows through the -work of art.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Hence there is no collision between the -artist and the critic, if both are true to -their ideal.</p> - -<p class='c006'>It certainly is no injury to the work of -art to show that it treats in some form the -Problem of Life, which is the mystery of -the Christian religion. It is no derogation -to Beethoven to show how he has -solved a problem in music, just as Shakspeare -in poetry, and Michael Angelo in -painting. Those who are content with the -mere feeling, we must always respect if -they really have the true art feeling, just -as we respect the simple piety of the uneducated -peasant. But we must not therefore -underrate the conscious seizing of -the same thing,—not place St. Augustine -or Martin Luther below the simple-minded -peasant. Moreover, as our society has for -its aim the attainment of an insight into -art <i>in general</i>, and not the exclusive enjoyment -of any particular art, it is all the -more important that we should hold by the -only connecting link—the only universal -element—<i>thought</i>. For thought has not -only universal <i>content</i>, like feeling, but -also universal <i>form</i>, which feeling has not.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Another reason that causes persons to -object to art interpretation, is perhaps -that such interpretation reminds them of -the inevitable moral appended <i>ad nauseam</i> -to the stories that delighted our -childhood. But it must be remembered -that these morals are put forward as the -<i>object</i> of the stories. The art critic can -never admit for one moment that it is -the object of a work of art simply to be -didactic. It is true that all art is a means -of culture; but that is not its object. Its -object is to combine the idea with a sensuous -form, so as to embody, as it were, the -Infinite; and any motive external to the -work of art itself, is at once felt to be destructive -to it.</p> -<h4 class='c012'>II. Upon the Interpretation of Art.</h4> -<p class='c005'>1. The Infinite is not manifested <i>within</i> -any particular sphere of finitude, but rather -exhibits itself in the collision of a Finite -with another Finite <i>without</i> it. For a -Finite must by its very nature be limited -from without, and the Infinite, therefore, -not only includes any given finite sphere, -but also its negation (or the other spheres -which joined to it make up the whole).</p> - -<p class='c006'>2. “Art is the manifestation of the Infinite -in the Finite,” it is said. Therefore, -this must mean that art has for its province -the treatment of the collisions that -necessarily arise between one finite sphere -and another.</p> - -<p class='c006'>3. In proportion as the collision portrayed -by art is comprehensive, and a type of -all collisions in the universe, is it a high -work of art. If, then, the collision is on a -small scale, and between low spheres, it is -not a high work of art.</p> - -<p class='c006'><span class='pageno' id='Page_122'>122</span>4. But whether the collision presented -be of a high order or of a low order, it -bears a general resemblance to every other -collision—the Infinite is always like itself -in all its manifestations. The lower the -collision, the more it becomes merely symbolical -as a work of art, and the less it -adequately presents the Infinite.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Thus the lofty mountain peaks of Bierstadt, -which rise up into the regions of -clearness and sunshine, beyond the realms -of change, do this, only because of a force -that contradicts gravitation, which continually -abases them. The contrast of the -high with the low, of the clear and untrammelled -with the dark and impeded, symbolizes, -in the most natural manner, to -every one, the higher conflicts of spirit. -It strikes a chord that vibrates, unconsciously -perhaps, but, nevertheless, inevitably. -On the other hand, when we take the -other extreme of painting, and look at the -“Last Judgment” of Michael Angelo, or -the “Transfiguration” of Raphael, we find -comparatively no ambiguity; there the Infinite -is visibly portrayed, and the collision -in which it is displayed is evidently of the -highest order.</p> - -<p class='c006'>5. Art, from its definition, must relate -to Time and Space, and in proportion as -the grosser elements are subordinated and -the spiritual adequately manifested, we -find that we approach a form of art wherein -the form and matter are both the products -of spirit.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Thus we have arts whose matter is taken -from (<i>a</i>) <i>Space</i>, (<i>b</i>) <i>Time</i>, and (<i>c</i>) <i>Language</i> -(the product of Spirit).</p> - -<p class='c006'>Space is the grossest material. We have -on its plane, I. Architecture, II. Sculpture, -and III. Painting. (In the latter, color -and perspective give the artist power to -represent distance and magnitude, and -internality, without any one of them, in -fact. Upon a piece of ivory no larger than -a man’s hand a “Heart of the Andes” -might be painted.) In Time we have -IV. Music, while in Language we have -V. Poetry (in the three forms of Epic, Lyric, -and Dramatic) as the last and highest -of the forms of Art.</p> - -<p class='c006'>6. An interpretation of a work of art -should consist in a translation of it into -the form of science. Hence, first, one must -seize the general content of it—or the collision -portrayed. Then, secondly, the form -of art employed comes in, whether it be -Architecture, Sculpture, Painting, Music, -or Poetry. Thirdly, the relation which -the content has to the form, brings out the -superior merits, or the limits and defects -of the work of art in question. Thus, at -the end, we have universalized the piece -of art—digested it, as it were. A true interpretation -does not destroy a work of -art, but rather furnishes a guide to its -highest enjoyment. We have the double -pleasure of immediate sensuous enjoyment -produced by the artistic execution, and the -higher one of finding our rational nature -mirrored therein so that we recognize the -eternal nature of Spirit there manifested.</p> - -<p class='c006'>7. The peculiar nature of music, as contrasted -with other arts, will, if exhibited, -best prepare us for what we are to expect -from it. The less definitely the mode of -art allows its content to be seized, the -wider may be its application. Landscape -painting may have a very wide scope for -its interpretation, while a drama of Goethe -or Shakspeare definitely seizes the particulars -of its collision, and leaves no doubt -as to its sphere. So in the art of music, -and especially instrumental music. Music -does not portray an object directly, like -the plastic arts, but it calls up the internal -feeling which is caused by the object itself. -It gives us, therefore, a reflection of our -impressions excited in the immediate contemplation -of the object. Thus we have a -reflection of a reflection, as it were.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Since its material is Time rather than -Space, we have this contrast with the -plastic arts: Architecture, and more especially -Sculpture and Painting, are obliged -to select a special moment of time for -the representation of the collision. As -Goethe shows in the Laocoon, it will not -do to select a moment at random, but that -point of time must be chosen in which the -collision has reached its height, and in -which there is a tension of all the elements -that enter the contest on both sides. A -moment earlier, or a moment later, some -of these elements would be eliminated from -the problem, and the comprehensiveness of -the work destroyed. When this proper moment -is seized in Sculpture, as in the Laocoon, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_123'>123</span>we can see what has been before the -present moment, and easily tell what will -come later. In Painting, through the fact -that coloring enables more subtle effects to -be wrought out, and deeper internal movements -to be brought to the surface, we are -not so closely confined to the “supreme -moment” as in Sculpture. But it is in -Music that we first get entirely free from -that which confines the plastic arts. Since -its form is time, it can convey the whole -movement of the collision from its inception -to its conclusion. Hence Music is superior -to the Arts of Space, in that it can -portray the internal creative process, rather -than the dead results. It gives us the -content in its whole process of development -in a <i>fluid</i> form, while the Sculptor -must fix it in a <i>frigid</i> form at a certain -stage. Goethe and others have compared -Music to Architecture—the latter is “frozen -Music”; but they have not compared it to -Sculpture nor Painting, for the reason -that in these two arts there is a possibility -of seizing the form of the individual more -definitely, while in Architecture and Music -the point of repose does not appear as -the human form, but only as the more general -one of self-relation or harmony. Thus -quantitative ratios—mathematical laws—pervade -and govern these two forms of -Art.</p> - -<p class='c006'>8. Music, more definitely considered, -arises from vibrations, producing waves in -the atmosphere. The cohesive attraction -of some body is attacked, and successful -resistance is made; if not, there is no vibration. -Thus the feeling of victory over -a foreign foe is conveyed in the most elementary -tones, and this is the distinction -of <i>tone</i> from <i>noise</i>, in which there is the -irregularity of disruption, and not the -regularity of self-equality.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Again, in the obedience of the whole -musical structure to its fundamental scale-note, -we have something like the obedience -of Architecture to Gravity. In order to -make an exhibition of Gravity, a pillar is -necessary; for the solid wall does not isolate -sufficiently the function of support. -With the pillar we can have exhibited the -effects of Gravity drawing down to the -earth, and of the support holding up the -shelter. The pillar in classic art exhibits -the equipoise of the two tendencies. In -Romantic or Gothic Architecture it exhibits -a preponderance of the aspiring tendency—the -soaring aloft like the plant to -reach the light—a contempt for mere gravity—slender -pillars seeming to be let down -from the roof, and to draw up something, -rather than to support anything. On the -other hand, in Symbolic Architecture, (as -found in Egypt) we have the overwhelming -power of gravity exhibited so as to crush -out all humanity—the Pyramid, in whose -shape Gravity has done its work. In Music -we have continually the conflict of these -two tendencies, the upward and downward. -The Music that moves upward and -shows its ground or point of repose in the -octave above the scale-note of the basis, -corresponds to the Gothic Architecture. -This aspiring movement occurs again and -again in chorals; it—like all romantic art—expresses -the Christian solution of the -problem of life.</p> -<h4 class='c012'>III. Beethoven’s Sonata in C sharp minor. <br /> (<i>Opus 27, No.</i> 2.)</h4> -<p class='c005'>The three movements of this sonata -which Beethoven called a <i>fantasie-sonata</i>, -are not arranged in the order commonly -followed. Usually sonatas begin with an -<i>allegro</i> or some quick movement, and pass -over to a slow movement—an <i>adagio</i> -or <i>andante</i>—and end in a quick movement. -The content here treated could not -allow this form, and hence it commences -with what is usually the second movement. -Its order is 1. <i>Adagio</i>, 2. <i>Allegretto</i>, 3. <i>Finale</i> -(presto agitato).</p> - -<p class='c006'>(My rule with reference to the study of -art may or may not be interesting to others; -it is this:—always to select a masterpiece, -so recognized, and keep it before -me until it yields its secret, and in its light -I am able to see common-place to be what it -really is, and be no longer dazzled by it. -It requires faith in the commonly received -verdict of critics and an immense deal of -patience, but in the end one is rewarded -for his pains. Almost invariably I find -immediate impressions of uncultured persons -good for nothing. It requires long -familiarity with the best things to learn to -see them in their true excellence.)</p> - -<p class='c006'>This sonata is called by the Austrians -<span class='pageno' id='Page_124'>124</span>the “Moonlight Sonata,” and this has become -the popular name in America. It is -said to have been written by Beethoven -when he was recovering from the disappointment -of his hopes in a love-episode -that had an unfortunate termination. (See -Marx’s “L. v. Beethoven, Leben und Schaffen.” -From this magnificent work of Art-Criticism, -I have drawn the outlines of the -following interpretation.) The object of -his affection was a certain young countess, -Julia Guicciardi; and it appears from -Beethoven’s letter to a friend at the time -(about 1800) that the affection was mutual, -but their difference in rank prevented -a marriage. When this sonata appeared -(in 1802) it was inscribed to her.</p> -<h4 class='c012'><i>Adagio.</i></h4> -<p class='c005'>The first movement is a soft, floating -movement, portraying the soul musing -upon a memory of what has affected it -deeply. The surrounding is dim, as -seen in moonlight, and the soul is lit up -by a reflected light—a glowing at the memory -of a bliss that is past. It is not strange -that this has been called the Moonlight -Sonata, just for this feeling of borrowed -light that pervades it. As we gaze into -the moon of memory, we almost forget the -reflection, and fancy that the sun of immediate -consciousness is itself present. -But anon a flitting cloudlet (a twinge of -bitter regret) obscures the pale beam, or a -glance at the landscape—not painted now -with colors as in the daytime, but only -<i>clare-obscure</i>—brings back to us the sense -of our separation from the day and the -real. Sadly the soft gliding movement -continues, and distant and more distant -grows the prospect of experiencing again -the remembered happiness. Only for a -passing moment can the throbbing soul -realize in its dreams once more its full -completeness, and the plaintive minor -changes to major; but the spectral form -of renunciation glides before its face, and -the soul subsides into its grief, and yields -to what is inevitable. Downward into the -depths fall its hopes; only a sepulchral -echo comes from the bass, and all is still. -Marx calls this “the song of the renouncing -soul.” It is filled with the feeling of -separation and regret; but its slow, dreamy -movement is not that of stern resolution, -which should accompany renunciation. -Accordingly we have</p> -<h4 class='c012'><i>Allegretto.</i></h4> -<p class='c005'>The present and real returns; we no longer -dwell on the past; “We must separate; -only this is left.” In this movement we -awake from the dream, and we feel the importance -of the situation. Its content is -“Farewell, then;” the phrase expressing -this, lingers in its striving to shake off the -grasp and get free. The hands will not let -go each other. The phrase runs into the -next and back to itself, and will not be cut -off. In the trio there seems to be the echoing -of sobs that come from the depth of the -soul as the sorrowful words are repeated. -The buried past still comes back and holds -up its happy hours, while the shadows of -the gloomy future hover before the two -renunciants!</p> - -<p class='c006'>This movement is very short, and is followed -by the</p> -<h4 class='c012'><i>Finale</i> (<i>Presto agitato</i>).</h4> -<p class='c005'>“No grief of the soul that can be conquered -except through action,” says Goethe—and -Beethoven expresses the same conviction -in the somewhat sentimental correspondence -with the fair countess. This -third movement depicts the soul endeavoring -to escape from itself; to cancel its individualism -through contact with the real.</p> - -<p class='c006'>The first movement found the being of -the soul involved with another—having, -as it were, lost its essence. If the being -upon which it depends reflects it back by a -reciprocal dependence, it again becomes -integral and independent. This cannot -be; hence death or renunciation. But -renunciation leaves the soul recoiling upon -its finitude, and devoid of the universality -it would have obtained by receiving its -being through another which reciprocally -depended upon it. Hence the necessity of -Goethe’s and Beethoven’s solution—the -soul must find surcease of sorrow through -action, through will, or practical self-determination. -<i>Man becomes universal in -his deed.</i></p> - -<p class='c006'>How fiercely the soul rushes into the -world of action in this <i>Finale!</i> In its impetuosity -it storms through life, and ever -and anon falls down breathless before the -<span class='pageno' id='Page_125'>125</span>collision which it encounters in leaping the -chasms between the different spheres. In -its swoon of exhaustion there comes up -from the memory of the past the ghost of -the lost love that has all the while accompanied -him, though unnoticed, in his frantic -race. Its hollow tones reverberate -through his being, and he starts from his -dream and drowns his memory anew in the -storm of action. At times we are elevated -to the creative moment of the artist, -and feel its inspiration and lofty enthusiasm, -but again and again the exhausted -soul collapses, and the same abysmal crash -comes in at the bass each time. The -grimmest loneliness, that touches to the -core, comes intruding itself upon our rapture. -Only in the contest with the “last -enemy” we feel at length that the soul has -proved itself valid in a region where distinctions -of rank sunder and divide no -more.</p> - -<p class='c006'>This solution is not quite so satisfactory -as could be desired. If we would realize the -highest solution, we must study the Fifth -Symphony, especially its second movement.</p> -<h4 class='c012'>IV. Beethoven’s Fifth Symphony, <br /> (<i>Part II.</i>)</h4> -<p class='c005'>Marx finds in this symphony the problem -so often treated by Beethoven—the collision -of freedom with fate. “Through -night to day, through strife to victory!” -Beethoven, in his conversation with -Schindler, speaking of the first “motive” -at the beginning, said, “Thus Fate knocks -at the door.” This knocking of Fate -comes in continually during the first movement. -“We have an immense struggle -portrayed. Life is a struggle—this seems -to be the content of this movement.” The -soul finds a solution to this and sings its -pæan of joy.</p> - -<p class='c006'>In the second movement (<i>andante</i>) we -have an expression of the more satisfactory -solution of the Problem of Life, which -we alluded to when speaking of the Sonata -above.</p> - -<p class='c006'>It (“The storm-tossed soul”) has in -that consoling thought reached the harbor -of infinite rest—infinite rest in the sense -of an “activity which is a true repose.”</p> - -<p class='c006'>The soul has found this solution, and -repeats it over to assure itself of its reality -(1, 1, 1, 7, 1, 2, 1—these are the notes -which express it). Then it wishes to make -the experience of the universality of this -solution—it desires to try its validity in -all the spheres where Fate ruled previously. -It sets out and ascends the scale three steps -at a time (5, 1, 1, 2, 3—1, 3, 3, 4, 5) it -reaches 5 of the scale, and ought to reach 8 -the next time. It looks up to it as the celestial -sun which Gothic Architecture points -toward and aspires after. Could it only -get there, it would find true rest! But its -command of this guiding thought is not -yet quite perfect—it cannot wield it so as -to fly across the abyss and reach that place -of repose without a leap—a “mortal leap.” -For the ascent by threes has reached a -place where another three would bring it -to 7 of the scale—the point of absolute -unrest; to step four, is to contradict the -rhythm or method of its procedure. It -pauses, therefore, upon 5—it tries the next -three thoughtfully twice, and then, hearing -below once more the mocking tones of Fate, -it springs over the chasm and clutches the -support above, while through all the -spheres there rings the sound of exultation.</p> - -<p class='c006'>But to reach the goal by a leap—to have -no bridge across the gulf at the end of the -road—is not a satisfactory solution of the -difficulty. Hence we have a manifold endeavor—a -striving to get at the true -method, which wanders at first in the -darkness, but comes at length to the light; -it gets the proper form for its idea, and -gives up its unwieldy method of threes (1, -2, 3—3, 4, 5), and ascends by the infinite -form of 1, 3, 5—3, 5, 8—5, 8, 3, &c., which -gives it a complete access to, and control -over, all above and below.</p> - -<p class='c006'>The complete self-equipoise expressed in -that solution which comes in at intervals -through the whole, and the bold application -of the first method, followed by the -faltering when it comes to the defect—the -grand exultation over the final discovery -of the true method—all these are indescribably -charming to the lover of music -almost the first time he listens to this symphony, -and they become upon repetition -more and more suggestive of the highest -that art can give.</p> -<div> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_126'>126</span> - <h3 class='c001'>THE ALCHEMISTS. <br /> [“Remarks upon Alchemy and the Alchemists, showing that the Philosopher’s Stone was a Symbol.”—Published by James Miller, New York, 1867.]</h3> -</div> -<p class='c005'>We have referred in a previous article to -the transition of Religion into Speculative -Philosophy. The Mystics who present this -phase of thought, “express themselves, not -in those universal categories that the Spirit -of the race has formed in language for its -utterance, but they have recourse to symbols -more or less ambiguous, and of insufficient -universality to stand for the -Archetypes themselves.” The Alchemists -belong to this phase of spirit, and we propose -to draw from the little book named -at the head of our article, some of the evidences -of this position. It is there shown -that instead of the transmutation of metals, -the regeneration of man was in view. -Those much-abused men agreed that “The -highest wisdom consists in this,” (quoting -from the Arabic author, Alipili,) “for man -to know himself, because in him God has -placed his eternal Word, by which all -things were made and upheld, to be his -Light and Life, by which he is capable of -knowing all things, both in time and eternity.” -While they claim explicitly to have -as object of their studies the mysteries of -Spirit, they warn the reader against taking -their remarks upon the metals in a literal -sense, and speak of those who do so, as -being in error. They describe their processes -in such a way as to apply to man -alone; pains seem to have been taken to -word their descriptions so as to be utterly -absurd when applied to anything else. In -speaking of the “Stone,” they refer to -three states, calling them black, white and -red; giving minute descriptions of each, -so as to leave no doubt that man is represented, -first, as in a “fallen condition;” -secondly, in a “repenting condition;” and -thirdly, as “made perfect through grace.” -This subordination of the outer to the inner, -of the body to the soul, is the constantly -recurring theme. Instead of seeking -a thing not yet found—which would -be the case with a stone for the transmutation -of metals, they agree in describing -the “Stone” as already known. They refer -constantly to such speculative doctrines -as “Nature is a whole everywhere,” showing -that their subject possesses universality. -This metal or mineral is described -thus: “Minerals have their roots in the -air, their heads and tops in the earth. Our -Mercury is aërial; look for it, therefore, in -the air and the earth.” The author of the -work from which we quote the passage, -says by way of comment: “In this passage -‘Minerals’ and ‘our Mercury’ refer to -the same thing, and it is the subject of -Alchemy, the Stone; and we may remember -that Plato is said to have defined or -described <i>Man</i> as a growth having his root -in the air, his tops in the earth. Man -walks indeed upon the surface of the earth, -as if nothing impeded his vision of heaven; -but he walks nevertheless at the bottom of -the atmosphere, and between these two, -his <i>root</i> in air, he must work out his salvation.” -A great number of these “Hermetic -writers” established their reputation for -wit and wisdom by discoveries in the practical -world, and it is difficult to believe -that such men as Roger Bacon, Van Helmont, -Ramond Lulli, Jerome Cardan, Geber, -(“The Wise”), Avicenna, Albertus -Magnus, Thomas Aquinas, and others not -inferior, could have deceived themselves -as the modern theory implies, viz: that -they were searching a chemical recipe for -the manufacture of gold. The symbolic -form of statement was esteemed at that -time as the highest form of popular exposition -for the Infinite and the religious -problems concerning God, the Soul and the -Universe. It seems that those writers considered -such words as “God,” “Spirit,” -“Heaven,” and words of like deep import, -as not signifying the thing intended only -so far as the one who used them, comprehended -them. Thus, if God was spoken -of by one who sensuously imaged Him, -here was idolatry, and the second commandment -was broken. To the Platonist, -“God” was the name of the Absolute Universal, -and hence included <i>subject</i> as well -as <i>object</i> in thinking. Hence if one objectified -God by conceiving Him, he necessarily -<span class='pageno' id='Page_127'>127</span>limited God, or rather, had no real -knowledge of Him. Said Sextus, the -Pythagorean: “Do not investigate the -name of God, because you will not find it. -For everything which is called by a name, -receives its appellation from that which is -more worthy than itself, so that it is one -person that calls, and another that hears. -Who is it, therefore, that has given a name -to God? <i>God</i>, however, is not a name for -God, but an indication of what we conceive -of him.” From such passages we can see -why the Alchemists called this “Ineffable -One,” <i>Mercury</i>, <i>Luna</i>, <i>Sol</i>, <i>Argent vive</i>, -<i>Phœbus</i>, <i>Sulphur</i>, <i>Antimony</i>, <i>Elixir</i>, <i>Alcahest</i>, -<i>Salt</i>, and other whimsical names, letting -the predicates applied determine the -nature of what was meant. If a writer, -speaking of “Alcahest,” should say that it -is a somewhat that rises in the east, and -sets in the west, gives light to the earth, -and causes the growth of plants by its -heat, &c., we should not misunderstand -his meaning—it would be giving us the nature -of the thing without the common -name. Every one attaches some sort of -significance to the words “Life,” “God,” -“Reason,” “Instinct,” &c., and yet who -comprehends them? It is evident that in -most cases the word stands for the thing, -and hence when one speaks of such things -by name, the hearer yawns and looks listless, -as if he thought: “Well, I know all -about that—I learned that when a child, in -the Catechism.” The Alchemists (and -Du Fresnoy names nearly a thousand of -these prolific writers) determined that no -one should flatter himself that he knew the -nature of the subject before he saw the -predicates applied. Hence the strange -names about which such spiritual doctrines -were inculcated. “If we have concealed -anything,” says Geber, “ye sons of learning, -wonder not, for we have not concealed -it from you, but have delivered it in such -language as that it may be hid from evil -men, and that the unjust and vile might -not know it. But, ye sons of Truth, search, -and you shall find this most excellent gift -of God, which he has reserved for you.”</p> -<h3 class='c001'>EDITORIALS.</h3> -<h4 class='c012'>ORIGINALITY.</h4> -<p class='c005'>It is natural that in America more than -elsewhere, there should be a popular demand -for originality. In Europe, each -nation has, in the course of centuries, accumulated -a stock of its own peculiar creations. -America is sneered at for the lack -of these. We have not had time as yet to -develop spiritual capital on a scale to correspond -to our material pretensions. -Hence, we, as a people, feel very sensitive -on this point, and whenever any new literary -enterprise is started, it is met on -every hand by inquiries like these: “Is it -original, or only an importation of European -ideas?” “Why not publish something -indigenous?” It grows cynical at -the sight of erudition, and vents its spleen -with indignation: “Why rifle the graves -of centuries? You are no hyena! Does -not the spring bring forth its flowers, and -every summer its swarms of gnats? Why -build a bridge of rotten coffin planks, or -wear a wedding garment of mummy wrappage? -Why desecrate the Present, by offering -it time-stained paper from the -shelves of the Past?”</p> - -<p class='c006'>In so far as these inquiries are addressed -to our own undertaking, we have a word to -offer in self-justification. We have no objection -to originality of the right stamp. -An originality which cherishes its own little -idiosyncrasies we despise. If we must -differ from other people, let us differ in -having a wide cosmopolitan culture. “All -men are alike in possessing defects,” says -Goethe; “in excellencies alone, it is, that -great differences may be found.”</p> - -<p class='c006'>What philosophic originality may be, we -hope to show by the following consideration:</p> - -<p class='c006'>It is the province of Philosophy to dissolve -and make clear to itself the entire -phenomena of the world. These phenomena -consist of two kinds: <i>first</i>, the products -of nature, or immediate existence; -<i>second</i>, the products of spirit, including -what modifications man has wrought upon -<span class='pageno' id='Page_128'>128</span>the former, and his independent creations. -These spiritual products may be again -subdivided into <i>practical</i> (in which the -<i>will</i> predominates)—the institutions of -civilization—and <i>theoretical</i> (in which -the <i>intellect</i> predominates)—art, religion, -science, &c. Not only must Philosophy -explain the immediate phenomena of nature—it -must also explain the mediate -phenomena of spirit. And not only are the -institutions of civilization proper objects -of study, but still more is this theoretic -side that which demands the highest activity -of the philosopher.</p> - -<p class='c006'>To examine the thoughts of man—to unravel -them and make them clear—must -constitute the earliest employment of the -speculative thinker; his first business is to -comprehend the thought of the world; to -dissolve for himself the solutions which -have dissolved the world before him. -Hence, the prevalent opinion that it is far -higher to be an “original investigator” -than to be engaged in studying the -thoughts of others, leaves out of view the -fact that the thoughts of other men are -just as much objective phenomena to the -individual philosopher as the ground he -walks on. They need explanation just as -much. If I can explain the thoughts of -the profoundest men of the world, and -make clear wherein they differed among -themselves and from the truth, certainly -I am more original than they were. For -is not “original” to be used in the sense of -<i>primariness</i>, of approximation to the absolute, -universal truth? He who varies from -the truth must be secondary, and owe his -deflections to somewhat alien to his being, -and therefore be himself subordinate -thereto. Only the Truth makes Free and -Original. How many people stand in the -way of their own originality! If an absolute -Science should be discovered by anybody, -we could all become absolutely original -by mastering it. So much as I have -mastered of science, I have dissolved into -me, and have not left it standing alien -and opposed to me, but it is now my own.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Our course, then, in the practical endeavor -to elevate the tone of American thinking, -is plain: we must furnish convenient -access to the deepest thinkers of ancient -and modern times. To prepare translations -and commentary, together with original -exposition, is our object. Originality -will take care of itself. Once disciplined -in Speculative thought, the new growths of -our national life will furnish us objects -whose comprehension shall constitute -original philosophy without parallel. -Meanwhile it must be confessed that those -who set up this cry for originality are not -best employed. Their ideals are commonplace, -and their demand is too easily satisfied -with the mere whimsical, and they -do not readily enough distinguish therefrom -the excellent.</p> -<h4 class='c012'>CONTENTS OF THE JOURNAL.</h4> -<p class='c005'>Thus far the articles of this journal -have given most prominence to art in its -various forms. The speculative content -of art is more readily seen than that of -any other form, for the reason that its -sensuous element allows a more genial exposition. -The critique of the Second Part -of Faust, by Rosencrantz, published in -this number, is an eminent example of the -effect which the study of Speculative Philosophy -has upon the analytical understanding. -Is not the professor of logic -able to follow the poet, and interpret the -products of his creative imagination? The -portion of Hegel’s Æsthetics, published in -this number, giving, as it does, the historical -groundwork of art, furnishes in a -genial form an outline of the Philosophy -of History. Doubtless the characteristics -of the Anglo-Saxon mind make it difficult -to see in art what it has for such nations -as the Italians and Germans; we have the -reflective intellect, and do not readily attain -the standpoint of the creative imagination.</p> -<h4 class='c012'>STYLE.</h4> -<p class='c005'>In order to secure against ambiguity, it -is sometimes necessary to make inelegant -repetitions, and, to give to a limiting clause -its proper degree of subordination, such -devices as parentheses, dashes, etc., have -to be used to such a degree as to disfigure -the page. Capitals and italics are also -used without stint to mark important -words. The adjective has frequently to be -used substantively, and, if rare, this use is -marked by commencing it with a capital.</p> - -<p class='c006'>There are three styles, which correspond -to the three grades of intellectual culture. -The sensuous stage uses simple, categorical -sentences, and relates facts, while the -reflective stage uses hypothetical ones, and -marks relations between one fact and -another; it introduces antithesis. The -stage of the Reason uses the disjunctive -sentence, and makes an assertion exhaustive, -by comprehending in it a multitude -of interdependencies and exclusions. Thus -it happens that the style of a Hegel is very -difficult to master, and cannot be translated -adequately into the sensuous style, -although many have tried it. A person is -very apt to blame the style of a deep -thinker when he encounters him for the -first time. It requires an “expert swimmer” -to follow the discourse, but for no -other reason than that the mind has not -acquired the strength requisite to grasp in -one thought a wide extent of conceptions.</p> -<div class='chapter'> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_129'>129</span> - <h2 class='c004'>THE JOURNAL OF SPECULATIVE PHILOSOPHY. <br /> Vol. I. 1867. No. 3.</h2> -</div> -<h3 class='c014'>THE MONADOLOGY. <br /> [Translated from the French of <span class='sc'>Leibnitz</span>, by <span class='sc'>F. H. Hedge</span>.]</h3> - -<p class='c010'>1. The Monad, of which we shall here -speak, is merely a simple substance entering -into those which are compound; simple, -that is to say, without parts.</p> - -<p class='c006'>2. And there must be simple substances, -since there are compounds; for the compound -is only a collection or aggregate of -simples.</p> - -<p class='c006'>3. Where there are no parts, neither extension, -nor figure, nor divisibility is possible; -and these Monads are the veritable -Atoms of Nature—in one word, the Elements -of things.</p> - -<p class='c006'>4. There is thus no danger of dissolution, -and there is no conceivable way in -which a simple substance can perish naturally.</p> - -<p class='c006'>5. For the same reason, there is no way -in which a simple substance can begin -naturally, since it could not be formed by -composition.</p> - -<p class='c006'>6. Therefore we may say that the Monads -can neither begin nor end in any -other way than all at once; that is to -say, they cannot begin except by creation, -nor end except by annihilation; whereas -that which is compounded, begins and ends -by parts.</p> - -<p class='c006'>7. There is also no intelligible way in -which a Monad can be altered or changed -in its interior by any other creature, since -it would be impossible to transpose anything -in it, or to conceive in it any internal -movement—any movement excited, -directed, augmented or diminished -within, such as may take place in compound -bodies, where there is change of -parts. The Monads have no windows -through which anything can enter or go -forth. It would be impossible for any accidents -to detach themselves and go forth -from the substances, as did formerly the -Sensible Species of the Schoolmen. Accordingly, -neither substance nor accident -can enter a Monad from without.</p> - -<p class='c006'>8. Nevertheless Monads must have qualities—otherwise -they would not even be -entities; and if simple substances did not -differ in their qualities, there would be no -means by which we could become aware of -the changes of things, since all that is in -compound bodies is derived from simple -ingredients, and Monads, being without -qualities, would be indistinguishable one -from another, seeing also they do not differ -in quantity. Consequently, a <i>plenum</i> -being supposed, each place could in any -movement receive only the just equivalent -of what it had had before, and one state -of things would be indistinguishable from -another.</p> - -<p class='c006'>9. Moreover, each Monad must differ -from every other, for there are never two -beings in nature perfectly alike, and in -which it is impossible to find an internal -difference, or one founded on some intrinsic -denomination.</p> - -<p class='c006'>10. I take it for granted, furthermore, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_130'>130</span>that every created being is subject to -change—consequently the created Monad; -and likewise that this change is continual -in each.</p> - -<p class='c006'>11. It follows, from what we have now -said, that the natural changes of Monads -proceed from an internal principle, since -no external cause can influence the interior.</p> - -<p class='c006'>12. But, besides the principle of change, -there must also be a detail of changes, -embracing, so to speak, the specification -and the variety of the simple substances.</p> - -<p class='c006'>13. This detail must involve multitude -in unity or in simplicity: for as all natural -changes proceed by degrees, something -changes and something remains, and consequently -there must be in the simple substance -a plurality of affections and relations, -although there are no parts.</p> - -<p class='c006'>14. This shifting state, which involves -and represents multitude in unity, or in -the simple substance, is nothing else than -what we call Perception, which must be -carefully distinguished from <i>apperception</i>, -or consciousness, as will appear in the sequel. -Here it is that the Cartesians have -especially failed, making no account of -those perceptions of which we are not conscious. -It is this that has led them to -suppose that spirits are the only Monads, -and that there are no souls of brutes or -other Entelechies. It is owing to this that -they have vulgarly confounded protracted -torpor with actual death, and have fallen -in with the scholastic prejudice, which believes -in souls entirely separate. Hence, -also, ill affected minds have been confirmed -in the opinion that the soul is mortal.</p> - -<p class='c006'>15. The action of the internal principle -which causes the change, or the passage -from one perception to another, may be -called Appetition. It is true, the desire -cannot always completely attain to every -perception to which it tends, but it always -attains to something thereof, and arrives -at new perceptions.</p> - -<p class='c006'>16. We experience in ourselves the fact -of multitude in the simple substance, when -we find that the least thought of which we -are conscious includes a variety in its object. -Accordingly, all who admit that the -soul is a simple substance, are bound to -admit this multitude in the Monad, and -Mr. Boyle should not have found any difficulty -in this admission, as he has done in -his dictionary—Art. Rorarius.</p> - -<p class='c006'>17. Besides, it must be confessed that -Perception and its consequences are inexplicable -by mechanical causes—that is to -say, by figures and motions. If we imagine -a machine so constructed as to produce -thought, sensation, perception, we -may conceive it magnified—the same proportions -being preserved—to such an extent -that one might enter it like a mill. -This being supposed, we should find in it on -inspection only pieces which impel each -other, but nothing which can explain a -perception. It is in the simple substance, -therefore—not in the compound, or in -machinery—that we must look for that -phenomenon; and in the simple substance -we find nothing else—nothing, that is, but -perceptions and their changes. Therein -also, and therein only, consist all the internal -acts of simple substances.</p> - -<p class='c006'>18. We might give the name of Entelechies -to all simple substances or created -Monads, inasmuch as there is in them a -certain completeness (perfection), (ἔχουσι -τὸ ἔντελες). There is a sufficiency (αὐτάρκεια) -which makes them the sources of their own -internal actions, and, as it were, incorporeal -automata.</p> - -<p class='c006'>19. If we choose to give the name of -soul to all that has perceptions and desires, -in the general sense which I have -just indicated, all simple substances or -created Monads may be called souls. But -as sentiment is something more than simple -perception, I am willing that the general -name of Monads and Entelechies shall -suffice for those simple substances which -have nothing but perceptions, and that the -term souls shall be confined to those whose -perceptions are more distinct, and accompanied -by memory.</p> - -<p class='c006'>20. For we experience in ourselves a -state in which we remember nothing, and -have no distinct perception, as when we -are in a swoon or in a profound and -dreamless sleep. In this state the soul -does not differ sensibly from a simple -Monad; but since this state is not permanent, -and since the soul delivers herself -from it, she is something more.</p> - -<p class='c006'><span class='pageno' id='Page_131'>131</span>21. And it does not by any means follow, -in that case, that the simple substance -is without perception: that, indeed, -is impossible, for the reasons given above; -for it cannot perish, neither can it subsist -without affection of some kind, which is -nothing else than its perception. But -where there is a great number of minute -perceptions, and where nothing is distinct, -one is stunned, as when we turn round and -round in continual succession in the same -direction; whence arises a vertigo, which -may cause us to faint, and which prevents -us from distinguishing anything. And -possibly death may produce this state for -a time in animals.</p> - -<p class='c006'>22. And as every present condition of a -simple substance is a natural consequence -of its antecedent condition, so its present -is big with its future.</p> - -<p class='c006'>23. Then, as on awaking from a state of -stupor, we become conscious of our perceptions, -we must have had perceptions, -although unconscious of them, immediately -before awaking. For each perception -can have no other natural origin but -an antecedent perception, as every motion -must be derived from one which preceded -it.</p> - -<p class='c006'>24. Thus it appears that if there were -no distinction—no relief, so to speak—no -enhanced flavor in our perceptions, we -should continue forever in a state of stupor; -and this is the condition of the naked -Monad.</p> - -<p class='c006'>25. And so we see that nature has given -to animals enhanced perceptions, by the -care which she has taken to furnish them -with organs which collect many rays of -light and many undulations of air, increasing -their efficacy by their union. -There is something approaching to this in -odor, in taste, in touch, and perhaps in a -multitude of other senses of which we -have no knowledge. I shall presently explain -how that which passes in the soul -represents that which takes place in the -organs.</p> - -<p class='c006'>26. Memory gives to the soul a kind of -consecutive action which imitates reason, -but must be distinguished from it. We -observe that animals, having a perception -of something which strikes them, and of -which they have previously had a similar -perception, expect, through the representation -of their memory, the recurrence of -that which was associated with it in their -previous perception, and incline to the -same feelings which they then had. For -example, when we show dogs the cane, -they remember the pain which it caused -them, and whine and run.</p> - -<p class='c006'>27. And the lively imagination, which -strikes and excites them, arises from the -magnitude or the multitude of their previous -perceptions. For often a powerful -impression produces suddenly the effect of -long habit, or of moderate perceptions -often repeated.</p> - -<p class='c006'>28. In men as in brutes, the consecutiveness -of their perceptions is due to the -principle of memory—like empirics in -medicine, who have only practice without -theory. And we are mere empirics in -three-fourths of our acts. For example, -when we expect that the sun will rise to-morrow, -we judge so empirically, because -it has always risen hitherto. Only the astronomer -judges by an act of reason.</p> - -<p class='c006'>29. But the cognition of necessary and -eternal truths is that which distinguishes -us from mere animals. It is this which -gives us Reason and Science, and raises -us to the knowledge of ourselves and of -God; and it is this in us which we call a -reasonable soul or spirit.</p> - -<p class='c006'>30. It is also by the cognition of necessary -truths, and by their abstractions, that -we rise to acts of reflection, which give us -the idea of that which calls itself “I,” -and which lead us to consider that this or -that is in us. And thus, while thinking of -ourselves, we think of Being, of substance, -simple or compound, of the immaterial, -and of God himself. We conceive that -that which in us is limited, is in him without -limit. And these reflective acts furnish -the principal objects of our reasonings.</p> - -<p class='c006'>31. Our reasonings are founded on two -great principles, that of “<i>Contradiction</i>,” -by virtue of which we judge that to be -false which involves contradiction, and -that to be true which is opposed to, or -which contradicts the false.</p> - -<p class='c006'>32. And that of the “<i>Sufficient Reason</i>,” -<span class='pageno' id='Page_132'>132</span>by virtue of which we judge that no fact -can be real or existent, no statement true, -unless there be a sufficient reason why it is -thus, and not otherwise, although these -reasons very often cannot be known to us.</p> - -<p class='c006'>33. There are also two sorts of truths—those -of reasoning and those of fact. -Truths of reasoning are necessary, and -their opposite is impossible; those of fact -are contingent, and their opposite is possible. -When a truth is necessary, we may -discover the reason of it by analysis, resolving -it into simpler ideas and truths, -until we arrive at those which are ultimate.<a id='r3' /><a href='#f3' class='c015'><sup>[3]</sup></a></p> - -<p class='c006'>34. It is thus that mathematicians by -analysis reduce speculative theorems and -practical canons to definitions, axioms and -postulates.</p> - -<p class='c006'>35. And finally, there are simple ideas -of which no definition can be given; there -are also axioms and postulates,—in one -word, <i>ultimate principles</i>, which cannot -and need not be proved. And these are -“Identical Propositions,” of which the opposite -contains an express contradiction.</p> - -<p class='c006'>36. But there must also be a sufficient -reason for truths contingent, or truths of -fact—that is, for the series of things diffused -through the universe of creatures—or -else the process of resolving into particular -reasons might run into a detail without -bounds, on account of the immense -variety of the things of nature, and of the -infinite division of bodies. There is an -infinity of figures and of movements, present -and past, which enter into the efficient -cause of my present writing; and there is -an infinity of minute inclinations and dispositions -of my soul, present and past, -which enter into the final cause of it.</p> - -<p class='c006'>37. And as all this detail only involves -other anterior or more detailed contingencies, -each one of which again requires a -similar analysis in order to account for it, -we have made no advance, and the sufficient -or final reason must be outside of -the series of this detail of contingencies,<a id='r4' /><a href='#f4' class='c015'><sup>[4]</sup></a> -endless as it may be.</p> - -<p class='c006'>38. And thus the final reason of things -must be found in a necessary Substance, in -which the detail of changes exists eminently -as their source. And this is that -which we call <span class='sc'>God</span>.</p> - -<p class='c006'>39. Now this Substance being a sufficient -reason of all this detail, which also is everywhere -linked together, <i>there is but one -God, and this God suffices</i>.</p> - -<p class='c006'>40. We may also conclude that this supreme -Substance, which is Only,<a id='r5' /><a href='#f5' class='c015'><sup>[5]</sup></a> Universal, -and Necessary—having nothing outside -of it which is independent of it, and -being a simple series of possible beings—must -be incapable of limits, and must contain -as much of reality as is possible.</p> - -<p class='c006'>41. Whence it follows that God is -perfect, perfection being nothing but -the magnitude of positive reality taken -exactly, setting aside the limits or bounds -in that which is limited. And there, where -there are no bounds, that is to say, in God, -perfection is absolutely infinite.</p> - -<p class='c006'>42. It follows also that the creatures -have their perfections from the influence -of God, but they have their imperfections -from their proper nature, incapable of existing -without bounds; for it is by this -that they are distinguished from God.</p> - -<p class='c006'>43. It is true, moreover, that God is not -only the source of existences, but also of -essences, so far as real, or of that which -is real in the possible; because the divine -understanding is the region of eternal -truths, or of the ideas on which they depend, -and without Him there would be -nothing real in the possibilities, and not -only nothing existing, but also nothing -possible.</p> - -<p class='c006'>44. At the same time, if there be a reality -in the essences or possibilities, or in -the eternal truths, this reality must be -founded in something existing and actual, -consequently in the existence of the necessary -Being, in whom essence includes -existence, or with whom it is sufficient to -be possible in order to be actual.</p> - -<p class='c006'>45. Thus God alone (or the necessary -Being) possesses this privilege, that he -must exist if possible; and since nothing -can hinder the possibility of that which -includes no bounds, no negation, and consequently -no contradiction, that alone is -<span class='pageno' id='Page_133'>133</span>sufficient to establish the existence of -God <i>a priori</i>. We have likewise proved it -by the reality of eternal truths. But we -have also just proved it <i>a posteriori</i> by -showing that, since contingent beings exist, -they can have their ultimate and sufficient -reason only in some necessary Being, who -contains the reason of his existence in -himself.</p> - -<p class='c006'>46. Nevertheless, we must not suppose, -with some, that eternal verities, being dependent -upon God, are arbitrary, and depend -upon his will, as Des Cartes, and -afterward M. Poiret, appear to have conceived. -This is true only of contingent -truths, the principle of which is fitness, or -the choice of the best; whereas necessary -truths depend solely on His understanding, -and are its internal object.</p> - -<p class='c006'>47. Thus God alone is the primitive -Unity, or the simple original substance of -which all the created or derived Monads -are the products; and they are generated, -so to speak, by continual fulgurations of -the Divinity, from moment to moment, -bounded by the receptivity of the creature, -of whose existence limitation is an essential -condition.</p> - -<p class='c006'>48. In God is <i>Power</i>, which is the -source of all; then Knowledge, which -contains the detail of Ideas; and, finally, -Will, which generates changes or products -according to the principle of optimism. -And this answers to what, in created -Monads, constitutes the subject or the -basis, the perceptive and the appetitive -faculty. But in God these attributes are -absolutely infinite or perfect, and in the -created Monads, or in the Entelechies (or -<i>perfectihabiis</i>, as Hermolaus Barbarus -translates this word), they are only imitations -according to the measure of their -perfection.</p> - -<p class='c006'>49. The creature is said to act externally, -in so far as it possesses perfection, -and to suffer from another (creature) so -far as it is imperfect. So we ascribe action -to the Monad, so far as it has distinct -perceptions, and passion, so far as its perceptions -are confused.</p> - -<p class='c006'>50. And one creature is more perfect -than another, in this: that we find in it -that which serves to account <i>a priori</i> for -what passes in the other; and it is therefore -said to act upon the other.</p> - -<p class='c006'>51. But in simple substances this is -merely an ideal influence of one Monad -upon another, which can pass into effect -only by the intervention of God, inasmuch -as in the ideas of God one Monad -has a right to demand that God, in regulating -the rest from the commencement of -things, shall have regard to it; for since -a created Monad can have no physical influence -on the interior of another, it is -only by this means that one can be dependent -on another.</p> - -<p class='c006'>52. And hence it is that actions and -passions in creatures are mutual; for God, -comparing two simple substances, finds -reasons in each which oblige him to accommodate -the one to the other. Consequently -that which is active in one view, -is passive in another—active so far as -what we clearly discern in it serves to account -for that which takes place in another, -and passive so far as the reason of -that which passes in it is found in that -which is clearly discerned in another.</p> - -<p class='c006'>53. Now, as in the ideas of God there is -an infinity of possible worlds, and as only -one can exist, there must be a sufficient -reason for the choice of God, which determines -him to one rather than another.</p> - -<p class='c006'>54. And this reason can be no other -than fitness, derived from the different degrees -of perfection which these worlds -contain, each possible world having a -claim to exist according to the measure of -perfection which it enfolds.</p> - -<p class='c006'>55. And this is the cause of the existence -of that Best, which the wisdom of -God discerns, which his goodness chooses, -and his power effects.</p> - -<p class='c006'>56. And this connection, or this accommodation -of all created things to each, -and of each to all, implies in each simple -substance relations which express all the -rest. Each, accordingly, is a living and -perpetual mirror of the universe.</p> - -<p class='c006'>57. And as the same city viewed from -different sides appears quite different, and -is perspectively multiplied, so, in the infinite -multitude of simple substances, -there are given, as it were, so many different -worlds which yet are only the perspectives -<span class='pageno' id='Page_134'>134</span>of a single one, according to the -different points of view of each Monad.</p> - -<p class='c006'>58. And this is the way to obtain the -greatest possible variety with the greatest -possible order—that is to say, the way to -obtain the greatest possible perfection.</p> - -<p class='c006'>59. Thus this hypothesis (which I may -venture to pronounce demonstrated) is the -only one which properly exhibits the greatness -of God. And this Mr. Boyle acknowledges, -when in his dictionary (Art. Rorarius) -he objects to it. He is even disposed -to think that I attribute too much to God, -that I ascribe to him impossibilities; but -he can allege no reason for the impossibility -of this universal harmony, by which -each substance expresses exactly the perfections -of all the rest through its relations -with them.</p> - -<p class='c006'>60. We see, moreover, in that which I -have just stated, the <i>a priori</i> reasons why -things could not be other than they are. -God, in ordering the whole, has respect to -each part, and specifically to each Monad, -whose nature being representative, is by -nothing restrained from representing the -whole of things, although, it is true, this -representation must needs be confused, as -it regards the detail of the universe, and -can be distinct only in relation to a small -part of things, that is, in relation to those -which are nearest, or whose relations to -any given Monad are greatest. Otherwise -each Monad would be a divinity. The -Monads are limited, not in the object, but -in the mode of their knowledge of the -object. They all tend confusedly to the -infinite, to the whole; but they are limited -and distinguished by the degrees of distinctness -in their perceptions.</p> - -<p class='c006'>61. And compounds symbolize in this -with simples. For since the world is a -<i>plenum</i>, and all matter connected, and as -in a <i>plenum</i> every movement has some effect -on distant bodies, in proportion to -their distance, so that each body is affected -not only by those in actual contact with it, -and feels in some way all that happens to -them, but also through their means is affected -by others in contact with those by -which it is immediately touched—it follows -that this communication extends to -any distance. Consequently, each body -feels all that passes in the universe, so -that he who sees all, may read in each that -which passes everywhere else, and even -that which has been and shall be, discerning -in the present that which is removed -in time as well as in space. “Συμπνόιει -Πάντα,” says Hippocrates. But each soul -can read in itself only that which is distinctly -represented in it. It cannot unfold -its laws at once, for they reach into the -infinite.</p> - -<p class='c006'>62. Thus, though every created Monad -represents the entire universe, it represents -more distinctly the particular body -to which it belongs, and whose Entelechy -it is: and as this body expresses the entire -universe, through the connection of -all matter in a <i>plenum</i>, the soul represents -also the entire universe in representing -that body which especially belongs to it.</p> - -<p class='c006'>63. The body belonging to a Monad, -which is its Entelechy or soul, constitutes, -with its Entelechy, what may be termed a -living (thing), and, with its soul, what -may be called an animal. And the body -of a living being, or of an animal, is always -organic; for every Monad, being a -mirror of the universe, according to its -fashion, and the universe being arranged -with perfect order, there must be -the same order in the representative—that -is, in the perceptions of the soul, and consequently -of the body according to which -the universe is represented in it.</p> - -<p class='c006'>64. Thus each organic living body is a -species of divine machine, or a natural -automaton, infinitely surpassing all artificial -automata. A machine made by human art -is not a machine in all its parts. For example, -the tooth of a brass wheel has parts -or fragments which are not artificial to us; -they have nothing which marks the machine -in their relation to the use for which -the wheel is designed; but natural machines—that -is, living bodies—are still -machines in their minutest parts, <i>ad infinitum</i>. -This makes the difference between -nature and art, that is to say, between the -Divine art and ours.</p> - -<p class='c006'>65. And the author of nature was able -to exercise this divine and infinitely wonderful -art, inasmuch as every portion of -nature is not only infinitely divisible, as -<span class='pageno' id='Page_135'>135</span>the ancients knew, but is actually subdivided -without end—each part into parts, -of which each has its own movement. -Otherwise, it would be impossible that -each portion of matter should express the -universe.</p> - -<p class='c006'>66. Whence it appears that there is a -world of creatures, of living (things), of -animals, of Entelechies, of souls, in the -minutest portion of matter.</p> - -<p class='c006'>67. Every particle of matter may be conceived -as a garden of plants, or as a pond -full of fishes. But each branch of each -plant, each member of each animal, each -drop of their humors, is in turn another -such garden or pond.</p> - -<p class='c006'>68. And although the earth and the air -embraced between the plants in the garden, -or the water between the fishes of the -pond, are not themselves plant or fish, -they nevertheless contain such, but mostly -too minute for our perception.</p> - -<p class='c006'>69. So there is no uncultured spot, no -barrenness, no death in the universe—no -chaos, no confusion, except in appearance, -as it might seem in a pond at a distance, -in which one should see a confused motion -and swarming, so to speak, of the -fishes of the pond, without distinguishing -the fishes themselves.</p> - -<p class='c006'>70. We see, then, that each living body -has a governing Entelechy, which in animals -is the soul of the animal. But the -members of this living body are full of -other living bodies—plants, animals—each -of which has its Entelechy, or regent -soul.</p> - -<p class='c006'>71. We must not, however, suppose—as -some who misapprehended my thought -have done—that each soul has a mass or -portion of matter proper to itself, or forever -united to it, and that it consequently -possesses other inferior living existences, -destined forever to its service. For all -bodies are in a perpetual flux, like rivers. -Their particles are continually coming and -going.</p> - -<p class='c006'>72. Thus the soul does not change its -body except by degrees. It is never deprived -at once of all its organs. There are often -metamorphoses in animals, but never Metempsychosis—no -transmigration of souls. -Neither are there souls entirely separated -(from bodies), nor genii without bodies. -God alone is wholly without body.</p> - -<p class='c006'>73. For which reason, also, there is -never complete generation nor perfect -death—strictly considered—consisting in -the separation of the soul. That which we -call generation, is development and accretion; -and that which we call death, is envelopment -and diminution.</p> - -<p class='c006'>74. Philosophers have been much troubled -about the origin of forms, of Entelechies, -or souls. But at the present day, -when, by accurate investigations of plants, -insects and animals, they have become -aware that the organic bodies of nature -are never produced from chaos or from putrefaction, -but always from seed, in which -undoubtedly there had been a <i>preformation</i>; -it has been inferred that not only -the organic body existed in that seed before -conception, but also a soul in that -body—in one word, the animal itself—and -that, by the act of conception, this animal -is merely disposed to a grand transformation, -to become an animal of another species. -We even see something approaching -this, outside of generation, as when worms -become flies, or when caterpillars become -butterflies.</p> - -<p class='c006'>75. Those animals, of which some are -advanced to a higher grade, by means of -conception, may be called <i>spermatic</i>; but -those among them which remain in their -kind—that is to say, the greater portion—are -born, multiply, and are destroyed, like -the larger animals, and only a small number -of the elect among them, pass to a -grander theatre.</p> - -<p class='c006'>76. But this is only half the truth. I -have concluded that if the animal does not -begin to be in the order of nature, it also -does not cease to be in the order of nature, -and that not only there is no generation, -but no entire destruction—no death, strictly -considered. And these <i>a posteriori</i> conclusions, -drawn from experience, accord -perfectly with my principles deduced <i>a priori</i>, -as stated above.</p> - -<p class='c006'>77. Thus we may say, not only that the -soul (mirror of an indestructible universe) -is indestructible, but also the animal itself, -although its machine may often perish in -part, and put off or put on organic spoils.</p> - -<p class='c006'><span class='pageno' id='Page_136'>136</span>78. These principles have furnished me -with a natural explanation of the union, -or rather the conformity between the soul -and the organized body. The soul follows -its proper laws, and the body likewise follows -those which are proper to it, and they -meet in virtue of the preëstablished harmony -which exists between all substances, -as representations of one and the same -universe.</p> - -<p class='c006'>79. Souls act according to the laws of -final causes, by appetitions, means and -ends; bodies act according to the laws of -efficient causes, or the laws of motion. -And the two kingdoms, that of efficient -causes and that of final causes, harmonize -with each other.</p> - -<p class='c006'>80. Des Cartes perceived that souls communicate -no force to bodies, because the -quantity of force in matter is always the -same. Nevertheless, he believed that souls -might change the direction of bodies. But -this was because the world was at that -time ignorant of the law of nature, which -requires the conservation of the same total -direction in matter. Had he known this, -he would have hit upon my system of preëstablished -harmony.</p> - -<p class='c006'>81. According to this system, bodies act -as if there were no souls, and souls act as -if there were no bodies; and yet both act -as though the one influenced the other.</p> - -<p class='c006'>82. As to spirits, or rational souls, although -I find that at bottom the same -principle which I have stated—namely, -that animals and souls begin with the -world and end only with the world—holds -with regard to all animals and living -things, yet there is this peculiarity in rational -animals, that although their spermatic -animalcules, as such, have only -ordinary or sensitive souls, yet as soon as -those of them which are <i>elected</i>, so to -speak, arrive by the act of conception at -human nature, their sensitive souls are -elevated to the rank of reason and to the -prerogative of spirits.</p> - -<p class='c006'>83. Among other differences which distinguish -spirits from ordinary souls, some -of which have already been indicated, -there is also this: that souls in general -are living mirrors, or images of the universe -of creatures, but spirits are, furthermore, -images of Divinity itself, or of the -Author of Nature, capable of cognizing -the system of the universe, and of imitating -something of it by architectonic experiments, -each spirit being, as it were, a -little divinity in its own department.</p> - -<p class='c006'>84. Hence spirits are able to enter into -a kind of fellowship with God. In their -view he is not merely what an inventor is -to his machine (as God is in relation to -other creatures), but also what a prince is -to his subjects, and even what a father is -to his children.</p> - -<p class='c006'>85. Whence it is easy to conclude that -the assembly of all spirits must constitute -the City of God—that is to say, the most -perfect state possible, under the most perfect -of monarchs.</p> - -<p class='c006'>86. This City of God, this truly universal -monarchy, is a moral world within the -natural; and it is the most exalted and the -most divine among the works of God. It -is in this that the glory of God most truly -consists, which glory would be wanting if -his greatness and his goodness were not -recognized and admired by spirits. It is -in relation to this Divine City that he possesses, -properly speaking, the attribute of -<i>goodness</i>, whereas his wisdom and his -power are everywhere manifest.</p> - -<p class='c006'>87. As we have established above, a perfect -harmony between the two natural -kingdoms—the one of efficient causes, the -other of final causes—so it behooves us to -notice here also a still further harmony -between the physical kingdom of nature -and the moral kingdom of grace—that is -to say, between God considered as the -architect of the machine of the universe, -and God considered as monarch of the -divine City of Spirits.</p> - -<p class='c006'>88. This harmony makes all things conduce -to grace by natural methods. This -globe, for example, must be destroyed and -repaired by natural means, at such seasons -as the government of spirits may require, -for the chastisement of some and -the recompense of others.</p> - -<p class='c006'>89. We may say, furthermore, that God -as architect contains entirely God as legislator, -and that accordingly sins must carry -their punishment with them in the order -of nature, by virtue even of the mechanical -<span class='pageno' id='Page_137'>137</span>structure of things, and that good -deeds in like manner will bring their recompense, -through their connection with -bodies, although this cannot, and ought -not always to, take place on the spot.</p> - -<p class='c006'>90. Finally, under this perfect government, -there will be no good deed without -its recompense, and no evil deed without -its punishment, and all must redound to -the advantage of the good—that is to say, -of those who are not malcontents—in this -great commonwealth, who confide in Providence -after having done their duty, and -who worthily love and imitate the Author -of all good, pleasing themselves with the -contemplation of his perfections, following -the nature of pure and genuine Love, -which makes us blest in the happiness of -the loved. In this spirit, the wise and -good labor for that which appears to be -conformed to the divine will, presumptive -or antecedent, contented the while with all -that God brings to pass by his secret will, -consequent and decisive,—knowing that if -we were sufficiently acquainted with the -order of the universe we should find that -it surpasses all the wishes of the wisest, -and that it could not be made better than -it is, not only for all in general, but for -ourselves in particular, if we are attached, -as is fitting, to the Author of All, not only -as the architect and efficient cause of our -being, but also as our master and the final -cause, who should be the whole aim of -our volition, and who alone can make us -blest.</p> - -<h3 class='c001'>A CRITICISM OF PHILOSOPHICAL SYSTEMS. <br /> [Translated from the German of <span class='sc'>J. G. Fichte</span>, by <span class='sc'>A. E. Kroeger</span>.]</h3> -<p class='c009'>[<span class='sc'>Note.</span>—The following completes Fichte’s Second Introduction to the Science of Knowledge, -or his Criticism of Philosophical Systems. In the first division of what follows, Fichte -traces out his own transcendental standpoint in the Kantian Philosophy, and next proceeds, in -the second division, to connect it with what was printed in our previous number, criticising -without mercy the dogmatic standpoint. By the completion of this article, we have given to -the readers of our <i>Journal</i> Fichte’s own great Introductions to that Science of Knowledge, -which is about to be made accessible to American readers through the publishing house of -Messrs. Lippincott & Co., Philadelphia. Our readers are, therefore, especially prepared to enter -upon a study of Fichte’s wonderful system, for none of these Introductions, as indeed none of -Fichte’s works of Science, have ever before been published in the English language. In a subsequent -number we shall print Fichte’s “Sun-clear Statement regarding the true nature of the -Science of Knowledge,” a masterly exhibition of the treatment of scientific subjects in a popular -form. We hope that all who have read, or will read these articles, will also enter upon a -study of the great work which they are designed to prepare for; the study is worth the pains.—<span class='sc'>Editor.</span>]</p> -<h4 class='c012'>I.</h4> -<p class='c005'>It is not the habit of the <i>Science of -Knowledge</i>, nor of its author, to seek protection -under any authority whatever. The -person who has first to see whether this -doctrine agrees with the doctrine of somebody -else before he is willing to be convinced -by it, is not one whom this science -calculates to convince, because the absolute -self-activity and independent faith in -himself which this science presupposes, is -wanting in him.</p> - -<p class='c006'>It was therefore quite a different motive -than a desire to recommend his doctrines, -which led the author of the Science of -Knowledge to state that his doctrine was -in perfect harmony with Kant’s doctrine, -and was indeed the very same. In this -opinion he has been confirmed by the continued -elaboration of his system, which he -was compelled to undertake. Nevertheless, -all others who pass for students of -Kant’s philosophy, and who have spoken -on the subject—whether they were friends -or opponents of the Science of Knowledge—have -unanimously asserted the contrary; -and <i>by their advice</i>, even Kant himself, -who ought certainly best to understand -himself, asserts the contrary. If the author -of the Science of Knowledge were -disposed towards a certain manner of -thinking, this would be welcome news to -him. Moreover, since he considers it no -disgrace to have misunderstood Kant, and -<span class='pageno' id='Page_138'>138</span>foresees that to have misunderstood him -will soon be considered no disgrace by general -opinion, he ought surely not to hesitate -to assume that disgrace, especially as -it would confer upon him the honor of being -the first discoverer of a philosophy -which will certainly become universal, and -be productive of the most beneficial results -for mankind.</p> - -<p class='c006'>It is indeed scarcely explicable why -friends and opponents of the Science of -Knowledge so zealously contradict that assertion -of its author, and why they so -earnestly request him to prove it, although -he never promised to do so, nay, expressly -refused, since such a proof would rather -belong to a future History of Philosophy -than to a present representation of that -system. The opponents of the Science of -Knowledge in thus calling for a proof, are -certainly not impelled by a tender regard -for the fame of the author of that Science; -and the friends of it might surely leave the -subject alone, as I myself have no taste -for such an honor, and seek the only honor -which I know, in quite a different direction. -Do they clamor for this proof in order to -escape my charge, that they did not understand -the writings of Kant? But such an -accusation from the lips of the author of -the Science of Knowledge is surely no reproach, -since he confesses as loudly as possible, -that he also has not understood them, -and that only after he had discovered in -his own way the Science of Knowledge, -did he find a correct and harmonious interpretation -of Kant’s writings. Indeed, that -charge will soon cease to be a reproach -from the lips of anybody. But perhaps -this clamor is raised to escape the charge -that they did not recognize their own doctrine, -so zealously defended by them, when -it was placed before them in a different -shape from their own. If this is the case, -I should like to save them this reproach -also, if there were not another interest, -which to me appears higher than theirs, -and to which their interest <i>shall</i> be sacrificed. -The fact is, I do not wish to be considered -for one moment more than I am, -nor to ascribe to myself a merit which I -do not possess.</p> - -<p class='c006'>I shall therefore, in all probability, be -compelled to enter upon the proof which -they so earnestly demand, and hence improve -the opportunity at present offered -to me.</p> - -<p class='c006'>The Science of Knowledge starts, as we -have just now seen, from an intellectual -contemplation, from the absolute self-activity -of the Ego.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Now it would seem beyond a doubt, and -evident to all the readers of Kant’s writings, -that this man has declared himself -on no subject more decisively, nay, I might -say contemptuously, than in denying this -power of an intellectual contemplation. -This denial seems so thoroughly rooted in -the Kantian System, that, after all the -elaboration of his philosophy, which he -has undertaken <i>since</i><a id='r6' /><a href='#f6' class='c015'><sup>[6]</sup></a> the appearance of -the <i>Critique of Pure Reason</i>, and by means -of which, as will be evident to any one, -the propositions of that first work have received -a far higher clearness and development -than they originally possessed;—he -yet, in one of his latest works, feels constrained -to repeat those assertions with -undiminished energy, and to show that the -present style of philosophy, which treats -all labor and exertion with contempt, as -well as a most disastrous fanaticism, have -resulted from the phantom of an intellectual -contemplation.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Is any further proof needed, that a Philosophy, -which is based on the very thing -so decidedly rejected by the Kantian System, -must be precisely the opposite of that -system, and must be moreover the very -senseless and disastrous system, of which -Kant speaks in that work of his? Perhaps, -however, it might be well first to inquire, -whether the same word may not express -two utterly different conceptions in -the two systems. In Kant’s terminology, -all contemplation is directed upon a <i>Being</i> -(a permanent Remaining); and intellectual -contemplation would thus signify in his -system the immediate consciousness of a -non-sensuous Being, or the immediate consciousness -(through pure thinking) of the -thing per se; and hence a creation of the -<span class='pageno' id='Page_139'>139</span>thing <i>per se</i> through its conception, in -nearly the same manner as the existence -of God is demonstrated from the mere -conception of God;—those who do so must -look upon God’s existence as a mere sequence -of their thinking. Now Kant’s -system—taking the direction it did take—may -have considered it necessary in this -manner to keep the thing <i>per se</i> at a respectful -distance. But the Science of -Knowledge has finished the thing <i>per se</i> in -another manner; that Science knows it to -be the completest perversion of reason, a -purely irrational conception. To that -science all being is necessarily <i>sensuous</i>, -for it evolves the very conception of Being -from the form of sensuousness. That -science regards the intellectual contemplation -of Kant’s system as a phantasm, which -vanishes the moment one attempts to think -it, and which indeed is not worth a name -at all. The intellectual contemplation, -whereof the Science of Knowledge speaks, -is not at all directed upon a Being, but -upon an Activity; and Kant does not even -designate it, (unless you wish to take the -expression “<i>Pure apperception</i>” for such -a designation). Nevertheless, it can be -clearly shown where in Kant’s System it -ought to have been mentioned. I hope -that the <i>categorical imperative</i> of Kant -occurs in consciousness, according to his -System. Now what sort of consciousness -is this of the categorical imperative? This -question Kant never proposed to himself, -because he never treated of the basis of <i>all</i> -Philosophy. In his <i>Critique of Pure Reason</i> -he treated only of theoretical Philosophy, -and could therefore not introduce the -categorical imperative; in his <i>Critique of -Practical Reason</i>, he treated only of practical -Philosophy, wherein the question concerning -the manner of consciousness could -not arise.</p> - -<p class='c006'>This consciousness is doubtless an immediate, -but no sensuous consciousness—hence -exactly what I call intellectual contemplation. -Now, since we have no classical -author in Philosophy, I give it the -latter name, with the same right with -which Kant gives it to something else, -which is a mere nothing; and with the -same right I insist that people ought first to -become acquainted with the significance of -my terminology before proceeding to judge -my system.</p> - -<p class='c006'>My most estimable friend, the Rev. Mr. -Schulz—to whom I had made known my -indefinite idea of building up the whole -Science of Philosophy on the pure Ego, -long before I had thoroughly digested that -idea, and whom I found less opposed to it -than any one else—has a remarkable passage -on this subject. In his review of -Kant’s <i>Critique of Pure Reason</i>, he says: -“The pure, active self-consciousness, in -which really every one’s Ego consists, must -not be confounded—for the very reason -because it can and must teach us in -an immediate manner—with the <i>power -of contemplation</i>, and must not be made to -involve the doctrine that we are in possession -of a <i>supersensuous, intellectual power -of contemplation</i>. For we call <i>contemplation</i> -a <i>representation</i>, which is <i>immediately</i> -related to an object. But pure self-consciousness -is not representation, but is -rather that which first makes a representation -to become really a representation. -If I say, ‘I represent something to myself,’ -it signifies just the same as if I said, ‘I am -conscious that I have a representation of -this object.’”</p> - -<p class='c006'>According to Mr. Schulz, therefore, a -representation is that whereof consciousness -is possible. Now Mr. Schulz also -speaks of pure self-consciousness. Undoubtedly -he knows whereof he speaks, -and hence, as philosopher, he most truly -has a representation of pure self-consciousness. -It was not of this consciousness -of the philosopher, however, that Mr. -Schulz spoke, but of original consciousness; -and hence the significance of his -assertion is this: Originally (i. e. in common -consciousness without philosophical -reflection) mere self-consciousness does -not constitute full consciousness, but is -merely a necessary compound, which -makes full consciousness first possible. -But is it not the same with <i>sensuous</i> contemplation? -Does <i>sensuous</i> contemplation -constitute a consciousness, or is it not -rather merely that whereby a representation -first becomes a representation? Contemplation -without conception is confessedly -<span class='pageno' id='Page_140'>140</span>blind. How, then, can Mr. Schulz -call (sensuous) contemplation (excluding -from it self-consciousness) representation? -From the standpoint of the philosopher, -as we have just seen, self-consciousness is -equally representation; from the standpoint -of original contemplation, sensuous -contemplation is equally <i>not</i> representation. -Or does the conception constitute a -representation? The conception without -contemplation is confessedly empty. In -truth, self-consciousness, sensuous contemplation, -and conception, are, in their -isolated separateness, not representations—they -are only that through which representations -become possible. According to -Kant, to Schulz, and to myself, a complete -representation contains a threefold: -1st. That whereby the representation relates -itself to an object, and becomes the -representative of a <i>Something</i>—and this -we unanimously call the <i>sensuous contemplation</i> -(even if I am myself the object of -my representation, it is by virtue of a sensuous -contemplation, for then I become to -myself a permanent in time); 2d. That -through which the representation relates -itself to the subject, and becomes <i>my</i> representation; -this I also call contemplation -(but <i>intellectual contemplation</i>), because -it has the same relation to the complete -representation which the sensuous -contemplation has; but Kant and Schulz -do not want it called so; and, 3d. That -through which both are united, and only -in this union become representation; and -this we again unanimously call <i>conception</i>.</p> - -<p class='c006'>But to state it tersely: what is really -the Science of Knowledge in two words? -It is this: Reason is absolutely self-determined; -Reason is only for Reason; but -for Reason there is also nothing but Reason. -Hence, everything, which Reason is, -must be grounded in itself, and out of itself, -but not in or out of another—some -external other, which it could never grasp -without giving up itself. In short, the -Science of Knowledge is transcendental -idealism. Again, what is the content of -the Kantian system in two words? I confess -that I cannot conceive it possible how -any one can understand even one sentence -of Kant, and harmonize it with others, except -on the same presupposition which the -Science of Knowledge has just asserted. -I believe that that presupposition is the -everlasting refrain of his system; and I -confess that one of the reasons why I refused -to prove the agreement of the -Science of Knowledge with Kant’s system -was this: It appeared to me somewhat too -ridiculous and too tedious to show up the -forest by pointing out the several trees in -it.</p> - -<p class='c006'>I will cite here one chief passage from -Kant. He says: “The highest principle -of the possibility of all contemplation in -relation to the understanding is this: that -all the manifold be subject to the conditions -of the original unity of apperception.” -That is to say, in other words, -“That something which is contemplated -be also <i>thought</i>, is only possible on condition -that the possibility of the original -unity of apperception can coexist with it.” -Now since, according to Kant, contemplation -also is possible only on condition that -it be thought and comprehended—otherwise -it would remain blind—and since -contemplation itself is thus subject to the -conditions of the possibility of thinking—it -follows that, according to Kant, not -only Thinking immediately, but by the -mediation of thinking, contemplation also, -and hence <i>all consciousness</i>, is subject to -the conditions of the original unity of apperception.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Now, what is this condition? It is true, -Kant speaks of conditions, but he states -only one as a fundamental condition. -What is this condition of the original -unity of apperception? It is this (see § 16 -of the <i>Critique of Pure Reason</i>), “that my -representations <i>can</i> be accompanied by the -‘<i>I</i> think’”—the word “<i>I</i>” alone is italicised -by Kant, and this is somewhat important; -that is to say, <i>I am the thinking</i> in -this thinking.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Of what “I” does Kant speak here? -Perhaps of the Ego, which his followers -quietly heap together by a manifold of -representations, in no single one of which -it was, but in all of which collectively it -now is said to be. Then the words of -Kant would signify this: I, who think D, -am the same I who thought A, B and C, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_141'>141</span>and it is only through the thinking of my -manifold thinking, that I first became I to -myself—that is to say, the <i>identical</i> in the -manifold? In that case Kant would have -been just such a pitiable tattler as these -Kantians; for in that case the possibility -of all thinking would be conditioned, according -to him, by another thinking, and -by the thinking of this thinking; and I -should like to know how we could ever arrive -at a thinking.</p> - -<p class='c006'>But, instead of tracing the consequences -of Kant’s statement, I merely intended to -cite his own words. He says again: “This -representation, ‘<i>I</i> think,’ is an act of spontaneity, -i. e. it cannot be considered as belonging -to ‘sensuousness’.“ (I add: and -hence, also, not to inner sensuousness, to -which the above described identity of consciousness -most certainly does belong.) -Kant continues: “I call it pure apperception, -in order to distinguish it from the -empirical (just described) apperception, -and because it is that self-consciousness, -which, in producing the representation ‘I -think’—which must accompany all other -representations, and is <i>in all consciousness -one and the same</i>—can itself be accompanied -by no other representation.”</p> - -<p class='c006'>Here the character of pure self-consciousness -is surely clearly enough described. -It is in all consciousness the -same—hence undeterminable by any accident -of consciousness; in it the Ego -is only determined through itself, and is -thus absolutely determined. It is also -clear here, that Kant could not have understood -this pure apperception to mean -the consciousness of our individuality, nor -could he have taken the latter for the -former; for the consciousness of my individuality, -as an <i>I</i>, is necessarily conditioned -by, and only possible through, the -consciousness of another individuality, a -<i>Thou</i>.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Hence we discover in Kant’s writings -the conception of the <i>pure Ego</i> exactly as -the Science of Knowledge has described it, -and completely determined. Again, in -what relation does Kant, in the above passage, -place this pure Ego to all consciousness? -As <i>conditioning the same</i>. Hence, -according to Kant, the possibility of all -consciousness is conditioned by the possibility -of the pure Ego, or by pure self-consciousness, -just as the Science of Knowledge -holds. In thinking, the conditioning -is made the prior of the conditioned—for -this is the significance of that relation; -and thus it appears that, according to Kant, -a systematic deduction of all consciousness, -or, which is the same, a System of -Philosophy, must proceed from the pure -Ego, just as the Science of Knowledge -proceeds; and Kant himself has thus suggested -the idea of such a Science.</p> - -<p class='c006'>But some one might wish to weaken this -argument by the following distinction: It -is one thing to <i>condition</i>, and another to -<i>determine</i>.</p> - -<p class='c006'>According to Kant, all consciousness is -only <i>conditioned</i> by self-consciousness; -i. e. the <i>content</i> of that consciousness may -have its ground in something else than -self-consciousness; provided the results of -that grounding do not <i>contradict</i> the conditions -of self-consciousness; those results -need not <i>proceed</i> from self-consciousness, -provided they do not cancel its possibility.</p> - -<p class='c006'>But, according to the Science of Knowledge, -all consciousness is <i>determined</i> -through self-consciousness; i. e. everything -which occurs in consciousness is -<i>grounded</i>, <i>given</i> and <i>produced</i> by the conditions -of self-consciousness, and a ground -of the same in something other than self-consciousness -does not exist at all.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Now, to meet this argument, I must show -that in the present case the <i>determinateness</i> -follows immediately from the <i>conditionedness</i>, -and that, therefore, the distinction -drawn between both is not valid in this instance. -Whosoever says, “All consciousness -is conditioned by the possibility -of self-consciousness, <i>and as such I now -propose to consider it</i>,” knows in this his -investigation, nothing more concerning -consciousness, and abstracts from everything -he may believe, further to know -concerning it. He deduces what is required -from the asserted principle, and only what -he thus has <i>deduced</i> as consciousness is -for him consciousness, and everything else -is and remains nothing. Thus the derivability -from self-consciousness <i>determines</i> -<span class='pageno' id='Page_142'>142</span>for him the extent of that which he holds -to be consciousness, because he starts from -the presupposition that all consciousness -is <i>conditioned</i> by the possibility of self-consciousness.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Now I know very well that Kant has by -no means <i>built up</i> such a system; for if he -had, the author of the Science of Knowledge -would not have undertaken that work, -but would have chosen another branch of -human knowledge for his field. I know -that he has by no means <i>proven</i> his categories -to be conditions of self-consciousness; -I know that he has simply asserted -them so to be; that he has still less deduced -time and space, and that which in -original consciousness is <i>inseparable</i> from -them—the matter which fills time and space—as -such conditions; since of these he has -not even expressly stated, as he has done -in the case of the categories, that they are -such conditions. But I believe I know -quite as well that Kant has <i>thought</i> such -a system; that all his writings and utterances -are fragments and results of this -system, and that his assertions get meaning -and intention only through this presupposition. -Whether he did not himself think -this system with sufficient clearness and -definiteness to enable him to utter it for -others; or whether he did, indeed, think -it thus clearly and merely <i>did not want</i> so -to utter it, as some remarks would seem to -indicate, might, it seems to me, be left undecided; -at least somebody else must investigate -this matter, for I have never asserted -anything on this point.<a id='r7' /><a href='#f7' class='c015'><sup>[7]</sup></a> But, however -such an investigation may result, this -<i>merit</i> surely belongs altogether to the great -man; that he first of all consciously separated -philosophy from external objects, -and led that science into the Self. This is -the spirit and the inmost soul of all his -philosophy, and this also is the spirit and -soul of the Science of Knowledge.</p> - -<p class='c006'>I am reminded of a chief distinction -which is said to exist between the Science -of Knowledge and Kant’s system, and a -distinction which but recently has been -again insisted upon by a man who is justly -supposed to have understood Kant, and -who has shown that he also has understood -the Science of Knowledge. This man is -Reinhold, who, in a late essay, in endeavoring -to prove that I have done injustice -to <i>myself</i>, and to other successful students -of Kant’s writings—in stating what I have -just now reiterated and proved, i. e. that -Kant’s system and the Science of Knowledge -are the same—proceeds to remark: -“The <i>ground</i> of our assertion, that there -is an external something corresponding to -our representations, is most certainly held -by the <i>Critique of Pure Reason</i> to be contained -in the Ego; but only in so far as <i>empirical -knowledge</i> (experience) has taken -place in the Ego as a fact; that is to say, -the <i>Critique of Pure Reason</i> holds that this -empirical knowledge has its ground in the -pure Ego only in relation to its <i>transcendental -content</i>, which is the <i>form</i> of that -knowledge; but in regard to its <i>empirical</i> -content, which gives that knowledge objective -validity, it is grounded in the Ego -through a something <i>which is not the Ego</i>. -Now, a scientific form of philosophy was -not possible so long as that something, -which is not Ego, was looked for outside -of the Ego as ground of the objective reality -of the transcendental content of the -Ego.”</p> - -<p class='c006'>Thus Reinhold. I have not convinced -my readers, or demonstrated my proof, -until I have met this objection.</p> - -<p class='c006'>The (purely historical) question is this: -Has Kant really placed the ground of experience -(in its empirical content) <i>in a -something different from the Ego</i>?</p> - -<p class='c006'>I know very well that all the Kantians, -except Mr. Beck, whose work appeared -after the publication of the Science of -Knowledge, have really understood Kant -to say this. Nay, the last interpreter of -<span class='pageno' id='Page_143'>143</span>Kant, Mr. Schulz, whom Kant himself has -endorsed, thus interprets him. How often -does Mr. Schulz admit that <i>the objective -ground of the appearances is contained in -something which is a thing in itself</i>, &c., -&c. We have just seen how Reinhold also -interprets Kant.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Now it may seem presumptuous for one -man to arise and say: “Up to this moment, -amongst a number of worthy scholars who -have devoted their time and energies to -the interpretation of a certain book, not a -single one has understood that book otherwise -than <i>utterly falsely</i>; they all have discovered -in that system the very doctrine -which it refutes—dogmatism, instead of -transcendental idealism; <i>and I alone understand -it rightly</i>.” Yet this presumption -might be but seemingly so; for it is to be -hoped that other persons will adopt that -one man’s views, and that, therefore, he -will not always stand alone. There are -other reasons why it is not very presumptuous -to contradict the whole number of -Kantians, but I will not mention them -here.</p> - -<p class='c006'>But what is most curious in this matter -is this—the discovery that Kant did not -intend to speak of a something different -from the Ego, is by no means a new one. -For ten years everybody could read the -most thorough and complete proof of it -in Jacobi’s “Idealism and Realism,” and -in his “Transcendental Idealism.” In -those works, Jacobi has put together the -most evident and decisive passages from -Kant’s writings on this subject, in Kant’s -own words. I do not like to do again -what has once been done, and cannot -be done better; and I refer my readers -with the more pleasure to those works, as -they, like all philosophical writings of -Jacobi, may be even yet of advantage to -them.</p> - -<p class='c006'>A few questions, however, I propose to -address to those interpreters of Kant. -Tell me, how far does the applicability of -the categories extend, according to Kant, -particularly of the category of causality? -Clearly only to the field of appearances, -and hence only to that which is already -in us and for us. But in what manner do -we then come to accept a something different -from the Ego, as the ground of the -empirical content of Knowledge? I answer: -only by drawing a conclusion from -the grounded to the ground; hence by applying -the category of causality. Thus, -indeed, Kant himself discovers it to be, -and hence rejects the assumption of <i>things, -&c., &c., outside of us</i>. But his interpreters -make him forget for the present instance -the validity of categories generally, -and make him arrive, by a bold leap, from -the world of appearances to the thing <i>per -se</i> outside of us. Now, how do these interpreters -justify this inconsequence?</p> - -<p class='c006'>Kant evidently speaks of a thing <i>per se</i>. -But what is this thing to him? A <i>noumenon</i>, -as we can find in many passages of his -writings. Reinhold and Schulz also hold -it to be a <i>noumenon</i>. Now, what is a <i>noumenon</i>? -According to Kant, to Reinhold, -and Schulz, a something, which our <i>thinking</i>—by -laws to be shown up, and which -Kant has shown up—<i>adds</i> to the appearance, -and which <i>must</i> so be added in -<i>thought</i>;<a id='r8' /><a href='#f8' class='c015'><sup>[8]</sup></a> which, therefore, is produced -<i>only through our thinking</i>; not, however, -through our <i>free</i>, but through a <i>necessary</i> -thinking, which is only <i>for our thinking</i>—for -us thinking beings.</p> - -<p class='c006'>But what do those interpreters make of -this <i>noumenon</i> or thing in itself? The -thought of this thing in itself is grounded -in sensation, and sensation they again -assert to be grounded in the thing in itself. -Their globe rests on the great elephant, -and the great elephant—rests on the globe. -Their thing in itself, which is a mere -thought, they say <i>affects</i> the Ego. Have -they then forgotten their first speech, and -is the thing, <i>per se</i>, which a moment ago -was but a mere thought, now turned into -something more? Or do they seriously -mean to apply to a mere thought, the exclusive -predicate of reality, i. e. causality? -And such teachings are put forth as the -<span class='pageno' id='Page_144'>144</span>astonishing discoveries of the great genius, -who, with his torch, lights up the retrograde -philosophical century.</p> - -<p class='c006'>It is but too well known to me that the -Kantianism of the Kantians is precisely -the just described system—is really this -monstrous composition of the most vulgar -dogmatism, which allows things <i>per se</i> to -make impressions upon us, and of the most -decided idealism, which allows all being -to be generated only through the thinking -of the intelligence, and which knows nothing -of any other sort of being. From what -I am yet going to say on this subject, I -except two men—Reinhold, because with -a power of mind and a love of truth which -do credit to his heart and head, he has -abandoned this system, (which, however, -he still holds to be the Kantian system, -and I only disagree with him on this purely -historical question,) and Schulz, because -he has of late been silent on philosophical -questions, which leaves it fair to assume -that he has begun to doubt his former -system.</p> - -<p class='c006'>But concerning the others, it must be -acknowledged by all who have still their -inner sense sufficiently under control to -be able to distinguish between being and -thinking and not to mix both together, -that a system which thus mixes being -and thinking receives but too much -honor if it is spoken of seriously. To be -sure, very few men may be properly required -to overcome the natural tendency -towards dogmatism sufficiently to lift -themselves up to the free flight of Speculation. -What was impossible for a man -of overwhelming mental activity like -Jacobi, how can it be expected of certain -other men, whom I would rather not name? -But that these incurable dogmatists should -have persuaded themselves that Kant’s -<i>Critique of Pure Reason</i> was food for them; -that they had the boldness to conclude—since -Kant’s writings had been praised -(God may know by what chance!) in some -celebrated journal—they might also now -follow the fashion and become Kantians; -that since then, for years, they, in their -intoxication, have be-written many a ream -of valuable paper, without ever, in all this -time, having come to their senses, or understood -but one period of all they have -written; that up to the present day, -though they have been somewhat rudely -shaken, they have not been able to rub the -sleep out of their eyes, but rather prefer -to beat and kick about them, in the hope -of striking some of these unwelcome disturbers -of their peace; and that the German -public, so desirous of acquiring -knowledge, should have bought their -blackened paper with avidity, and attempted -to suck up the spirit of it—nay, -should even, perhaps, have copied and recopied -these writings without ever clearly -perceiving that there was no sense in -them: all this will forever, in the annals -of philosophy, remain the disgrace of our -century, and our posterity will be able to -explain these occurrences of our times -only on the presupposition of a mental -epidemic, which had taken hold of this -age.</p> - -<p class='c006'>But, will these interpreters reply: your -argument is, after all—if we abstract from -Jacobi’s writings, which, to be sure, are -rather hard to swallow, since they quote -Kant’s own words—no more than this: it -is absurd; hence Kant cannot have meant -to say it. Now, if we admit the absurdity, -as unfortunately we must, why, then, -might not Kant have said these absurdities, -just as well as we others, amongst -whom there are some, of whom you yourself -confess the merits, and to whom you -doubtless will not deny all sound understanding?</p> - -<p class='c006'>I reply: to be the inventor of a system is -one thing, and to be his commentators and -successors, another. What, in case of the -latter, would not testify to an absolute want -of sound sense, might certainly evince it in -the former. The ground is this: the latter -are not yet possessed of the idea of the -whole—for if they were so possessed, there -would be no necessity for them to study -the system; they are merely to construct -it out of the <i>parts</i> which the inventor -hands over to them; and all these parts -are, in their minds, not fully determined, -rounded off, and made smooth, until they -are united into a natural whole. Now, -this construction of the parts may require -some time, and during this time it may -<span class='pageno' id='Page_145'>145</span>occur that these men determine some parts -inaccurately, and hence place them in contradiction -with the whole, of which they -are not yet possessed. The discoverer of -the idea of the whole, on the contrary, -proceeds from this idea, in which all parts -are united, and these parts he separately -places before his readers, because only -thus can he communicate the whole. The -work of the former is a synthetizing of -that which they do not yet possess, but are -to obtain through the synthesis; the work -of the latter is an analyzing of that which -he already possesses. It is very possible -that the former may not be aware of the -contradiction in which the several parts -stand to the whole which is to be composed -of them, for they may not have got -so far yet as to compare them. But it is -quite certain that the latter, who proceeded -from the composite, must have thought, -or believed that he thought, the contradiction -which is in the parts of his representation—for -<i>he</i> certainly at one time held all -the parts together. It is not absurd to -think dogmatism now, and in another moment -transcendental idealism; for this we -all do, and must do, if we wish to philosophize -about both systems; but it is absurd -to think both systems as <i>one</i>. The -interpreters of Kant’s system do not necessarily -think it thus as one; but the author -of that system must certainly have done -so if his system was intended to effect -such a union.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Now, I, at least, am utterly incapable of -believing such an absurdity on the part of -any one who has his senses; how, then, -can I believe Kant to have been guilty of -it? Unless Kant, therefore, declares expressly -in so many words, <i>that he deduces -sensation from an impression of the thing</i>, -<i>per se</i>, or, to use his own terminology, <i>that -sensation must be explained in philosophy, -from a transcendental object which exists -outside of us</i>, I shall not believe what -these interpreters tell us of Kant. But if -he does make this declaration, I shall consider -the <i>Critique of Pure Reason</i> rather as -the result of the most marvellous accident -than as the product of a mind.</p> - -<p class='c006'>But, say our opponents, does not Kant -state expressly that “The object is given -to us,” and “that this is possible because -the object affects us as in a certain manner,” -and “that there is a power of attaining -representations by the manner in -which objects affect us, which power is -called <i>sensuousness</i>.” Nay, Kant says even -this: “How should our knowledge be -awakened into exercise if it were not done -by objects that touch our senses and -partly produce representations themselves, -while partly putting our power of understanding -into motion, to compare, connect -and separate these representations, and -thus to form the <i>raw material</i> of our sensuous -impressions into a knowledge which -is called experience.” Well, these are -probably all the passages which can be -adduced by our opponents. Now, putting -merely passages against passages, and -words against words, and abstracting altogether -from the idea of the whole, -which I assume these interpreters never to -have had, let me ask first, if these passages -could really not be united with Kant’s -other frequently repeated statements, viz., -that it is folly to speak of an impression -produced upon us by an external transcendental -object,—how did it happen -that these interpreters preferred to sacrifice -the many statements, which assert a -transcendental idealism, to these <i>few</i> passages, -which assert a dogmatism, than -<i>vice versa</i>? Doubtless because they did -not attempt the study of Kant’s writings -with an impartial mind, but had their -heads full of that dogmatism—which constitutes -their very being—as the only correct -system, which they assumed such a -sensible man as Kant must necessarily -also hold to be the only correct system; -and because they thus did not seek to be -taught by Kant, but merely to be confirmed -by him in their old way of thinking.</p> - -<p class='c006'>But cannot these seemingly opposite -statements be united? Kant speaks in -these passages of <i>objects</i>. What this word -is to signify, we clearly must learn from -Kant himself. He says: “It is the understanding -which adds the object to the -appearance, by <i>connecting</i> the manifold -of the appearance <i>in one consciousness</i>. -When this is done, we say we know the -<span class='pageno' id='Page_146'>146</span><i>object</i>, for we have effected a synthetical -unity in the manifold of the contemplation, -and the conception of this unity is -the representation of the object = X. <i>But -this</i> X <i>is not the transcendental object</i> (i. e. -the thing <i>per se</i>), <i>for of that we know not -even so much</i>.”</p> - -<p class='c006'>What, then, is this object? That which -the understanding <i>adds</i> to the appearance, -<i>a mere thought</i>. Now, the object affects—i. -e. <i>something which is a mere thought -affects</i>. What does this mean? If I have -but a spark of logic, it means simply: it -affects in so far as it is; hence <i>it is only -thought as affecting</i>. Let us now see what -Kant means when he speaks about the -“power to obtain representations by the -manner in which objects affect us.” Since -we only <i>think</i> the affection itself, we -doubtless only think likewise that which is -common to the affection. Or: if you posit -an object with the thought that it has -affected you, you think yourself <i>in this -case affected</i>; and if you think that this -occurs in respect to <i>all</i> the objects of your -perception, you think yourself as <i>liable to -be affected generally</i>—or, in other words, -you ascribe to yourself, <i>through this your -thinking</i>, receptivity or sensuousness.</p> - -<p class='c006'>But do we not thus assume, after all, -<i>affection</i> to explain knowledge? Let me -state the difference in one word: it is true, -all our knowledge proceeds from <i>an affection</i>, -but not an affection <i>through an object</i>. -This is Kant’s doctrine, and that of -the Science of Knowledge. As Mr. Beck -has overlooked this important point, and -as Reinhold does not call sufficient attention -to that which makes the positing of a -non-Ego possible, I consider it proper to -explain the matter in a few words. In -doing so I shall use my own terminology, -and not Kant’s, because I naturally have -my own more at my command.</p> - -<p class='c006'>When I posit myself, I posit myself -as a limited; in consequence of the contemplation -of my self-positing, I am finite.</p> - -<p class='c006'>This, my limitedness—since it is the -condition which makes my self-positing -possible—is an original limitedness. -Somebody might wish to explain this still -further, and either deduce the limitedness -of myself as the reflected, from my necessary -limitedness as the reflecting; which -would result in the statement: I am finite -to myself, because I can think only the -finite;—or he might explain the limitedness -of the reflecting from that of the reflected, -which would result in the statement: -I can think only the finite, because -I am finite. But such an explanation -would explain nothing, for I am originally -neither the reflecting nor the reflected, but -<i>both in their union</i>; which union I cannot -think, it is true, because I separate, in -thinking, the reflecting from the reflected.</p> - -<p class='c006'>All limitedness is, by its very conception, -a <i>determined</i>, and not a general limitedness.</p> - -<p class='c006'>From the possibility of an Ego, we have -thus deduced the necessity of a <i>general -limitedness</i> of the Ego. But the <i>determinedness</i> -of this limitedness cannot be deduced, -since it is, as we have seen, that -which conditions all Egoness. Here, -therefore, all deduction is at an end. -This <i>determinedness</i> appears as the absolutely -accidental, and furnishes the <i>merely -empirical</i> of our knowledge. It is this -determinedness, for instance, by virtue of -which I am, amongst all possible rational -beings, a <i>man</i>, and amongst all men this -<i>particular</i> person, &c., &c.</p> - -<p class='c006'>This, my limitation, in its determinedness, -manifests itself as a limitation of -my practical power (here philosophy is -therefore driven from the theoretical to -the practical sphere); and the immediate -perception of this limitation is a <i>feeling</i> (I -prefer to use this word instead of Kant’s -“<i>sensation</i>,” for feeling only becomes -sensation by being related in thinking to -an object); for instance, the feeling of -sweet, red, cold, &c.</p> - -<p class='c006'>To forget this original feeling, leads to -a bottomless transcendental idealism, and -to an incomplete philosophy, which cannot -explain the simply sensible predicates of -objects. Now, the endeavor to explain -this original feeling from the causality of -a <i>something</i>, is the dogmatism of the Kantians, -which I have just shown up, and -which they would like to put on Kant’s -shoulders. This, their something, is the -everlasting thing <i>per se</i>. All <i>transcendental</i> -explanation, on the contrary, stops at -<span class='pageno' id='Page_147'>147</span>the immediate feeling, from the reason -just pointed out. It is true, the <i>empirical</i> -Ego, which transcendental idealism observes, -explains this feeling to itself by -the law, “No limitation without a limiting;” -and thus, through contemplation of -the limiting, produces extended matter, of -which it now, as of its ground, predicates -the merely subjective sensation of feeling; -and it is only by virtue of this synthesis -that the Ego makes itself an object. -The continued analysis and the continued -explanation of its own condition, give to -the Ego its own system of a universe; and -the observation of the laws of this explanation -gives to the philosopher his science. -It is here that Kant’s <i>Realism</i> is based, but -his Realism is a <i>transcendental idealism</i>.</p> - -<p class='c006'>This whole determinedness, and hence -also the total of feelings which it makes -possible, is to be regarded as <i>a priori</i>—i. -e. absolutely, without any action of -our own—determined. It is Kant’s <i>receptivity</i>, -and a particular of this receptivity -is an <i>affection</i>. Without it, consciousness -is unexplainable.</p> - -<p class='c006'>There is no doubt that it is an immediate -fact of consciousness—I feel <i>myself</i> -thus or thus determined. Now, when the -oft-lauded philosophers attempt to <i>explain</i> -this feeling, is it not clear that they attempt -to append something to it which is -not immediately involved in the fact? and -how can they do this, except through -thinking, and through a thinking according -to a category, which category is here that -of the real ground? Now, if they have -not an immediate contemplation of the -thing <i>per se</i> and its relations, what else -can they possibly know of this category, -but that they are compelled to think according -to it? They assert nothing but -that <i>they</i> are compelled to add in thought -a thing as the ground of this feeling. But -this we cheerfully admit in regard to the -standpoint which they occupy. Their -thing is produced by their thinking; and -now it is at the same time to be a thing -<i>per se</i>, i. e. not produced by thinking.</p> - -<p class='c006'>I really do not comprehend them; I can -neither think this thought, nor think an -understanding which does think it; and -by this declaration, I hope I have done -with them forever.</p> -<h4 class='c012'>VII.</h4> -<p class='c005'>Having finished this digression, we now -return to our original intention, which -was to describe the procedure of the Science -of Knowledge, and to justify it -against the attacks of certain philosophers. -We said, the philosopher observes himself -in the act whereby he constructs for himself -the conception of himself; and we -now add, he also <i>thinks this act of his</i>.</p> - -<p class='c006'>For the philosopher, doubtless, knows -whereof he speaks; but a mere contemplation -gives no consciousness; only that is -known which is conceived and thought. -This conception or comprehension of his -activity is very well possible for the philosopher, -since he is already in possession -of experience; for he has a conception of -<i>activity in general, and as such</i>, namely, -as the opposite of the equally well known -conception of <i>Being</i>; and he also has a -conception of this <i>particular</i> activity, as -that of an <i>intelligence</i>, i. e. as simply an -ideal activity, and not the real causality of -the practical Ego; and moreover, a conception -of the peculiar character of this -particular activity as an <i>in itself returning -activity</i>, and not an activity directed upon -an external object.</p> - -<p class='c006'>But here as well as everywhere it is to -be well remembered that the contemplation -is and remains the basis of the conception, -i. e. of that which is conceived in -the conception. We cannot absolutely create -or produce by thinking; we can only -think that which is immediately contemplated -by us. A thinking, which has no -contemplation for its basis, which does not -embrace a contemplation entertained in -the same undivided moment, is an empty -thinking, or is really no thinking at all. -At the utmost it may be the thinking of a -mere sign of the conception, and if this -sign is a word, as seems likely, the mere -thoughtless utterance of this word. I determine -my contemplation by the thinking -of an opposite; this and nothing else is -the meaning of the expression—I comprehend -the contemplation.</p> - -<p class='c006'><span class='pageno' id='Page_148'>148</span>Through thinking, the activity, which -the philosopher thinks, becomes <i>objective</i> -to him, i. e. it floats before him, in so far as -he thinks it, as something which checks -or limits the freedom (the undeterminedness) -of his thinking. This is the true -and original significance of objectivity. -As certain as I think, I think a determined -something; or, in other words, the freedom -of my thinking, which might have been directed -upon an infinite manifold of objects, -is now, when I think, only directed upon -that limited sphere of my thinking which -the present object fills. It is limited to -this sphere. <i>I restrict myself</i> with freedom -to this sphere, if I contemplate <i>myself</i> -in the doing of it. <i>I am restricted</i> by -this sphere, if I contemplate only the <i>object</i> -and forget myself, as is universally done -on the standpoint of common thinking. -What I have just now said is intended to -correct the following objections and misunderstandings.</p> - -<p class='c006'>All thinking is necessarily directed upon -a being, say some. Now the Ego of the -Science of Knowledge is not to have being; -hence it is unthinkable, and the whole -Science, which is built upon such a contradiction, -is null and void.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Let me be permitted to make a preliminary -remark concerning the spirit which -prompts this objection. When the wise -men, who urge it, take the conception of -the Ego as determined in the Science of -Knowledge, and examine it by the rules of -their logic, they doubtless think that conception, -for how else could they compare -and relate it to something else? If they -really could not think it, they would not -be able to say a word about it, and it -would remain altogether unknown to them. -But they have really, as we see, happily -achieved the thinking of it, and so must -be able to think it. Yet, because according -to their traditional and misconceived -rules, they <i>ought to have been</i> unable to -think it, they would now rather deny the -possibility of an act, while doing it, than -give up their rule; they would believe -an old book rather than their own consciousness. -How little can these men be -aware of what they really do! How mechanically, -and without any inner attention -and spirit, must they produce their -philosophical specimens! Master Jourdan -after all was willing to believe that he had -spoken prose all his lifetime, without -knowing it, though it did appear rather -curious; but these men, if they had been -in his place, would have proven in the -most beautiful prose that they could not -speak prose, since they did not possess -the rules of speaking prose, and since the -conditions of the possibility of a thing -must always precede its reality. Nay, if -critical idealism should continue to be a -burden to them, it is to be expected that -they will next go to Aristotle for advice as -to whether they really live, or are already -dead and buried. By doubting the possibility -of ever becoming conscious of their -freedom and Egoness, they are covertly -already doubting this very point.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Their objection might therefore be summarily -put aside, since it contradicts, and -thus annihilates itself. But let us see -where the real ground of the misunderstanding -may be concealed.</p> - -<p class='c006'>All thinking necessarily proceeds from -a being, say they. Now what does this -mean? If it is to mean what we have just -shown up, namely, that there is in all -thinking a thought, an object of the thinking, -to which this particular thinking confines -itself, and by which it seems to be -limited, then their premise must undoubtedly -be admitted; and it is not the Science -of Knowledge which is going to deny -it. This objectivity for the mere thinking -does doubtless also belong to the Ego, -from which the Science of Knowledge proceeds; -or, which means the same, to the -act whereby the Ego constructs itself for -itself. But it is only through thinking -and only for thinking that it has this objectivity; -it is merely an <i>ideal</i> being.</p> - -<p class='c006'>If, however, the being, of their above -assertion, is to mean not a <i>mere ideal</i>, but -a <i>real</i> being, i. e. a something, limiting -not only the ideal, but also the actually -productive, the practical activity of the -Ego—that is to say, a something permanent -in time and persistent in space—then -that assertion of theirs is unwarranted. -<span class='pageno' id='Page_149'>149</span>If it were correct, no science of philosophy -were possible, for the conception of -the Ego would be unthinkable; and self-consciousness, -nay, even consciousness, -would also be impossible. If it were correct, -we, it is true, should be compelled to -stop philosophizing; but this would be no -gain to them, for they would also have to -stop refuting us. But do they not themselves -repudiate the correctness of their -assertion? Do they not think themselves -every moment of their life as free and as -having causality? Do they not, for instance, -think themselves the free, active -authors of the very sensible and very -original objections, which they bring up -from time to time against our system? -Now, is then this “themselves” something -which checks and limits their causality, -or is it not rather the very opposite of the -check, namely, the very causality itself? -I must refer them to what I have said in -§ v. on this subject. If such a sort of -being were ascribed to the Ego, the Ego -would cease to be Ego; it would become a -<i>thing</i>, and its conception would be annihilated. -It is true that afterwards—not -afterwards as a posteriority in time, but -afterwards in the series of the dependence -of thinking—we also ascribe such a being -to the Ego, which, nevertheless, remains -and must remain Ego in the original meaning -of the word; this being consisting -partly of extension and persistency in -space, <i>and in this respect it becomes a body</i>, -and partly identity and permanency in -time, and in this respect it becomes a soul. -But it is the business of philosophy to -prove, and genetically to explain how the -Ego comes to think itself thus, and all -this belongs not to that which is presupposed, -but to that which is to be deduced. -The result, therefore, remains thus: the -Ego is originally only an act<i>ing</i>; if you -but think it as an act<i>ive</i>, you have already -an Empirical, and hence a conception of it, -which must first be deduced.<a id='r9' /><a href='#f9' class='c015'><sup>[9]</sup></a></p> - -<p class='c006'>But our opponents claim that they do not -make their assertion without all proof; -they want to prove it by logic, and, if God -is willing, by the logical proposition of -contradiction.</p> - -<p class='c006'>If there is anything which clearly shows -the lamentable condition of philosophy as -a science in these our days, it is that such -occurrences can take place. If anybody -were to speak about mathematics, natural -sciences, or any other science, in a manner -which would indicate beyond a doubt his -complete ignorance concerning the first -principles of such a science, he would be -at once sent back to the school from which -he ran away too soon. But in philosophy -it is not to be thus. If in philosophy a -man shows in the same manner his complete -ignorance, we are, with many bows -and compliments to the sharp-sighted man, -to give him publicly that private schooling -which he so sadly needs, and without betraying -the least smile or gesture of disgust. -Have, then, the philosophers in two -thousand years made clear not a single -proposition which might now be considered -as established for that science without further -proof? If there is such a proposition, -it is certainly that of the distinction of -logic, as a purely formal science, from real -philosophy or metaphysics. But what is -really the true meaning of this terrible -logical proposition of contradiction which -is to crush at one stroke our whole system? -As far as I know, simply this: <i>if</i> a -conception is already determined by a certain -characteristic, then it must not be determined -by another opposite characteristic. -But by what characteristic the conception -is originally to be characterized, -this logical theorem does not say, nor can -say, for it presupposes the original determination, -and is applicable only in so far -as that is presupposed. Concerning the -original determination another science will -have to decide.</p> - -<p class='c006'>These wise men tell us that it is <i>contradictory</i> -<span class='pageno' id='Page_150'>150</span>not to determine a conception by -the predicate of actual being. Yet how -can this be contradictory, unless the conception -has first been thus determined by -the predicate of actual being, and has -then had that predicate denied to it? But -who authorized them to determine the conception -by that predicate? Do not these -adepts in logic perceive that they postulate -their principle, and turn around in an evident -circle? Whether there really be a -conception, which is originally—by the -laws of the synthetizing, not of the merely -analyzing reason—<i>not determined by that -predicate of actual being</i>, this they will -have to go and learn from contemplation; -logic only warns them against afterwards -again applying the same predicate to that -conception; of course also, in the same -respect, in which they have denied the determinability -of the conception by that -predicate.</p> - -<p class='c006'>But certainly if they have not yet elevated -themselves to <i>the consciousness</i> of -that contemplation, which is not determined -by the predicate of being, (for that -they should unconsciously possess that -contemplation itself, Reason herself has -taken care of,) then <i>all their</i> conceptions, -which can be derived only from sensuous -contemplation, are very properly determined -by the predicate of this actual being. -In that case, however, they must not believe -that logic has taught them this asserted -connection of thinking and being, for -their knowledge of it is altogether derived -from their unfortunate empirical self. -They, standing on the standpoint of knowing -no other conceptions than those derived -from sensuous contemplation, would, of -course, contradict <i>themselves</i> if they were -to think one of <i>their</i> conceptions without -the predicate of actual being. We, on our -part, are also well content to let them retain -this rule for themselves, since it is -most assuredly universally valid for the -whole sphere of <i>their</i> possible thinking; -and to let them always carefully keep an -eye on this rule, so that they may not violate -it. As for ourselves, however, we cannot -use this their rule any longer, for we -possess a few conceptions more, resting in -a sphere over which their rule does not extend, -and about which they can speak -nothing, since it does not exist for them. -Let them, therefore, attend to their own -business hereafter, and leave us to attend -to ours. Even in so far as we grant them -the rule, namely, that every thinking -must have an object of thinking; it is by -no means a logical rule, but rather one -which logic presupposes, and through which -logic first becomes possible. <i>To think</i>, is the -same as to determine objects; both conceptions -are identical; logic furnishes the -<i>rules</i> of this determining, and hence presupposes -clearly enough the determining -generally as a part of consciousness. That -all thinking has an object can be shown -only in contemplation. Think! and observe -in this thinking how you do it, and -you will doubtless find that you oppose -to your thinking an object of this thinking.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Another objection, somewhat related to -the above, is this: If you do not proceed -from a being, how can you, without being -illogical, deduce a being? You will never -be able to get anything else out of what -you take in hand than what is already contained -in it, unless you proceed dishonestly -and use juggler tricks.</p> - -<p class='c006'>I reply: Nor do we deduce being in the -sense in which you use the word, i. e. as -<i>being</i>, <i>per se</i>. What the philosopher takes -up is an <i>acting</i>, which acts according to -certain laws, and what he establishes is -the series of necessary acts of this acting. -Amongst these acts there occurs one which -to the acting itself appears as a being, and -which by laws to be shown up, <i>must</i> so appear -to it. The philosopher who observes -the acting from a higher standpoint, never -ceases to regard it as an acting. A being -exists only for the observed Ego, which -thinks realistically; but for the philosopher -there is acting, and only acting, for -he thinks idealistically.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Let me express it on this occasion in all -clearness: The essence of transcendental -idealism generally, and of the Science of -Knowledge particularly, consists in this, -that the conception of being is not at all -viewed as a <i>first</i> and <i>original</i> conception, -but simply as a <i>derived</i> conception; derived -from the opposition of activity. -Hence it is considered only as a <i>negative</i> -<span class='pageno' id='Page_151'>151</span>conception. The only positive for the -idealist is <i>Freedom</i>; being is the mere -negative of freedom. Only thus has idealism -a firm basis, and is in harmony with -itself. But dogmatism, which believed -itself safely reposing upon being, as a basis -no further to be investigated or grounded, -regards this assertion as a stupidity -and horror, for it is its annihilation. -That wherein the dogmatist, amongst all -the inflictions which he has experienced -from time to time, still found a hiding -place—namely, some original being, though -it were but a raw and formless <i>matter</i>—is -now utterly destroyed, and he stands naked -and defenceless. He has no weapons -against this attack except the assurance of -his hearty disgust, and his confession, that -he does not understand, and positively cannot -and will not think, what is required of -him. We cheerfully give credence to this -statement, and only beg that he will also -place faith in our assurance, that we find -it not at all difficult to think our system. -Nay, if this should be too much for him, we -can even abstain from it, and leave him to -believe whatever he chooses on this point. -That we do not and cannot force him to -adopt our system, because its adoption depends -upon freedom, has already been -often enough admitted.</p> - -<p class='c006'>I say that the dogmatist has nothing left -but the assurance of his incapacity, for -the idea of intrenching himself behind -general logic, and conjuring the shade of -the Stagirite, because he knows not how -to defend his own body, is altogether new, -and will find few imitators even in this -universal state of despair; since the least -school knowledge of what logic really is, -will suffice to make every one reject this -protection.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Let no one be deceived by these opponents, -if they adopt the language of idealism, -and admitting with their lips the correctness -of its views, protest that they -know well enough that being is only to -signify <i>being for us</i>. They are dogmatists. -For every one who asserts that all thinking -and consciousness must proceed from a -being, makes being something primary; -and it is this which constitutes dogmatism. -By such a confusion of speech they but -demonstrate the utter confusion of their -conceptions; for what may a <i>being for us</i> -mean, which is, nevertheless, to be an -original <i>not</i>-derived being? Who, then, -are those “<i>we</i>,” for whom alone this being -is? Are they <i>intelligences</i> as such? Then -the statement “there is something for the -intelligence,” signifies, this something is -represented by the intelligence; and the -statement “it is <i>only</i> for the intelligence,” -signifies, it is <i>only</i> represented. Hence the -conception of a being, which, from a certain -point of view, is to be independent of -the representation, must, after all, be derived -from the representation, since it is to -be, only through it; and these men would, -therefore, be more in harmony with the -Science of Knowledge than they believed. -Or are those “<i>we</i>” themselves things, -original things, things in themselves? -How, then, can anything be <i>for</i> them; how -can they even be for themselves, since the -conception of a thing involves merely that -it is, but not that the thing is <i>for itself</i>? -What may the word <i>for</i> signify to them? -Is it, perhaps, but an innocent adornment -which they have adopted for the sake of -fashion?</p> -<h4 class='c012'>VIII.</h4> -<p class='c005'>The Science of Knowledge has said, “It -is not possible to abstract from the Ego.” -This assertion may be regarded from two -points of view—either from the standpoint -of common consciousness, and then it -means, “We never have another representation -than that of ourselves; throughout -our whole life, and in all moments of our -life, we think only I, I, I, and nothing but -I.” Or it may be viewed from the standpoint -of the philosopher, and then it will -have the following significance: “The Ego -must necessarily be added in thought to -whatever occurs in consciousness;” or as -Kant expresses it, “All my representations -must be thought as accompanied by—I -think.” What nonsense were it to maintain -the first interpretation to be the true -one, and what wretchedness to refute it in -that interpretation. But in the latter interpretation -the assertion of the Science of -Knowledge will doubtless be acceptable to -every one who is but able to understand it; -and if it had only been thus understood -<span class='pageno' id='Page_152'>152</span>before, we should long ago have been rid -of the thing <i>per se</i>, for it would have been -seen that we are always the Thinking, -whatever we may think, and that hence -nothing can occur in us which is independent -of us, because it all is necessarily related -to our thinking.</p> -<h4 class='c012'>IX.</h4> -<p class='c005'>“But,” confess other opponents of the -Science of Knowledge, “as far as our own -persons are concerned, we cannot, under -the conception of the Ego, think anything -else than our own dear persons as opposed -to other persons. Ego (I) signifies my particular -person, named, for instance, Caius -or Sempronius, as distinguished from other -persons not so named. Now, if I should -abstract, as the Science of Knowledge requires -me to do, from this individual personality, -there would be nothing left to me -which might be characterized as <i>I</i>; I might -just as well call the remainder <i>It</i>.”</p> - -<p class='c006'>Now, what is the real meaning of this -objection, so boldly put forth? Does it -speak of the original real synthesis of the -conception of the individual (their own -dear persons and other persons), and do -they therefore mean to say, “there is nothing -synthetized in this conception but the -conception of an object generally—of the -<i>It</i>, and of other objects (<i>Its</i>)—from which -the first one is distinguished?” Or does -that objection fly for protection to the -common use of language, and do they -therefore mean to say, “In language, the -word I (Ego) signifies only individuality?” -As far as the first is concerned, every one, -who is as yet possessed of his senses, -must see that by distinguishing one object -from its equals, i. e. from other objects, -we arrive only at a <i>determined object</i>, but -not at a determined <i>person</i>. The synthesis -of the conception of the personality is -quite different. The <i>Egoness</i> (the in itself -returning activity, the subject-objectivity, -or whatever you choose to call it,) is originally -opposed to the <i>It</i>, to the mere objectivity; -and the positing of these conceptions -is absolute, is conditioned by no -other positing, is thetical, not synthetical. -This conception of the Egoness, which has -arisen in our Self, is now transferred to -something, which in the first positing was -posited as an <i>It</i>, as mere object, and is -synthetically united with it; and it is only -through this conditional synthesis that -there first arises for us a <i>Thou</i>. The conception -of Thou arises from the union of the -It and the I. The conception of the Ego in -this opposition; hence, as conception of the -individual, is the synthesis of the I with -itself. That which posits itself in the described -act, not generally, but <i>as Ego</i>, is -I; and that which in the same act is -posited as Ego, not <i>through itself</i>, but -<i>through me</i>, is Thou. Now it is doubtless -possible to abstract from this product of a -synthesis, for what we ourselves have synthetized -we doubtless can analyze again, -and when we so abstract, the remainder -will be the general Ego, i. e. the not-object. -Taken in this interpretation, the objection -would be simply absurd.</p> - -<p class='c006'>But how if our opponents cling to the use -of language? Even if it is true that the -word “I” has hitherto signified in language -only the individual, would this make -it necessary that a distinction in the original -synthesis is not to be remarked and -named, simply because it has never before -been noticed? But is it true? Of what -use of language do they speak? Of the -philosophical language? I have shown -already that Kant uses the conception of -the pure Ego in the same meaning I attach -to it. If he says, “I am the thinking -in this thinking,” does he then only oppose -himself to other persons, and not -rather to all object of thinking generally? -Kant says again, “The fundamental principle -of the necessary unity of apperception -is itself identical, and hence an analytical -proposition.” This signifies precisely what -I have just stated, i. e. that the Ego arises -through no synthesis, the manifold whereof -might be further analyzed, but through an -absolute thesis. But this Ego is the <i>Egoness</i> -generally; for the conception of individuality -arises clearly enough through -synthesis, as I have just shown; and the -fundamental principle of individuality is -therefore a synthetical proposition. Reinhold, -it is true, speaks of the Ego simply -as of the representing; but this does not -affect the present case; for when I distinguish -<span class='pageno' id='Page_153'>153</span>myself as the representing from -the represented, do I then distinguish myself -from other persons, and not rather -from all object of representation as such? -But take even the case of these same much -lauded philosophers, who do not, like Kant -and like the Science of Knowledge, presuppose -the Ego in advance of the manifold -of representation, but rather heap it -together, out of that manifold; do they, -then, hold their one thinking in the manifold -thinking to be only the thinking of -the individual, and not rather of the intelligence -generally? In one word: is there -any philosopher of repute, who before -them has ventured to discover that the Ego -signifies only the individual, and that if -the individuality is abstracted from, only -an object in general remains?</p> - -<p class='c006'>Or do they mean ordinary use of language? -To prove this use, I am compelled -to cite instances from common life. -If you call to anybody in the darkness -“Who is there?” and he, presupposing -that his voice is well-known to you, replies, -“It is I,” then it is clear that he -speaks of himself as this particular person, -and wishes to be understood: “It is I, who -am named thus or thus, and it is not any -one of all the others, named otherwise;” -and he so desires to be understood, because -your question, “<i>Who</i> is there?” -presupposes already that it is a rational -being who is there, and expresses only that -you wish to know which particular one -amongst all the rational beings it may be.</p> - -<p class='c006'>But if you should, for instance—permit -me this example, which I find particularly -applicable—sew or cut at the clothing -of some person, and should unawares -cut the person himself, then he would -probably cry out: “Look here, this is <i>I</i>; -you are cutting <i>me</i>!” Now, what does he -mean to express thereby? Not that he is -this particular person, named thus or thus, -and none other; for that you know very -well; but that that which was cut was -not his dead and senseless clothing, but -his living and sensitive self, which you -did not know before. By this “It is <i>I</i>,” -the person does not distinguish himself -from other <i>persons</i>, but from <i>things</i>. This -distinction occurs continually in life; and -we cannot take a step or move our hand -without making it.</p> - -<p class='c006'>In short, Egoness and Individuality are -very different conceptions, and the synthesis -of the latter is clearly to be observed. -Through the former conception, -we distinguish ourselves from all that is -external to us—not merely from all <i>persons</i> -that are external to us—and hence -we embrace by it not our particular personality, -but our general spirituality. It -is in this sense that the word is used, both -in philosophical and in common language. -The above objection testifies, therefore, -not only to an unusual want of thought, -but also to great ignorance in philosophical -literature.</p> - -<p class='c006'>But our opponents insist on their incapability -to think the required conception, -and we must place faith in their assertions. -Not that they lack the general -conception of the pure Ego, for if they -did, they would be obliged to desist from -raising objections, just as a piece of log -must desist. But it is the <i>conception of -this conception</i> which they lack, and which -they cannot attain. They have that conception -in themselves, but do not know -<i>that</i> they have it. The ground of this -their incapability does not lie in any particular -weakness of their thinking faculties, -but in a weakness of their whole -character. Their Ego, in the sense in -which they take the word—i. e. their individual -person—is the last object of their -acting, and hence also the limit of their -explicit thinking. It is to them, therefore, -the only true substance, and reason is only -an accident thereof. Their person does -not exist as a particular expression of reason; -but reason exists to help their person -through the world; and if the person -could get along just as well without reason, -we might discharge reason from service, -and there would be no reason at all. -This, indeed, lurks in the whole system -of their conceptions, and through all -their assertions, and many of them are -honest enough not to conceal it. Now, -they are quite correct as far as they assert -this incapacity in respect to their own -persons—they only must not state as objective -that which has merely subjective -<span class='pageno' id='Page_154'>154</span>validity. In the Science of Knowledge -the relation is exactly reversed: Reason -alone is in itself, and individuality is but -accidental; reason is the object, and personality -the means to realize it; personality -is only a particular manner of manifesting -reason, and must always more and -more lose itself in the universal form of -reason. Only reason is eternal; individuality -must always die out. And whosoever -is not prepared to succumb to this -order of things, will also never get at the -true understanding of the Science of -Knowledge.</p> -<h4 class='c012'>X.</h4> -<p class='c005'>This fact that they can never understand -the Science of Knowledge unless -they first comply with certain conditions, -has been told them often enough. They -do not want to hear it again, and our -frank warning affords them a new opportunity -to attack us. Every conviction, -they assert, must be capable of being communicated -by conceptions—nay, it must -even be possible to compel its acknowledgment. -They say it is a bad example -to assert that our Science exists for only -certain privileged spirits, and that others -cannot see or understand anything of it.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Let us see, first of all, what the Science -of Knowledge does assert on this point. -It does not assert that there is an original -and inborn distinction between men and -men, whereby some are made capable of -thinking and learning what the others, by -their nature, cannot think or learn. Reason -is common to all, and is the same in -all rational beings. Whatsoever one rational -being possesses as a talent, all -others possess also. Nay, we have even in -this present article expressly admitted -that the conceptions upon which the -Science of Knowledge insists, are actually -effective in all rational beings; for their -efficacy furnishes the ground of a possibility -of consciousness. The pure Ego, -which they charge is incapable of thinking, -lies at the bottom of all their thinking, -and occurs in all their thinking, since -all thinking is possible only through it. -Thus far everything proceeds mechanically. -But to get an insight into this -asserted necessity—to think again this -thinking—does not lie in mechanism, but, -on the contrary, requires an elevation, -through <i>freedom</i>, to a new sphere, which -our immediate existence does not place in -our possession. Unless this faculty of -freedom has already existence, and has -already been practised, the Science of -Knowledge can accomplish nothing in a -person. It is this power of freedom which -furnishes the premises upon which the -structure is to rest.</p> - -<p class='c006'>They certainly will not deny that every -science and every art presupposes certain -primary rudiments, which must first be -acquired before we can enter into the -science or art. “But,” say they, “if you -only require a knowledge of the rudiments, -why do you not teach them to us, if we -lack them? Why do you not place them -before us definitely and systematically? -Is it not your own fault if you plunge us at -once <i>in medias res</i>, and require the public -to understand you before you have -communicated the rudiments?” I reply: -that is exactly the difficulty! These rudiments -cannot be systematically forced -upon you—they cannot be taught to you -by compulsion! In one word, they are a -knowledge which we can get only from -ourselves. Everything depends upon this, -that by the constant use of freedom, with -<i>clear consciousness</i> of this freedom, we -should become thoroughly conscious and -enamored of this our freedom. Whenever -it shall have become the well-matured object -of education—from tenderest youth -upwards—to <i>develop</i> the inner power of -the scholar, but not to <i>give it a direction</i>; -to educate man for his own use, and as -instrument of his own will, but not as the -soulless instrument of others;—then the -Science of Knowledge will be universally -and easily comprehensible. Culture of the -whole man, from earliest youth—this is -the only way to spread philosophy. Education -must first content itself to be more -negative than positive—more a mutual interchange -<i>with</i> the scholar than a working -<i>upon</i> him; more negative as far as possible—i. e. -education must at least propose -to itself this negativeness as its object, -and must be positive only as a means of -<span class='pageno' id='Page_155'>155</span>being negative. So long as education, -whether with or without clear consciousness, -proposes to itself the opposite object—labors -only for usefulness through others, -without considering that the using principle -lies also in the individual; so long as -education thus eradicates in earliest youth -the root of self-activity, and accustoms -man not to determine himself but to -await a determination through others—so -long, talent for philosophy will always remain -an extraordinary favor of nature, -which cannot be further explained, and -which may therefore be called by the -indefinite expression of “philosophical -genius.”</p> - -<p class='c006'>The chief ground of all the errors of -our opponents may perhaps be this, that -they have never yet made clear to themselves -what <i>proving</i> means, and that hence -they have never considered that there is -at the bottom of all demonstration something -absolutely undemonstrable.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Demonstration effects only a conditioned, -mediated certainty; by virtue of -it, something is certain if another thing is -certain. If any doubt arises as to the -certainty of this other, then this certainty -must again be appended to the certainty of -a third, and so on. Now, is this retrogression -carried on <i>ad infinitum</i>, or is there -anywhere a final link? I know very well -that some are of the former opinion; but -these men have never considered that if it -were so, they would not even be capable -of entertaining the idea of certainty—no, -not even of hunting after certainty. -For what this may mean: to be certain; -they only know by being themselves certain -of something; but if everything is -certain only on condition, then nothing is -certain, and there is even no conditioned -certainty. But if there is a final link, regarding -which no question can be raised, -why it is certain, then, there is an undemonstrable -at the base of all demonstration.</p> - -<p class='c006'>They do not appear to have considered -what it means: to have proven something -to <i>somebody</i>. It means: we have demonstrated -to him that a certain other certainty -is contained, by virtue of the laws -of thinking, which he admits, in a certain -first certainty which he assumes or admits, -and that he must necessarily assume the -first if he assumes the second, as he says -he does. Hence all communication of a -conviction by proof, presupposes that both -parts are at least agreed on something. -Now, how could the Science of Knowledge -communicate itself to the dogmatist, since -they are positively <i>not agreed in a single -point</i>, so far as the <i>material</i> of knowledge -is concerned, and since thus the common -point is wanting from which they might -jointly start.<a id='r10' /><a href='#f10' class='c015'><sup>[10]</sup></a></p> - -<p class='c006'>Finally, they seem not to have considered -that even where there is such a common -point, no one can think into the soul -of the other; that each must calculate -upon the self-activity of the other, and -cannot furnish him the necessary -thoughts, but can merely advise how to -construct or think those thoughts. The -relation between free beings is a reciprocal -influence upon each other through -freedom, but not a causality through -mechanically effective power. And thus the -present dispute returns to the chief point -of dispute, from which all our differences -arise. They presuppose everywhere the -relation of causality, because they indeed -know no higher relation; and it is upon -this that they base their demand: we -ought to graft our conviction on their -souls without any activity on their own -part. But we proceed from freedom, and—which -is but fair—presuppose freedom -in them. Moreover, in thus presupposing -the universal validity of the mechanism -of cause and effect, they immediately contradict -themselves; what they say and -<span class='pageno' id='Page_156'>156</span>what they do, are in palpable contradiction. -For, in <i>presupposing</i> the mechanism of -cause and effect, they elevate themselves -beyond it; their thinking of the mechanism -is not contained in the mechanism itself. -The mechanism cannot seize itself, -for the simple reason that it is mechanism. -Only free consciousness can seize -itself. Here, therefore, would be a way -to convince them of their error. But the -difficulty is that this thought lies utterly -beyond the range of their vision, and that -they lack the agility of mind to think, -when they think an object, not only the -object, but also their thinking of the object; -wherefore this present remark is -utterly incomprehensible to them, and is -indeed written only for those who are -awake and see.</p> - -<p class='c006'>We reiterate, therefore, our assurance: -we <i>will</i> not convince them, because one -cannot <i>will</i> an impossibility; and we will -not refute their system for them, because -we cannot. True, we can refute it easily -enough <i>for us</i>; it is very easy to throw it -down—the mere breath of a free man destroys -it. But we cannot refute it for -<i>them</i>. We do not write, speak or teach -<i>for them</i>, since there is positively no point -from which we could reach them. If we -speak <i>of</i> them, it is not for their own -sake, but for the sake of others—to warn -these against their errors, and persuade -these not to listen to their empty and insignificant -prattle. Now, they must not -consider this, our declaration, as degrading -for them. By so doing, they but -evince their bad conscience, and publicly -degrade themselves amongst us. Besides, -they are in the same position in regard to -us. They also cannot refute or convince -us, or say anything, which could have an -effect upon us. This we confess ourselves, -and would not be in the least indignant if -they said it. What we tell them, we tell -them not at all with the evil purpose of -causing them anger, but merely to save us -and them unnecessary trouble. We should -be truly glad if they were thus to accept -it.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Moreover, there is nothing degrading in -the matter itself. Every one who to-day -charges his brother with this incapacity, -has once been necessarily in the same condition. -For we all are born in it, and it -requires time to get beyond it. If our -opponents would only not be driven into -indignation by our declaration, but would -reflect about it, and inquire whether there -might not be some truth in it, they might -then probably get out of that incapacity. -They would at once be our equals, and -we could henceforth live in perfect peace -together. The fault is not ours, if we -occasionally are pretty hard at war with -them.</p> - -<p class='c006'>From all this it also appears, which I -consider expedient to remark here, that a -philosophy, in order to be a science, need -not be <i>universally valid</i>, as some philosophers -seem to assume. These philosophers -demand the impossible. What does it -mean: a philosophy is really universally -valid? Who, then, are all these for -whom it is to be valid? I suppose not to -every one who has a human face, for then -it would also have to be valid for children -and for the common man, for whom -thinking is never object, but always the -means for his real purpose. Universally -valid, then, for the philosophers? But -who, then, are the philosophers? I hope -not all those who have received the degree -of doctor from some philosophical faculty, -or who have printed something which they -call philosophical, or who, perhaps, are -themselves members of some philosophical -faculty? Indeed, how shall we even -have a fixed conception of the philosopher, -unless we have first a fixed conception of -philosophy—i. e. unless we first possess -that fixed philosophy? It is quite certain -that all those who believe themselves possessed -of philosophy, as a science, will -deny to all those who do not recognize -their philosophy the name of philosopher, -and hence will make the acknowledgment -of their philosophy the criterion of a -philosopher. This they must do, if they -will proceed logically, for there is only -one philosophy. The author of the -Science of Knowledge, for instance, has -long ago stated that he is of this opinion -in regard to his system—not in so far as -it is an <i>individual representation</i> of that -system, but in so far as it is a system of -<span class='pageno' id='Page_157'>157</span><i>transcendental idealism</i>—and he hesitates -not a moment to repeat this assertion. -But does not this lead us into an evident -circle? Every one will then say, “My philosophy -is universally valid for all philosophers;” -and will say so with full right if -he only be himself convinced, though no -other mortal being should accept his doctrine; -“for,” he will add, “he who does -not recognize it as valid is no philosopher.”</p> - -<p class='c006'>Concerning this point, I hold the following: -If there be but one man who is fully -and at all times equally convinced of his -philosophy, who is in complete harmony -with himself in this his philosophy, whose -free judgment in philosophizing agrees -perfectly with the judgment daily life -forces upon him, then in this one man -philosophy has fulfilled its purpose and -completed its circle; for it has put him -down again at the very same point from -which he started with all mankind; and -henceforth philosophy as a science really -exists, though no other man else should -comprehend and accept it; nay, though -that one man might not even know how to -teach it to others.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Let no one here offer the trivial objection -that all systematic authors have ever -been convinced of the truth of their systems. -For this assertion is utterly false, -and is grounded only in this, that few -know what conviction really is. This can -only be experienced by having the fullness -of conviction in one’s self. Those authors -were only convinced of one or the -other point in their system, which perhaps -was not even clearly conscious to themselves, -but not of the whole of their system—they -were convinced only in certain -moods. This is no conviction. Conviction -is that which depends on no time and -no change of condition; which is not accidental -to the soul, but which is the soul -itself. One can be convinced only of the -unchangeably and eternally True: to be -convinced of error is impossible. But of -such true convictions very few examples -may probably exist in the history of philosophy; -perhaps but one; perhaps not -even this one. I do not speak of the ancients. -It is even doubtful whether they -ever proposed to themselves the great -problem of philosophy. But let me speak -of modern authors. Spinoza could not be -convinced; he could only <i>think</i>, not <i>put -faith</i> in his philosophy; for it was in direct -contradiction with his necessary conviction -in daily life, by virtue of which he -was forced to consider himself free and -self-determined. He could be convinced -of it only in so far as it contained truth, -or as it contained a part of philosophy as -a science. He was clearly convinced that -mere objective reasoning would necessarily -lead to his system; for in that he was -correct; but it never occurred to him that -in thinking he ought to reflect upon his -own thinking, and in that he was wrong, -and thus made his speculation contradictory -to his life. Kant might have been -convinced; but, if I understand him correctly, -he was not convinced when he -wrote his <i>Critique</i>. He speaks of <i>a deception, -which always recurs, although we -know that it is a deception</i>. Whence did -Kant learn, as he was the first who discovered -this pretended deception, that it -always recurs, and in whom could he have -made the experience that it did so recur? -Only in himself. But to know that one -deceives one’s self, and still to deceive -one’s self is not the condition of conviction -and harmony within—it is the symptom -of a dangerous inner disharmony. -My experience is that no deception recurs, -for reason contains no deception. Moreover, -of what deception does Kant speak? -Clearly of the belief that things <i>per se</i> -exist externally and independent of us. -But who entertains this belief? Not common -consciousness, surely, for common -consciousness only speaks <i>of itself</i>, and -can therefore say nothing but that things -exist for it (i. e. for us, on this standpoint -of common consciousness); and that certainly -is no deception, for it is our own -truth. Common consciousness knows -nothing of a thing <i>per se</i>, for the very reason -that it is common consciousness, -which surely never goes beyond itself. It -is a false philosophy which first makes -common consciousness assert such a conception, -whilst only that false philosophy -discovered it in <i>its</i> own sphere. Hence -<span class='pageno' id='Page_158'>158</span>this so-called deception—which is easily -got rid of, and which true philosophy roots -out utterly—that false philosophy has itself -produced, and as soon as you get -your philosophy perfected, the scales will -fall from your eyes, and the deception -will never recur. You will, in all your -life thereafter, never believe to know more -than that you are finite, and finite in <i>this -determined</i> manner, which you must explain -to yourself, by the existence of <i>such -a determined world</i>; and you will no more -think of breaking through this limit than -of ceasing to be yourself. Leibnitz, also, -may have been convinced, for, properly -understood—and why should he not have -properly understood himself?—he is right. -Nay, more—if highest ease and freedom -of mind may suggest conviction; if the -ingenuity to fit one’s philosophy into all -forms, and apply it to all parts of human -knowledge—the power to scatter all doubts -as soon as they appear, and the manner of -using one’s philosophy more as an instrument -than as an object, may testify of -perfect clearness; and if self-reliance, -cheerfulness and high courage in life may -be signs of inner harmony, then Leibnitz -was perhaps convinced, and the only example -of conviction in the history of philosophy.</p> -<h4 class='c012'>XI.</h4> -<p class='c005'>In conclusion, I wish to refer in a few -words to a very curious misapprehension. -It is that of mistaking the Ego, as intellectual -contemplation, from which the Science -of Knowledge proceeds, for the Ego, -as idea, with which it concludes. In the -Ego, as intellectual contemplation, we -have only the form of the Egoness, the -in itself returning activity, sufficiently described -above. The Ego in this form is -only <i>for the philosopher</i>, and by seizing it -thus, you enter philosophy. The Ego, as -idea, on the contrary, is <i>for the Ego</i> itself, -which the philosopher considers. He does -not establish the latter Ego as his own, -but as the idea of the natural but perfectly -cultured man; just as a real being does -not exist for the philosopher, but merely -for the Ego he observes.</p> - -<p class='c006'>The Ego as idea is the rational being—firstly, -in so far as it completely represents -in itself the universal reason, or as it is -altogether rational and only rational, and -hence it must also have ceased to be individual, -which it was only through sensuous -limitation; and secondly, in so far as -this rational being has also realized reason -in the eternal world, which, therefore, remains -constantly posited in this idea. The -world remains in this idea as world generally, -as <i>substratum</i> with these determined -mechanical and organic laws; but all these -laws are perfectly suited to represent the -final object of reason. The idea of the Ego -and the Ego of the intellectual contemplation -have only this in common, that in neither -of them the thought of the individual -enters; not in the latter, because the Egoness -has not yet been determined as individuality; -and not in the former, because -the determination of individuality -has vanished through universal culture. -But both are opposites in this, that the -Ego of the contemplation contains only -the <i>form</i> of the Ego, and pays no regard -to an actual material of the same, which -is only thinkable by its thinking of a -world; while in the Ego of the Idea the -complete material of the Egoness is -thought. From the first conception all -philosophy proceeds, and it is its fundamental -conception; to the latter it does -not return, but only determines this idea -in the practical part as highest and ultimate -object of reason. The first is, as we -have said, original contemplation, and becomes -a conception in the sufficiently described -manner; the latter is only idea, it -cannot be thought determinately and will -never be actual, but will always more and -more approximate to the actuality.</p> -<h4 class='c012'>XII.</h4> -<p class='c005'>These are, I believe, all the misunderstandings -which are to be taken into consideration, -and to correct which a clear -explanation may hope somewhat to aid. -Other modes of working against the new -system cannot and need not be met by me.</p> - -<p class='c006'>If a system, for instance, the beginning -and end, nay, the whole essence of which, -is that individuality be theoretically forgotten -and practically denied, is denounced as -egotism, and by men who, for the very -<span class='pageno' id='Page_159'>159</span>reason because they are covertly theoretical -egotists and overtly practical egotists, -cannot elevate themselves into an insight -into this system; if a conclusion is drawn -from the system that its author has an -evil heart, and if again from this evil-heartedness -of the author the conclusion is -drawn that the system is false; then arguments -are of no avail; for those who make -these assertions know very well that they -are not true, and they have quite different -reasons for uttering them than because -they believed them. The system bothers -them little enough; but the author may, -perhaps, have stated on other occasions -things which do not please them, and may, -perhaps—God knows, how or where!—be -in their way. Now such persons are perfectly -in conformity with their mode of -thinking, and it would be an idle undertaking -to attempt to rid them of their nature. -But if thousands and thousands -who know not a word of the Science of -Knowledge, nor have occasion to know a -word of it, who are neither Jews nor Pagans, -neither aristocrats nor democrats, -neither Kantians of the old or of the -modern school, or of any school, and who -even are not originals—who might have a -grudge against the author of the Science -of Knowledge, because he took away from -them the original ideas which they have -just prepared for the public—if such men -hastily take hold of these charges, and -repeat and repeat them again without any -apparent interest, other than that they -might appear well instructed regarding the -secrets of the latest literature; then it -may, indeed, be hoped that for their own -sakes they will take our prayer into consideration, -and reflect upon what they wish -to say before they say it.</p> - -<h3 class='c001'>INTRODUCTION TO IDEALISM. <br /> [From the German of <span class='sc'>Schelling</span>. Translated by <span class='sc'>Tom Davidson</span>.]</h3> -<h4 class='c012'>I.—IDEA OF TRANSCENDENTAL PHILOSOPHY.</h4> -<p class='c005'>1. All knowing is based upon the agreement -of an objective with a subjective. -For we <i>know</i> only the true, and truth is -universally held to be the agreement of -representations with their objects.</p> - -<p class='c006'>2. The sum of all that is purely objective -in our knowledge we may call Nature; -while the sum of all that is subjective may -be designated the <i>Ego</i>, or Intelligence. -These two concepts are mutually opposed. -Intelligence is originally conceived as that -which solely represents—Nature as that -which is merely capable of representation; -the former as the conscious—the latter as -the unconscious. There is, moreover, -necessary in all knowledge a mutual agreement -of the two—the conscious and the -unconscious <i>per se</i>. The problem is to -explain this agreement.</p> - -<p class='c006'>3. In knowledge itself, in my knowing, -objective and subjective are so united that -it is impossible to say to which of the two -the priority belongs. There is here no -first and no second—the two are contemporaneous -and one. In my efforts to explain -this identity, I must first have it undone. -In order to explain it, inasmuch as -nothing else is given me as a principle of -explanation beyond these two factors of -knowledge, I must of necessity place the -one before the other—set out from the one -in order from it to arrive at the other. -From which of the two I am to set out is -not determined by the problem.</p> - -<p class='c006'>4. There are, therefore, only two cases -possible:</p> - -<p class='c006'>A. <i>Either the objective is made the first, -and the question comes to be how a subjective -agreeing with it is superinduced.</i></p> - -<p class='c006'>The idea of the subjective is not contained -in the idea of the objective; they -rather mutually exclude each other. The -subjective, therefore, must be <i>superinduced</i> -upon the objective. It forms no part of -the conception of Nature that there should -be something intelligent to represent it. -Nature, to all appearance, would exist -even were there nothing to represent it. -The problem may therefore likewise be expressed -<span class='pageno' id='Page_160'>160</span>thus: How is the Intelligent superinduced -upon Nature? or, How comes -Nature to be represented?</p> - -<p class='c006'>The problem assumes Nature, or the objective, -as first. It is, therefore, manifestly, -a problem of natural science, which -does the same. That natural science really, -and without knowing it, approximates, at -least, to the solution of this problem can -be shown here only briefly.</p> - -<p class='c006'>If all knowledge has, as it were, two -poles, which mutually suppose and demand -each other, they must reciprocally -be objects of search in all sciences. -There must, therefore, of necessity, be -two fundamental sciences; and it must -be impossible to set out from the one pole -without being driven to the other. The -necessary tendency of all natural science, -therefore, is to pass from Nature to the -intelligent. This, and this alone, lies at -the bottom of the effort to bring theory -into natural phenomena. The final perfection -of natural science would be the -complete mentalization of all the laws of -Nature into laws of thought. The phenomena, -that is, the material, must vanish -entirely, and leave only the laws—that is, -the formal. Hence it is that the more the -accordance with law is manifested in Nature -itself, the more the wrappage disappears—the -phenomena themselves become -more mental, and at last entirely cease. -Optical phenomena are nothing more than -a geometry whose lines are drawn through -the light; and even this light itself is of -doubtful materiality. In the phenomena -of magnetism all trace of matter has already -disappeared, and of those of gravitation; -which even physical philosophers -believed could be attributed only to direct -spiritual influence, there remains nothing -but the law, whose action on a large scale -is the mechanism of the heavenly motions. -The complete theory of Nature would be -that whereby the whole of Nature should -be resolved into an intelligence. The -dead and unconscious products of Nature -are only unsuccessful attempts of Nature -to reflect itself, and dead Nature, so-called, -is merely an unripe Intelligence; hence in -its phenomena the intelligent character -peers through, though yet unconsciously. -Its highest aim, namely, that of becoming -completely self-objective, Nature reaches -only in its highest and last reflection, -which is nothing else than man, or, more -generally, what we call reason, by means -of which Nature turns completely back -upon itself, and by which is manifested -that Nature is originally identical with -what in us is known as intelligent and conscious.</p> - -<p class='c006'>This may perhaps suffice to prove that -natural science has a necessary tendency -to render Nature intelligent. By this very -tendency it is that it becomes natural philosophy, -which is one of the two necessary -fundamental sciences of philosophy.</p> - -<p class='c006'>B. <i>Or the subjective is made the first, -and the problem is, how an objective is -superinduced agreeing with it.</i></p> - -<p class='c006'>If all knowledge is based upon the -agreement of these two, then the task of -explaining this agreement is plainly the -highest for all knowledge; and if, as is -generally admitted, philosophy is the -highest and loftiest of all sciences, it is -certainly the main task of philosophy.</p> - -<p class='c006'>But the problem demands only the explanation -of that agreement generally, and -leaves it entirely undecided where the explanation -shall begin, what it shall make its -first, and what its second. Moreover, as the -two opposites are mutually necessary to -each other, the result of the operation -must be the same, from whichever point it -sets out.</p> - -<p class='c006'>To make the objective the first, and derive -the subjective from it, is, as has just -been shown, the task of natural philosophy.</p> - -<p class='c006'>If, therefore, there is a transcendental -philosophy, the only course that remains -for it is the opposite one, namely: to set -out from the subjective as the first and the -absolute, and deduce the origin of the objective -from it.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Into these two possible directions of -philosophy, therefore, natural and transcendental -philosophy have separated -themselves; and if all philosophy must -have for its aim to make either an Intelligence -out of Nature or a Nature out of Intelligence, -then transcendental philosophy, -to which the latter task belongs, is the -<span class='pageno' id='Page_161'>161</span>other necessary fundamental science of -philosophy.</p> -<h4 class='c012'>II.—COROLLARIES.</h4> -<p class='c005'>In the foregoing we have not only deduced -the idea of transcendental philosophy, -but have also afforded the reader a -glance into the whole system of philosophy, -composed, as has been shown, of two -principal sciences, which, though opposed -in principle and direction, are counter-parts -and complements of each other. Not -the whole system of philosophy, but only -one of the principal sciences of it, is to -be here discussed, and, in the first place, -to be more clearly characterized in accordance -with the idea already deduced.</p> - -<p class='c006'>1. If, for transcendental philosophy, the -subjective is the starting point, the only -ground of all reality, and the sole principle -of explanation for everything else, it -necessarily begins with universal doubt -regarding the reality of the objective.</p> - -<p class='c006'>As the natural philosopher, wholly intent -upon the objective, seeks, above all -things, to exclude every admixture of the -subjective from his knowledge, so, on the -other hand, the transcendental philosopher -seeks nothing so much as the entire -exclusion of the objective from the purely -subjective principle of knowledge. The -instrument of separation is absolute scepticism—not -that half-scepticism which is -directed merely against the vulgar prejudices -of mankind and never sees the -foundation—but a thorough-going scepticism, -which aims not at individual prejudices, -but at the fundamental prejudice, -with which all others must stand or fall. -For over and above the artificial and conventional -prejudices of man, there are -others of far deeper origin, which have -been placed in him, not by art or education, -but by Nature itself, and which -pass with all other men, except the philosopher, -as the principles of knowledge, and -with the mere self-thinker as the test of -all truth.</p> - -<p class='c006'>The one fundamental prejudice to which -all others are reducible, is this: that there -are things outside of us; an opinion which, -while it rests neither on proofs nor on conclusions -(for there is not a single irrefragable -proof of it), and yet cannot be uprooted -by any opposite proof (<i>naturam -furcâ expellas, tamen usque redibit</i>), lays -claim to immediate certainty; whereas, -inasmuch as it refers to something quite -different from us—yea, opposed to us—and -of which there is no evidence how it -can come into immediate consciousness, it -must be regarded as nothing more than a -prejudice—a natural and original one, to -be sure, but nevertheless a prejudice.</p> - -<p class='c006'>The contradiction lying in the fact that -a conclusion which in its nature cannot -be immediately certain, is, nevertheless, -blindly and without grounds, accepted as -such, cannot be solved by transcendental -philosophy, except on the assumption that -this conclusion is implicitly, and in a -manner hitherto not manifest, not founded -upon, but identical, and one and the -same with an affirmation which is immediately -certain; and to demonstrate this -identity will really be the task of transcendental -philosophy.</p> - -<p class='c006'>2. Now, even for the ordinary use of -reason, there is nothing immediately certain -except the affirmation <i>I am</i>, which, as -it loses all meaning outside of immediate -consciousness, is the most individual of -all truths, and the absolute prejudice, -which must be assumed if anything else -is to be made certain. The affirmation -<i>There are things outside of us</i>, will therefore -be certain for the transcendental philosopher, -only through its identity with the -affirmation <i>I am</i>, and its certainty will be -only equal to the certainty of the affirmation -from which it derives it.</p> - -<p class='c006'>According to this view, transcendental -knowledge would be distinguished from -ordinary knowledge in two particulars.</p> - -<p class='c006'><i>First</i>—That for it the certainty of the -existence of external objects is a mere prejudice, -which it oversteps, in order to find -the grounds of it. (It can never be the -business of the transcendental philosopher -to prove the existence of things in themselves, -but only to show that it is a natural -and necessary prejudice to assume external -objects as real.)</p> - -<p class='c006'><i>Second</i>—That the two affirmations, <i>I am</i> -and <i>There are things outside of me</i>, which -in the ordinary consciousness run together, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_162'>162</span>are, in the former, separated and the one -placed before the other, with a view to -demonstrate as a fact their identity, and -that immediate connection which in the -other is only felt. By the act of this separation, -when it is complete, the philosopher -transports himself to the transcendental -point of view, which is by no means -a natural, but an artificial one.</p> - -<p class='c006'>3. If, for the transcendental philosopher, -the subjective alone has original reality, -he will also make the subjective alone in -knowledge directly his object; the objective -will only become an object indirectly -to him, and, whereas, in ordinary knowledge, -knowledge itself—the act of knowing—vanishes -in the object, in transcendental -knowledge, on the contrary, the -object, as such, will vanish in the act of -knowing. Transcendental knowledge is a -knowledge of knowing, in so far as it is -purely subjective.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Thus, for example, in intuition, it is only -the objective that reaches the ordinary -consciousness; the act of intuition itself -is lost in the object; whereas the transcendental -mode of intuition rather gets -only a glimpse of the object of intuition -through the act. Ordinary thought, therefore, -is a mechanism in which ideas prevail, -without, however, being distinguished -as ideas; whereas transcendental thought -interrupts this mechanism, and in becoming -conscious of the idea as an act, rises -to the idea of the idea. In ordinary action, -the acting itself is forgotten in the -object of the action; philosophizing is -also an action, but not an action only. It -is likewise a continued self-intuition in -this action.</p> - -<p class='c006'>The nature of the transcendental mode -of thought consists, therefore, generally -in this: that, in it, that which in all other -thinking, knowing, or acting escapes the -consciousness, and is absolutely non-objective, -is brought into consciousness, and -becomes objective; in short, it consists in -a continuous act of becoming an object to -itself on the part of the subjective.</p> - -<p class='c006'>The transcendental art will therefore -consist in a readiness to maintain one’s -self continuously in this duplicity of thinking -and acting.</p> -<h4 class='c012'>III.—PRELIMINARY ARRANGEMENT OF TRANSCENDENTAL PHILOSOPHY.</h4> -<p class='c005'>This arrangement is preliminary, inasmuch -as the principles of arrangement can -be arrived at only in the science itself.</p> - -<p class='c006'>We return to the idea of science.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Transcendental philosophy has to explain -how knowledge is possible at all, -supposing that the subjective in it is assumed -as the chief or first element.</p> - -<p class='c006'>It is not, therefore, any single part, or -any particular object of knowledge, but -knowledge itself, and knowledge generally, -that it takes for its object.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Now all knowledge is reducible to certain -original convictions or original fore-judgments; -these different convictions -transcendental philosophy must reduce to -one original conviction; this one, from -which all others are derived, is expressed -in the first principle of this philosophy, -and the task of finding such is no other -than that of finding the absolutely certain, -by which all other certainty is arrived at.</p> - -<p class='c006'>The arrangement of transcendental philosophy -itself is determined by those original -convictions, whose validity it asserts. -Those convictions must, in the first place, -be sought in the common understanding. -If, therefore, we fall back upon the standpoint -of the ordinary view, we find the -following convictions deeply engraven in -the human understanding:</p> - -<p class='c006'>A. That there not only exists outside of -us a world of things independent of us, -but also that our representations agree -with them in such a manner that there is -nothing else in the things beyond what -they present to us. The necessity which -prevails in our objective representations is -explained by saying that the things are -unalterably determined, and that, by this -determination of the things, our ideas -are also indirectly determined. By this -first and most original conviction, the first -problem of the philosophy is determined, -<i>viz.</i>: to explain how representations can -absolutely agree with objects existing altogether -independently of them. Since it is -upon the assumption that things are exactly -as we represent them—that we certainly, -therefore, know things as they are in -themselves—that the possibility of all experience -<span class='pageno' id='Page_163'>163</span>rests, (for what would experience -be, and where would physics, for example, -wander to, but for the supposition of the -absolute identity of being and seeming?) -the solution of this problem is identical -with theoretical philosophy, which has to -examine the possibility of experience.</p> - -<p class='c006'>B. The second equally original conviction -is, that ideas which spring up in us -freely and without necessity are capable -of passing from the world of thought into -the real world, and of arriving at objective -reality.</p> - -<p class='c006'>This conviction stands in opposition to -the first. According to the first, it is assumed -that objects are unalterably determined, -and our ideas by them; according -to the other, that objects are alterable, -and that, too, by the causality of ideas in -us. According to the first, there takes -place a transition from the real world into -the world of ideas, or a determining of -ideas by something objective; according -to the second, a transition from the world -of ideas into the real world, or a determining -of the objective by a (freely produced) -idea in us.</p> - -<p class='c006'>By this second conviction, a second -problem is determined, <i>viz.</i>: how, by -something merely thought, an objective is -alterable, so as completely to correspond -with that something thought.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Since upon this assumption the possibility -of all free action rests, the solution of -this problem is practical philosophy.</p> - -<p class='c006'>C. But with these two problems we find -ourselves involved in a contradiction. According -to B, there is demanded the dominion -of thought (the ideal) over the -world of sense; but how is this conceivable, -if (according to A) the idea, in its -origin, is already only the slave of the objective? -On the other hand, if the real -world is something quite independent of -us, and in accordance with which, as their -pattern, our ideas must shape themselves -(by A), then it is inconceivable how the -real world, on the other hand, can shape -itself after ideas in us (by B). In a word, -in the theoretical certainty we lose the -practical; in the practical we lose the theoretical. -It is impossible that there -should be at once truth in our knowledge -and reality in our volition.</p> - -<p class='c006'>This contradiction must be solved, if -there is to be a philosophy at all; and the -solution of this problem, or the answering -of the question: How can ideas be conceived -as shaping themselves according to -objects, and at the same time objects as -shaping themselves to ideas?—is not the -first, but the highest, task of transcendental -philosophy.</p> - -<p class='c006'>It is not difficult to see that this problem -is not to be solved either in theoretical or in -practical philosophy, but in a higher one, -which is the connecting link between the -two, neither theoretical nor practical, but -both at once.</p> - -<p class='c006'>How at once the objective world conforms -itself to ideas in us, and ideas in us -conform themselves to the objective world, -it is impossible to conceive, unless there -exists, between the two worlds—the ideal -and the real—a preëstablished harmony. -But this preëstablished harmony itself is -not conceivable, unless the activity, -whereby the objective world is produced, -is originally identical with that which displays -itself in volition, and <i>vice versa</i>.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Now it is undoubtedly a <i>productive</i> activity -that displays itself in volition; all -free action is productive and productive -only with consciousness. If, then, we -suppose, since the two activities are one -only in their principle, that the same activity -which is productive <i>with</i> consciousness -in free action, is productive <i>without</i> -consciousness in the production of the -world, this preëstablished harmony is a -reality, and the contradiction is solved.</p> - -<p class='c006'>If we suppose that all this is really the -case, then that original identity of the activity, -which is busy in the production of -the world, with that which displays itself -in volition, will exhibit itself in the productions -of the former, and these will -necessarily appear as the productions of -an activity at once conscious and unconscious.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Nature, as a whole, no less than in its -different productions, will, of necessity, -appear as a work produced with consciousness, -and, at the same time, as a production -<span class='pageno' id='Page_164'>164</span>of the blindest mechanism. It is the -result of purpose, without being demonstrable -as such. The philosophy of the -aims of Nature, or teleology, is therefore -the required point of union between theoretical -and practical philosophy.</p> - -<p class='c006'>D. Hitherto, we have postulated only in -general terms the identity of the unconscious -activity, which has produced Nature, -and the conscious activity, which -exhibits itself in volition, without having -decided where the principle of this activity -lies—whether in Nature or in us.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Now, the system of knowledge can be -regarded as complete only when it reverts -to its principle. Transcendental philosophy, -therefore, could be complete only -when that identity—the highest solution -of its whole problem—could be demonstrated -in its principle, the <i>Ego</i>.</p> - -<p class='c006'>It is therefore postulated that, in the -subjective—in the consciousness itself—that -activity, at once conscious and unconscious, -can be shown.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Such an activity can be no other than -the <i>æsthetic</i>, and every work of art can be -conceived only as the product of such. -The ideal work of art and the real world -of objects are therefore products of one -and the same activity; the meeting of the -two (the conscious and the unconscious) -<i>without</i> consciousness, gives the real—<i>with</i> -consciousness, the æsthetic world.</p> - -<p class='c006'>The objective world is only the primal, -still unconscious, poetry of the mind; the -universal <i>organum</i> of philosophy, the key-stone -of its whole arch, is the philosophy -of art.</p> -<h4 class='c012'>IV.—ORGAN OF TRANSCENDENTAL PHILOSOPHY.</h4> -<p class='c005'>1. The only immediate object of transcendental -consideration is the subjective -(II.); the only organ for philosophizing -in this manner is the <i>inner sense</i>, and its -object is such that, unlike that of mathematics, -it can never become the object of -external intuition. The object of mathematics, -to be sure, exists as little outside -of knowledge, as that of philosophy. The -whole existence of mathematics rests on -intuition; it exists, therefore, only in intuition; -and this intuition itself is an external -one. In addition to this, the mathematician -never has to deal immediately -with the intuition—the construction itself—but -only with the thing constructed, which, -of course, can be exhibited outwardly; -whereas the philosopher looks only at the -act of construction itself, which is purely -an internal one.</p> - -<p class='c006'>2. Moreover, the objects of the transcendental -philosopher have no existence, -except in so far as they are freely produced. -Nothing can compel to this production, -any more than the external describing -of a figure can compel one to -regard it internally. Just as the existence -of a mathematical figure rests on the outer -sense, so the whole reality of a philosophical -idea rests upon the inner sense. -The whole object of this philosophy is no -other than the action of Intelligence according -to fixed laws. This action can be -conceived only by means of a peculiar, -direct, inner intuition, and this again is -possible only by production. But this is -not enough. In philosophizing, one is not -only the object considered, but always at the -same time the subject considering. To the -understanding of philosophy, therefore, -there are two conditions indispensable: -first, that the philosopher shall be engaged -in a continuous internal activity, in a continuous -production of those primal actions -of the intelligence; second, that he shall -be engaged in continuous reflection upon -the productive action;—in a word, that he -shall be at once the contemplated (producing) -and the contemplating.</p> - -<p class='c006'>3. By this continuous duplicity of production -and intuition, that must become -an object which is otherwise reflected by -nothing. It cannot be shown here, but -will be shown in the sequel, that this -becoming-reflected on the part of the -absolutely unconscious and non-objective, -is possible only by an æsthetic act of the -imagination. Meanwhile, so much is plain -from what has already been proved, that -all philosophy is productive. Philosophy, -therefore, no less than art, rests upon the -productive faculty, and the difference between -the two, upon the different direction -of the productive power. For whereas -<span class='pageno' id='Page_165'>165</span>production in art is directed outward, in -order to reflect the unconscious by products, -philosophical production is directed -immediately inward, in order to reflect it -in intellectual intuition. The real sense -by which this kind of philosophy must be -grasped, is therefore the æsthetic sense, -and hence it is that the philosophy of art -is the true organum of philosophy (III.)</p> - -<p class='c006'>Out of the vulgar reality there are only -two means of exit—poetry, which transports -us into an ideal world, and philosophy, -which makes the real world vanish -before us. It is not plain why the sense -for philosophy should be more generally -diffused than that for poetry, especially -among that class of men, who, whether by -memory-work (nothing destroys more directly -the productive) or by dead speculation -(ruinous to all imaginative power), -have completely lost the æsthetic organ.</p> - -<p class='c006'>4. It is unnecessary to occupy time with -common-places about the sense of truth, -and about utter unconcern in regard to -results, although it might be asked, what -other conviction can yet be sacred to him -who lays hands upon the most certain of -all—that there are things outside of us? -We may rather take one glance more at the -so-called claims of the common understanding.</p> - -<p class='c006'>The common understanding in matters -of philosophy has no claims whatsoever, -except those which every object of examination -has, <i>viz.</i>, to be completely explained.</p> - -<p class='c006'>It is not, therefore, any part of our business -to prove that what it considers true, -is true, but only to exhibit the unavoidable -character of its illusions. This implies -that the objective world belongs only to -the necessary limitations which render -self-consciousness (which is I) possible; -it is enough for the common understanding, -if from this view again the necessity -of its view is derived.</p> - -<p class='c006'>For this purpose it is necessary, not only -that the inner works of the mental activity -should be laid open, and the mechanism of -necessary ideas revealed, but also that it -should be shown by what peculiarity of -our nature it is, that what has reality only -in our intuition, is reflected to us as something -existing outside of us.</p> - -<p class='c006'>As natural science produces idealism -out of realism, by mentalizing the laws of -Nature into laws of intelligence, or super-inducing -the formal upon the material -(I.), so transcendental philosophy produces -realism out of idealism, by materializing -the laws of Nature, or introducing -the material into the formal.</p> -<h3 class='c001'>GENESIS. <br /> By <span class='sc'>A. Bronson Alcott</span>.</h3> -<p class='c009'>“God is the constant and immutable Good; the world is Good in a state of becoming, and the -human soul is that in and by which the Good in the world is consummated.”—<span class='sc'>Plato.</span></p> -<h4 class='c012'>I.—VESTIGES.</h4> -<p class='c005'>Behmen, the subtilest thinker on Genesis -since Plato, conceives that Nature fell from -its original oneness by fault of Lucifer -before man rose physically from its ruins; -and moreover, that his present existence, -being the struggle to recover from Nature’s -lapse, is embarrassed with double difficulties -by deflection from rectitude on his -part. We think it needs no Lucifer other -than mankind collectively conspiring, to -account for Nature’s mishaps, or Man’s. -Since, assuming man to be Nature’s ancestor, -and Nature man’s ruins rather, himself -is the impediment he seeks to remove; -and, moreover, conceiving Nature as corresponding -in large—or macrocosmically—to -his intents, for whatsoever embarrassments -he finds therein, himself, and none -other, takes the blame. Eldest of creatures, -and progenitor of all below him, -personally one and imperishable in essence, -it follows that if debased forms appear in -Nature, it must be consequent on Man’s degeneracy -prior to their genesis. And it is -only as he lapses out of his integrity, by -<span class='pageno' id='Page_166'>166</span>debasing his essence, that he impairs his -original likeness, and drags it into the -prone shapes of the animal kingdom—these -being the effigies and vestiges of his individualized -and shattered personality. Behold -these upstarts of his loins, everywhere -the mimics jeering at him saucily, -or gaily parodying their fallen lord.</p> - -<div class='lg-container-b c011'> - <div class='linegroup'> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'>“Most happy he who hath fit place assigned</div> - <div class='line'>To his beasts, and disaforestered his mind;</div> - <div class='line'>Can use his horse, goat, wolf, and every beast,</div> - <div class='line'>And is not ape himself to all the rest.”<a id='r11' /><a href='#f11' class='c015'><sup>[11]</sup></a></div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c010'>It is man alone who conceives and brings -forth the beast in him, that swerves and -dies; perversion of will by mis-choice being -the fate that precipitates him into serpentine -form, clothed in duplicity, cleft -into sex,</p> - -<div class='lg-container-b c011'> - <div class='linegroup'> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'>“Parts of that Part which once was all.”</div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c010'>It is but one and the same soul in him, -entertaining a dialogue with himself, that -is symbolized in The Serpent, Adam, and -the Woman; nor need there be fabulous -“Paradises Lost or Regained,” for setting -in relief this serpent symbol of temptation, -this Lord or Lucifer in our spiritual Eden:</p> - -<div class='lg-container-b c011'> - <div class='linegroup'> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'>“First state of human kind,</div> - <div class='line'>Which one remains while man doth find</div> - <div class='line'>Joy in his partner’s company;</div> - <div class='line'>When two, alas! adulterate joined,</div> - <div class='line'>The serpent made the three.”</div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<h4 class='c012'>II.—THE DEUCE.</h4> -<p class='c009'>“I inquired what iniquity was, and found -it to be no substance, but perversion of the -Will from the Supreme One towards lower -things.”—<i>St. Augustine.</i></p> - -<p class='c010'>Better is he who is above temptation -than he who, being tempted, overcomes; -since the latter but suppresses the evil inclination -in his breast, which the former -has not. Whoever is tempted has so far -sinned as to entertain the tempting lust -stirring within him, and betraying his -lapse from singleness or holiness. The -virtuous choose, and are virtuous by choice; -while the holy, being one, are above all -need of deliberating, their volitions answering -spontaneously to their desires. It -is the cleft personality, or <i>other</i> within, that -confronts and seduces the Will; the Adversary -and Deuce we become individually, -and thus impersonate in the Snake.<a id='r12' /><a href='#f12' class='c015'><sup>[12]</sup></a></p> -<h4 class='c012'>III.—SERPENT SYMBOL.</h4> -<p class='c005'>One were an Œdipus to expound this -serpent mythology; yet failing this, were -to miss finding the keys to the mysteries -of Genesis, and Nature were the chaos and -abyss; since hereby the one rejoins man’s -parted personality, and recreates lost mankind. -Coeval with flesh, the symbol appears -wherever traces of civilization exist, -a remnant of it in the ancient Phallus worship -having come to us disguised in our -May-day dance. Nor was it confined to -carnal knowledge merely. The serpent -symbolized divine wisdom, also; and it -was under this acceptation that it became -associated with those “traditionary teachers -of mankind whose genial wisdom entitled -them to divine honors.” An early -Christian sect, called Ophites, worshipped -it as the personation of natural knowledge. -So the injunction, “Be ye wise as serpents -and harmless as doves,” becomes the more -significant when we learn that <i>seraph</i> in -the original means a serpent; <i>cherub</i>, a -dove; these again symbolizing facts in -osteological science as connected with the -latest theories of the invertebrated cranium -<span class='pageno' id='Page_167'>167</span>accepted by eminent naturalists, and -so substantiating the symbol in nature; -this being ophiomorphous, a series of -spires, crowned, winged, webbed, finned, -footed in structure, set erect, prone, trailing, -as charged with life in higher potency -or lower; man, supreme in personal uprightness, -and holding the sceptre of dominion -as he maintains his inborn rectitude, -or losing his prerogative as he lapses -from his integrity, thus debasing his form -and parcelling his gifts away in the prone -shapes distributed throughout Nature’s -kingdoms; or, again, aspiring for lost supremacy, -he uplifts and crowns his fallen -form with forehead, countenance, speech, -thereby liberating the genius from the -slime of its prone periods, and restoring -it to rectitude, religion, science, fellowship, -the ideal arts.<a id='r13' /><a href='#f13' class='c015'><sup>[13]</sup></a></p> - -<div class='lg-container-b c011'> - <div class='linegroup'> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'>“Unless above himself he can</div> - <div class='line'>Erect himself, how poor a thing is man.”</div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<h4 class='c012'>IV.—EMBRYONS.</h4> -<p class='c009'>“The form is in the archetype before it appears -in the work, in the divine mind before -it exists in the creature.”—<i>Leibnitz.</i></p> - -<p class='c010'>As the male impregnates the female, so -mind charges matter with form and fecundity; -the spermatic world being life in -transmission and body in embryo. So the -egg is a genesis and seminary of forms, -(the kingdoms of animated nature sleeping -coiled in its yolk) and awaits the quickening -magnetism that ushers them into light. -Herein the human embryon unfolds in -series the lineaments of all forms in the -living hierarchy, to be fixed at last in its -microcosm, unreeling therefrom its faculties -into filamental organs, spinning so -minutely the threads, “that were it physically -possible to dissolve away all other -members of the body, there would still remain -the full and perfect figure of a man. -And it is this perfect cerebro-spinal axis, -this statue-like tissue of filaments, that, -physically speaking, is the man.“ The -mind above contains him spiritually, and -reveals him physically to himself and his -kind. Every creature assists in its own -formation, souls being essentially creative -and craving form.</p> - -<p class='c006'>“For the creature delights in the image -of the Creator; and the soul of man will -in a manner clasp God to herself. Having -nothing mortal, she is wholly inebriated -from God; for she glories in the harmony -under which the human body exists.”<a id='r14' /><a href='#f14' class='c015'><sup>[14]</sup></a></p> -<h4 class='c012'>V.—PROMETHEUS.</h4> -<div class='lg-container-b c013'> - <div class='linegroup'> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'>“Imago Dei in animo; mundi, in corpore.”</div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c010'>Man is a soul, informed by divine ideas, -and bodying forth their image. His mind -is the unit and measure of things visible -and invisible. In him stir the creatures -potentially, and through his personal volitions -are conceived and brought forth in -matter whatsoever he sees, touches, and -treads under foot. The planet he spins.</p> - -<div class='lg-container-b c011'> - <div class='linegroup'> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'>He omnipresent is,</div> - <div class='line'>All round himself he lies,</div> - <div class='line'>Osiris spread abroad;</div> - <div class='line'>Upstaring in all eyes.</div> - <div class='line'>Nature his globed thought,</div> - <div class='line'>Without him she were not,</div> - <div class='line'>Cosmos from chaos were not spoken,</div> - <div class='line'>And God bereft of visible token.</div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c010'>A theosmeter—an instrument of instruments—he -gathers in himself all forces, -partakes in his plenitude of omniscience, -being spirit’s acme, and culmination in nature. -A quickening spirit and mediator -between mind and matter, he conspires -with all souls, with the Soul of souls, in -generating the substance in which he immerses -his form, and wherein he embosoms -his essence. Not elemental, but fundamental, -essential, he generates elements -and forces, expiring while consuming, and -perpetually replenishing his waste; the -<span class='pageno' id='Page_168'>168</span>final conflagration a current fact of his existence. -Does the assertion seem incredible, -absurd? But science, grown luminous -and transcendent, boldly declares -that life to the senses is ablaze, refeeding -steadily its flame from the atmosphere it -kindles into life, its embers the spent remains -from which rises perpetually the -new-born Phœnix into regions where flame -is lost in itself, and light its resolvent emblem.<a id='r15' /><a href='#f15' class='c015'><sup>[15]</sup></a></p> - -<div class='lg-container-b c011'> - <div class='linegroup'> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'>“Thee, Eye of Heaven, the great soul envies not,</div> - <div class='line'>By thy male force is all we have, begot.”</div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<h4 class='c012'>VI.—IDEAL METHOD.</h4> -<p class='c009'>“It has ever been the misfortune of the mere -materialist, in his mania for matter on the one -hand and dread of ideas on the other, to invert -nature’s order, and thus hang the world’s picture -as a man with his heels upwards.”—<i>Cudworth.</i></p> - -<p class='c010'>This inverse order of thought conducts -of necessity to conclusions as derogatory -to himself as to Nature’s author. Assuming -matter as his basis of investigation, force -as father of thought, he confounds faculties -with organs, life with brute substance, -and must needs pile his atom atop of atom, -cement cell on cell, in constructing his -column, sconce mounting sconce aspiringly -as it rises, till his shaft of gifts crown itself -surreptitiously with the ape’s glorified -effigy, as Nature’s frontispiece and head. -Life’s atomy with life omitted altogether, -man wanting. Not thus reads the ideal -naturalist the Book of lives. But opening -at spirit, and thence proceeding to ideas -and finding their types in matter, life unfolds -itself naturally in organs, faculties -begetting forces, mind moulding things -substantially, its connections and inter-dependencies -appear in series and degrees -as he traces the leaves, thought the key to -originals, man the connexus, archetype, -and classifier of things; he, straightway, -leading forth abreast of himself the animated -creation from the chaos,—the primeval -Adam naming his mates, himself their -ancestor, contemporary and survivor.</p> -<h4 class='c012'>VII.—DIALOGIC.</h4> -<p class='c005'>If the age of iron and brass be hard upon -us, fast welding its fetters and chains -about our foreheads and limbs, here, too, is -the Promethean fire of thought to liberate -letters, science, art, philosophy, using the -new agencies let loose by the Dædalus of -mechanic invention and discovery, in the -service of the soul, as of the senses. Having -recovered the omnipresence in nature, -graded space, tunnelled the abyss, joined -ocean and land by living wires, stolen the -chemistry of atom and solar ray, made -light our painter, the lightning our runner, -thought is pushing its inquiries into the -unexplored regions of man’s personality, -for whose survey and service every modern -instrument lends the outlay and means—facilities -ample and unprecedented—new -instruments for the new discoverers. Using -no longer contentedly the eyes of a toiling -circuitous logic, the genius takes the track -of the creative thought, intuitively, cosmically, -ontologically. A subtler analysis is -finely disseminated, a broader synthesis -accurately generalized from the materials -accumulated on the mind during the centuries, -the globe’s contents being gathered -in from all quarters: the book of creation, -newly illustrated and posted to date. The -new Calculus is ours: an organon alike -serviceable to naturalist and metaphysician: -a Dialogic for resolving things into -thoughts, matter into mind, power into -personality, man into God, many into one; -soul in souls seen as the creative controlling -spirit, pulsating in all bodies, inspiring, -animating, organizing, immanent in -the atoms, circulating at centre and circumference, -willing in all wills, personally -embosoming all persons an unbroken -synthesis of Being.</p> - -<div> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_169'>169</span> - <h3 class='c001'>ANALYSIS OF HEGEL’S ÆSTHETICS. <br /> Translated from the French of <span class='sc'>Ch. Benard</span>, by <span class='sc'>J. A. Martling</span>.</h3> -</div> -<h4 class='c012'>Part III. <br /> System of the Particular Arts.</h4> -<p class='c005'>Under the head of “System of the Particular -Arts,” Hegel sets forth, in this -third part, the theory of each of the arts—<i>Architecture</i>, -<i>Sculpture</i>, <i>Painting</i>, <i>Music</i> -and <i>Poetry</i>.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Before proceeding to the division of the -arts, he glances at the different <i>styles</i> -which distinguish the different epochs of -their development. He reduces them to -three styles: the <i>simple</i> or severe, the -<i>ideal</i> or beautiful, and the graceful.</p> - -<p class='c006'>1. At first the simple and natural style -presents itself to us, but it is not the -truly natural or true simplicity. That -supposes a previous perfection. Primitive -simplicity is gross, confused, rigid, -inanimate. Art in its infancy is heavy -and trifling, destitute of life and liberty, -without expression, or with an exaggerated -vivacity. Still harsh and rude in its -commencements, it becomes by degrees -master of form, and learns to unite it -intimately with content. It arrives thus at -a severe beauty. This style is the Beautiful -in its lofty simplicity. It is restricted -to reproducing a subject with its essential -traits. Disdaining grace and ornament, it -contents itself with the general and grand -expression which springs from the subject, -without the artist’s exhibiting himself and -revealing his personality in it.</p> - -<p class='c006'>2. Next in order comes the beautiful -style, the <i>ideal</i> and pure style, which -holds the mean between simple expression -and a marked tendency to the graceful. -Its character is vitality, combined with a -calm and beautiful grandeur. Grace is -not wanting, but there is rather a natural -carelessness, a simple complacency, than -the desire to please—a beauty indifferent -to the exterior charms which blossom of -themselves upon the surface. Such is the -ideal of the beautiful style—the style of -Phidias and Homer. It is the culminating -point of art.</p> - -<p class='c006'>3. But this movement is short. The -ideal style passes quickly to the graceful, -to the agreeable. Here appears an aim -different from that of the realization of -the beautiful, which pure art ought to -propose to itself, to wit: the intention of -pleasing, of producing an impression on -the soul. Hence arise works of a style -elaborate with art, and a certain seeking -for external embellishments. The subject -is no more the principal thing. The attention -of the artist is distracted by ornaments -and accessories—by the decorations, -the trimmings, the simpering airs, the attitudes -and graceful postures, or the vivid -colors and the attractive forms, the luxury -of ornaments and draperies, the learned -making of verse. But the general effect -remains without grandeur and without nobleness. -Beautiful proportions and grand -masses give place to moderate dimensions, -or are masked with ornaments. The -graceful style begets the style <i>for effect</i>, -which is an exaggeration of it. The art -then becomes altogether conspicuous; it -calls the attention of the spectator by -everything that can strike the senses. The -artist surrenders to it his personal ends -and his design. In this species of <i>tête-à-tête</i> -with the public, there is betrayed -through all, the desire of exhibiting his -wit, of attracting admiration for his ability, -his skill, his power of execution. -This art—without naturalness, full of coquetry, -of artifice and affectation, the opposite -of the severe style which yields -nothing to the public—is the style of the -epochs of decadence. Frequently it has -recourse to a last artifice, to the affectation -of profundity and of simplicity, -which is then only obscurity, a mysterious -profundity which conceals an absence of -ideas and a real impotence. This air of -mystery, which parades itself, is in its -turn, hardly better than coquetry; the -principle is the same—the desire of producing -an effect.</p> - -<p class='c006'>The author then passes to the <i>Division -<span class='pageno' id='Page_170'>170</span>of the Arts</i>. The common method classes -them according to their means of representation, -and the senses to which they -are addressed. Two senses only are affected -by the perception of the beautiful: -<i>sight</i>, which perceives forms and colors, -and <i>hearing</i>, which perceives sounds. -Hence the division into <i>arts of design</i> and -<i>musical art</i>. <i>Poetry</i>, which employs -speech, and addresses itself to the imagination, -forms a domain apart. Without -discarding this division, Hegel combines -it with another more philosophical principle -of classification, and one which is -taken no longer from the external means -of art, but from their internal relation to -the very content of the ideas which it is -to represent.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Art has for object the representation of -the ideal. The arts ought then to be -classed according to the measure in which -they are more or less capable of expressing -it. This gradation will have at the -same time the advantage of corresponding -to historic progress, and to the fundamental -forms of art previously studied.</p> - -<p class='c006'>According to this principle, the arts -marshal themselves, and succeed one -another, to form a regular and complete -system, thus:</p> - -<p class='c006'>1. First <i>Architecture</i> presents itself. -This art, in fact, is incapable of representing -an idea otherwise than in a vague, -indeterminate manner. It fashions the -masses of inorganic nature, according to -the laws of matter and geometrical proportions; -it disposes them with regularity -and symmetry in such a manner as to -offer to the eyes an image which is a simple -reflex of the spirit, a dumb symbol of -the thought. Architecture is at the same -time appropriated to ends which are foreign -to it: it is destined to furnish a -dwelling for man and a temple for Divinity; -it must shelter under its roof, in its -enclosure, the other arts, and, in particular, -sculpture and painting.</p> - -<p class='c006'>For these reasons architecture should, -historically and logically, be placed first -in the series of the arts.</p> - -<p class='c006'>2. In a higher rank is Sculpture, which -already exhibits spirit under certain determinate -traits. Its object, in fact, is -spirit individualized, revealed by the human -form and its living organism. Under -this visible appearance, by the features of -the countenance, and the proportions of -the body, it expresses ideal beauty, divine -calmness, serenity—in a word, the classic -ideal.</p> - -<p class='c006'>3. Although retained in the world of -visible forms, Painting offers a higher degree -of spirituality. To form, it adds the -different phases of visible appearance, -the illusions of perspective, color, light -and shades, and thereby it becomes capable, -not only of reproducing the various -pictures of nature, but also of expressing -upon canvas the most profound sentiments -of the human soul, and all the scenes of -ethical life.</p> - -<p class='c006'>4. But, as an expression of sentiment, -<i>Music</i> still surpasses painting. What it -expresses is the soul itself, in its most intimate -and profound relations; and this -by a sensuous phenomenon, equally invisible, -instantaneous, intangible—sound—sonorous -vibrations, which resound in the -abysses of the soul, and agitate it -throughout.</p> - -<p class='c006'>5. All these arts culminate in Poetry, -which includes them and surpasses them, -and whose superiority is due to its mode -of expression—<i>speech</i>. It alone is capable -of expressing all ideas, all sentiments, -all passions, the highest conceptions of -the intelligence, and the most fugitive -impressions of the soul. To it alone is -given to represent an action in its complete -development and in all its phases. -It is the universal art—its domain is unlimited. -Hence it is divided into many -species, of which the principal are <i>epic</i>, -<i>lyric</i> and <i>dramatic</i> poetry.</p> - -<p class='c006'>These five arts form the complete and -organized system of the arts. Others, -such as the <i>art of gardening, dancing, engraving, -etc.</i>, are only accessories, and -more or less connected with the preceding. -They have not the right to occupy a -distinct place in a general theory; they -would only introduce confusion, and disfigure -the fundamental type which is peculiar -to each of them.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Such is the division adopted by Hegel. -He combines it, at the same time, with his -<span class='pageno' id='Page_171'>171</span>general division of the forms of the historic -development of art. Thus architecture -appears to him to correspond more -particularly to the <i>symbolic</i> type; sculpture -is the <i>classic</i> art, <i>par excellence</i>; -painting and music fill the category of the -<i>romantic</i> arts. Poetry, as art universal, -belongs to all epochs.</p> - -<p class='c006'>I. <span class='sc'>Architecture.</span>—In the study of architecture, -Hegel follows a purely historic -method. He limits himself to describing -and characterizing its principal forms in -the different epochs of history. This art, -in fact, lends itself to an abstract theory -less than the others. There are here few -principles to establish; and when we depart -from generalities, we enter into the -domain of mathematical laws, or into the -technical applications, foreign to pure -science. It remains, then, only to determine -the sense and the character of its -monuments, in their relation to the spirit -of the people, and the epochs to which -they belong. It is to this point of view -that the author has devoted himself. The -division which he adopts on this subject, -and the manner in which he explains it, -are as follows:</p> - -<p class='c006'>The object of architecture, independent -of the positive design and the use to -which its monuments are appropriated, is -to express a general thought, by forms -borrowed from inorganic nature, by masses -fashioned and disposed according to the -laws of geometry and mechanics. But -whatever may be the ideas and the impressions -which the appearance of an edifice -produces, it never furnishes other than -an obscure and enigmatic emblem. The -thought is vaguely represented by those -material forms which spirit itself does not -animate.</p> - -<p class='c006'>If such is the nature of this art, it follows -that, essentially symbolic, it must -predominate in that first epoch of history -which is distinguished by the symbolic -character of its monuments. It must show -itself there freer, more independent of -practical utility, not subordinated to a -foreign end. Its essential object ought to -be to express ideas, to present emblems, to -symbolize the beliefs of those peoples, incapable -as they are of otherwise expressing -them. It is the proper language of -such an epoch—a language enigmatic and -mysterious; it indicates the effort of the -imagination to represent ideas, still vague. -Its monuments are problems proposed to -future ages, and which as yet are but imperfectly -comprehended.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Such is the character of oriental architecture. -There the end is valueless or accessory; -the symbolic expression is the -principal object. Architecture is <i>independent</i>, -and sculpture is confounded with it.</p> - -<p class='c006'>The monuments of Greek and Roman -architecture present a wholly different -character. Here, the aim of utility appears -clearly distinct from expression. -The purpose, the design of the monument -comes out in an evident manner. It is a -dwelling, a shelter, a temple, etc.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Sculpture, for its part, is detached from -architecture, and assigns its end to it. -The image of the god, enclosed in the -temple, is the principal object. The temple -is only a shelter, an external attendant. -Its forms are regulated according to the -laws of numbers, and the proportions of a -learned eurythmy; but its true ornaments -are furnished to it by sculpture. -Architecture ceases then to be independent -and symbolic; it becomes dependent, -subordinated to a positive end.</p> - -<p class='c006'>As to Christian architecture or that of -the Middle Ages, it presents the union of -the two preceding characteristics. It is at -once devoted to a useful end, and eminently -expressive or symbolic—<i>dependent</i> -and <i>independent</i>. The temple is the house -of God; it is devoted to the uses and ceremonies -of worship, and shows throughout -its design in its forms; but at the same -time these symbolize admirably the Christian -idea.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Thus the symbolic, classic and romantic -forms, borrowed from history, and which -mark the whole development of art, serve -for the division and classification of the -forms of architecture. This being especially -the art which is exercised in the domain -of matter, the essential point to be -distinguished is whether the monument -which is addressed to the eyes includes in -itself its own meaning, or whether it is -considered as a means to a foreign end, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_172'>172</span>or finally whether, although in the service -of a foreign end, it preserves its independence.</p> - -<p class='c006'>The <i>basis</i> of the division being thus -placed, Hegel justifies it by describing the -characters of the monuments belonging to -these three epochs. All this descriptive -part can not be analyzed: we are obliged -to limit ourselves to securing a comprehension -of the general features, and to noting -the most remarkable points.</p> - -<p class='c006'>(<i>a</i>) Since the distinctive characteristic of -symbolic architecture is the expression of -a general thought, without other end than -the representation of it, the interest in its -monuments is less in their positive design -than in the religious conceptions of the -people, who, not having other means of -expression, have embodied their thought, -still vague and confused, in these gigantic -masses and these colossal images. Entire -nations know not how otherwise to express -their religious beliefs. Hence the symbolic -character of the structures of the -Babylonians, the Indians and the Egyptians, -of those works which absorbed the -life of those peoples, and whose meaning -we seek to explain to ourselves.</p> - -<p class='c006'>It is difficult to follow a regular order in -the absence of chronology, when we review -the multiplicity of ideas and forms -which these monuments and these symbols -present. Hegel thinks, nevertheless, that -he is able to establish the following gradations:</p> - -<p class='c006'>In the first rank are the simplest monuments, -such as seem only designed to serve -as a bond of union to entire nations, or to -different nations. Such gigantic structures -as the tower of Belus or Babylon, upon -the shores of the Euphrates, present the -image of the union of the peoples before -their dispersion. Community of toil and -effort is the aim and the very idea of the -work; it is the common work of their -united efforts, the symbol of the dissolution -of the primitive family and of the -formation of a vaster society.</p> - -<p class='c006'>In a rank more elevated, appear the monuments -of a more determined character, -where is noticeable a mingling of architecture -and sculpture, although they belong -to the former. Such are those symbols -which, in the East, represent the -generative force of nature; the <i>phallus</i> -and the <i>lingam</i> scattered in so great numbers -throughout Phrygia and Syria, and -of which India is the principal seat; in -Egypt, the obelisks, which derive their -symbolic significance from the rays of the -sun; the Memnons, colossal statues which -also represent the sun and his beneficent -influence upon nature; the sphinxes, -which one finds in Egypt in prodigious -numbers and of astonishing size, ranged -in rows in the form of avenues. These -monuments, of an imposing sculpture, are -grouped in masses, surrounded by walls -so as to form buildings.</p> - -<p class='c006'>They present, in a striking manner, the -twofold character indicated above: free -from all positive design, they are, above -all, symbols; afterward, sculpture is confounded -with architecture. They are -structures without roof, without doors, -without aisles, frequently forests of colums -where the eye loses itself. The eye -passes over objects which are there for -their own sake, designed only to strike the -imagination by their colossal aspect and -their enigmatic sense, not to serve as a -dwelling for a god, and as a place of assemblage -for his worshippers. Their order -and their disposition alone preserve for -them an architectural character. You walk -on into the midst of those human works, -mute symbols which remind you of divine -things; your eyes are everywhere struck -with the aspect of those forms and those -extraordinary figures, of those walls besprinkled -with hieroglyphics, books of -stone, as it were, leaves of a mysterious -book. Everything there is symbolically determined—the -proportions, the distances, -the number of columns, etc. The Egyptians, -in particular, consecrated their lives -to constructing and building these monuments, -by instinct, as a swarm of bees -builds its hive. This was the whole life of -the people. It placed there all its thought, -for it could no otherwise express it.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Nevertheless, that architecture, in one -point, by its chambers and its halls, its -tombs, begins to approach the following -class, which exhibits a more positive design, -and of which the type is a house.</p> - -<p class='c006'><span class='pageno' id='Page_173'>173</span>A third rank marks the transition of -symbolic to classic architecture. Architecture -already presents a character of -utility, of conformity to an end. The -monument has a precise design; it serves -for a particular use taken aside from the -symbolic sense. It is a temple or a tomb. -Such, in the first place, is the subterranean -architecture of the Indians, those vast excavations -which are also temples, species -of subterranean cathedrals, the caverns of -Mithra, likewise filled with symbolic sculpture. -But this transition is better characterized -by the double architecture, (subterranean -and above ground) of the Egyptians, -which is connected with their worship -of the dead. An individual being, who -has his significance and his proper value; -the dead one, distinct from his habitation -which serves him only for covering and -shelter, resides in the interior. The most -ancient of these tombs are the pyramids, -species of crystals, envelopes of stone -which enclose a kernel, an invisible being, -and which serve for the preservation of the -bodies. In this concealed dead one, resides -the significance of the <i>monument</i> which is -subordinate to him.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Here, then, <i>Architecture</i> ceases to be independent. -It divides itself into two elements—the -end and the means; it is the -means, and it is subservient to an end. -Further, sculpture separates itself from it, -and obtains a distinct office—that of shaping -the image within, and its accessories. -Here appears clearly the special design of -architecture, conformity to an end; also -it assumes inorganic and geometric forms, -the abstract, mathematical form, which -befits it in particular. The pyramid already -exhibits the design of a house, the -rectangular form.</p> - -<p class='c006'>(<i>b</i>) Classic architecture has a two-fold -point of departure—symbolic architecture -and necessity. The adaptation of parts to -an end, in symbolic architecture, is accessory. -In the house, on the contrary, all -is controlled, from the first, by actual necessity -and convenience. Now classic -architecture proceeds both from the one -and from the other principle, from necessity -and from art, from the useful and -from the beautiful, which it combines in -the most perfect manner. Necessity produces -regular forms, right angles, plane -surfaces. But the end is not simply the -satisfaction of a physical necessity; there -is also an idea, a religious representation, -a sacred image, which it has to shelter -and surround, a worship, a religious ceremonial. -The temple ought then, like the -temple fashioned by sculpture, to spring -from the creative imagination of the artist. -There is necessary a dwelling for the god, -fashioned by art and according to its laws.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Thus, while falling under the law of -conformity to an end, and ceasing to be -independent, architecture escapes from -the useful and submits to the law of the -beautiful; or rather, the beautiful and -useful meet and combine themselves in the -happiest manner. Symmetry, eurythmy, -organic forms the most graceful, the most -rich, and the most varied, join themselves -as ornaments to the architectural forms. -The two points of view are united without -being confounded, and form an harmonious -whole; there will be, at the same time, -a useful, convenient and beautiful architecture.</p> - -<p class='c006'>What best marks the transition to Greek -architecture, is the appearance of the column, -which is its type. The column is a -support. Therein is its useful and mechanical -design; it fulfils that design in the -most simple and perfect manner, because -with it the power of support is reduced to -its minimum of material means. From -another side, in order to be adapted to its -end and to beauty, it must give up its -natural and primitive form. The beautiful -column comes from a form borrowed -from nature; but carved, shaped, it takes a -regular and geometric configuration. In -Egypt, human figures serve as columns; -here they are replaced by caryatides. But -the natural, primitive form is the tree, the -trunk, the flexible stock, which bears its -crown. Such, too, appears the Egyptian -column; columns are seen rising from the -vegetable kingdom in the stalks of the -lotus and other trees; the base resembles -an onion. The leaf shoots from the root, -like that of a reed, and the capital presents -<span class='pageno' id='Page_174'>174</span>the appearance of a flower. The -mathematical and regular form is absent. -In the Greek column, on the contrary, all -is fashioned according to the mathematical -laws of regularity and proportion. The -beautiful column springs from a form borrowed -from nature, but fashioned according -to the artistic sense.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Thus the characteristic of classic architecture, -as of architecture in general, is -the union of beauty and utility. Its beauty -consists in its regularity, and although it -serves a foreign end, it constitutes a whole -perfect in itself; it permits its essential -aim to look forth in all its parts, and -through the harmony of its relations, it -transforms the useful into the beautiful.</p> - -<p class='c006'>The character of classic architecture being -subordination to an end, it is that -end which, without detriment to beauty, -gives to the entire edifice its proper signification, -and which becomes thus the principal -regulator of all its parts; as it impresses -itself on the whole, and determines -its fundamental form. The first thing -as to a work of this sort, then, is to know -what is its purpose, its design. The general -purpose of a Grecian temple is to hold -the statue of a god. But in its exterior, -the character of the temple relates to a -different end, and its spirit is the life of -the Greek people.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Among the Greeks, open structures, colonnades -and porticoes, have as object the -promenade in the open air, conversation, -public life under a pure sky. Likewise -the dwellings of private persons are insignificant. -Among the Romans, on the contrary, -whose national architecture has a -more positive end in utility, appears later -the luxury of private houses, palaces, -villas, theatres, circuses, amphitheatres, -aqueducts and fountains. But the principal -edifice is that whose end is most remote -from the wants of material life; it -is the temple designed to serve as a shelter -to a divine object, which already belongs -to the fine arts—to the statue of a -god.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Although devoted to a determinate end, -this architecture is none the less free from -it, in the sense, that it disengages itself -from organic forms; it is more free even -than sculpture, which is obliged to reproduce -them; it invents its plan, the general -configuration, and it displays in external -forms all the richness of the imagination; -it has no other laws than those of good -taste and harmony; it labors without a -direct model. Nevertheless, it works -within a limited domain, that of mathematical -figures, and it is subjected to the -laws of mechanics. Here must be preserved, -first of all, the relations between -the width, the length, the height of the -edifice; the exact proportions of the columns -according to their thickness, the -weight to be supported, the intervals, the -number of columns, the style, the simplicity -of the ornaments. It is this which -gives to the theory of this art, and in particular -of this form of architecture, the -character of dryness and abstraction. But -there dominates throughout, a natural -eurythmy, which their perfectly accurate -sense enabled the Greeks to find and fix -as the measure and rule of the beautiful.</p> - -<p class='c006'>We will not follow the author in the description -which he gives of the particular -characteristics of architectural forms; we -will omit also some other interesting details -upon building in wood or in stone as -the primitive type, upon the relation of -the different parts of the Greek temple. -In here following Vitruvius, the author -has been able to add some discriminating -and judicious remarks. What he says, in -particular, of the column, of its proportions -and of its design, of the internal -unity of the different parts and of their -effects as a whole, adds to what is already -known a philosophical explication which -satisfies the reason. We remark, especially, -this passage, which sums up the general -character of the Greek temple: “In -general, the Greek temple presents an aspect -which satisfies the vision, and, so to -speak, surfeits it. Nothing is very elevated, -it is regularly extended in length -and breadth. The eye finds itself allured -by the sense of extent, while Gothic architecture -mounts even beyond measurement, -and shoots upward to heaven. Besides, the -ornaments are so managed that they do -<span class='pageno' id='Page_175'>175</span>not mar the general expression of simplicity. -In this, the ancients observe the -most beautiful moderation.”</p> - -<p class='c006'>The connection of their architecture -with the genius, the spirit, and the life of -the Greek people, is indicated in the following -passage: “In place of the spectacle -of an assemblage united for a single -end, all appears directed towards the exterior, -and presents us the image of an -animated promenade. There men who have -leisure abandon themselves to conversations -without end, wherein rule gayety and -serenity. The whole expression of such a -temple remains truly simple and grand in -itself, but it has at the same time an air -of serenity, something open and graceful.” -This prepares and conducts us to another -kind of architecture, which presents a -striking contrast to the preceding Christian -or Gothic architecture.</p> - -<p class='c006'>(<i>c</i>) We shall not further attempt to reproduce, -even in its principal features, the -description which Hegel gives, in some -pages, of Romantic or Gothic architecture. -The author has proposed to himself, as -object, in the first place, to compare the -two kinds of architecture, the Greek and -the Christian, then to secure the apprehension -of the relation of this form of architecture -to the Christian idea. This is -what constitutes the peculiar interest of -this remarkable sketch, which, by its vigor -and severity of design, preserves its distinctive -merit when compared with all descriptions -that have been made of the -architecture of the Middle Ages.</p> - -<p class='c006'><i>Gothic</i> architecture, according to Hegel, -unites, in the first place, the opposite characters -of the two preceding kinds. Notwithstanding, -this union does not consist -in the simple fusion of the architectural -forms of the East and of Greece. Here, -still more than in the Greek temple, the -house furnishes the fundamental type. An -architectural edifice which is the house of -God, shows itself perfectly in conformity -with its design and adapted to worship; -but the monument is also there for its own -sake, independent, absolute. Externally, -the edifice ascends, shoots freely into the -air.</p> - -<p class='c006'>The conformity to the end, although it -presents itself to the eyes, is therefore -effaced, and leaves to the whole the appearance -of an independent existence. The -monument has a determinate sense, and -shows it; but, in its grand aspect and its -sublime calm, it is lifted above all end in -utility, to something infinite in itself.</p> - -<p class='c006'>If we examine the relation of this architecture -to the inner spirit and the idea of -Christian worship, we remark, in the first -place, that the fundamental form is here -the house wholly closed. Just as, in fact, -the Christian spirit withdraws itself into -the interior of the conscience, just so the -church is an enclosure, sealed on all sides, -the place of meditation and silence. “It -is the place of the reflection of the soul -into itself, which thus shuts itself up materially -in space. On the other hand, if, -in Christian meditation, the soul withdraws -into itself, it is, at the same time, -lifted above the finite, and this equally -determines the character of the house -of God. Architecture takes, then, for -its independent signification, elevation -towards the infinite, a character which -it expresses by the proportions of its -architectural forms.” These two traits, -depth of self-examination and elevation -of the soul towards the infinite, explain -completely the Gothic architecture and its -principal forms. They furnish also the -essential differences between Gothic and -Greek architecture.</p> - -<p class='c006'>The impression which the Christian -church ought to produce in contrast with -this open and serene aspect of the Greek -temple, is, in the first place, the calmness -of the soul which reflects into itself, then -that of a sublime majesty which shoots -beyond the confines of sense. Greek edifices -extend horizontally; the Christian -church should lift itself from the ground -and shoot into the air.</p> - -<p class='c006'>The most striking characteristic which -the house of God presents, in its whole -and its parts, is, then, the free flight, the -shooting in points formed either by broken -arches or by right lines. In Greek architecture, -exact proportion between support -and height is everywhere observed. Here, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_176'>176</span>on the contrary, the operation of supporting -and the disposition at a right angle—the -most convenient for this end—disappears -or is effaced. The walls and the -column shoot without marked difference -between what supports and what is supported, -and meet in an acute angle. Hence -the acute triangle and the ogee, which -form the characteristic traits of Gothic -architecture.</p> - -<p class='c006'>We are not able to follow the author in -the detailed explication of the different -forms and the divers parts of the Gothic -edifice, and of its total structure.</p> -<h3 class='c001'>THE METAPHYSICS OF MATERIALISM. <br /> By <span class='sc'>D. G. Brinton</span>.</h3> - -<p class='c005'><i>Ubi tres physici, ibi duo athei</i>,—the -proverb is something musty. Natural -science is and always has been materialistic. -The explanation is simple. There is as -great antagonism between chemical research -and metaphysical speculation, as -there is between what</p> - -<div class='lg-container-b c011'> - <div class='linegroup'> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line in10'>“Youthful poets dream,</div> - <div class='line'>On summer’s eve by haunted stream,”</div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c010'>and book-keeping by double entry, and -nothing is more customary than to deny -what we do not understand. Of late years -this scientific materialism has been making -gigantic strides. Since the imposing fabric -of the Hegelian philosophy proved but -a house built on sands, the scales and metre -have become our only gods.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Germany—mystic, metaphysical Germany—strange -to say, leads the van in -this crusade against all faith and all idealism. -Vogt, the geologist, Moleschott, the -physiologist, Virchow, the greatest of all -living histologists, Büchner, Tiedemann, -Reuchlin, Meldeg, and many others, not -only hold these opinions, but have left the -seclusion of the laboratory and the clinic -to enter the arena of polemics in their favor. -We do not mention the French and -English advocates of “positive philosophy.” -Their name is Legion.</p> - -<p class='c006'>It is not our design to enter at all at -large into these views, still less to dispute -them, but merely to give the latest and -most approved defence of a single point -of their position, a point which we -submit is the kernel of the whole controversy, -and which we believe to be the -very Achilles heel and crack in the armor -of their panoply of argument—that is, -the <i>Theory of the Absolute</i>. Demonstrate -the possibility of the Absolute, and materialism -is impossible; disprove it, and -all other philosophies are empty nothings,—<i>vox -et præterea nihil</i>. Here, and -only here, is materialism brought face -to face with metaphysics; here is the -combat <i>à l’outrance</i> in which one or the -other must perish. No one of its apostles -has accepted the proffered glaive more -heartily, and defended his position with -more wary dexterity, than Moleschott, and -it is mainly from his work, entitled <i>Der -Kreislauf des Lebens</i>, that we illustrate -the present metaphysics of materialism.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Our first question is, What is the test of -truth, what sanctions a law? Until this -is answered, all assertion is absurd, and -until it is answered correctly, all philosophy -is vain. The response of the naturalist -is: “The necessary sequence of cause -and effect is the prime law of the experimentalist—a -law which he does not ask -from revelation, but will find out for himself -by observation.” The source of truth -is sensation; the uniform result of manifold -experience is a law. Here a double -objection arises: first, that the term “a -necessary sequence” presupposes a law, -and begs the question at issue; and, secondly, -that, this necessity unproved, such -truth is nothing more than a probability, -for it is impossible to be certain that our -next experiment may not have quite a different -result. Either this is not the road -to absolute truth, or absolute truth is unattainable. -The latter horn of the dilemma -is at once accepted; we neither know, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_177'>177</span>nor can know, a law to be absolute; to us, -the absolute does not exist. Matter and -force with their relations are there, but -what we know of them is a varying quantity, -is of this age or the last, of this man -or that, dependent upon the extent and -accuracy of empirical science; we cannot -speak of what we do not know, and we -know no law that conceivable experience -might not contradict.</p> - -<p class='c006'>But how, objects the reader, can this be -reconciled with the pure mathematics? -Here seem to be laws above experience, -laws admitting no exception.</p> - -<p class='c006'>The response leads us back to the origin -of our notions of <i>Space</i> and <i>Time</i>, on the -the former of which mathematics is -founded. The supposition that they are -innate ideas is of course rejected by the -materialist; for he looks upon innate -ideas as fables; he considers them perceptions -derived positively from the senses, -but they do not belong to the senses alone, -nor are they perceptions merely; “they -are ideas, but ideas that without the sensuous -perceptions of proximity and sequence -could never have arisen. Nay, more—the -perception of space must precede that of -time,” for it is only through the former -that we can reach the latter. The plainest -laws of space, those which were the -earliest impressions on the <i>tabula rasa</i> of -the infant mind, and which the hourly experience -of life verifies, are called, by the -mathematician, <i>axioms</i>, and on these simplest -generalizations of our perceptions -he bases the whole of his structure. Axioms, -therefore, are the uniform results of -experiments, the possible conditions of -which are extremely limited, and the factors -of which have been subjected to all -these conditions.</p> - -<p class='c006'>It follows from a denial of the absolute -that all existence is concrete. Indeed, we -may say that the corner stone of the edifice -of materialism is embraced in the terse -sentence of Moleschott—<i>all existence is existence -through attributes</i>. Existence <i>per -se</i> (<i>Fürsichsein</i>) is a meaningless term, and -substance apart from attribute, the <i>ens -ineffabile</i>, is a pedantic figment and nothing -more. Finally, there can be no attribute -except through a relation.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Let this trilogy of existence, attribute -and relation, be clearly before the mind, -and the position that the positive philosophy -bears to all others becomes at once -luminous enough. There is no existence -apart from attributes, no attributes but -through relations, no relations but to other -existences. To exemplify: a stone is heavy, -hard, colored, perhaps bitter to the taste. -Now, says the idealist, this weight, this -hardness, this color, this bitterness, these -are not the stone, they are merely its properties -or attributes, and the stone itself is -some substance behind them all, to which -they adhere and which we cannot detect -with our senses; further, he might add, if -a moderate in his school, these attributes -are independently existent, the bitterness -is there when we are not tasting it, and -the attribute of color, though there be no -light. All this the materialist denies. To -him, the attributes and nothing else constitute -the stone, and these attributes have -no existence apart from their relations to -other objects. The bitterness exists only -in relation to the organs of taste, and the -color to the organs of sight, and the weight -to other bodies of matter. Nothing, in -short, can be said to exist to us that is not -cognizable by our senses. But, objects -some one, there may be an existence which -is not <i>to us</i>, which is as much beyond our -ken as color is beyond the conception of -the born blind. The expression was used -advisedly: no such existence can become -the subject of rational language. “Does -not all knowledge predicate a knower, consequently -a relation of the subject to the -the observer? Such a relation is an attribute. -Without it, knowledge is inconceivable. -Neither God nor man can raise himself -above the knowledge furnished by -these relations to his organs of apprehension.”</p> - -<p class='c006'>A disagreeable sequence to this logic -will not fail to occur to every one. If all -knowledge comes from the organs of sense, -then differently formed organs must furnish -very different and contradictory -knowledge, and one is as likely to be correct -as another. The radiate animal, who -sees the world through a cornea alone, must -have quite another notion of light, color, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_178'>178</span>and relative size, from the spider whose -eye is provided with lenses and a vitreous -humor. Consonantly with the theory, -each of these probably opposing views is -equally true. This ugly dilemma is foreseen -by our author, for he grants that -“the knowledge of the insect, its knowledge -of the action of the outer world, is -altogether a different one from that of -man,” but he avoids the ultimate result of -this reasoning.</p> - -<p class='c006'>To sum up the views of this school: -matter is eternal, force is eternal, but each -is impossible without the other; what bears -any relation to our senses we either know -or can know; what does not, it is absurd -to discuss; the highest thought is but the -physical elaboration of sensations, or, to -use the expression of Carl Vogt, “thought -is a secretion of the brain as urine is of the -kidneys. Without phosphorus there is no -thought.” “And so,” concludes Moleschott, -“only when thought is based on -fact, only when the reason is granted no -sphere of action but the historical which -arises from observation, when the perception -is at the same time thought, and the -understanding sees with consciousness, -does the contradiction between Philosophy -and Science disappear.”</p> - -<p class='c006'>This, then, is the last word of materialism, -this the solution it now offers us of -the great problem of Life. We enter no -further into its views, for all collateral -questions concerning the origin of the -ideas of the true, the good and the beautiful, -the vital force, and the spiritual life, -depend directly on the question we have -above mentioned. Let the reader turn back -precisely a century to the <i>Système de la -Nature</i>, so long a boasted bulwark of the -rationalistic school, and judge for himself -what advance, if any, materialism has -made in fortifying this, the most vital -point of her structure. Let him ask himself -anew whether the criticism of Hume -on the law of cause and effect can in any -way be met except after the example of -Kant, by the assumption of the absolute -idea, and we have little doubt what conclusion -he will arrive at in reference to -that system which, while it boasts to offer -the only method of discovering truth, -starts with the flat denial of all truth -other than relative.</p> -<h3 class='c001'>LETTERS ON FAUST. <br /> By <span class='sc'>H. C. Brockmeyer</span>.</h3> -<h4 class='c012'>I.</h4> -<p class='c005'><span class='sc'>Dear H.</span>—Yours of a recent date, requesting -an epistolary criticism of “Goethe’s -Faust,” has come to hand, and I -hasten to assure you of a compliance of -some sort. I say a compliance of some -sort, for I cannot promise you a criticism. -This, it seems to me, would be both too -little and too much; too little if understood -in the ordinary sense, as meaning a -mere statement of the <i>relation</i> existing -between the work and myself; too much -if interpreted as pledging an expression of -a work of the creative imagination, as a -totality, in the terms of the understanding, -and submitting the result to the canons of -art.</p> - -<p class='c006'>The former procedure, usually called -criticism, reduced to its simplest forms, -amounts to this: that I, the critic, report -to you, that I was amused or bored, flattered -or satirized, elevated or degraded, -humanized or brutalized, enlightened or -mystified, pleased or displeased, by the -work under consideration; and—since it -depends quite as much upon my own humor, -native ability, and culture acquired, -which set of adjectives I may be able to -report, as it does upon the work—I cannot -perceive what earthly profit such a labor -could be to you. For that which is clear -to you may be dark to me; hence, if I report -that a given work is a “perfect riddle -to me,” you will only smile at my simplicity. -Again, that which amuses me -may bore you, for I notice that even at the -theatre, some will yawn with <i>ennui</i> while -others thrill with delight, and applaud the -play. Now, if each of these should tell -you how <i>he</i> liked the performance, the one -<span class='pageno' id='Page_179'>179</span>would say “excellent,” and the other -“miserable,” and you be none the wiser. -To expect, therefore, that I intend to enter -upon a labor of this kind, is to expect too -little.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Besides, such an undertaking seems to -me not without its peculiar danger; for it -may happen that the work measures or -criticises the critic, instead of the latter -the former. If, for example, I should tell -you that the integral and differential calculus -is all fog to me—mystifies me completely—you -would conclude my knowledge -of mathematics to be rather imperfect, -and thus use my own report of that work as -a sounding-lead to ascertain the depth of -my attainment. Nay, you might even go -further, and regard the work as a kind of -Doomsday Book, on the title page of -which I had “written myself down an -ass.” Now, as I am not ambitious of a -memorial of this kind, especially when -there is no probability that the pages in -contemplation—Goethe’s Faust—will perish -any sooner than the veritable Doomsday -Book itself, I request you, as a special -favor, not to understand of me that I propose -engaging in any undertaking of this -sort.<a id='r16' /><a href='#f16' class='c015'><sup>[16]</sup></a></p> - -<p class='c006'>Nor are you to expect an inquiry into -the quantity or quality of the author’s -food, drink or raiment. For the present -infantile state of analytic science refuses -all aid in tracing such <i>primary</i> elements, -so to speak, in the composition of the -poem before us; and hence such an investigation -would lead, at best, to very secondary -and remote conclusions. Nor shall -we be permitted to explore the likes and -dislikes of the poet, in that fine volume of -scandal, for the kindred reason that neither -crucible, reagent nor retort are at -hand which can be of the remotest service.</p> - -<p class='c006'>By the by, has it never occurred to you, -when perusing works of the kind last referred -to, what a glowing picture the pious -Dean of St. Patrick’s, the <i>saintly Swift</i>, -has bequeathed to us of their producers, -when he places the great authors, the -historical Gullivers of our race, in all -their majesty of form, astride the public -thoroughfare of a Liliputian age, and -marches the inhabitants, in solid battalions, -through between their legs? you recollect -what he says?</p> - -<p class='c006'>Nor yet are you to expect a treat of that -most delightful of all compounds, the table -talk and conversation—or, to use a -homely phrase, the <i>literary dishwater</i> -retailed by the author’s scullion. To expect -such, or the like, would be to expect -too little.</p> - -<p class='c006'>On the other hand, to expect that I shall -send you an expression, in the terms of -the understanding, of a work of the creative -imagination, as a totality, and submit -the result to the canons of art, is to expect -too much. For while I am ready, -and while I intend to comply with the -first part of this proposition, I am unable -to fulfil the requirement of the latter -part—that is, I am not able to submit the -result to the canons of art. The reason -for this inability it is not necessary to -develop in this connection any further -than merely to mention that I find it extremely -inconvenient to lay my hand upon -the aforementioned canons just at this -time.</p> - -<p class='c006'>I must, therefore, content myself with -the endeavor to summon before you the -<i>Idea</i> which creates the poem—each act, -scene and verse—so that we may see the -part in its relation to the whole, and the -whole in its concrete, organic articulation. -If we succeed in this, then we may say -that we <i>comprehend</i> the work—a condition -precedent alike to the beneficial enjoyment -and the rational judgment of the same.</p> -<h4 class='c012'>II.</h4> -<p class='c005'>In my first letter, dear friend, I endeavored -to guard you against misapprehension -<span class='pageno' id='Page_180'>180</span>as to what you might expect from me. Its -substance, if memory serves me, was that -I did not intend to write on Anthropology -or Psychology, nor yet on street, parlor or -court gossip, but simply about a work of -art.</p> - -<p class='c006'>I deemed these remarks pertinent in -view of the customs of the time, lest that, -in my not conforming to them, you should -judge me harshly without profit to yourself. -With the same desire of keeping up -a fair understanding with you, I must call -your attention to some terms and distinctions -which we shall have occasion to use, -and which, unless explained, might prove -shadows instead of lights along the path -of our intercourse.</p> - -<p class='c006'>I confess to you that I share the (I might -say) abhorrence so generally entertained by -the reading public, of the use of any general -terms whatsoever, and would avoid -them altogether if I could only see how. -But in reading the poem that we are to -consider, I come upon such passages as -these:</p> - -<div class='lg-container-b c011'> - <div class='linegroup'> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'>(<i>Choir of invisible Spirits.</i>)</div> - </div> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line in14'>“Woe! Woe!</div> - <div class='line in6'>Thou hast destroyed it,</div> - <div class='line in6'>The beautiful world!</div> - <div class='line in6'>It reels, it crumbles,</div> - <div class='line'>Crushed by a demigod’s mighty hand!”</div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c010'>and I cannot see how we are to understand -these spirits, or the poet who gave them -voice, unless we attack this very general -expression “The beautiful world,” here -said to have been destroyed by Faust.</p> - -<p class='c006'>I am, however, somewhat reconciled to -this by the example of my neighbor—a -non-speculative, practical farmer—now -busily engaged in harvesting his wheat. -For I noticed that he first directed his attention, -after cutting the grain, to collecting -and tying it together in bundles; and -I could not help but perceive how much -this facilitated his labor, and how difficult -it would have been for him to collect his -wheat, grain by grain, like the sparrow of -the field. Though wheat it were, and not -chaff, still such a mode of handling would -reduce it even below the value of chaff.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Just think of handling the wheat crop -of these United States, the two hundred -and twenty-five millions of bushels a year, -in this manner! It is absolutely not to be -thought of, and we must have recourse to -agglomeration, if not to generalization. -But the one gives us general <i>masses</i>, and -the other general <i>terms</i>. The only thing -that we can do, therefore, is, in imitation -of our good neighbor of the wheat field, -to handle bundles, bushels, and bags, or—what -is still better, if it can be done by -some daring system of intellectual elevators—whole -ship loads of grain at a time, -due care being taken that we tie wheat to -wheat, oats to oats, barley to barley, and -not promiscuously.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Now, with this example well before our -minds, and the necessity mentioned, which -compels us to handle—not merely the -wheat crop of the United States for one -year, but—whatever has been raised by -the intelligence of man from the beginning -of our race to the time of Goethe -the poet, together with the ground on -which it was raised, and the sky above—for -no less than this seems to be contained -in the expression “The beautiful world”—I -call your attention first to the expression -“form and matter,” which, when applied -to works of intelligence, we must take the -liberty of changing into the expression -“form and content,” for since there is -nothing in works of this kind that manifests -gravity, it can be of no use to say so, -but may be of some injury.</p> - -<p class='c006'>The next is the expression “works of -art,” which sounds rather suspicious in -some of its applications—sounds as if it -was intended to conceal rather than reveal -the worker. Now I take it that the -“works of art” are the works of the intelligence, -and I shall have to classify -them accordingly. Another point with -reference to this might as well be noticed, -and that is that the old expressions -“works of art” and “works of nature” -do not contain, as they were intended to, -all the works that present themselves to -our observation—the works of science, for -example. Besides, we have government, -society, and religion, all of which are undoubtedly -distinct from the “works of -art” no less than from the “works of nature,” -and to tie them up in the same bundle -with either of them, seems to me to be -<span class='pageno' id='Page_181'>181</span>like tying wheat with oats, and therefore -to be avoided, as in the example before our -minds. This seems to be done in the expression -“works of self-conscious intelligence,” -and “works of nature.”</p> - -<p class='c006'>But if we reflect upon the phrases -“works of self-conscious intelligence” -and “works of nature,” it becomes obvious -that there must be some inaccuracy -contained in them; for how can two distinct -subjects have the same predicate? It -would, therefore, perhaps be better to say -“the works of self-conscious intelligence” -and the “<i>products</i> of nature.”</p> - -<p class='c006'>Without further rasping and filing of -old phrases, I call your attention, in the -next place, to the most general term which -we shall have occasion to use—“the -world.”</p> - -<p class='c006'>Under this we comprehend:</p> - -<div class='lg-container-b c011'> - <div class='linegroup'> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'>I. The natural world—Gravity.;</div> - <div class='line'>II. The spiritual world—Self-determination.</div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c010'>I. Under the natural world we comprehend the terrestrial globe, and that part of the -universe which is involved in its processes; these are:</p> - -<div class='lg-container-b c011'> - <div class='linegroup'> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'>(<i>a</i>) (1.) Mechanic=Gravity, } Meteorologic=Electricity.</div> - <div class='line in6'>(2.) Chemic=Affinity, }</div> - <div class='line'>(<i>b</i>) (1.) Organic=Galvanism, } Vital=Sensation.</div> - <div class='line in6'>(2.) Vegetative=Assimilation, }</div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c010'>II. Under “The Spiritual World,” the world of conscious intelligence, we comprehend:</p> - -<div class='lg-container-b c011'> - <div class='linegroup'> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'>(<i>a</i>) The real world=implement, mediation.</div> - <div class='line'>(<i>b</i>) The actual world=self-determination.</div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c010'>(<i>a</i>) The real world contains whatever derives the end of its existence only, from -self-conscious intelligence.</p> - -<div class='lg-container-b c011'> - <div class='linegroup'> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'>(1.) The family=Affection.</div> - <div class='line'>(2.) Society=Ethics, } Mediation.</div> - <div class='line'>(3.) State=Rights, }</div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c010'>(<i>b</i>) The actual world contains whatever derives the end and the <i>means</i> of its existence -from self-conscious intelligence.</p> - -<div class='lg-container-b c011'> - <div class='linegroup'> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'>(1.) Art=Manifestation, }</div> - <div class='line'>(2.) Religion=Revelation, } Self-determination.</div> - <div class='line'>(3.) Philosophy=Definition, }</div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c010'>From this it appears that we have divided -the world into three large slices—the -Natural, the Real, and the Actual—with -gravity for one and self-determination for -the other extreme, and mediation between -them.</p> -<h4 class='c012'>III.</h4> -<p class='c005'>In my last, I gave you some general -terms, and the sense in which I intend -to use them. I also gave you a reason -why I should use them, together with -an illustration. But I gave you no reason -why I used these and no others—or -I did not advance anything to show that -there are <i>objects</i> to which they <i>necessarily -apply</i>. I only take it for granted that -there are some objects presented to your -observation and mine, that gravitate or -weigh something, and others that do not. -To each I have applied as nearly as I could -the ordinary terms. Now this procedure, -although very unphilosophical, I can justify -only by reminding you of the object of -these letters.</p> - -<p class='c006'>If we now listen again to the chant of -the invisible choir,</p> - -<div class='lg-container-b c011'> - <div class='linegroup'> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'>“Thou hast destroyed it,</div> - <div class='line'>The beautiful world,”</div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c010'>it will be obvious that this can refer only -to the world of mediation and self-determination, -to the world of spirit, of self-conscious -intelligence, for the world of -gravitation is not so easily affected. But -how is this—how is it that the world of -self-conscious intelligence is so easily -affected, is so dependent upon the individual -<span class='pageno' id='Page_182'>182</span>man? This can be seen only by examining -its genesis.</p> - -<p class='c006'>In the genesis of Spirit we have three -stages—manifestation, realization, and -actualization. The first of these, upon -which the other two are dependent and -sequent, falls in the individual man. For, -in him it is that Reason manifests itself -before it can realize, or embody itself in -this or that political, social, or moral institution. -And it is not merely necessary -that it should so manifest itself in the individual; -it must also realize itself in -these institutions before it can actualize -itself in Art, Religion, and Philosophy. -For in this actualization it is absolutely -dependent upon the former two stages of -its genesis for a content. From this it -appears that Art <i>shows</i> what Religion -<i>teaches</i>, and what Philosophy <i>comprehends</i>; -or that Art, Religion, and Philosophy -have the same content. Nor is it -difficult to perceive why this world of -spirit or self-conscious intelligence is so -dependent upon the individual man.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Again, in the sphere of manifestation -and reality, this content, the self-conscious -intelligence, is the <i>self-consciousness</i> of an -individual, a nation, or an age. And art, -in the sphere of actuality, is this or that -work of art, this poem, that painting, or -yonder piece of sculpture, with the self-consciousness -of this or that individual, -nation, or age, for its content. Moreover, -the particularity (the individual, nation, or -age) of the content constitutes the individuality -of the work of Art. And not only -this, but this particularity of the <i>self-consciousness</i> -furnishes the very contradiction -itself with the development and solution -of which the work of art is occupied. -For the self-consciousness which constitutes -the content, being the self consciousness -of an individual, a nation, or an age, -instead of being self-conscious intelligence -in its pure universality, contains in that -very particularity the contradiction which, -in the sphere of manifestation and reality, -constitutes the collision, conflict, and solution.<a id='r17' /><a href='#f17' class='c015'><sup>[17]</sup></a></p> - -<p class='c006'>Now, if we look back upon the facts -stated, we have the manifestation, the -realization, and the actualization of self-conscious -intelligence as the three spheres -or stages in the process which evolves and -involves the entire activity of man, both -practical and theoretical. It is also obvious -that the realization of self-conscious -intelligence in the family, society, and the -state, and its actualization in Art, Religion, -and Philosophy, depend in their genesis -upon its manifestation in the individual. -Hence a denial of the possibility of -this manifestation is a denial of the possibility -of the realization and actualization -also.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Now if this denial assume the form of a -conviction in the consciousness of an individual, -a nation, or an age, then there -results a contradiction which involves in -the sweep of its universality the entire -spiritual world of man. For it is the self-consciousness -of that individual, nation, -or age, in direct conflict with itself, not -with this or that particularity of itself, -but with its entire content, in the sphere -of manifestation, with the receptivity for, -the production of, and the aspiration after, -the Beautiful, the Good, and the True, -within the individual himself; in the -sphere of realization with the Family, -with Society, and with the State; and -finally, in the sphere of actuality with -Art, Religion, and Philosophy.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Now this contradiction is precisely -what is presented in the proposition, -“Man cannot know truth.” This you -will remember was, in the history of modern -thought, the result of Kant’s philosophy. -And Kant’s philosophy was the -philosophy of Germany at the time of the -conception of Goethe’s Faust. And Goethe -was the truest poet of Germany, and thus -he sings:</p> - -<div class='lg-container-b c011'> - <div class='linegroup'> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'>“So then I have studied philosophy,</div> - <div class='line'>Jurisprudence and medicine,</div> - <div class='line'>And what is worse, Theology,</div> - <div class='line'>Thoroughly, but, alas! in vain,</div> - <div class='line'>And here I stand with study hoar,</div> - <div class='line'>A fool, and know what I knew before;</div> - <div class='line'>Am called Magister, nay, LL.D.,</div> - </div> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line c003'><span class='pageno' id='Page_183'>183</span>And for ten years, am busily</div> - <div class='line'>Engaged, leading through fen and close,</div> - <div class='line'>My trusting pupils by the nose;</div> - <div class='line'>Yet see that nothing can be known.</div> - <div class='line'>This burns my heart, this, this alone!”</div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c010'>Here, you will perceive in the first sentence -of the poem, as was meet, the fundamental -contradiction, the theme, or the -“argument,” as it is so admirably termed -by critics, is stated in its naked abstractness, -just as Achilles’ wrath is the first -sentence of the Iliad.</p> - -<p class='c006'>This theme, then, is nothing more nor -less than the self-consciousness in contradiction -with itself, in conflict with its own -content. Hence, if the poem is to portray -this theme, this content, in its totality, it -must represent it in three spheres: first, -Manifestation—Faust in conflict with himself; -second, Realization—Faust in conflict -with the Family, Society, and the State; -thirdly, Actualization—Faust in conflict -with Art, Religion, and Philosophy.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Now, my friend, please to examine the -poem once more, reflect closely upon what -has been said, and then tell how much of -the poem can you spare, or how much is -there in the poem as printed, which does -not flow from or develop this theme?</p> -<h4 class='c012'>IV.</h4> -<p class='c005'>In my last, dear friend, I called your attention -to the theme, to the content of the -poem in a general way, stating it in the -very words of the poet himself. To trace -the development of this theme from the -abstract generality into concrete detail is -the task before us.</p> - -<p class='c006'>According to the analysis, we have to -consider, first of all, the sphere of <i>Manifestation</i>.</p> - -<p class='c006'>In this we observe the three-fold relation -which the individual sustains to self-conscious -intelligence, viz: Receptivity for, -and production of, and aspiration for, the -True, the Good, and the Beautiful. Now -if it is true that man cannot know truth, -then it follows that he can neither receive -nor produce the True. For how shall he -know that whatever he may receive and -produce is true, since it is specially denied -that he can know it. This conclusion -as conviction, however, does not affect immediately -the third relation—the aspiration—nor -<span class='pageno' id='Page_184'>184</span>quench its gnawing. And this -is the first form of conflict in the individual. -Let us now open the book and place it before -us.</p> - -<p class='c006'>The historic origin of our theme places -us in a German University, in the professor’s -private studio.</p> - -<p class='c006'>It is well here to remember that it is a -German University, and that the occupant -of the room is a <i>German</i> professor. Also -that it is the received opinion that the -Germans are a <i>theoretical</i> people; by -which we understand that they act from -conviction, and not from instinct. Moreover, -that their conviction is not a mere -holiday affair, to be rehearsed, say on -Sunday, and left in charge of a minister, -paid for the purpose, during the balance -of the week, but an actual, vital fountain -of action. Hence, the conviction of such -a character being given, the acts follow in -logical sequence.</p> - -<p class='c006'>With this remembered, let us now listen -to the self-communion of the occupant of -the room.</p> - -<p class='c006'>In bitter earnest the man has honestly -examined, and sought to possess himself -of the intellectual patrimony of the race. -In poverty, in solitude, in isolation, he -has labored hopefully, earnestly; and now -he casts up his account and finds—what? -“That nothing can be known.” His hair -is gray with more than futile endeavor, -and for ten years his special calling has -been to guide the students to waste their -lives, as he has done his own, in seeking -to accomplish the impossible—to know. -This is the worm that gnaws his heart! -As compensation, he is free from superstition—fears -neither hell nor devil. But -this sweeps with it all fond delusions, all -conceit that he is able to know, and to -teach something for the elevation of mankind. -Nor yet does he possess honor or -wealth—a dog would not lead a life like -this.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Here you will perceive how the first two -relations are negated by the conviction -that man cannot know truth, and how, on -the wings of aspiration, he sallies forth -into the realm of magic, of mysticism, of -subjectivity. For if reason, with its mediation, -is impotent to create an object for -this aspiration, let us see what emotion -and imagination, <i>without</i> mediation, can -do for subjective satisfaction.</p> - -<p class='c006'>And here all is glory, all is freedom! -The imagination seizes the totality of the -universe, and revels in ecstatic visions. -What a spectacle! But, alas! a spectacle -only! How am I to know, to comprehend -the fountain of life, the centre of which -articulates this totality?</p> - -<p class='c006'>See here another generalization: the -practical world as a whole! Ah, that is -my sphere; here I have a firm footing; -here I am master; here I command spirits! -Approach, and obey your master!</p> - -<p class='c016'>“<i>Spirit.</i> Who calls?</p> - -<p class='c017'><i>Faust.</i> Terrific face!</p> - -<p class='c017'><i>Sp.</i> Art thou he that called?</p> - -<p class='c017'> Thou trembling worm!</p> - -<p class='c017'><i>Faust.</i> Yes; I’m he; am Faust, thy peer.</p> - -<p class='c017'><i>Sp.</i> Peer of the Spirit thou comprehendest—not of -me!</p> - -<p class='c017'><i>Faust.</i> What! not of thee! Of whom, then? I, -the image of Deity itself, and not even thy -peer?“</p> - -<p class='c010'>No, indeed, Mr. Faust, thou dost not include -within thyself the totality of the -practical world, but only that part thereof -which thou dost comprehend—only thy -<i>vocation</i>, and hark! “It knocks!”</p> - -<p class='c006'>Oh, death! I see, ’t is my vocation; indeed, -“It is my famulus!”</p> - -<p class='c006'>And this, too, is merely a delusion; this -great mystery of the practical world -shrinks to this dimension—a bread-professorship.</p> - -<p class='c006'>It would seem so; for no theory of the -practical world is possible without the -ability to know truth. As individual, you -may imitate the individual, as the brute -his kind, and thus transmit a craft; but -you cannot seize the practical world in -transparent forms and present it as a harmonious -totality to your fellow-man, for -that would require that these transparent -intellectual forms should possess objective -validity—and this they have not, according -to your conviction. And so it -cannot be helped.</p> - -<p class='c006'>But see what a despicable thing it is to -be a bread-professor!</p> - -<p class='c006'>And is this the mode of existence, this -the reality, the only reality to answer the -aspiration of our soul—the aspiration -<span class='pageno' id='Page_185'>185</span>which sought to seize the universe, to kindle -its inmost recesses with the light of -intelligence, and thus illumine the path of -life? Alas, Reason gave us error—Imagination, -illusion—and the practical world, -the <i>Will</i>, a bread-professorship! Nothing -else? Yes; a bottle of laudanum!</p> - -<p class='c006'>Let us drink, and rest forever! But -hold, is there nothing else, really? No -emotional nature? Hark! what is that? -Easter bells! The recollections of my -youthful faith in a revelation! They must -be examined. We cannot leave yet.</p> - -<p class='c006'>And see what a panorama, what a -strange world lies embedded with those -recollections. Let us see it in all its -varied character and reality, on this Easter -Sunday, for example.</p> -<h4 class='c012'>V.</h4> -<p class='c005'>I have endeavored before to trace the -derivation of the content of the first -scene of the poem, together with its -character, from the abstract theme of the -work. In it we saw that the fundamental -conviction of Faust leaves him naked—leaves -him nothing but a bare avocation, a -mere craft, and the precarious recollections -of his youth (when he believed in -revealed truths) to answer his aspirations. -These recollections arouse his emotions, -and rescue him from nothingness (suicide)—they -fill his soul with a content.</p> - -<p class='c006'>To see this content with all its youthful -charm, we have to retrace our childhood’s -steps before the gates of the city on this -the Easter festival of the year—you and I -being mindful, in the meantime, that the -public festivals of the Church belong to -the so-called external evidences of the -truth of the Christian Religion.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Well, here we are in the suburbs of the -city, and what do we see? First, a set of -journeymen mechanics, eager for beer and -brawls, interspersed with servant girls; -students whose tastes run very much in -the line of strong beer, biting tobacco, -and the well-dressed servant girls aforesaid; -citizens’ daughters, perfectly outraged -at the low taste of the students -who run after the servant girls, “when -they might have the very best of society;” -citizens dissatisfied with the new mayor of -the city—“Taxes increase from day to -day, and nothing is done for the welfare -of the city.” A beggar is not wanting. -Other citizens, who delight to speak of -war and rumors of war in distant countries, -in order to enjoy their own peace at -home with proper contrast; also an “elderly -one,” who thinks that she is quite -able to furnish what the well-dressed citizens’ -daughters wish for—to the great -scandal of the latter, who feel justly indignant -at being addressed in public by -such an old witch (although, “between -ourselves, she did show us our sweethearts -on St. Andrew’s night”); soldiers, who -sing of high-walled fortresses and proud -women to be taken by storm; and, finally, -farmers around the linden tree, dancing a -most furious gallopade—a real Easter -Sunday or Monday “before the gate”—of -any city in Germany, even to this day.</p> - -<p class='c006'>And into this real world, done up in -holiday attire, but not by the poet—into -this paradise, this very heaven of the people, -where great and small fairly yell with -delight—Faust enters, assured that here -he can maintain his rank as a man; “here -I dare to be a man!” And, sure enough, -listen to the welcome:</p> - -<div class='lg-container-b c011'> - <div class='linegroup'> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'>“Nay, Doctor, ’tis indeed too much</div> - <div class='line'>To be with us on such a day,</div> - <div class='line'>To join the throng, the common mass,</div> - <div class='line'>You, you, the great, the learned man!</div> - <div class='line'>Take, then, this beaker, too,” &c.</div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c010'>And here goes—a general health to the -Doctor, to the man who braved the pestilence -for us, and who even now, does not -think it beneath him to join us in our -merry-making—hurrah for the Doctor; -hip, hip, &c.</p> - -<p class='c006'>And is not this something, dear friend? -Just think, with honest Wagner, when he -exclaims, “What emotions must crowd -thy breast, O great man, while listening -to such honors?” and you will also say -with him:</p> - -<div class='lg-container-b c011'> - <div class='linegroup'> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'>“Thrice blest the man who draws such profits rare,</div> - <div class='line'>From talents all his own!”</div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c010'>Why, see! the father shows you to his -son; every one inquires—presses, rushes -to see you! The fiddle itself is hushed, -the dancers stop. Where you go, they fall -into lines; caps and hats fly into the air! -<span class='pageno' id='Page_186'>186</span>But a little more, and they would fall upon -their knees, as if the sacred Host passed -that way!</p> - -<p class='c006'>And is not this great? Is not this the -very goal of human ambition? To Wagner, -dear friend, it is; for the very essence -of an avocation is, and must be, “success -in life.” But how does it stand with the -man whose every aspiration is the True, -the Good, and the Beautiful? Will a -hurrah from one hundred thousand -throats, all in good yelling order, assist -him? <i>No.</i></p> - -<p class='c006'>To Wagner it is immaterial whether he -<i>knows</i> what he <i>needs</i>, provided he sees the -day when the man who has been worse to -the people than the very pestilence itself, -receives public honors; but to Faust, to -the man really in earnest—who is not satisfied -when he has squared life with life, -and obtained zero for a result, or who -does not merely <i>live to make a living</i>, but -demands a rational end for life, and, in -default of that rational end, spurns life -itself—to such a man this whole scene -possesses little significance indeed. It -possesses, however, <i>some</i> significance, even -for him! For if it is indeed true that man -cannot know truth—that the high aspiration -of his soul has no object—then this -scene demonstrates, at least, that Faust -possesses power over the practical world. -If he cannot <i>know</i> the world, he can -at least swallow a considerable portion -of it, and this scene demonstrates that he -can exercise a great deal of choice as to -the parts to be selected; do you see this -conviction?</p> - -<p class='c006'>Do you see this conviction? Do you -see this dog? Consider it well; what is -it, think you? Do you perceive how it -encircles us nearer and nearer—becomes -more and more certain, and, if I mistake -not, a luminous emanation of gold, of -honor, of power, follows in its wake. It -seems to me as if it drew soft magic rings, -as future fetters, round our feet! See, -the circles become smaller and smaller-’tis -almost a certainty—’tis already near; -come, come home with as!</p> - -<p class='c006'>The temptation here spread before us -by the poet, to consider the dog “<i>well</i>,” is -almost irresistible; but all we can say in -this place, dear friend, is that if you will -look upon what is properly called an -<i>avocation</i> in civil society, eliminate from -it all higher ends and motives other than -the simple one of making a living—no -matter with what pomp and circumstance—no -doubt you will readily recognize -the <span class='fss'>POODLE</span>. But we must hasten to the -studio to watch further developments, for -the conflict is not as yet decided. We -are still to examine the possibility of a -divine revelation to man, who cannot know -truth.</p> - -<p class='c006'>And for this purpose our newly acquired -conviction, that we possess power over the -practical world—although not as yet in a -perfectly clear form before us—comfortably -lodged behind the stove, where it -properly belongs, we take down the original -text of the New Testament in order to -realize its meaning, in our own loved -mother tongue. It stands written: “In -the beginning was the Word.” Word? -Word? Never! <i>Meaning</i> it ought to be! -Meaning what? Meaning? No; it is -<i>Power</i>! No; <i>Deed</i>! Word, meaning, -power, deed—which is it? Alas, how am -I to know, unless I can know truth? ’Tis -even so, our youthful recollections dissolve -in mist, into thin air—and nothing is -left us but our newly acquired conviction, -the restlessness of which during this examination -has undoubtedly not escaped -your attention, dear friend. (“Be quiet, -there, behind the stove.” “See here, -poodle, one of us two has to leave this -room!”) What, then, is the whole content -of this conviction, which, so long as there -was the hope of a possibility of a worthy -object for our aspiration, seemed so despicable? -What is it that governs the -practical world of finite motives, the -power that adapts means to ends, regardless -of a final, of an infinite end? Is it -not the Understanding? and although -Reason—in its search after the <i>final end</i>, -with its perfect system of absolute means, -of infinite motives and interests—begets -subjective chimeras, is it not demonstrated -that the understanding possesses objective -validity? Nay, look upon this dog well; -does it not swell into colossal proportions—is -no dog at all, in fact, but the -<span class='pageno' id='Page_187'>187</span>very power that holds absolute sway over -the finite and negative—the understanding -itself—Mephistopheles in proper form?</p> - -<p class='c006'>And who calls this despicable? Is it -not Reason, the power that begets chimeras, -and it alone? And shall we reject -the real, the actual—all in fact that possesses -objective validity—because, forsooth, -the power of subjective chimeras -declares it negative, finite, perishable? -Never. “No fear, dear sir, that I’ll do -this. Precisely what I have promised is -the very aim of all my endeavor. Conceited -fool that I was! I prized myself -too highly”—claimed kin with the infinite. -“I belong only in thy sphere”—the -finite. “The Great Spirit scorns me. -Nature is a sealed book to me; the thread -of thought is severed. Knowing disgusts -me. In the depths of sensuality I’ll -quench the burning passion.”</p> - -<p class='c006'>Here, then, my friend, we arrive at the -final result of the conflict in the first -sphere of our theme—in the sphere of -manifestation—that of the individual. -We started with the conviction <i>that man -cannot know truth</i>. This destroyed our -spiritual endeavors, and reduced our practical -avocation to an absurdity. We -sought refuge in the indefinite—the mysticism -of the past—and were repelled by -its subjectivity. We next examined the -theoretical side of the practical world, and -found this likewise an impossibility and -suicide—a mere blank nothingness—as -the only resource. But here we were -startled by our emotional nature, which -unites us with our fellow-man, and seems -to promise some sort of a bridge over into -the infinite—certainly demands such a -transition. Investigating this, therefore, -with all candor, we found our fellow-men -wonderfully occupied—occupied like the -kitten pursuing its own tail! At the -same time it became apparent that we -might be quite a dog in this kitten dance, -or that the activity of the understanding -possessed objective validity. With this -conviction fairly established, although -still held in utter contempt, we examined -the last resource: the possibility of a -divine revelation of truth to men that cannot -know truth. The result, as the mere -statement of the proposition would indicate, -is negative, and thus the last chance -of obtaining validity for anything except -the activity of the understanding vanishes -utterly. But with this our contempt for -the understanding likewise vanishes. For -whatever our aspiration may say, it has -no object to correspond to it, and is therefore -merely subjective, a hallucination, a -chimera, and the understanding is the -highest attainable for us. Here, therefore, -the subjective conflict ends, for we have -attained to objectivity, and this is the -highest, since there is nothing else that -possesses validity for man. Nor is this -by any means contemptible in itself, -for it is the power over the finite world, -and the net result is: That if you and I, -my friend, have no reason, cannot know -truth, we do have at least a stomach, a -capacity for sensual enjoyment, and an -understanding to administer to the same—to -be its servant. This, at least, is demonstrated -by the kitten dance of the -whole world.</p> - -<h3 class='c001'>INTRODUCTION TO PHILOSOPHY.</h3> -<h4 class='c012'>CHAPTER V. <br /> NECESSITY, CHANCE, FREEDOM.</h4> -<h4 class='c012'>I.</h4> -<p class='c005'>All things are necessitated; each is necessitated -by the totality of conditions; -hence, whatever is must be so, and under -the conditions cannot be otherwise.</p> - -<p class='c006'><i>Remark.</i>—This is the most exhaustive -statement of the position of the “understanding.” -Nothing seems more clear than -this to the thinker who has advanced beyond -the sensuous grade of consciousness -and the stages of Perception.</p> -<h4 class='c012'>II.</h4> -<p class='c005'>But things change—something new begins -and something old ceases; but, still, -in each case, the first principle must apply, -and the new thing—like the old—be -<span class='pageno' id='Page_188'>188</span>so “because necessitated by the totality -of conditions.”</p> - -<p class='c006'><i>Remark.</i>—The reader will notice that -with the conception of <i>change</i> there enters -a second stage of mediation. First, we -have simple mediation in which the ground -and grounded are both real. Secondly, we -have the passage of a potentiality into a -reality, and <i>vice versa</i>. Therefore, with -the consideration of change we have encountered -a contradiction which becomes -apparent upon further attempt to adjust -the idea of necessity to it.</p> -<h4 class='c012'>III.</h4> -<p class='c005'>If the same totality of conditions necessitates -both states of the thing—the new -and the old—it follows that this totality -of conditions is adapted to both, and hence -is indifferent to either, i. e. it allows either, -and hence cannot be said to necessitate one -to the exclusion of the other, for it allows -one to pass over into the other, thereby -demonstrating that it did not restrict or -confine the first to be what it was. Hence -it now appears that chance or contingency -participated in the state of the thing.</p> -<h4 class='c012'>IV.</h4> -<p class='c005'>But the states of the thing belong to the -totality, and hence when the thing changes -the totality also changes, and we are forced -to admit two different totalities as the conditions -of the two different states of the -thing.</p> - -<p class='c006'><i>Remark.</i>—Here we have returned to our -starting-point, and carried back our contradiction -with us. In our zeal to relieve the -thing from the difficulty presented—that of -changing spontaneously—we have posited -duality in the original totality, and pushed -our <i>change</i> into <i>it</i>. But it is the same contradiction -as before, and we must continue -to repeat the same process forever in the -foolish endeavor to go round a circle until -we arrive at its end, or, what is the same, -its beginning.</p> -<h4 class='c012'>V.</h4> -<p class='c005'>If it requires a different totality of conditions -to render possible the change of a -thing from one state to another, then if a -somewhat changes the totality changes. -But there is nothing outside of the totality -to necessitate <i>it</i>, and it therefore must necessitate -<i>itself</i>.</p> -<h4 class='c012'>VI.</h4> -<p class='c005'>Thus necessity and necessitated have -proved in the last analysis to be one. -This, however, is necessity no longer, but -spontaneity, for it begins with itself and -ends with itself. (<i>a</i>) As <i>necessitating</i> it is -the active determiner which of course contains -the <i>potentiality</i> upon which it acts. -Had it no potentiality it could not change. -(<i>b</i>) As <i>necessitated</i> it is the potentiality -<i>plus</i> the limit which its activity has fixed -there. (<i>c</i>) But we have here self-determination, -and thus the <i>existence</i> of the Universal -in and for itself, which is the <i>Ego</i>.</p> - -<p class='c006'><i>Remark.</i>—It cannot be any other mode -of existence than the Ego, for that which -dissolves all determinations and is the universal -potentiality is only <i>one</i> and cannot -be distinguished into <i>modes</i>, for it creates -and destroys these. The ego can abstract -all else and yet abide—it is the <i>actus -purus</i>—its negativity annulling all determinations -and finitudes, while it is directed -full on itself, and is in that very act -complete self-recognition. (See proof of -this in Chapter IV., <span class='fss'>III.</span>, 3.)</p> -<h4 class='c012'>VII.</h4> -<p class='c005'>Thus the doctrine of necessity presupposes -self-determination or Freedom as the -form of the Total, and necessity is only -one side—the realized or <i>determined</i> side—of -the process isolated and regarded in -this state of isolation. Against this side -stands the potentiality which, if isolated -in like manner, is called Chance or Contingency.</p> -<h4 class='c012'>CHAPTER VI. <br /> OF MEDIATION.</h4> -<p class='c005'>The comprehension of mediation lies at -the basis of the distinction of sensuous -knowing from the <i>understanding</i>. The -transition from <i>intuition</i> to <i>abstract thinking</i> -is made at first unconsciously, and for -this reason the one who has begun the process -of mediation handles the “mental -spectres” created by abstraction with the -utmost naïveté, assuming for them absolute -validity in the world at large. It is only -<span class='pageno' id='Page_189'>189</span>the speculative insight that gains mastery -over such abstractions, and sees the Truth. -If this view could be unfolded in a popular -form, it would afford a series of solvents -for the thinker which are applicable to a -great variety of difficult problems. For it -must be remembered that the abstract -categories of the understanding—such as -<i>essence and phenomenon</i>, <i>cause and effect</i>, -<i>substance and attribute</i>, <i>force and manifestation</i>, -<i>matter and form</i>, and the like, give -rise to a series of <i>antinomies</i>, or contradictory -propositions, when applied to the -Totality. From the standpoint of mediation—that -of simple reflection, “common -sense” so called—these antinomies seem -utterly insoluble. The reason of this is -found in the fact that “common sense” -places implicit faith in these categories -(just mentioned), and never rises to the -investigation of them by themselves. To -consider the validity of these categories -by themselves is called a <i>transcendental</i> -procedure, for it passes beyond the ordinary -thinking which uses them without distrust.</p> - -<p class='c006'>The transcendental investigation shows -that the insolubility attributed to these -antinomies arises from the mistake of the -thinker, who supposes the categories he -employs to be exhaustive. Speculative -insight begins with the perception that -they are not exhaustive; that they have by -a species of enchantment cast a spell upon -the mind, under which every thing seems -dual, and the weary seeker after Truth -wanders through a realm of abstractions -each of which assumes the form of a solid -reality—now a giant, and now a dwarf, -and now an impassible river, impenetrable -forest, or thick castle wall defended by -dragons.</p> - -<p class='c006'>The following questions will illustrate -the character of the problems here described:</p> - -<p class='c006'>“Why deal with abstractions—why not -hold fast by the concrete reality?”</p> - -<p class='c006'>(This position combats mediation under -its form of <i>abstraction</i>.)</p> - -<p class='c006'>“Can we not know <i>immediately</i> by intuition -those objects that philosophy strives -in vain to comprehend? in short, are not -God, Freedom and Immortality certain to -us and yet indemonstrable?”</p> - -<p class='c006'>(This position combats mediation as involved -in a <i>system</i> of Philosophy.)</p> - -<p class='c006'>These questions arise only in the mind -that has already gone beyond the doctrine -that it attempts to defend, and hence a self -refutation is easily drawn out of the source -from whence they originate.</p> -<h4 class='c012'>ABSTRACTION.</h4> -<p class='c005'>(<i>a</i>) It will be readily granted that all -knowing involves <i>distinction</i>. We must -distinguish one object from another.</p> - -<p class='c006'>(<i>b</i>) But the process of distinguishing is -a process that involves abstraction. For -in separating this object from that, I contrast -its marks, properties, <i>attributes</i>, with -those of the other. In seizing upon one -characteristic I must isolate it from all -others, and this is nothing more nor less -than abstraction.</p> - -<p class='c006'>(<i>c</i>) Therefore it is absurd to speak -of knowing without abstraction, for -this enters into the simplest act of perception.</p> - -<p class='c006'>(<i>d</i>) Nor is this a subjective defect, an -“impotency of our mental structure,” as -some would be ready to exclaim at this -point. For it is just as evident that <i>things -themselves</i> obtain reality only through -these very characteristics. One thing preserves -its distinctness from another by -means of its various <i>determinations</i>. Without -these determinations all would collapse -into <i>one</i>, nay, even “<i>one</i>” would vanish, -for distinction being completely gone, <i>one-ness</i> -is not possible. This is the “<i>Principle -of Indiscernibles</i>” enunciated by Leibnitz. -Thus distinction is as necessary objectively -as subjectively. The thing <i>abstracts</i> in -order to be <i>real</i>. It defends itself against -what lies without it by specializing itself -into single properties, and thus becoming -in each a mere abstraction.</p> - -<p class='c006'>(<i>e</i>) Moreover, besides this prevalence of -abstraction in the <i>theoretic</i> field, it is still -more remarkable in the <i>practical</i> world. -The business man decries abstractions. He -does not know that every act of the will -is an abstraction, and that it is also preceded -by an abstraction. When he exhorts -you to “leave off abstractions and deal -with concrete realities,” he does this: (1.) -he regards you as he thinks you are; (2.) -<span class='pageno' id='Page_190'>190</span>he conceives you as different, i. e. as a -<i>practical</i> man; (3.) he exhorts you to -change from your real state to the possible -one which he conceives of (through the -process of abstraction). The simplest act -with design—that of going to dinner, for -example—involves abstraction. If I raise -my arm on purpose, I first abstract from -its real position, and think it under another -condition.</p> - -<p class='c006'>(<i>f</i>) But the chief point in all this is to -mark how the mind frees itself from the -untruth of abstraction. For it must be -allowed that all abstractions are false. -The isolation of that which is not sufficient -for its own existence, (though as we have -seen, a necessary constituent of the process -of <i>knowing</i> and of <i>existing</i>,) sets up an -untruth as existent. Therefore the mind -thinks this isolation only as a moment of -a <i>negative unity</i>, (i. e. as an element of a -process). This leads us to the consideration -of mediation in the more general form, -involved by the second question.</p> -<h4 class='c012'>IMMEDIATE KNOWING.</h4> -<p class='c005'>(<i>a</i>) <i>Definition.</i>—“Immediate” is a predicate -applied to what is directly through -itself. The immediateness of anything is -the phase that first presents itself. It is -the undeveloped—an <i>oak</i> taken immediately -is an <i>acorn</i>; man taken immediately -is a child at birth.</p> - -<p class='c006'>(<i>b</i>) <i>Definition.</i>—“Mediation” signifies -the process of realization. A <i>mediate</i> or -<i>mediated</i> somewhat is what it is through -another, or through a process.</p> - -<p class='c006'>(<i>c</i>) <i>Principle.</i>—Any concrete somewhat -exists through its relations to all else in -the universe; hence all concrete somewhats -are <i>mediated</i>. “If a grain of sand -were destroyed the universe would collapse.”</p> - -<p class='c006'>(<i>d</i>) <i>Principle.</i>—An absolutely <i>immediate</i> -somewhat would be a pure nothing, for the -reason that no determination could belong -to it, (for determination is negative, and -hence mediation). Hence all immediateness -must be phenomenal, or the result of -abstraction from the concrete whole, and -this, of course, exhibits the contradiction -of an immediate which is mediated (a “<i>result</i>.”)</p> - -<p class='c006'>(<i>e</i>) The solution of this contradiction is -found in “self-determination,” (as we -have seen in former chapters). The self-determined -is a mediated; it is <i>through -the process</i> of determination; but is likewise -an <i>immediate</i>, for it is its own mediation, -and hence it is the beginning and -end—<i>it begins with its result, and ends in -its beginning</i>, and thus it is a circular process.</p> - -<p class='c006'>This is the great <i>aperçu</i> of all speculative -philosophy.</p> - -<p class='c006'>(<i>f</i>) <i>Definition.</i>—Truth is the form of -the Total, or that which actually exists.</p> - -<p class='c006'>(<i>g</i>) Hence a knowing of Truth must be -a knowing of the self-determined, which is -both immediate and mediate. This is a -process or <i>system</i>. Therefore the knowing -of it cannot be simply <i>immediate</i>, but must -be in the form of a system. Thus the so-called -“immediate intuition” is not a -knowing of truth unless inconsistent with -what it professes.</p> -<h3 class='c014'>THE PHILOSOPHY OF BAADER.</h3> -<p class='c009'>[The following letter from Dr. Franz Hoffmann to the St. Louis Philosophical Society has -been handed us for publication. It gives us pleasure to lay before our readers so able a presentation -of the claims of Baader, and we trust that some of our countrymen will be led by it to -investigate the original sources herein referred to.</p> - -<p class='c017'>We are requested to correct a misstatement that occurs in the first paragraph regarding the -objects of the Philosophical Society. It was not founded for the special purpose of “studying -German Philosophy from Kant to Hegel,” although it has many members who are occupied -chiefly in that field. The Society includes among its members advocates of widely differing -systems, all, however, working in the spirit of the Preamble to the Constitution, which says: -“The object of this Society is to encourage the study and development of Speculative Philosophy; -to foster an application of its results to Art, Science, and Religion; and to establish a -philosophical basis for the professions of Law, Medicine, Divinity, Politics, Education, Art, and -Literature.” We are indebted to Dr. A. Strothotte for the translation of the letter.—<span class='sc'>Editor.</span>]</p> -<p class='c005'><span class='sc'>Würzburg</span>, Dec. 28, 1866.</p> -<p class='c005'><i>Mr. President</i>: In the first number of -Vol. XLIX of the “<i>Zeitschrift für Philosophie</i>,” -published at Halle, in Prussia, -edited by Fichte, Ulrici and Wirth, notice -is taken of a philosophical society, organized -at St. Louis, with the object of pursuing -the study of German philosophy -from Kant to Hegel.</p> - -<p class='c006'>This fact promises a correlation of philosophical -movements between North America -and Germany which is of great importance. -I presume, however, that you have -already been led, or that you will be led, -to go back beyond Kant to the first traces -of German philosophy, and proceed from -Hegel to the present time.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Now, although a thorough and comprehensive -<span class='pageno' id='Page_191'>191</span>view of Hegel’s philosophy is in -the first place to be recommended, yet -the other directions in the movement of -thought must not be lost sight of.</p> - -<p class='c006'>In the Berlin organ of the Philosophical -Society of the Hegelians—<i>Der Gedanke</i>—edited -by Michelet, may be found, as you -perhaps know, an index of the works of -Hegel’s school, by Rosenkranz, whereas on -the other hand the rich literature of the -anti-Hegelian writers is nowhere met with -in any degree of completeness. Many of -them, however, are noticed in Fichte’s -journal, and in the more recent works on -the history of philosophy, particularly in -those of Erdmann, and still more in those -of Ueberweg.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Among the prominent movements in -philosophical thinking, during and after -the time of Hegel, the profound utterances -of a great and genial teacher, Franz Baader, -reach a degree of prominence, even -higher than is admitted by Erdmann and -Ueberweg. This may be readily perceived -by referring to the dissertation on Franz -Baader, by Carl Philipp Fischer, of Erlangen, -and still more by having recourse to -Hamberger, Lutterbeck, and to my own -writings.</p> - -<hr class='c018' /> - -<p class='c006'>I take the liberty of recommending to -you and to the members of the Philosophical -Society of St. Louis, the study of the -works of a philosopher who certainly will -have a great future, although his doctrines -in the progress of time may undergo modifications, -reforms and further developments. -If Hegel had lived longer, the influence -of Baader upon him would have -been greater yet than became visible during -his last years. He has thrown Schelling -out of his pantheism, and pressed him -towards a semi-pantheism, or towards a -deeper theism. The influence of Baader on -the philosophers after Hegel—J. H. Fichte, -Weisse, Sempler, C. Ph. Fischer and others—is -much greater than is commonly admitted. -Whether they agree to it or not, -still it is a fact that Baader is the central -constellation of the movement of the German -spirit, from pantheism to a deeper -ideal-realistic theism. Such a genius, -whatever position may be taken with regard -to him, cannot be left unnoticed, -without running the risk of being left behind -the times. I ask nothing for Baader, -but to follow the maxim—“Try all and -keep the best.” I regret that so great a -distance prevents me from sending your -honorable Society some of my explanatory -writings, which are admitted to be clear -and thorough. It may suffice if I add a -copy of my prospectus; and let me here -remark, that a collection of my writings, in -four large volumes, will be published by -Deichert, in Erlangen. The first volume, -perhaps, will be ready at Easter, 1867.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Erdmann, in his elements of the history -of philosophy, has treated of the doctrines -of Baader, too briefly it is true, but with -more justice than he has used in his former -work on the history of modern philosophy, -and he bears witness that his esteem -of Baader increases more and more. But -he evidently assigns to him a wrong position, -by considering Oken and Baader as -extremes, and Hegel as the mean, while -Oken and Hegel are the extremes, and -Baader the mean. The most important -phenomenon in the school of Hegel is -the <i>Idee der Wissenschaft</i> of Rosenkranz, -(<i>Logik und Metaphysik</i>,) which represents -Hegel in a sense not far distant -from the standpoint of Baader. * * * -* * * * C. H. Fischer’s Characteristics -of Baader’s Theosophy speaks with -high favor of him, but still I have to take -several exceptions. According to my opinion, -all the authors by him referred to, as -Schelling, Hegel, Schleiermacher, Dauber -and Baader, we must call theosophers—or -call none of them so, but <i>philosophers</i>, in -order to avoid misunderstanding. Then I -do not see how Schelling can be called -the “most genial philosopher of modern -times,” and yet Baader the more, yea, the -<i>most</i> profound. Finally, a want of system -must be admitted, but too great importance -is attributed to this. If, however, systematism -could decide here, then not Schelling -but Hegel is the greatest philosopher -of modern times. At all events Fischer’s -Memorial at the Centennial Birthday of -Baader is significant, and is written with -great spirit and warmth. The most important -work of C. Ph. Fischer, bearing on -this subject, is his elements of the system -of philosophy, or <i>Encyclopedia of the -Philosophical Sciences</i>. This is one of -the most important of the works of the -philosophers after Hegel and Baader. The -Athenäum of Froschhammer, (Journal for -Philosophy), appeared only for three years. -It had to cease its publication, because on -the one side the Ultramontanist party agitated -against it, and on the other side it -met with insufficient support. Its reissue -would be desirable, but just now not practicable, -for want of interest on the part of -the public, although it could bear comparison -with any other philosophical journal.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Here let me say, that from Baader there -proceeded a strong impulse toward the revival -of the study of the long-forgotten -spiritual treasures of the mystics and theosophers -of the middle ages, and of the -time of the Reformation. From this impulse -monographs have made their appearance -about Scotus Erigena, Albertus Magnus—at -<span class='pageno' id='Page_192'>192</span>least biographies of them—Thomas -Aquinas, Meister Eckhart, Tauler, Nicholas -Cusanus, Weigel, J. Böhme, Oettinger, etc. -The most important of these I deem to be -<i>Scotus Erigena</i>, by Joh. Huber, Christlieb -and Kaulich; <i>Meister Eckhart</i>, by Bach, -and <i>J. Böhme</i>, by J. Hamberger. Bach on -<i>Eckhart</i> is especially instructive with respect -to the connection between modern -philosophy and the theosophy of Eckhart -and his school, to which also Nicholas -Cusanus belonged.</p> - -<p class='c006'>I presume that it will yet be discovered -that Copernicus was at least acquainted -with Nicholas Cusanus, if he did not even -sympathize with his philosophy. The director -of the observatory at Krakau, Kerlinski, -is at present preparing a monograph -on Copernicus, which will probably -throw light on this subject. Prowe’s -pamphlet on Copernicus, which I have -noticed in Glaser’s journal, refers to the -investigations of Kerlinski, who has recently -published a beautiful edition of the -works of Copernicus. As in the early ages, -first in the Pythagorean school, they approached -the true doctrine of the Universe, -so in the middle ages it appears in the -school of Eckhart, for in a certain sense, -and with some restriction, Nicholas Cusanus -was the precursor of Copernicus.</p> - -<p class='c006'>I beg you, my dear sir, to communicate -this letter to your honorable Society: -should you see fit to publish it in a journal, -you are at liberty to do so.</p> - -<div class='lg-container-l c019'> - <div class='linegroup'> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'>I remain, Sir, with great respect,</div> - <div class='line'>Truly, yours,</div> - <div class='line'><span class='sc'>Dr. Franz Hoffmann</span>,</div> - <div class='line'><i>Prof. of Philos. at the University of Würzburg</i>.</div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<h3 class='c001'>IN THE QUARRY. <br /> By A. C. B.</h3> -<div class='lg-container-b c013'> - <div class='linegroup'> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'>Impatient, stung with pain, and long delay,</div> - <div class='line'>I chid the rough-hewn stone that round me lay;</div> - <div class='line'>I said—“What shelter art thou from the heat?</div> - <div class='line'>What rest art thou for tired and way-worn feet?</div> - <div class='line'>What beauty hast thou for the longing eye?</div> - <div class='line'>Thou nothing hast my need to satisfy!”</div> - <div class='line'>And then the patient stone fit answer made—</div> - <div class='line'>“Most true I am no roof with welcome shade;</div> - <div class='line'>I am no house for rest, or full delight</div> - <div class='line'>Of sculptured beauty for the weary sight;</div> - <div class='line'>Yet am I still, material for all;</div> - <div class='line'>Use me as such—I answer to thy call.</div> - <div class='line'>Nay, tread me only under climbing feet,</div> - <div class='line'>So serve I thee, my destiny complete;</div> - <div class='line'>Mount by me into purer, freer air,</div> - <div class='line'>And find the roof that archeth everywhere;</div> - <div class='line'>So what but failure seems, shall build success;</div> - <div class='line'>For all, as possible, thou dost possess.”</div> - </div> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'>Who by the Universal squares his life,</div> - <div class='line'>Sees but success in all its finite strife;</div> - <div class='line'>In all that is, his truth-enlightened eyes</div> - <div class='line'>Detect the May-be through its thin disguise;</div> - <div class='line'>And in the Absolute’s unclouded sun,</div> - <div class='line'>To him the two already are the one.</div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<div class='chapter'> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_193'>193</span> - <h2 class='c004'>THE JOURNAL OF SPECULATIVE PHILOSOPHY. <br /> Vol. I. 1867. No. 4.</h2> -</div> -<h3 class='c001'>INTRODUCTION TO THE OUTLINES OF A SYSTEM OF NATURAL PHILOSOPHY; <br /> OR, <br /> ON THE IDEA OF SPECULATIVE PHYSICS AND THE INTERNAL ORGANIZATION OF A SYSTEM OF THIS SCIENCE. <br /> 1799. <br /> [Translated from the German of <span class='sc'>Schelling</span>, by <span class='sc'>Tom Davidson</span>.]</h3> -<h4 class='c012'>I. <br /> WHAT WE CALL NATURAL PHILOSOPHY IS A NECESSARY SCIENCE IN THE SYSTEM OF KNOWING.</h4> -<p class='c005'>The Intelligence is productive in two -modes—that is, either blindly and unconsciously, -or freely and consciously;—unconsciously -productive in external intuition, -consciously in the creation of an ideal -world.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Philosophy removes this distinction by -assuming the unconscious activity as originally -identical, and, as it were, sprung -from the same root with the conscious; -this identity is by it <i>directly</i> proved in -the case of an activity at once clearly conscious -and unconscious, which manifests -itself in the productions of genius, <i>indirectly</i>, -outside of consciousness, in the -products of <i>Nature</i>, so far as in them -all, the most complete fusion of the Ideal -with the Real is perceived.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Since philosophy assumes the unconscious, -or, as it may likewise be termed, the -real activity as identical with the conscious -or ideal, its tendency will originally be to -bring back everywhere the real to the -ideal—a process which gives birth to what -is called Transcendental Philosophy. The -regularity displayed in all the movements -of Nature—for example, the sublime geometry -which is exercised in the motions -of the heavenly bodies—is not explained -by saying that Nature is the most perfect -geometry; but conversely, by saying that -the most perfect geometry is what produces -in Nature;—a mode of explanation -whereby the Real itself is transported into -the ideal world, and those motions are -changed into intuitions, which take place -only in ourselves, and to which nothing -outside of us corresponds. Again, the -fact that Nature, wherever it is left to itself, -in every transition from a fluid to a -solid state, produces, of its own accord, as -it were, regular forms—which regularity, -in the higher species of crystallization, -namely, the organic, seems to become purpose -even; or the fact that in the animal -kingdom—that product of the blind forces -of Nature—we see actions arise which are -equal in regularity to those that take place -with consciousness, and even external -works of art, perfect in their kind;—all -<span class='pageno' id='Page_194'>194</span>this is not explained by saying that it is an -unconscious productivity, though in its -origin akin to the conscious, whose mere reflex -we see in Nature, and which, from the -stand-point of the natural view, must appear -as one and the same blind tendency, -which exerts its influence from crystallization -upwards to the highest point of organic -formation (in which, on one side, -through the art-tendency, it returns again -to mere crystallization) only acting upon -different planes.</p> - -<p class='c006'>According to this view, inasmuch as Nature -is only the visible organism of our -understanding, Nature <i>can</i> produce -nothing but what shows regularity and -design, and Nature is <i>compelled</i> to produce -that. But if Nature can produce only the -regular, and produces it from necessity, it -follows that the origin of such regular and -design-evincing products must again be -capable of being proved necessary in Nature, -regarded as self-existent and real, -and in the relation of its forces;—<i>that -therefore, conversely, the Ideal must arise -out of the Real, and admit of explanation -from it</i>.</p> - -<p class='c006'>If, now, it is the task of Transcendental -Philosophy to subordinate the Real to the -Ideal, it is, on the other hand, the task of -Natural Philosophy to explain the Ideal -by the Real. The two sciences are -therefore but one science, whose two -problems are distinguished by the opposite -directions in which they move; moreover, -as the two directions are not only -equally possible, but equally necessary, -the same necessity attaches to both in the -system of knowing.</p> -<h4 class='c012'>II. <br /> SCIENTIFIC CHARACTER OF NATURAL PHILOSOPHY.</h4> -<p class='c005'>Natural Philosophy, as the opposite of -Transcendental Philosophy, is distinguished -from the latter chiefly by the fact -that it posits Nature (not, indeed, in so far -as it is a product, but in so far as it is at -once productive and product) as the self-existent; -whence it may be most briefly -designated as the Spinozism of Physics. -It follows naturally from this that there is -no place in this science for idealistic -methods of explanation, such as Transcendental -Philosophy is fitted to supply, from -the circumstance that for it Nature is -nothing more than the organ of self-consciousness, -and everything in Nature is -necessary merely because it is only -through the medium of such a Nature that -self-consciousness can take place; this -mode of explanation, however, is as meaningless -in the case of physics, and of our -science which occupies the same stand-point -with it, as were the old teleological -modes of explanation, and the introduction -of a universal reference to final causes -into the thereby metamorphosed science -of Nature. For every idealistic mode -of explanation, dragged out of its own -proper sphere and applied to the explanation -of Nature, degenerates into the most -adventurous nonsense, examples of which -are well known. The first maxim of all true -natural science, viz., to explain everything -by the forces of Nature, is therefore accepted -in its widest extent in our science, and -even extended to that region, at the limit -of which all interpretation of Nature has -hitherto been accustomed to stop short; -for example, to those organic phenomena -which seem to pre-suppose an analogy with -reason. For, granted that in the actions -of animals there really is something which -pre-supposes such analogy, on the principle -of realism, nothing further would follow -than that what we call reason is a mere -play of higher and necessarily unknown -natural forces. For, inasmuch as all thinking -is at last reducible to a producing and -reproducing, there is nothing impossible in -the thought that the same activity by which -Nature reproduces itself anew in each successive -phase, is reproductive in thought -through the medium of the organism (very -much in the same manner in which, through -the action and play of light, Nature, which -exists independently of it, is created immaterial, -and, as it were, for a second -time), in which circumstance it is natural -that what forms the limit of our intuitive -faculty, no longer falls within the sphere -of our intuition itself.</p> -<div> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_195'>195</span> - <h4 class='c012'>III. <br /> NATURAL PHILOSOPHY IS SPECULATIVE PHYSICS.</h4> -</div> -<p class='c005'>Our science, as far as we have gone, is -thoroughly and completely realistic; it is -therefore nothing other than Physics, it is -only <i>speculative</i> Physics; in its tendency -it is exactly what the systems of the ancient -physicists were, and what, in more -recent times, the system of the restorer of -Epicurean philosophy is, viz., Lesage’s -Mechanical Physics, by which the speculative -spirit in physics, after a long scientific -sleep, has again, for the first time, been -awakened. It cannot be shown in detail -here (for the proof itself falls within the -sphere of our science), that on the mechanical -or atomistic basis which has been -adopted by Lesage and his most successful -predecessors, the idea of speculative physics -is incapable of realization. For, inasmuch -as the first problem of this science, -that of inquiring into the <i>absolute</i> cause -of motion (without which Nature is not -in itself a finished whole), is absolutely -incapable of a mechanical solution, seeing -that mechanically motion results only -from motion <i>ad infinitum</i>, there remains -for the real construction of speculative -physics only one way open, viz., the -dynamic, which lays down that motion -arises not only from motion, but even from -rest; that, therefore, there is motion in -the rest of Nature, and that all mechanical -motion is the merely secondary and derivative -motion of that which is solely primitive -and original, and which wells forth -from the very first factors in the construction -of a nature generally (the fundamental -forces).</p> - -<p class='c006'>In hereby making clear the points of -difference between our undertaking and all -those of a similar nature that have hitherto -been attempted, we have at the same time -shown the difference between speculative -physics and so-called empirical physics; -a difference which in the main may be reduced -to this, that the former occupies -itself solely and entirely with the original -causes of motion in nature, that is, solely -with the dynamical phenomena; the latter, -on the contrary, inasmuch as it never -reaches a final source of motion in nature, -deals only with the secondary motions, -and even with the original ones only as -mechanical (and therefore likewise capable -of mathematical construction). The -former, in fact, aims generally at the inner -spring-work and what is <i>non-objective</i> in -Nature; the latter, on the contrary, only at -the <i>surface</i> of Nature, and what is objective, -and, so to speak, <i>outside</i> in it.</p> -<h4 class='c012'>IV. <br /> ON THE POSSIBILITY OF SPECULATIVE PHYSICS.</h4> -<p class='c005'>Inasmuch as our inquiry is directed not -so much upon the phenomena of Nature as -upon their final grounds, and our business -is not so much to deduce the latter from -the former as the former from the latter, -our task is simply this: to erect a science -of Nature in the strictest sense of the term; -and in order to find out whether speculative -physics are possible, we must know -what belongs to the possibility of a doctrine -of Nature viewed as science.</p> - -<p class='c006'>(<i>a</i>) The idea of knowing is here taken -in its strictest sense, and then it is easy to -see that, in this acceptation of the term, we -can be said to know objects only when they -are such that we see the principles of their -possibility, for without this insight my -whole knowledge of an object, e. g. of a -machine, with whose construction I am -unacquainted, is a mere seeing, that is, a -mere conviction of its existence, whereas -the inventor of the machine has the most -perfect knowledge of it, because he is, as -it were, the soul of the work, and because -it preëxisted in his head before he exhibited -it as a reality.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Now, it would certainly be impossible to -obtain a glance into the internal construction -of Nature, if an invasion of Nature -were not possible through freedom. It is -true that Nature acts openly and freely; -its acts however are never isolated, but -performed under a concurrence of a host of -causes, which must first be excluded if we -are to obtain a pure result. Nature must -therefore be compelled to act under certain -definite conditions, which either do not exist -in it at all, or else exist only as modified by -others.—Such an invasion of Nature we -call an experiment. Every experiment is -a question put to Nature, to which she is -<span class='pageno' id='Page_196'>196</span>compelled to give a reply. But every question -contains an implicit <i>à priori</i> judgment; -every experiment that is an experiment, -is a prophecy; experimenting itself -is a production of phenomena. The first -step, therefore, towards science, at least -in the domain of physics, is taken when -we ourselves begin to produce the objects -of that science.</p> - -<p class='c006'>(<i>b</i>) We <i>know</i> only the self-produced; -knowing, therefore, in the <i>strictest</i> acceptation -of the term, is a <i>pure</i> knowing <i>à priori</i>. -Construction by means of experiment, is, -after all, an absolute self-production of the -phenomena. There is no question but -that much in the science of Nature may -be known comparatively <i>à priori</i>; as, for -example, in the theory of the phenomena -of electricity, magnetism, and even light. -There is such a simple law recurring in -every phenomenon that the results of every -experiment may be told beforehand; here -my knowing follows immediately from a -known law, without the intervention of -any particular experience. But whence -then does the law itself come to me? The -assertion is, that all phenomena are correlated -in one absolute and necessary law, -from which they can all be deduced; in -short, that in natural science all that we -know, we know absolutely <i>à priori</i>. Now, -that experiment never leads to such a -knowing, is plainly manifest, from the fact -that it can never get beyond the forces of -Nature, of which itself makes use as means.</p> - -<p class='c006'>As the final causes of natural phenomena -are themselves not phenomenal, we -must either give up all attempt ever to arrive -at a knowledge of them, or else we -must altogether put them into Nature, endow -Nature with them. But now, that -which we put into Nature has no other -value than that of a pre-supposition (hypothesis), -and the science founded thereon -must be equally hypothetical with the principle -itself. This it would be possible to -avoid only in one case, viz., if that pre-supposition -itself were involuntary, and -as necessary as Nature itself. Assuming, -for example, what must be assumed, -that the sum of phenomena is not a -mere world, but of necessity a Nature—that -is, that this whole is not merely a -product, but at the same time productive, it -follows that in this whole we can never arrive -at absolute identity, inasmuch as this -would bring about an absolute transition -of Nature, in as far as it is productive, -into Nature as product, that is, it would -produce absolute rest; such wavering of -Nature, therefore, between productivity -and product, will, of necessity, appear -as a universal duplicity of principles, -whereby Nature is maintained in continual -activity, and prevented from exhausting -itself in its product; and universal -duality as the principle of explanation -of Nature will be as necessary as the idea -of Nature itself.</p> - -<p class='c006'>This absolute hypothesis must carry its -necessity within itself, but it must, besides -this, be brought to empiric proof; for, inasmuch -as all the phenomena of Nature -cannot be deduced from this hypothesis as -long as there is in the whole system of -Nature a single phenomenon which is not -necessary according to that principle, or -which contradicts it, the hypothesis is -thereby at once shown to be false, and -from that moment ceases to have validity -as an hypothesis.</p> - -<p class='c006'>By this deduction of all natural phenomena -from an absolute hypothesis, our -knowing is changed into a construction of -Nature itself, that is, into a science of Nature -<i>à priori</i>. If, therefore, such deduction -itself is possible, a thing which can -be proved only by the fact, then also a -doctrine of Nature is possible as a science -of Nature; a system of purely speculative -physics is possible, which was the point -to be proved.</p> - -<p class='c006'><i>Remark.</i>—There would be no necessity -for this remark, if the confusion which -still prevails in regard to ideas perspicuous -enough in themselves did not render -some explanation with regard to them requisite.</p> - -<p class='c006'>The assertion that natural science must -be able to deduce all its principles <i>à priori</i>, -is in a measure understood to mean that -natural science must dispense with all experience, -and, without any intervention of -experience, be able to spin all its principles -out of itself—an affirmation so absurd -that the very objections to it deserve pity. -<span class='pageno' id='Page_197'>197</span><i>Not only do we know this or that through -experience, but we originally know nothing -at all except through experience, and by -means of experience</i>, and in this sense the -whole of our knowledge consists of the -data of experience. These data become -<i>à priori</i> principles when we become conscious -of them as necessary, and thus -every datum, be its import what it may, -may be raised to that dignity, inasmuch -as the distinction between <i>à priori</i> and <i>à -posteriori</i> data is not at all, as many people -may have imagined, one originally cleaving -to the data themselves, but is a distinction -made solely <i>with respect to our knowing</i>, -and the <i>kind</i> of our knowledge of these -data, so that every datum which is merely -historical for me—i. e. a datum of experience—becomes, -notwithstanding, an <i>à priori</i> -principle as soon as I arrive, whether -directly or indirectly, at insight into its -internal necessity. Now, however, it must -in all cases be possible to recognize every -natural phenomenon as absolutely necessary; -for, if there is no chance in nature -at all, there can likewise be no original -phenomenon of Nature fortuitous; on -the contrary, for the very reason that Nature -is a system, there must be a necessary -connection for everything that happens -or comes to pass in it, in some principle -embracing the whole of Nature. Insight -into this internal necessity of all natural -phenomena becomes, of course, still more -complete, as soon as we reflect that there is -no real system which is not, at the same -time, an organic whole. For if, in an organic -whole, all things mutually bear and -support each other, then this organization -must have existed as a whole previous to -its parts—the whole could not have arisen -from the parts, but the parts must have -arisen out of the whole. <i>It is not, therefore</i>, -<span class='fss'>WE KNOW</span> <i>Nature, but Nature</i> <span class='fss'>IS</span>, <i>à -priori</i>, that is, everything individual in -it is predetermined by the whole or by the -idea of a Nature generally. But if Nature -<i>is</i> <i>à priori</i>, then it must be possible to <i>recognize</i> -it <i>as</i> something that is <i>à priori</i>, -and this is really the meaning of our affirmation.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Such a science, like every other, does -not deal with the hypothetical, or the -merely probable, but depends upon the -evident and the certain. Now, we may indeed -be quite certain that every natural -phenomenon, through whatever number of -intermediate links, stands in connection -with the last conditions of a Nature; the -intermediate links themselves, however, -may be unknown to us, and still lying hidden -in the depths of Nature. To find out -these links is the work of experimental research. -Speculative physics have nothing -to do but to show the need of these intermediate -links;<a id='r18' /><a href='#f18' class='c015'><sup>[18]</sup></a> but as every new discovery -throws us back upon a new ignorance, and -while one knot is being loosed a new one -is being tied, it is conceivable that the -complete discovery of all the intermediate -links in the chain of Nature, and therefore -also our science itself, is an infinite -task. Nothing, however, has more impeded -the infinite progress of this science -than the arbitrariness of the fictions -by which the want of profound insight -was so long doomed to be concealed. -This fragmentary nature of our knowledge -becomes apparent only when we separate -what is merely hypothetical from the pure -out-come of science, and thereupon set -out to collect the fragments of the great -whole of Nature again into a system. It -is, therefore, conceivable that speculative -physics (the soul of real experiment) has, -in all time, been the mother of all great -discoveries in Nature.</p> -<h4 class='c012'>V. <br /> OF A SYSTEM OF SPECULATIVE PHYSICS GENERALLY.</h4> -<p class='c005'>Hitherto the idea of speculative physics -has been deduced and developed; it is -another business to show how this idea -must be realized and actually carried out.</p> - -<p class='c006'>The author, for this purpose, would at -<span class='pageno' id='Page_198'>198</span>once refer to his Outlines of a System of -Natural Philosophy, if he had not reason to -suspect that many even of those who might -consider those Outlines worthy of their attention, -would come to it with certain preconceived -ideas, which he has not presupposed, -and which he does not desire to -have pre-supposed.</p> - -<p class='c006'>The causes which may render an insight -into the tendency of those Outlines difficult, -are (exclusive of defects of style and arrangement) -mainly, the following:</p> - -<p class='c006'>1. That many persons, misled perhaps -by the word <i>Natural Philosophy</i>, expect to -find transcendental deductions from natural -phenomena, such as, in different fragments, -exist elsewhere, and will regard -natural philosophy generally as a part of -transcendental philosophy, whereas it forms -a science altogether peculiar, altogether -different from, and independent of, every -other.</p> - -<p class='c006'>2. That the notions of dynamical physics -hitherto diffused, are very different from, -and partially at variance with, those which -the author lays down. I do not speak of -the modes of representation which several -persons, whose business is really mere experiment, -have figured to themselves in -this connection; for example, where they -suppose it to be a dynamical explanation, -when they reject a galvanic fluid, and accept -instead of it certain vibrations in the -metals; for these persons, as soon as they -observe that they have understood nothing -of the matter, will revert, of their own -accord, to their previous representations, -which were made for them. I speak of -the modes of representation which have -been put into philosophic heads by Kant, -and which may be mainly reduced to this: -that we see in matter nothing but the occupation -of space in definite degrees, in -all difference of matter, therefore, only -mere difference of occupation of space (i. -e. density,) in all dynamic (qualitative) -changes, only mere changes in the relation -of the repelling and attracting forces. -Now, according to this mode of representation, -all the phenomena of Nature are -looked at only on their lowest plane, and -the dynamical physics of these philosophers -begin precisely at the point where -they ought properly to leave off. It is indeed -certain that the last result of every -dynamical process is a changed degree of -occupation of space—that is, a changed -density; inasmuch, now, as the dynamical -process of Nature is one, and -the individual dynamical processes are -only shreds of the one fundamental process—even -magnetic and electric phenomena, -viewed from this stand-point, -will be, not actions of particular materials, -but changes in the constitution of matter -itself; and as this depends upon the mutual -action of the fundamental forces, at -last, changes in the relation of the fundamental -forces themselves. We do not -indeed deny that these phenomena at the -extreme limit of their manifestation are -changes in the relation of the principles -themselves; we only deny that these -changes are nothing more; on the contrary, -we are convinced that this so-called dynamical -principle is too superficial and defective -a basis of explanation for all Nature’s -phenomena, to reach the real depth and -manifoldness of natural phenomena, inasmuch -as by means of it, in point of fact, no -qualitative change of matter <i>as</i> such is constructible -(for change of density is only the -external phenomenon of a higher change). -To adduce proof of this assertion is not -incumbent upon us, till, from the opposite -side, that principle of explanation is shown -by actual fact to exhaust Nature, and the -great chasm is filled up between that kind -of dynamical philosophy and the empirical -attainments of physics—as, for example, -in regard to the very different kinds -of effects exhibited by simple substances—a -thing which, let us say at once, we consider -to be impossible.</p> - -<p class='c006'>We may therefore be permitted, in the -room of the hitherto prevailing dynamic -mode of representation, to place our own -without further remark—a procedure which -will no doubt clearly show wherein the -latter differs from the former, and by which -of the two the Doctrine of Nature may -most certainly be raised to a Science of -Nature.</p> -<div> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_199'>199</span> - <h4 class='c012'>VI. <br /> INTERNAL ORGANIZATION OF THE SYSTEM OF SPECULATIVE PHYSICS.</h4> -</div> -<h4 class='c012'>1.</h4> -<p class='c005'>An inquiry into the Principle of speculative -physics must be preceded by inquiries -into the distinction between the -speculative and the empirical generally. -This depends mainly upon the conviction -that between empiricism and theory there -is such a complete opposition that there -can be no third thing in which the two -may be united; that, therefore, the idea -of Experimental Science is a mongrel idea, -which implies no connected thought, or -rather, which cannot be thought at all. -What is pure empiricism is not science, -and, <i>vice versâ</i>, what is science is not empiricism. -This is not said for the purpose -of at all depreciating empiricism, but -is meant to exhibit it in its true and -proper light. Pure empiricism, be its object -what it may, is history (the absolute -opposite of theory), and, conversely, history -alone is empiricism.<a id='r19' /><a href='#f19' class='c015'><sup>[19]</sup></a></p> - -<p class='c006'>Physics, as empiricism, are nothing but -a collection of facts, of accounts of what -has been observed—what has happened -under natural or artificial circumstances. -In what we at present designate physics, -empiricism and science run riot together, -and for that very reason they are neither -one thing nor another.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Our aim, in view of this object, is to -separate science and empiricism as soul -and body, and by admitting nothing into -science which is not susceptible of an <i>à priori</i> -construction, to strip empiricism of all -theory, and restore it to its original nakedness.</p> - -<p class='c006'>The opposition between empiricism and -science rests therefore upon this: that the -former regards its object in <i>being</i>—as something -already prepared and accomplished; -science, on the other hand, views its object -in <i>becoming</i>, and as something that -has yet to be accomplished. As science -cannot set out from anything that is a -product—that is, a thing—it must set out -from the unconditioned; the first inquiry -of speculative physics is that which relates -to the unconditioned in natural science.</p> -<h4 class='c012'>2.</h4> -<p class='c005'>As this inquiry is, in the Outlines, deduced -from the highest principles, the -following may be regarded as merely an -illustration of those inquiries:</p> - -<p class='c006'>Inasmuch as everything of which we can -say that it <i>is</i>, is of a conditioned nature, -it is only <i>being itself</i> that can be the unconditioned. -But seeing that individual -being, as a conditioned, can be thought -only as a particular limitation of the productive -activity (the sole and last substrate -of all reality) <i>being itself</i> is -<i>thought</i> as the same productive activity -<i>in its unlimitedness</i>. For the philosophy -of nature, therefore, nature is originally -only productivity, and from this as its -principle science must set out.</p> - -<p class='c006'>So long as we know the totality of objects -only as the sum of being, this totality -is a mere world—that is, a mere product -for us. It would certainly be impossible -in the science of Nature to rise to a higher -idea than that of being, if all permanence -(which is thought in the idea of being) -were not deceptive, and really a continuous -and uniform reproduction.</p> - -<p class='c006'>In so far as we regard the totality of -objects not merely as a product, but at -the same time necessarily as productive, it -rises into <i>Nature</i> for us, and this <i>identity -of the product and the productivity</i>, and -this alone is implied, even in the ordinary -use of language by the idea of Nature.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Nature as a mere product (<i>natura naturata</i>) -we call Nature as object (with this -alone all empiricism deals). Nature as -productivity (<i>natura naturans</i>) we call -Nature as subject (with this alone all theory -deals).</p> - -<p class='c006'>As the object is never unconditioned, -something absolutely non-objective must -<span class='pageno' id='Page_200'>200</span>be put into Nature; this absolutely non-objective -is nothing else but that original -productivity of Nature. In the ordinary -view it vanishes in the product: conversely -in the philosophic view the product vanishes -in the productivity.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Such identity of the product and the -productivity in the original conception of -Nature is expressed by the ordinary views -of Nature as a whole, which is at once the -cause and the effect of itself, and is in its -duplicity (which goes through all phenomena) -again identical. Furthermore, with -this idea the identity of the Real and the -Ideal agrees—an identity which is thought -in the idea of every product of Nature, -and in view of which alone the nature of -art can be placed in opposition thereto. -For whereas in art the idea precedes the -act—the execution—in Nature idea and -act are rather contemporary and one; the -idea passes immediately over into the -product, and cannot be separated from it.</p> - -<p class='c006'>This identity is cancelled by the empirical -view, which sees in Nature only the -effect (although on account of the continual -wandering of empiricism into the -field of science, we have, even in purely -empirical physics, maxims which presuppose -an idea of Nature as subject—as, for -example, Nature chooses the shortest way; -Nature is sparing in causes and lavish in -effects); it is also cancelled by speculation, -which looks only at <i>cause</i> in Nature.</p> -<h4 class='c012'>3.</h4> -<p class='c005'>We can say of Nature as object that it -<i>is</i>, not of Nature as subject; for this is -being or productivity.</p> - -<p class='c006'>This absolute productivity must pass -over into an empirical nature. In the idea -of absolute productivity, is the thought of -an ideal infinity. The ideal infinity must -become an empirical one.</p> - -<p class='c006'>But empirical infinity is an infinite becoming. -Every infinite series is but the -exhibition of an intellectual or ideal infinity. -The original infinite series (the ideal -of all infinite series) is that wherein our -intellectual infinity evolves itself, viz., -<i>Time</i>. The activity which sustains this -series is the same as that which sustains -our consciousness; consciousness, however, -is <i>continuous</i>. Time, therefore, as the -evolution of that activity, cannot be produced -by composition. Now, as all other infinite -series are only imitations of the -originally infinite series, Time, no infinite -series can be otherwise than continuous. In -the original evolution the retarding agent -(without which the evolution would take -place with infinite rapidity) is nothing but -<i>original reflection</i>; the necessity of reflection -upon our acting in every organic -phase (continued duplicity in identity) is -the secret stroke of art whereby our being -receives <i>permanence</i>.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Absolute continuity, therefore, exists -only for the intuition, but not for the -<i>reflection</i>. Intuition and reflection are -opposed to each other. The infinite series -is continuous for the productive <i>intuition</i>—interrupted -and composite for the -<i>reflection</i>. It is on this <i>contradiction</i> between -intuition and reflection that those -sophisms are based, in which the possibility -of all motion is contested, and which -are solved at every successive step by the -productive activity. To the intuition, for -example, the action of gravity takes place -with perfect continuity; to the reflection, -by fits and starts. Hence all the laws of -mechanics, whereby that which is properly -only the object of the productive intuition -becomes an object of reflection, are really -only laws for the reflection. Hence those -fictitious notions of mechanics, the atoms -of time in which gravitation acts, the law -that the moment of solicitation is infinitely -small, because otherwise an infinite rapidity -would be produced in finite time, &c., -&c. Hence, finally, the assertion that in -mathematics no infinite series can really -be represented as continuous, but only as -advancing by fits and starts.</p> - -<p class='c006'>The whole of this inquiry into the opposition -between reflection and the productivity -of the intuition, serves only to -enable us to deduce the general statement -that in <i>all</i> productivity, and in productivity -alone, there is absolute <i>continuity</i>—a -statement of importance in the consideration -of the whole of Nature; inasmuch, -for example, as the law that in Nature -there is no leap, that there is a continuity -of forms in it, &c., is confined to the original -<span class='pageno' id='Page_201'>201</span>productivity of Nature, in which -certainly there must be continuity, whereas -from the stand-point of reflection all -things must appear <i>disconnected</i> and <i>without</i> -continuity—placed beside each other, -as it were; we must therefore admit that -both parties are right; those, namely, who -assert continuity in Nature—for example, -in organic Nature—no less than those who -deny it, when we take into consideration -the difference of their respective stand-points; -and we thereby, at the same time, -arrive at the distinction between dynamical -and atomistic physics; for, as will -soon become apparent, the two are distinguished -only by the fact that the former -occupies the stand-point of <i>intuition</i>, the -latter that of <i>reflection</i>.</p> -<h4 class='c012'>4.</h4> -<p class='c005'>These general principles being presupposed, -we shall be able, with more certainty, -to reach our aim, and make an -exposition of the internal organism of our -system.</p> - -<p class='c006'>(<i>a</i>) In the idea of becoming, we think -the idea of gradualness. But an absolute -productivity will exhibit itself empirically -as a becoming with infinite rapidity, -whereby there results nothing real for the -intuition.</p> - -<p class='c006'>(Inasmuch as Nature must in reality be -thought as engaged in infinite evolution, -the permanence, the resting of the products -of Nature—the organic ones, for -instance—is not to be viewed as an absolute -resting, but only as an evolution proceeding -with infinitely small rapidity or -with infinite tardiness. But hitherto evolution, -with even finite rapidity, not to -speak of infinitely small rapidity, has not -been constructed.)</p> - -<p class='c006'>(<i>b</i>) That the evolution of Nature should -take place with finite rapidity, and thus -become an object of intuition, is not -thinkable without an original limitation -(a being limited) of the productivity.</p> - -<p class='c006'>(<i>c</i>) But if Nature be absolute productivity, -then the ground of this limitation may -lie <i>outside of it</i>. Nature is originally <i>only</i> -productivity; there can, therefore, be -nothing determined in this productivity -(all determination is negation) and so -products can never be reached by it. If -products are to be reached, the productivity -must pass from being undetermined to -being determined—that is, it must, as -pure productivity, be cancelled. If now -the ground of determination of productivity -lay outside of Nature, Nature would not -be originally absolutely productivity. Determination, -that is, negation, must certainly -come into Nature; but this negation, -viewed from a higher stand-point, must -again be positivity.</p> - -<p class='c006'>(<i>d</i>) But if the ground of this limitation -lies <i>within Nature itself</i>, then Nature -ceases to be <i>pure identity</i>. (Nature, in -so far as it is only productivity, is pure -identity, and there is in it absolutely -nothing capable of being distinguished. -In order that anything may be distinguished -in it, its identity must be cancelled—Nature -must not be identity, but -duplicity.)</p> - -<p class='c006'>Nature must originally be an object to -itself; this change of the pure subject -into a self-object is unthinkable without -an original sundering in Nature itself.</p> - -<p class='c006'>This duplicity cannot therefore be further -deduced physically; for, as the condition -of all Nature generally, it is the -principle of all physical explanation, and -all physical explanation can only have for -its aim the reduction of all the antitheses -which appear in Nature to that original -antithesis in the heart of Nature, -<i>which does not, however, itself appear</i>. -Why is there no original phenomenon of -Nature without this duplicity, if in Nature -all things are not mutually subject and object -to each other <i>ad infinitum</i>, and Nature -even, in its origin, at once product and -productive?</p> - -<p class='c006'>(<i>e</i>) If Nature is originally duplicity, -there must be opposite tendencies even in -the original productivity of Nature. (The -positive tendency must be opposed by -another, which is, as it were, anti-productive—retarding -production; not as the -contradictory, but as the negative—the -really opposite of the former.) It is only -then that, in spite of its being limited, -there is no passivity in Nature, when even -<span class='pageno' id='Page_202'>202</span>that which limits it is again positive, and -its original duplicity is a contest of really -opposite tendencies.</p> - -<p class='c006'>(<i>f</i>) In order to arrive at a product, -these opposite tendencies must concur. -But as they are supposed equal, (for there -is no ground for supposing them unequal,) -wherever they meet they will annihilate -each other; the product is therefore = 0, -and once more no product is reached.</p> - -<p class='c006'>This inevitable, though hitherto not very -closely remarked contradiction (namely, -that a product can arise only through the -concurrence of opposite tendencies, while -at the same time these opposite tendencies -mutually annihilate each other) is capable -of being solved only in the following manner: -There is absolutely no <i>subsistence</i> of -a product thinkable, <i>without a continual -process of being reproduced</i>. The product -must be thought as <i>annihilated at every -step</i>, and at <i>every step reproduced anew</i>. -We do not really see the subsisting of a -product, but only the continual process of -being reproduced.</p> - -<p class='c006'>(It is of course very conceivable how the -series 1-1+1-1... on to infinity is -thought as equal neither to 1 nor to 0. -The reason however why this series is -thought as =1/2 lies deeper. There is one -absolute magnitude (=1), which, though -continually annihilated in this series, continually -recurs, and by this recurrence -produces, not itself, but the mean between -itself and nothing.—Nature, as object, is -that which comes to pass in such an infinite -series, and is = a fraction of the -original unit, to which the never cancelled -duplicity supplies the numerator.)</p> - -<p class='c006'>(<i>g</i>) If the subsistence of the product is -a continual process of being reproduced, -then all <i>persistence</i> also is only in nature -as <i>object</i>; in nature as <i>subject</i> there is -only infinite <i>activity</i>.</p> - -<p class='c006'>The product is originally nothing but a -mere point, a mere limit, and it is only -from Nature’s combatting against this -point that it is, so to speak, raised to a -full sphere—to a product. (Suppose, for -illustration, a stream; it is <i>pure identity</i>; -where it meets resistance, there is formed -a whirlpool; this whirlpool is not anything -abiding, but something that every moment -vanishes, and every moment springs up -anew.—In Nature there is originally nothing -distinguishable; all products are, so to -speak, still in solution, and invisible in the -universal productivity. It is only when -retarding points are given, that they are -thrown off and advance out of the universal -identity.—At every such point the -stream breaks (the productivity is annihilated), -but at every step there comes a -new wave which fills up the sphere).</p> - -<p class='c006'>The philosophy of nature has not to explain -the productive (side) of nature; for if -it does not posit this as in nature originally, -it will never bring it into nature. It has -to explain the permanent. But the fact -<i>that</i> anything should become permanent in -nature, can itself receive its explanation -only from that contest of nature <i>against -all permanence</i>. The products would appear -as mere points, if nature did not give -them extension and depth by its own pressure, -and the products themselves would -last only an instant, if nature did not at -every instant crowd up against them.</p> - -<p class='c006'>(<i>h</i>) This seeming product, which is reproduced -at every step, cannot be a -really infinite product; for otherwise productivity -would actually exhaust itself in it; -in like manner it cannot be a finite product; -for it is the force of the whole of -nature that pours itself into it. It must -therefore be at once infinite and finite; it -must be only seemingly finite, but in infinite -development.</p> - -<hr class='c018' /> - -<p class='c006'>The point at which this product originally -comes in, is the universal point of -retardation in nature, the point from which -all evolution in nature begins. But in -nature, as it is evolved, this point lies not -here or there, but everywhere where there -is a product.</p> - -<p class='c006'>This product is a finite one, but as the -infinite productivity of nature concentrates -itself in it, it must have a tendency to infinite -development.—And thus gradually, -and through all the foregoing intermediate -links, we have arrived at the construction -of that infinite becoming—the empirical -exhibition of an ideal infinity.</p> - -<p class='c006'><span class='pageno' id='Page_203'>203</span>We behold in what is called nature (i. e. -in this assemblage of individual objects), -not the primal product itself, but its evolution, -(hence the point of retardation cannot -remain <i>one</i>.)—By what means <i>this</i> evolution -is again absolutely retarded, which -must happen, if we are to arrive at a fixed -product, has not yet been explained.</p> - -<p class='c006'>But through this product an original infinity -evolves itself; this infinity can never -decrease. The magnitude which evolves -itself in an infinite series, is still infinite -at every point of the line; and thus nature -will be still infinite at every point of the -evolution.</p> - -<p class='c006'>There is only one original point of retardation -to productivity; but any number -of points of retardation to evolution -may be thought. Every such point is -marked for us by a product; but at every -point of the evolution nature is still infinite; -therefore nature is still infinite in -every product, and in every one lies the -germ of a universe.<a id='r20' /><a href='#f20' class='c015'><sup>[20]</sup></a></p> - -<p class='c006'>(The question, by what means the infinite -tendency is retarded in the product, is -still unanswered. The original retardation -in the productivity of nature, explains -only why the evolution takes place with -finite rapidity, but not why it takes place -with infinitely small rapidity.)</p> - -<p class='c006'>(<i>i</i>) The product evolves itself <i>ad infinitum</i>. -In this evolution, therefore, nothing -can happen, which is not already a product -(synthesis), and which might not divide -up into new factors, each of these -again having its factors.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Thus even by an analysis pursued <i>ad -infinitum</i>, we could never arrive at anything -in nature which should be absolutely -simple.</p> - -<p class='c006'>(<i>k</i>) If however we <i>suppose</i> the evolution -as completed, (although it <i>never</i> can be -completed,) still the evolution could not -stop at anything which was a product, but -only at the purely productive.</p> - -<p class='c006'>The question arises, whether a final, -such that it is no longer a substrate, -but the cause of all substrate, no -longer a product, but absolutely productive—we -will not say <i>occurs</i>, for that is -unthinkable, but—can at least be proved -in experience.</p> - -<p class='c006'>(<i>l</i>) Inasmuch as it bears the character -of the unconditioned, it would have to exhibit -itself as something, which, although -itself not in space, is still the principle of -all occupation of space.</p> - -<p class='c006'>What occupies space is not matter, for -matter is the occupied space itself. That, -therefore, which occupies space cannot be -matter. Only that which is, is in space, -not <i>being itself</i>.</p> - -<p class='c006'>It is self-evident that no positive external -intuition is possible of that which <i>is</i> -not in space. It would therefore have to -be capable of being exhibited negatively. -This happens in the following manner:</p> - -<p class='c006'>That which is in space, is, as such, -mechanically and chemically destructible. -That which is not destructible either mechanically -or chemically must therefore -lie outside of space. But it is only the -final ground of all quality that has anything -of this nature; for although one quality -may be extinguished by another, this -can nevertheless only happen in a third -product, C, for the formation and maintenance -of which A and B, (the opposite -factors of C,) must continue to act.</p> - -<p class='c006'>But this indestructible (somewhat), -which is thinkable only as pure intensity, -is, as the cause of all substrate, at the -same time the principle of divisibility <i>ad -infinitum</i>. (A body, divided <i>ad infinitum</i> -still occupies space in the same degree -with its smallest part.)</p> - -<p class='c006'>That, therefore, which is purely productive -without being a product, is but the -final ground of quality. But every quality -is a determinate one, whereas productivity -is originally indeterminate. In the qualities, -therefore, productivity appears as already -retarded, and as it appears most -original in them generally, it appears in -them most originally retarded.</p> - -<p class='c006'><span class='pageno' id='Page_204'>204</span>This is the point at which our mode of -conception diverges from those of the currently -so-called dynamical physics.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Our assertion, briefly stated, is this:—If -the infinite evolution of nature were -completed (which is impossible) it would -separate up into original and simple actions, -or, if we may so express ourselves, -into simple productivities. Our assertion -therefore is not: There are in nature such -simple actions; but only, they are the -ideal grounds of the explanation of quality. -These <i>entelechies</i> cannot actually be -shown, they do not <i>exist</i>; we have not -therefore to explain here anything more -than is asserted, namely, that such original -productivities must be <i>thought</i> as the -grounds of the explanation of all quality. -This proof is as follows:</p> - -<p class='c006'>The affirmation that nothing which <i>is</i> in -space, that is, that nothing at all is -mechanically simple, requires no demonstration. -That, therefore, which is in reality -simple, cannot be thought as in space, -but must be thought as outside of space. -But outside of space only pure intensity is -thought. This idea of pure intensity is -expressed by the idea of action. It is not -the product of this action that is simple, -but the action itself abstracted from the -product, and it must be simple in order that -the product may be divisible <i>ad infinitum</i>. -For although the parts are near vanishing, -the intensity must still remain. And this -pure intensity is what, even in infinite divisibility, -sustains the substrate.</p> - -<p class='c006'>If, therefore, the assertion that affirms -something simple as the basis of the explanation -of quality is atomistic, then our -philosophy is atomistic. But, inasmuch -as it places the simple in something that -is only productive without being a product, -it is <i>dynamical atomistics</i>.</p> - -<p class='c006'>This much is clear, that if we admit an -absolute division of nature into its factors, -the last (thing) that remains over, must be -something, which absolutely defies all division, -that is, the simple. But the simple -can be thought only as dynamical, -and as such it is not in space at all (it -designates only what is thought as altogether -outside of space-occupation); there -is therefore no intuition of it possible, except -through its product. In like manner -there is no measure for it given but its -product. For to pure thought it is the -mere <i>origin</i> of the product (as the point is -only the origin of the line), in one word -pure <i>entelechy</i>. But that which is known, -not in itself, but only in its product, is -known altogether empirically. If, therefore, -every original quality, as quality -(not as substrate, in which quality -merely inheres), must be thought as pure -intensity, pure action, then qualities generally -are only the absolutely empirical in -our knowledge of nature, of which no construction -is possible, and in respect to -which there remains nothing of the philosophy -of nature, save the proof that they -are the absolute limit of its construction.</p> - -<p class='c006'>The question in reference to the ground -of quality posits the evolution of nature -as completed, that is, it posits something -merely thought, and therefore can be answered -only by an ideal ground of explanation. -This question adopts the stand-point -of reflection (on the product), whereas -genuine dynamics always remain on the -stand-point of intuition.</p> - -<p class='c006'>It must here, however, be at once remarked -that if the ground of the explanation -of quality is conceived as an ideal -one, the question only regards the explanations -of quality, in so far as it is thought -as absolute. There is no question, for instance, -of quality, in so far as it shows -itself in the dynamical process. For quality, -so far as it is relative, there is certainly -a [not merely ideal, but actually -real] ground of explanation and determination; -quality in that case is determined -by its opposite, with which it is placed in -conflict, and this antithesis is itself again -determined by a higher antithesis, and so -on back into infinity; so that, if this universal -organization could dissolve itself, all -matter likewise would sink back into dynamical -inactivity, that is, into absolute -defect of quality. (Quality is a higher -power of matter, to which the latter elevates -itself by reciprocity.) It is demonstrated -in the sequel that the dynamical -process is a limited one for each individual -sphere; because it is only thereby that -definite points of relation for the determination -<span class='pageno' id='Page_205'>205</span>of quality arise. This limitation -of the dynamical process, that is, the -proper determination of quality, takes -place by means of no force other than that -by which the evolution is universally and -absolutely limited, and this negative element -is the only one in things that is indivisible, -and mastered by nothing.—The -absolute relativity of all quality may be -shown from the electric relation of bodies, -inasmuch as the same body that is positive -with one is negative with another, -and conversely. But we might now -henceforth abide by the statement (which -is also laid down in the Outlines): <i>All quality -is electricity</i>, and conversely, <i>the electricity -of a body is also its quality</i>, (for all -difference of quality is equal to difference -of electricity, and all [chemical] quality is -reducible to electricity).—Everything that -is sensible for us (sensible in the narrower -acceptation of the term, as colors, -taste, &c.), is doubtless sensible to us -only <i>through</i> electricity, and the only <i>immediately</i> -sensible (element) would then -be electricity,<a id='r21' /><a href='#f21' class='c015'><sup>[21]</sup></a> a conclusion to which the -universal duality of every sense leads us -independently, inasmuch as in Nature there -is properly only one duality. In galvanism, -sensibility, as a reagent, reduces all quality -of bodies, for which it is a reagent to -an original difference. All bodies which, -in a chain, at all affect the sense of taste -or that of sight, be their differences ever -so great, are either alkaline or acid, excite -a negative or positive shock, and here they -always appear as active in a higher than -the merely chemical power.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Quality considered as absolute is inconstructible, -because quality generally is not -anything absolute, and there is no other -quality at all, save that which bodies -show mutually in relation to each other, -and all quantity is something in virtue of -which the body is, so to speak, raised -above itself.</p> - -<p class='c006'>All hitherto attempted construction of -quality reduces itself to the two attempts; -to express qualities by figures, and so, for -each original quality, to assume a particular -figure in Nature; or else, to express -quality by analytical formulæ (in which -the forces of attraction and repulsion supply -the negative and positive magnitudes.) -To convince oneself of the futility of this -attempt, the shortest method is to appeal -to the emptiness of the explanations to -which it gives rise. Hence we limit ourselves -here to the single remark, that -through the construction of all matter out -of the two fundamental forces, different -degrees of density may indeed be constructed, -but certainly never different qualities -as qualities; for although all dynamical -(qualitative) changes appear, in their -lowest stage, as changes of the fundamental -forces, yet we see at that stage -only the product of the process—not the -<i>process itself</i>—and those changes are <i>what -require explanation</i>, and the ground of explanation -must therefore certainly be -sought in something higher.</p> - -<p class='c006'>The only possible ground of explanation -for quality is an ideal one; because this -ground itself presupposes something -purely ideal. If any one inquire into the -final ground of quality, he transports himself -back to the starting point of Nature. -But where is this starting point? and does -not all quality consist in this, that matter -is prevented by the general concatenation -from reverting into its originality?</p> - -<p class='c006'>From the point at which reflection and -intuition separate, a separation, be it remarked, -which is possible only on the hypothesis -of the evolutions being complete, -physics divide into the two opposite directions, -into which the two systems, the -atomistic and the dynamical, have been -divided.</p> - -<p class='c006'>The <i>dynamical</i> system <i>denies</i> the absolute -evolution of Nature, and passes from -Nature as synthesis (i. e. Nature as subject) -to Nature as evolution (i. e. Nature -as object); the atomistic system passes -from the evolution, as the original, to Nature -as synthesis; the former passes from -the stand-point of intuition to that of reflection; -the latter from the stand-point -of reflection to that of intuition.</p> - -<p class='c006'><span class='pageno' id='Page_206'>206</span>Both directions are equally possible. If -the analysis only is right, then the synthesis -must be capable of being found -again through analysis, just as the analysis -in its turn can be found through the -synthesis. But whether the analysis is -correct can be tested only by the fact that -we can pass from it again to the synthesis. -The synthesis therefore is, and continues, -the absolutely presupposed.</p> - -<p class='c006'>The problems of the one system turn -exactly round into those of the other; -that which, in atomical physics, is the -cause of the <i>composition</i> of Nature is, in -dynamical physics, <i>that which checks evolution</i>. -The former explains the composition -of Nature by the force of cohesion, -whereby, however, no continuity is ever -introduced into it; the latter, on the contrary, -explains cohesion by the continuity -of evolution. (All cohesion is originally -only in the productivity.)</p> - -<p class='c006'><i>Both systems set out from something -purely ideal.</i> Absolute synthesis is as -much purely <i>ideal</i> as absolute analysis. -The Real occurs only in Nature as <i>product</i>; -but Nature is not product, either when -thought as absolute involution or as absolute -evolution; product is what is contained -between the two extremes.</p> - -<p class='c006'>The first problem for both systems is to -construct the product—i. e. that wherein -those opposites become real. Both reckon -with purely <i>ideal</i> magnitudes so long as -the product is not constructed: it is only -in the <i>directions</i> in which they accomplish -this that they are opposed. Both systems, -as far as they have to deal with merely -ideal factors, have the same value, and the -one forms the test of the other.—That -which is concealed in the depths of productive -Nature must be reflected as product -in Nature as Nature, and thus the -atomistic system must be the continual -reflex of the dynamical. In the Outlines, -of the two directions, that of atomistic -physics has been chosen intentionally. It -will contribute not a little to the understanding -of our science, if we here demonstrate -in the <i>productivity</i> what was -there shown in the <i>product</i>.</p> - -<p class='c006'>(<i>m</i>) <i>In the pure productivity of Nature -there is absolutely nothing distinguishable -except duality; it is only productivity -dualized in itself that gives the product.</i></p> - -<p class='c006'>Inasmuch as the absolute productivity -arrives only at producing <i>per se</i>, not at the -producing of a determinate [somewhat], -the tendency of Nature, in virtue of which -product is arrived at, must be the <i>negative</i> -of productivity.</p> - -<p class='c006'>In Nature, in so far as it is real, there -can no more be productivity without a -product, than a product without productivity. -Nature can only approximate to the -two extremes, and it must be demonstrated -<i>that</i> it approximates to both.</p> - -<p class='c006'>(α) <i>Pure productivity passes originally -into formlessness.</i></p> - -<p class='c006'>Wherever Nature loses itself in formlessness, -productivity exhausts itself in it. -(This is what we express when we talk of -a becoming latent.)—Conversely, wherever -the form predominates—i. e. wherever the -productivity is <i>limited</i>—the productivity -manifests itself; it appears, not as a (representable) -product, but <i>as</i> productivity, -although passing over into one product, as -in the phenomena of heat. (The idea of -imponderables is only a symbolic one.)</p> - -<p class='c006'>(β) <i>If productivity passes into formlessness, -then, objectively considered, it is the -absolutely formless.</i></p> - -<p class='c006'>The boldness of the atomical system -has been very imperfectly comprehended. -The idea which prevails in it, of an absolutely -formless [somewhat] everywhere -incapable of manifestation as determinate -matter, is nothing other than the symbol -of nature approximating to productivity.—The -nearer to productivity the nearer to -formlessness.</p> - -<p class='c006'>(γ) <i>Productivity appears as productivity -only when limits are set to it.</i></p> - -<p class='c006'>That which is everywhere and in everything, -is, for that very reason, nowhere.—Productivity -is fixed only by limitation.—<i>Electricity -exists</i> only at that point at -which limits are given, and it is only a -poverty of conception that would look for -anything else in its phenomena beyond the -phenomena of (limited) productivity.—The -condition of <i>light</i> is an antithesis -in the electric and galvanic, as well as in -the chemical, process, and even light -which comes to us without our coöperation -<span class='pageno' id='Page_207'>207</span>(the phenomenon of productivity -exerted all round by the sun) presupposes -that antithesis.<a id='r22' /><a href='#f22' class='c015'><sup>[22]</sup></a></p> - -<p class='c006'>(δ) <i>It is only limited productivity that -gives the start to product.</i> (The explanation -of product must begin at the origination -of the fixed point at which the start -is made.) <i>The condition of all formation -is duality.</i> (This is the more profound -signification that lies in Kant’s -construction of matter from opposite -forces.)</p> - -<p class='c006'>Electrical phenomena are the general -scheme for the construction of matter universally.</p> - -<p class='c006'>(ε) <i>In Nature, neither pure productivity -nor pure product can ever be arrived at.</i></p> - -<p class='c006'>The former is the negation of all product, -the latter the negation of all productivity.</p> - -<p class='c006'>(Approximation to the former is the absolutely -decomposible, to the latter the absolutely -indecomposible, of the atomistics. -The former cannot be thought without, at -the same time, being the absolutely incomposible, -the latter without, at the same -time, being the absolutely composible.)</p> - -<p class='c006'>Nature will therefore originally be the -middle [somewhat] arising out of the two, -and thus we arrive at the idea of <i>a productivity -engaged in a transition into product, -or of a product that is productive ad -infinitum</i>. We hold to the latter definition.</p> - -<p class='c006'>The idea of the product (the fixed) and -that of the productive (the free) are mutually -opposed.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Seeing that what we have postulated is -already product, it can, if it is productive -at all, be productive only in a <i>determinate -way</i>. But determined productivity is -(active) <i>formation</i>. That third [somewhat] -must therefore be <i>in the state of -formation</i>.</p> - -<p class='c006'>But the product is supposed to be productive -<i>ad infinitum</i> (that transition is -never absolutely to take place); it will -therefore at every stage be productive in a -determinate way; the productivity will -remain, but not the product.</p> - -<p class='c006'>(The question might arise how a transition -from form to form is possible at all -here, when <i>no</i> form is fixed. Still, that -<i>momentary</i> forms should be reached, has -already been rendered possible by the fact -that the evolution cannot take place with -infinite rapidity, in which case, therefore, -for every step at least, the form is certainly -a determinate one.)</p> - -<p class='c006'>The product will appear as in <i>infinite -metamorphosis</i>.</p> - -<p class='c006'>(From the stand-point of reflection, as -continually on the leap from fluid to solid, -without ever reaching, however, the required -form.—Organizations that do not -live in the grosser element, at least live on -the deep ground of the aërial sea—many -pass over, by metamorphoses, from one -element into another; and what does the -animal, whose vital functions almost all -consist in contractions, appear to be, other -than such a leap?)</p> - -<p class='c006'>The metamorphosis will not possibly -take place <i>without rule</i>. For it must remain -within the original antithesis, and -is thereby confined within limits.<a id='r23' /><a href='#f23' class='c015'><sup>[23]</sup></a></p> - -<p class='c006'>This accordance with rule will express -itself solely by an internal relationship of -forms—a relationship which again is not -thinkable without an archetype which lies -at the basis of all, and which, with however -manifold divergences, they nevertheless -all express.</p> - -<p class='c006'>But even with such a product, we have -not that which we were in quest of—a -product which, while productive <i>ad infinitum</i>, -remains <i>the same</i>. That this product -should remain the same seems unthinkable, -because it is not thinkable without -an absolute checking or suppression of the -productivity.—The product would have to -be checked, as the productivity was -checked, for it is still productive—checked -<span class='pageno' id='Page_208'>208</span>by dualization and limitation resulting -therefrom. But it must at the same time -be explained how the productive product -can be checked at each individual stage of -its formation, without its ceasing to be -productive, or how, <i>by dualization itself -the permanence of the productivity is secured</i>.</p> - -<p class='c006'>In this way we have brought the reader -as far as the problem of the fourth section -of the Outlines, and we leave him to -find in it for himself the solution along -with the corollaries which it brings up.—Meanwhile, -we shall endeavor to indicate -how the deduced product would necessarily -appear from the stand-point of <i>reflection</i>.</p> - -<p class='c006'>The product is the synthesis wherein -the opposite extremes meet, which on the -one side are designated by the absolutely -decomposible—on the other as indecomposible.—How -continuity comes into the -absolute discontinuity with which he sets -out, the atomic philosopher endeavors to -explain by means of cohesive, plastic -power, &c., &c. In vain, for continuity is -only <i>productivity</i> itself.</p> - -<p class='c006'>The manifoldness of the forms which -such product assumes in its metamorphosis -was explained by the difference in the -stages of development, so that, parallel -with every step of development, goes a -particular form. The atomic philosopher -posits in nature certain fundamental forms, -and as in it everything strives after form, -and every thing which does form itself has -also its <i>particular</i> form, so the fundamental -forms must be conceded, but certainly -only as indicated in nature, not as -actually existent.</p> - -<p class='c006'>From the standpoint of reflection, the -becoming of this product must appear as -a continual striving of the original actions -toward the production of a determinate -form, and a continual recancelling of those -forms.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Thus, the product would not be product -of a simple tendency; it would be only -the visible expression of an internal proportion, -of an internal equipoise of the -original actions, which neither reduce -themselves mutually to absolute formlessness, -nor yet, by reason of the universal -conflict, allow the production of a determinate -and fixed form.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Hitherto (so long as we have had to deal -merely with ideal factors), there have -been opposite directions of investigation -possible; from this point, inasmuch as we -have to pursue a real product in its developments, -there is only one direction.</p> - -<p class='c006'>(η) By the unavoidable separation of -productivity into opposite directions at -every single step of development the product -itself is separated into <i>individual -products</i>, by which, however, for that very -reason, only different stages of development -are marked.</p> - -<p class='c006'>That this is so may be shown <i>either</i> in -the products themselves, as is done when -we compare them with each other with -regard to their form, and search out a continuity -of formation—an idea which, from -the fact that continuity is never in the -<i>products</i> (for the reflection), but always -only in the <i>productivity</i>, can never be perfectly -realized.</p> - -<p class='c006'>In order to find continuity in productivity, -the successive steps of the <i>transition -of productivity into product</i> must be -more clearly exhibited than they have -hitherto been. From the fact that the -productivity gets <i>limited</i>, (<i>v. supra</i>,) we -have in the first instance only the start for -a product, only the fixed point for the productivity -generally. It must be shown -<i>how</i> the productivity gradually materializes -itself, and changes itself into products -ever more and more fixed, so as to produce -a <i>dynamical scale in nature</i>, and this is -the real subject of the fundamental problem -of the whole system.</p> - -<p class='c006'>In advance, the following may serve to -throw light on the subject. In the first -place, a dualization of the productivity is -demanded; the cause through which this -dualization is effected remains in the first -instance altogether outside of the investigation. -By dualization a change of contraction -and expansion is perhaps conditioned. -This change is not something -in matter, but is <i>matter itself</i>, and the first -stage of productivity passing over into -product. <i>Product</i> cannot be reached except -through a stoppage of this change, -that is, through a third [somewhat] which -<span class='pageno' id='Page_209'>209</span><i>fixes</i> that change itself, and thus matter in -its lowest stage—in the <i>first</i> power—would -be an object of intuition; that change -would be seen in rest, or in equipoise, just -as, conversely again, by the suppression of -the third [somewhat] matter might be -raised to a higher power. Now it might -be possible that those products just deduced -stood upon <i>quite different degrees</i> of -materiality, or of <i>that transition</i>, or that -those different degrees were more or less -<i>distinguishable</i> in the one than in the other; -that is, a dynamical scale of those products -would thereby have to be demonstrated.</p> - -<p class='c006'>(<i>o</i>) In the <i>solution</i> of the problem itself, -we shall continue, in the first instance, in -the direction hitherto taken, without knowing -where it may lead us.</p> - -<p class='c006'>There are individual products brought -into nature; but in these products productivity, -<i>as</i> productivity, is held to be still -always distinguishable. Productivity has -not yet absolutely passed over into product. -The subsistence of the product is -supposed to be a continual self-reproduction.</p> - -<p class='c006'>The problem arises: By what is this -absolute transition—exhaustion of the productivity -in the product—prevented? or -by what does its subsistence become a continual -self-reproduction?</p> - -<p class='c006'>It is absolutely unthinkable how the -activity that everywhere tends towards a -product is prevented from going over into -it <i>entirely</i>, unless that transition is prevented -<i>by external influences</i>, and the product, -if it is to subsist, is compelled at -every step to reproduce itself <i>anew</i>.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Up to this point, however, no trace has -been discovered of a cause opposed to the -product (to organic nature). Such a cause -can, therefore, at present, only be postulated. -We thought we saw the whole of -nature exhaust itself in that product, and -it is only here that we remark, that in order -to comprehend such product, <i>something -else</i> must be presupposed, and a new antithesis -must come into nature.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Nature has hitherto been for us absolute -<i>identity</i> in duplicity; here we come upon -an antithesis that must again take place -<i>within</i> the other. This antithesis must be -capable of being shown in the deduced -product itself, if it is capable of being -deduced at all.</p> - -<p class='c006'>The deduced product is an activity <i>directed -outwards</i>; this cannot be distinguished -as such without an activity <i>directed -inwards from without</i>, (i. e. directed -upon itself,) and this activity, on the -other hand, cannot be thought, unless it is -<i>pressed back</i> (reflected) from without.</p> - -<p class='c006'><i>In the opposite directions, which arise -through this antithesis lies the principle -for the construction of all the phenomena -of life</i>—on the suppression of those opposite -directions, life remains over, either as -<i>absolute activity</i> or <i>absolute receptivity</i>, -since it is possible only as the perfect -<i>inter-determination</i> of receptivity and activity.</p> - -<p class='c006'>We therefore refer the reader to the Outlines -themselves, and merely call his attention -to the higher stage of construction -which we have here reached.</p> - -<p class='c006'>We have above (<i>g</i>) explained the origin -of a <i>product generally</i> by a struggle of nature -against the original point of check, -whereby this point is raised to a full -sphere, and thus receives permanence. -Here, since we are deducing a struggle of -<i>external</i> nature, not against a mere point, -but against a <i>product</i>, the first construction -rises for us to a <i>second</i> power, as it -were,—we have a double product, and thus -it might well be shown in the sequel that -organic nature generally is only the higher -power of the inorganic, and that it rises -above the latter for the very reason that in -it even that which was already product -<i>again</i> becomes product.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Since the product, which we have deduced -as the most primary, drives us to a -side of nature that is opposed to it, it is -clear that our construction of the origin of -a product generally is <i>incomplete</i>, and that -we have not yet, by a long way, satisfied -our problem; (the problem of all science is -to construct the origin of a fixed product.)</p> - -<p class='c006'>A productive product, as such, can subsist -only under the influence of external -forces, because it is only thereby that productivity -is interrupted—prevented from -being extinguished in the product. For -these external forces there must now again -<span class='pageno' id='Page_210'>210</span>be a particular sphere; those forces must -lie in a world which is <i>not productive</i>. But -that world, for this very reason, would be a -world fixed and undetermined in every respect. -The problem—how a product in -nature is arrived at—has therefore received -a one-sided solution by all that has -preceded. “The product is checked by -dualization of the productivity at every -single step of development.” But this is -true only for the <i>productive</i> product, -whereas we are here treating of a <i>non-productive</i> -product.</p> - -<p class='c006'>The contradiction which meets us here -can be solved only by the finding of a -<i>general</i> expression for the construction of -a <i>product generally</i>, (regardless of whether -it is productive or has ceased to be so).</p> - -<hr class='c018' /> - -<p class='c006'>Since the existence of a world, that -is <i>not productive</i> (inorganic) is in the -first instance merely postulated, in order -to explain the productive one, so its conditions -can be laid down only hypothetically, -and as we do not in the first instance -know it at all except from its opposition -to the productive, those conditions -likewise must be deduced only from this -opposition. From this it is of course clear,—what -is also referred to in the Outlines—that -this second section, as well as the first, -contains throughout merely hypothetical -truth, since neither organic nor inorganic -nature is explained without our having reduced -the construction of the two to a common -expression, which, however, is possible -only through the synthetic part.—This must -lead to the highest and most general principles -for the construction of a <i>nature</i> generally; -hence we must refer the reader who is -concerned about a knowledge of our system -altogether to that part. The hypothetical -deduction of an inorganic world and its -conditions we may pass over here all the -more readily, that they are sufficiently detailed -in the Outlines, and hasten to the -most general and the highest problem of -our science.</p> - -<hr class='c018' /> - -<p class='c006'>The most general problem of speculative -physics may now be expressed thus: <i>To -reduce the construction of organic and inorganic -products to a common expression</i>.</p> - -<p class='c006'>We can state only the main principles of -such a solution, and of these, for the most -part, only such as have not been completely -educed in the Outlines themselves—(3d -principal section.)</p> -<h4 class='c012'>A.</h4> -<p class='c005'>Here at the very beginning we lay down -the principle that <i>as the organic product is -the product in the second power, the</i> <span class='fss'>ORGANIC</span> -<i>construction of the product</i> must be, <i>at -least, the sensuous image of the</i> <span class='fss'>ORIGINAL</span> -<i>construction of all product</i>.</p> - -<p class='c006'>(<i>a</i>) In order that the productivity may -be at all fixed at a point, <i>limits must be -given</i>. Since <i>limits</i> are the condition of -the first phenomenon, the cause whereby -limits are produced <i>cannot be a phenomenon</i>, -it goes back into the interior of nature, -or of each respective product.</p> - -<p class='c006'>In organic nature, this limitation of productivity -is shown by what we call sensibility, -which must be thought as the -first condition of the construction of the -organic product.</p> - -<p class='c006'>(<i>b</i>) The immediate effect of confined productivity -is a <i>change of contraction and -expansion</i> in the matter already given, and -as we now know, constructed, as it were, -for the second time.</p> - -<p class='c006'>(<i>c</i>) Where this change stops, productivity -passes over into product, and where -it is again restored, product passes over -into productivity. For since the product -must remain productive <i>ad infinitum</i>, -<i>those three stages of productivity</i> must be -<i>capable of being</i> <span class='fss'>DISTINGUISHED</span> in the product; -the absolute transition of the latter -into product is the cancelling of product -itself.</p> - -<p class='c006'>(<i>d</i>) As these three stages are distinguishable -in the <i>individual</i>, so they must be -distinguishable in <i>organic nature throughout</i>, -and the scale of organizations is nothing -more than a scale of <i>productivity itself</i>. -(Productivity exhausts itself to degree <i>c</i> in -the product <i>A</i>, and can begin with the product -<i>B</i> only at the point where it left off -with <i>A</i>, that is, with degree <i>d</i>, and so on -downwards to the <i>vanishing</i> of all productivity. -If we knew the absolute <i>degree</i> of -productivity of the <i>earth</i> for example—a -degree which is determined by the earth’s -<span class='pageno' id='Page_211'>211</span>relation to the sun—the limit of organization -upon it might be thereby more accurately -determined than by incomplete experience—which -must be incomplete for -this reason, if for no other, that the catastrophes -of nature have, beyond doubt, -swallowed the last links of the chain. A -true system of Natural History, which has -for its object not the <i>products</i> [of nature] -but <i>nature itself</i>, follows up the one productivity -that battles, so to speak, against -freedom, through all its windings and -turnings, to the point at which it is at last -compelled to perish in the product.)</p> - -<p class='c006'>It is upon this dynamical scale, in the -individual, as well as in the whole of organic -nature, that the construction of all -organic phenomena rests.</p> -<h4 class='c012'>B.<a id='r24' /><a href='#f24' class='c015'><sup>[24]</sup></a></h4> -<p class='c005'>These principles, stated universally, lead -to the following fundamental principles of -a universal theory of nature.</p> - -<p class='c006'>(<i>a</i>) Productivity must be <i>primarily</i> limited. -Since <i>outside</i> of limited productivity -there is [only] <i>pure identity</i> the limitation -cannot be established by a difference -already existing, and therefore must -be so by an <i>opposition</i> arising in <i>productivity -itself</i>—an opposition to which we -here revert as a first postulate.<a id='r25' /><a href='#f25' class='c015'><sup>[25]</sup></a></p> - -<p class='c006'>(<i>b</i>) This difference thought <i>purely</i> is the -first condition of all [natural] activity, the -productivity is attracted and repelled<a id='r26' /><a href='#f26' class='c015'><sup>[26]</sup></a> between -opposites (the primary limits); in -this change of expansion and contraction -there arises necessarily a common element, -but one which exists only <i>in change</i>. If -it is to exist <i>outside</i> of change, then the -<i>change itself</i> must become fixed. The <i>active</i> -in change is the productivity sundered -within itself.</p> - -<p class='c006'>(<i>c</i>) It is asked:</p> - -<p class='c006'>(α) By what means such change can be -fixed at all; it cannot be fixed by anything -that is contained as a link in change itself, -and must therefore be fixed by a <i>tertium -quid</i>.</p> - -<p class='c006'>(β) But this <i>tertium quid</i> must be able -to <i>invade</i> that original antithesis; but <i>outside</i> -of that antithesis nothing <i>is</i><a id='r27' /><a href='#f27' class='c015'><sup>[27]</sup></a>; it (that -<i>tertium quid</i>) must therefore be primarily -contained in it, as something which is -mediated by the antithesis, and by which -in turn the antithesis is mediated; for -otherwise there is no ground why it should -be primarily contained in that antithesis.</p> - -<p class='c006'>The antithesis is dissolution of identity. -But nature is <i>primarily</i> identity. <i>In</i> that -antithesis, therefore, there must again be -a struggle after identity. This struggle is -immediately conditioned <i>through</i> the antithesis; -for if there was no antithesis, -there would be identity, absolute rest, and -therefore no <i>struggle</i> toward identity. If, -on the other hand, there were not identity -in the antithesis, the antithesis itself -could not endure.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Identity produced out of difference is -indifference; that <i>tertium quid</i> is therefore -a <i>struggle towards indifference</i>—a -struggle which is conditioned, by the difference -itself, and by which it, on the -other hand, is conditioned.—(The difference -must not be looked upon as a difference -at all, and is nothing for the intuition, -except through a third, which sustains it—to -which change itself adheres.)</p> - -<p class='c006'>This <i>tertium quid</i>, therefore, is all that -is substrate in that primal change. But -substrate posits change as much as change -posits substrate; and there is here no -first and no second; but difference and -struggle towards indifference, are, as far -time is concerned, one and contemporary.</p> - -<p class='c006'><i>Axiom.</i> No identity in Nature is absolute, -but all is only indifference.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Since that <i>tertium quid</i> itself <i>presupposes</i> -the primary antithesis, the antithesis -<span class='pageno' id='Page_212'>212</span>itself cannot be <i>absolutely</i> removed by it; -<i>the condition of the continuance of that -tertium quid</i> [of that third activity, or of -Nature] <i>is the perpetual continuance of the -antithesis</i>, just as, conversely, <i>the continuance -of the antithesis is conditioned by the -continuance of the tertium quid</i>.</p> - -<p class='c006'>But how, then, shall the antithesis be -thought as continuing?</p> - -<p class='c006'>We have one primary antithesis, between -the limits of which all Nature must lie; if -we assume that the factors of this antithesis -can really pass over into each other, -or go together absolutely in some <i>tertium -quid</i> (some individual product), then the -antithesis is removed, and along with it -the <i>struggle</i>, and so all the activity of -nature. But that the antithesis should endure, -is thinkable only by its being <i>infinite</i>—by -the extreme limits being held -asunder <i>in infinitum</i>—<i>so that always only -the mediating links of the synthesis, never -the last and absolute synthesis itself, can be -produced</i>, in which case it is only <i>relative -points of indifference</i> that are always attained, -never absolute ones, and every -successively originated difference leaves -behind a new and still unremoved antithesis, -and this again goes over into indifference, -which, in its turn, <i>partially</i> -removes the primary antithesis. Through -the original antithesis and the struggle towards -indifference, there arises a product, -but the product partially does away with -the antithesis; through the doing away of -that part—that is, through the origination -of the product itself—there arises a new -antithesis, different from the one that has -been done away with, and through it, a product -different from the first; but even this -leaves the absolute antithesis unremoved, -duality therefore, and through it a product, -will arise anew, and so on to infinity.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Let us say, for example, that by the -product <i>A</i>, the antitheses <i>c</i> and <i>d</i> are -united, the antitheses <i>b</i> and <i>e</i> still lie -outside of that union. This latter is -done away with in <i>B</i>, but this product -also leaves the antithesis <i>a</i> and <i>f</i> unremoved; -if we say that <i>a</i> and <i>f</i> mark the -extreme limits, then the union of these -will be that product which can never be -arrived at.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Between the extremes <i>a</i> and <i>f</i>, lie the -antitheses <i>c</i> and <i>d</i>, <i>b</i> and <i>e</i>; but the series -of these intermediate antitheses is infinite; -all these intermediate antitheses are included -in the one absolute antithesis.—In the -product <i>A</i>, of <i>a</i> only <i>c</i>, and of <i>f</i> only <i>d</i> is -removed; let what remains of <i>a</i> be called -<i>b</i>, and of <i>f</i>, <i>e</i>; these will indeed, by virtue -of the absolute struggle towards indifference, -become again united, but they leave -a new antithesis uncancelled, and so there -remains between <i>a</i> and <i>f</i> an infinite series -of intermediate antitheses, and the product -in which those absolutely cancel themselves -never <i>is</i>, but only <i>becomes</i>.</p> - -<p class='c006'>This infinitely progressive formation -must be thus represented. The original -antithesis would necessarily be cancelled -in the primal product <i>A</i>. The product -would necessarily fall at the indifference-point -of <i>a</i> and <i>f</i>, but inasmuch as the antithesis -is an absolute one, which can be -cancelled only in an infinitely continued, -never actual, synthesis, <i>A</i> must be thought -as the centre of an infinite periphery, -(whose diameter is the infinite line <i>a f</i>.) -Since in the product of <i>a</i> and <i>f</i>, only <i>c</i> and -<i>d</i> are united, there arises in it the new division -<i>b</i> and <i>e</i>, the product will therefore -divide up into opposite directions; at the -point where the struggle towards indifference -attains the preponderance, <i>b</i> and <i>e</i> -will combine and form a new product different -from the first—but between <i>a</i> and <i>f</i>, -there still lie an infinite number of antitheses; -the indifference-point <i>B</i> is therefore -the centre of a periphery which is -comprehended in the first, but is itself -again infinite, and so on.</p> - -<p class='c006'>The antithesis of <i>b</i> and <i>e</i> in <i>B</i> is <i>maintained</i> -through <i>A</i>, because it (<i>A</i>) leaves -the antithesis <i>un-united</i>; in like manner -the antithesis in <i>C</i> is <i>maintained</i> through -<i>B</i>, because <i>B</i>, in its turn, cancels only a -part of <i>a</i> and <i>f</i>. But the antithesis in <i>C</i> is -maintained through <i>B</i>, only in so far as <i>A</i> -maintains the antithesis in <i>B</i>.<a id='r28' /><a href='#f28' class='c015'><sup>[28]</sup></a> What -<span class='pageno' id='Page_213'>213</span>therefore in <i>C</i> and <i>B</i> results <i>from</i> this antithesis—[suppose, -for example, the result -of it were universal gravitation]—is <i>occasioned</i> -by the common influence of <i>A</i>, so -that <i>B</i> and <i>C</i>, and the infinite number of -other products that come, as intermediate -links between <i>a</i> and <i>f</i>, are, in relation to -<i>A</i>, only <i>one</i> product.—The <i>difference</i>, which -remains over in <i>A</i> after the union of <i>c</i> and -<i>d</i>, is only <i>one</i>, into which then <i>B</i>, <i>C</i>, &c., -again divide.</p> - -<p class='c006'>But the continuance of the antithesis is, -in the case of every product, the condition -of the struggle towards indifference, and -thus a struggle towards indifference is -maintained through <i>A</i> in <i>B</i>, and through -<i>B</i> in <i>C</i>.—But the antithesis which <i>A</i> leaves -uncancelled, is only one, and therefore -also this tendency in <i>B</i>, in <i>C</i>, and so on to -infinity, is only conditioned and maintained -through <i>A</i>.</p> - -<p class='c006'>The organization thus determined is no -other than the organization of the Universe -in the system of gravitation.—<i>Gravity</i> is -<i>simple</i>, but its <i>condition</i> is duplicity.—Indifference -arises only out of difference.—The -cancelled duality is matter, inasmuch -as it is only mass.</p> - -<p class='c006'>The <i>absolute</i> indifference-point exists -nowhere, but is, as it were, divided among -several <i>single</i> points.—The Universe which -forms itself from the centre towards the -periphery, <i>seeks</i> the point at which even the -extreme antitheses of nature cancel themselves; -the impossibility of this cancelling -guarantees the infinity of the Universe.</p> - -<p class='c006'>From every product <i>A</i>, the uncancelled -antithesis is carried over to a new one, <i>B</i>, -the former thereby becoming the cause of -duality and gravitation for <i>B</i>.—(This carrying -over is what is called action by distribution, -the theory of which receives -light only at this point.<a id='r29' /><a href='#f29' class='c015'><sup>[29]</sup></a>)—Thus, for example, -the sun, being only <i>relative</i> indifference, -maintains, as far as its sphere of -action reaches, the antithesis, which is the -condition of weight upon the subordinate -world-bodies.<a id='r30' /><a href='#f30' class='c015'><sup>[30]</sup></a></p> - -<p class='c006'>The indifference is cancelled at every -step, and at every step it is restored. -Hence, weight acts upon a body at rest as -well as upon one in motion.—The universal -restoration of duality, and its recancelling -at every step, can [that is] appear -only as a <i>nisus</i> against a third (somewhat). -This third (somewhat) is therefore the pure -zero—abstracted from tendency it is nothing -[= 0], therefore purely ideal, (marking -only direction)—a <i>point</i>.<a id='r31' /><a href='#f31' class='c015'><sup>[31]</sup></a> Gravity [the -centre of gravity] is in the case of every -total product only <i>one</i> [for the antithesis -is one], and so also the relative indifference-point -is only <i>one</i>. The indifference-point -of the <i>individual</i> body marks only the line -of direction of its tendency towards the -universal indifference-point; hence this -point may be regarded as the only one at -which gravity acts; just as that, whereby -bodies alone attain consistence for us, is -simply this tendency outwards.<a id='r32' /><a href='#f32' class='c015'><sup>[32]</sup></a></p> - -<p class='c006'>Vertical falling towards this point is not -a simple, but a compound motion, and it is -a subject for wonder that this has not been -perceived before.<a id='r33' /><a href='#f33' class='c015'><sup>[33]</sup></a></p> - -<p class='c006'>Gravity is not proportional to mass (for -<span class='pageno' id='Page_214'>214</span>what is this mass but an abstraction of the -specific gravity which you have hypostatized?); -but, conversely, the mass of a body -is only the expression of the momentum, -with which the antithesis in it cancels itself.</p> - -<p class='c006'>(<i>d</i>) By the foregoing, the construction -of matter in general is completed, but not -the construction of specific difference in -matter.</p> - -<p class='c006'>That which all the matter of <i>B</i>, <i>C</i>, &c., -in relation to <i>A</i> has <i>common</i> under it, is -the difference which is not cancelled by <i>A</i>, -and which again cancels itself <i>in part</i> in -<i>B</i> and <i>C</i>—hence, therefore, the gravity mediated -by that difference.</p> - -<p class='c006'>What <i>distinguishes B</i> and <i>C</i> from <i>A</i> therefore, -is the difference which is not cancelled -by <i>A</i>, and which becomes the condition of -gravity in the case of <i>B</i> and <i>C</i>.—Similarly, -what distinguishes <i>C</i> from <i>B</i> (if <i>C</i> is a -product subordinate to <i>B</i>), is the difference -which is not cancelled by <i>B</i>, and which is -again carried over to <i>C</i>. Gravity, therefore, -is not the same thing for the higher -and for the subaltern world-bodies, and -there is as much variety in the central -forces as in the conditions of attraction.</p> - -<p class='c006'>The means whereby, in the products <i>A</i>, -<i>B</i>, <i>C</i>, which, in so far as they are opposed -to <i>each other</i>, represent products absolutely -<i>homogeneous</i> [because the antithesis is -the same for the <i>whole product</i>,] another -difference of individual products is possible, -is the possibility of a difference of relation -between the factors in the cancelling, so -that, for example, in <i>X</i>, the positive factor, -and in <i>Y</i>, the negative factor, has the preponderance, -(thus rendering the one body -positively, and the other negatively, electric).—All -difference is difference of electricity.<a id='r34' /><a href='#f34' class='c015'><sup>[34]</sup></a></p> - -<p class='c006'>(<i>e</i>) That the identity of matter is not -<i>absolute</i> identity, but only <i>indifference</i>, can -be proved from the possibility of again -cancelling the identity, and from the accompanying -phenomena.<a id='r35' /><a href='#f35' class='c015'><sup>[35]</sup></a> We may be allowed, -for brevity’s sake, to include this -recancelling, and its resultant phenomena -under the expression <i>dynamical process</i>, -without, of course, affirming decisively -whether anything of the sort is everywhere -actual.</p> - -<p class='c006'><i>Now there will be exactly as many stages -in the dynamical process as there are stages -of transition from difference to indifference.</i></p> - -<p class='c006'>(α) The first stage will be marked by -objects <i>in which the reproduction and recancelling -of the antithesis at every step is -still itself an object of perception</i>.</p> - -<p class='c006'>The whole product is reproduced anew -at every step,<a id='r36' /><a href='#f36' class='c015'><sup>[36]</sup></a> that is, the antithesis which -cancels itself in it, springs up afresh every -moment; but this reproduction of difference -loses itself immediately in <i>universal</i> -gravity;<a id='r37' /><a href='#f37' class='c015'><sup>[37]</sup></a> this reproduction, therefore, can -be perceived only in <i>individual</i> objects, -which seem to gravitate <i>towards each other</i>; -since, if to the one factor of an antithesis -is offered its opposite (in another) <i>both -factors</i> become <i>heavy with reference to each -other</i>, in which case, therefore, the general -gravity is not cancelled, but a special one -occurs <i>within</i> the general.—An instance of -such a mutual relation between two products, -is that of the earth and the magnetic -needle, in which is distinguished the continual -recancelling of indifference in gravitation -towards the poles<a id='r38' /><a href='#f38' class='c015'><sup>[38]</sup></a>—the continual -sinking back into identity<a id='r39' /><a href='#f39' class='c015'><sup>[39]</sup></a> in gravitation -towards the universal indifference-point. -Here, therefore, it is not the <i>object</i>, but the -<i>being-reproduced of the object</i> that becomes -object.<a id='r40' /><a href='#f40' class='c015'><sup>[40]</sup></a></p> - -<p class='c006'><span class='pageno' id='Page_215'>215</span>(β) At the first stage, <i>in</i> the identity of -the product, its duplicity again appears; -at the second, the antithesis will divide up -and distribute itself among different objects -(<i>A</i> and <i>B</i>). From the fact that the -one factor of the antithesis attained a <i>relative</i> -preponderance in <i>A</i>, the other in <i>B</i>, -there will arise, according to the same law -as in α, a <i>gravitation</i> of the factors toward -each other, and so a new difference, which, -when the relative equiponderance is restored -in each, results in repulsion<a id='r41' /><a href='#f41' class='c015'><sup>[41]</sup></a>—(change -of attraction and repulsion, <i>second</i> -stage in which matter is seen)—<i>electricity</i>.</p> - -<p class='c006'>(γ) At the second stage the one factor of -the product had only a <i>relative</i> preponderance;<a id='r42' /><a href='#f42' class='c015'><sup>[42]</sup></a> -at the <i>third</i> it will attain an <i>absolute</i> -one—by the two bodies <i>A</i> and <i>B</i>, the -original antithesis is again completely represented—matter -will revert to the <i>first -stage</i> of becoming.</p> - -<p class='c006'>At the <i>first stage</i> there is still <span class='fss'>PURE</span> <i>difference</i>, -without substrate [for it was only -out of it that a substrate arose]; at the -second stage it is the <i>simple</i> factors of two -<i>products</i> that are opposed to each other; at -the third it is the <span class='fss'>PRODUCTS THEMSELVES</span> that -are opposed; here is difference in the <i>third</i> -power.</p> - -<p class='c006'>If two products are absolutely opposed -to each other,<a id='r43' /><a href='#f43' class='c015'><sup>[43]</sup></a> then in each of them singly -indifference of gravity (by which alone -each <i>is</i>) must be <i>cancelled</i>, and they must -gravitate to <i>each other</i>.<a id='r44' /><a href='#f44' class='c015'><sup>[44]</sup></a> (In the second -stage there was only a mutual gravitating -of the factors to each other—here there is -a gravitating of the products.)<a id='r45' /><a href='#f45' class='c015'><sup>[45]</sup></a>—This process, -therefore, first assails the <i>indifferent -(element) of the</i> <span class='fss'>PRODUCT</span>—that is, the products -themselves dissolve.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Where there is equal difference there is -equal indifference; difference of <i>products</i>, -therefore, can end only with <i>indifference -of products</i>.—(All hitherto deduced indifference -has been only indifference of substrateless, -or at least simple factors.—Now -we come to speak of an indifference of products.) -This struggle will not cease till -there exists a common product. The product, -in forming itself, passes, from both -sides, through all the intermediate links -that lie between the two products [for example, -through all the intermediate stages -of specific gravity], till it finds the point -at which it succumbs to indifference, and -the product is fixed.</p> -<h4 class='c012'>GENERAL REMARK.</h4> -<p class='c005'>By virtue of the first construction, the -product is posited as identity; this identity, -it is true, again resolves itself into an -antithesis, which, however, is no longer an -antithesis cleaving to <i>products</i>, but an antithesis -in the <i>productivity</i> itself.—The -product, therefore, <i>as</i> product, is identity.—But -even in the sphere of products, -there again arises a duplicity in the second -stage, and it is only in the third that even -the duplicity of the <i>products</i> again becomes -<i>identity</i> of the products.<a id='r46' /><a href='#f46' class='c015'><sup>[46]</sup></a>—There is therefore -here also a progress from thesis to antithesis, -and thence to synthesis.—The last -synthesis of matter closes in the chemical -process; if composition is to proceed -yet further in it, then this circle must open -again.</p> - -<p class='c006'><span class='pageno' id='Page_216'>216</span>We must leave it to our readers themselves -to make out the conclusions to which -the principles here stated lead, and the -universal interdependence which is introduced -by them into the phenomena of Nature.—Nevertheless, -to give one instance: -when in the chemical process the bond of -gravity is loosed, the phenomenon of <i>light</i> -which accompanies the chemical process in -its greatest perfection (in the process of -combustion), is a remarkable phenomenon, -which, when followed out further, confirms -what is stated in the Outlines, page 146:—“The -action of light must stand in secret -interdependence with the action of gravity -which the central bodies exercise.”—For, -is not the indifference dissolved at every -step, since gravity, as ever active, presupposes -a continual cancelling of indifference?—It -is thus, therefore, that the sun, -by the distribution exercised on the earth, -causes a universal separation of matter -into the primary antithesis (and hence -gravity). This universal cancelling of indifference -is what appears to us (who are -endowed with life) as <i>light</i>; wherever, -therefore, that indifference is dissolved (in -the chemical process), there light <i>must</i> appear -to us. According to the foregoing, it is -<i>one</i> antithesis which, beginning at magnetism, -and proceeding through electricity, at -last loses itself in the chemical phenomena.<a id='r47' /><a href='#f47' class='c015'><sup>[47]</sup></a> -In the chemical process, namely, <i>the -whole product</i> + <i>E</i> or - <i>E</i> (the <i>positively</i> -electric body, in the case of absolutely <i>unburnt</i> -bodies, is always the <i>more combustible</i>;<a id='r48' /><a href='#f48' class='c015'><sup>[48]</sup></a> -whereas the <i>absolutely incombustible</i> -is the cause of all <i>negatively</i> electric -condition;) and if we may be allowed to -invert the case, what then are bodies themselves -but condensed (confined) electricity? -In the chemical process the whole body -dissolves into + <i>E</i> or - <i>E</i>. Light is everywhere -the appearing of the <i>positive</i> factor -in the primary antithesis; hence, wherever -the antithesis is restored, there is <i>light</i> for -us, because generally only the positive factor -is beheld, and the negative one is only -felt.—Is the connection of the diurnal and -annual deviations of the magnetic needle -with light now conceivable—and, if in -every chemical process the antithesis is -dissolved, is it conceivable that Light is -the cause and beginning of all chemical -process?<a id='r49' /><a href='#f49' class='c015'><sup>[49]</sup></a></p> - -<p class='c006'><span class='pageno' id='Page_217'>217</span>(<i>f</i>) The dynamical process is nothing -but the second construction of matter, and -however many stages there are in the dynamical -process, there are the same number -in the original construction of matter. -This axiom is the converse of axiom <i>e</i>.<a id='r50' /><a href='#f50' class='c015'><sup>[50]</sup></a> -That which, in the dynamical process is -perceived in the product, takes place <i>outside</i> -of the product with the simple factors -of all duality.</p> - -<p class='c006'>The first start to original production is -the limitation of productivity through the -primitive antithesis, which, <i>as</i> antithesis -(and as the condition of all construction), -is distinguished only in <i>magnetism</i>; the -second stage of production is the <i>change</i> -of contraction and expansion, and as such -becomes visible only in <i>electricity</i>; finally, -the third stage is the transition of this -change into indifference—a change which -is recognized as such only in <i>chemical</i> phenomena.</p> - -<p class='c006'><span class='sc'>Magnetism, Electricity and Chemical -Process</span> are the <i>categories</i> of the original -construction of nature [matter]—the latter -escapes us and lies outside of intuition, -the former are what of it remains behind, -what stands firm, what is fixed—the general -schemes for the construction of matter.<a id='r51' /><a href='#f51' class='c015'><sup>[51]</sup></a></p> - -<p class='c006'>And—in order to close the circle at -the point where it began—just as in -organic nature, in the scale of sensibility, -irritability, and formative instinct, -the secret of the production of the <i>whole -of organic nature</i> lies in each individual, -so in the scale of magnetism, electricity, -and chemical process, so far as it (the -scale) can be distinguished in the individual -body, is to be found the secret of the -production of <i>Nature from itself</i> [of the -whole of Nature<a id='r52' /><a href='#f52' class='c015'><sup>[52]</sup></a>].</p> -<div> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_218'>218</span> - <h4 class='c012'>C.</h4> -</div> -<p class='c005'>We have now approached nearer the -solution of our problem, which was: To -reduce the construction of organic and inorganic -nature to a common expression.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Inorganic nature is the product of the -<i>first</i> power, organic nature of the <i>second</i><a id='r53' /><a href='#f53' class='c015'><sup>[53]</sup></a>—(this -was demonstrated above; it will -soon appear that the latter is the product -of a still higher power)—hence the latter, -in view of the former, appears contingent; -the former, in view of the latter, necessary. -Inorganic nature can take its origin -from <i>simple</i> factors, organic nature only -from products, which again become factors. -Hence an inorganic nature generally -will appear as having been from all eternity, -the organic nature as <i>originated</i>.</p> - -<p class='c006'>In the organic nature, indifference can -never be arrived at in the same way in -which it is arrived at in inorganic nature, -because life consists in nothing more than -a continual <i>prevention of the attainment of -indifference</i> [a prevention of the absolute -transition of productivity into product] -whereby manifestly there comes about -only a condition which is, so to speak, -extorted from Nature.</p> - -<p class='c006'>By organization, matter—which has already -been composed for the second time -by the chemical process—is once more -thrown back to the initial point of formation -(the circle above described is again -opened); it is no wonder that matter always -thrown back again into formation at -last returns as a perfect product.</p> - -<p class='c006'>The same stages, through which the -production of Nature originally passes, -are also passed through by the production -of the organic product; only that the latter, -even <i>in the first stage</i>, at least begins -with products of the <i>simple</i> power.—Organic -production also begins with limitation, -not of the <i>primary</i> productivity, but of -the <i>productivity of a product</i>; organic -formation also takes place through the -change of expansion and contraction, just -as primary formation does; but in this -case it is a change taking place, not in -the simple productivity, but in the compound.</p> - -<p class='c006'>But there is all this, too, in the chemical -process,<a id='r54' /><a href='#f54' class='c015'><sup>[54]</sup></a> and yet in the chemical process -indifference is attained. The vital process, -therefore, must again be a higher power of -the chemical; and if the scheme that lies -at the base of the latter is duplicity, the -scheme of the former will of necessity be -<i>triplicity</i> [the former will be a process of -the third power]. But the scheme of triplicity -is [in reality] that [the fundamental -scheme] of the galvanic process (Ritter’s -<i>Demonstration</i>, &c., p. 172); therefore -the galvanic process (or the process of irritation) -stands a power higher than the -chemical, and the third element, which -the latter lacks and the former has, prevents -indifference from being arrived at in -the organic product.<a id='r55' /><a href='#f55' class='c015'><sup>[55]</sup></a></p> - -<p class='c006'>As irritation does not allow indifference -to be arrived at in the individual product, -and as the antithesis is still there (for the -primary antithesis still pursues us),<a id='r56' /><a href='#f56' class='c015'><sup>[56]</sup></a> there -remains for nature no alternative but separation -of the factors in <i>different</i> products.<a id='r57' /><a href='#f57' class='c015'><sup>[57]</sup></a> -The formation of the individual product, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_219'>219</span>for that very reason, cannot be a completed -formation, and the product can never -cease to be productive.<a id='r58' /><a href='#f58' class='c015'><sup>[58]</sup></a> The contradiction -in Nature is this, that the product -must be <i>productive</i> [i. e. a product of the -third power], and that, notwithstanding, -the product, <i>as</i> a product of the third -power, must pass over into indifference.<a id='r59' /><a href='#f59' class='c015'><sup>[59]</sup></a></p> - -<p class='c006'>This contradiction Nature tries to solve -by mediating <i>indifference</i> itself through -<i>productivity</i>, but even this does not succeed—for -the act of productivity is only -the kindling spark of a new process of irritation; -the product of productivity is a -<i>new productivity</i>. Into this as its product -the productivity of the <i>individual</i> now indeed -passes over; the individual, therefore, -ceases more rapidly or slowly to be -productive, and Nature reaches the indifference-point -with it only after the latter -has got down to a product of the second -power.<a id='r60' /><a href='#f60' class='c015'><sup>[60]</sup></a></p> - -<p class='c006'>And now the result of all this?—The -condition of the inorganic (as well as of -the organic) product, is duality. In any -case, however, organic <i>productive product</i> -is so only from the fact <i>that the difference</i> -<span class='fss'>NEVER</span> <i>becomes indifference</i>.</p> - -<p class='c006'>It is [in so far] therefore impossible to -reduce the construction of organic and of -inorganic product to a <i>common</i> expression, -and the problem is incorrect, and therefore -the solution impossible. The problem -presupposes that organic product and -inorganic product are mutually <i>opposed</i>, -whereas the latter is only the <i>higher -power</i> of the former, and is produced -only by the higher power of the forces -through which the latter also is produced. -Sensibility is only the higher power of -magnetism; irritability only the higher -power of electricity; formative instinct -only the higher power of the chemical process.—But -sensibility, and irritability, and -formative instinct are all only included in -that <i>one</i> process of irritation. (Galvanism -affects them all).<a id='r61' /><a href='#f61' class='c015'><sup>[61]</sup></a> But if they are only -the higher functions of magnetism, electricity, -&c., there must again be a higher -synthesis for these in Nature<a id='r62' /><a href='#f62' class='c015'><sup>[62]</sup></a>—and this, -however, it is certain, can be sought for -<span class='pageno' id='Page_220'>220</span>only in Nature, in so far as, viewed as a -whole, it is <i>absolutely</i> organic.</p> - -<p class='c006'>And this, moreover, is also the result to -which the genuine Science of Nature must -lead, viz: that the difference between organic -and inorganic nature is only in Nature -as object, and that Nature as originally-<i>productive</i> -soars above both.<a id='r63' /><a href='#f63' class='c015'><sup>[63]</sup></a></p> - -<hr class='c018' /> - -<p class='c006'>There remains only one remark, which -we may make, not so much on account of -its intrinsic interest, as in order to justify -what we said above in regard to the relation -of our system to the hitherto so-called -dynamical system. If it were asked, for -instance, in what form our original antithesis, -cancelled, or rather fixed, in the product, -would appear from the stand-point -of reflection, we cannot better designate -what is found in the product by analysis, -than as <i>expansive</i> and <i>attractive</i> (retarding) -<i>force</i>, to which then however, gravitation -must always be added as the <i>tertium quid</i>, -whereby those opposites become what they -are.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Nevertheless, the designation is valid -only for the stand-point of reflection or of -<i>analysis</i>, and cannot be applied for <i>synthesis</i> -at all; and thus our system leaves off -exactly at the point where the Dynamical -Physics of Kant and his successors begins, -namely, at the antithesis as it presents -itself in the product.</p> - -<p class='c006'>And with this the author delivers over -these Elements of a System of Speculative -Physics to the thinking heads of the age, -begging them to make common cause with -him in this science, which opens up views -of no mean order, and to make up by their -own powers, acquirements and external -relations, for what, in these respects, he -lacks.</p> - -<p class='c016'>[The notes not marked as “Remarks of the -original” are by the German Editor.—<i>Note of -the Translator.</i>]</p> - -<h3 class='c001'>ANALYSIS OF HEGEL’S ÆSTHETICS. <br /> [Translated from the French of <span class='sc'>M. Ch. Benard</span>, by <span class='sc'>J. A. Martling</span>.]</h3> -<p class='c005'>II. <span class='sc'>Sculpture.</span>—Architecture fashions -and disposes of the masses of inert nature -according to geometric laws, and it -thus succeeds in presenting only a vague -and incomplete symbol of the thought. -Its [thought’s] progress consists in detaching -itself from physical existence, and in -expressing spirit in a manner more in conformity -with its nature. The first step which -art takes in this career does not yet indicate -the return of spirit upon itself, which -would render necessary a wholly spiritual -mode of expression, and signs as immaterial -as thought; but spirit appears under -a corporeal, organized living form. What -art represents is the animate, living body, -and above all the human body, with which -the soul is completely identified. Such -is the <i>rôle</i> and the place which belong to -Sculpture.</p> - -<p class='c006'>It still resembles <i>architecture</i> in this, -that it fashions extended and solid material; -but it is distinguished from it in -this, that this material, in its hands, ceases -to be foreign to spirit. The corporeal -form blends with it, and becomes its living -image. Compared to poetry, it seems -at first to have the advantage over it of -representing objects under their natural -and visible form, while speech expresses -ideas only by sounds; but this -plastic clearness is more than compensated -by the superiority of language as a means -of expression. Speech reveals the innermost -thoughts with a clearness altogether -different from the lines of the figure, the -countenance, and the attitudes of the -body; further, it shows man in action—active -in virtue of his ideas and his passions; -it retraces the various phases of a -complete event. Sculpture represents -neither the inmost sentiments of the soul, -nor its definite passions. It presents the -individual character only in general, and -<span class='pageno' id='Page_221'>221</span>to such an extent as the body can express -in a given moment, without movement, -without living action, without development. -It yields also, in this respect, to -painting, which, by the employment of -color and the effects of light, acquires -more of naturalness and truth, and, above -all, a great superiority of expression. -Thus, one might think at first that Sculpture -would do well to add to its own -proper means those of painting. This is -a grave error; for that abstract form, deprived -of color, which the statuary employs -is not an imperfection in it—it is -the limit which this art places upon itself.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Each art represents a degree, a particular -form of the beautiful, a moment of the -development of spirit, and expresses it -excellently. To Sculpture it belongs to -represent the perfection of the bodily -form, plastic beauty, life, soul, spirit animating -a body. If it should desire to -transcend this limit, it would fail entirely; -the use of foreign means would alter the -purity of its works.</p> - -<p class='c006'>It is with art here as with science; each -science has its object, peculiar, limited, -abstract; its circle, in which it moves, and -where it is free. Geometry studies extension, -and extension only; arithmetic, -number; jurisprudence, the right; &c. Allow -any one to encroach upon the others, -and to aim at universality; you introduce -into its domain confusion, obscurity, real -imperfection. They develop differently -different objects; clearness, perfection, -and even liberty, are to be purchased only -at this price.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Art, too, has many phases; to each a -distinct art corresponds. Sculpture stops -at form, which it fashions according to its -peculiar laws; to add color thereto is to -alter, to disfigure its object. Thereby it -preserves its character, its functions, its -independence; it represents the material, -corporeal side, of which architecture -gives only a vague and imperfect -symbol. It is given to painting, -to substitute for this real form, a simple -visible appearance, which then admits -color, by joining to it the effects of perspective, -of light and shade. But Sculpture -ought to respect its proper limits, to -confine itself to representing the corporeal -form as an expression of the individual -spirit, of the soul, divested of passion -and definite sentiment. In so doing, it -can so much the better content itself with -the human form in itself, in which the -soul is, as it were, spread over all points.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Such is also the reason why Sculpture -does not represent spirit in action, in a -succession of movements, having a determined -end, nor engaged in those enterprises -and actions which manifest a character. -It prefers to present it in a calm -attitude, or when the movement and the -grouping indicate only the commencement -of action. Through this very thing, that -it presents to our eyes spirit absorbed -in the corporeal form, designed to manifest -it in its entirety, there is lacking the -essential point where the expression of -the soul centres itself, the glance of the -eye. Neither has it any need of the -magic of colors, which, by the fineness -and variety of their shadings, are fitted -to express all the richness of particular -traits of character, and to manifest the -soul, with all the emotions which agitate -it. Sculpture ought not to admit materials -of which it has no need at the step -where it stops. The image fashioned by -it, is of a single color; it employs primitive -matter, the most simple, uniform, -unicolored: marble, ivory, gold, brass, -the metals. It is this which the Greeks -had the ability perfectly to seize and hold.</p> - -<p class='c006'>After these considerations upon the -general character of Sculpture, and its -connections with other arts, Hegel approaches -the more special study and the -theory of this art. He considers it—1st, -in its principle; 2d, in its ideal; 3d, -in the materials which it employs, as well -as in its various modes of representation -and the principal epochs of its historic -development.</p> - -<p class='c006'>We are compelled to discard a crowd of -interesting details upon each of these -points, and to limit ourselves to general -ideas.</p> - -<p class='c006'>1. To seize fully the principle of Sculpture -and the essence of this art, it is necessary -<span class='pageno' id='Page_222'>222</span>to examine, in the first place, what -constitutes the <i>content</i> of its representations, -then the corporeal <i>form</i> which -should express it; last, to see how, from -the perfect accord of the idea and the -form, results the <i>ideal</i> of Sculpture as it -has been realized in Greek art.</p> - -<p class='c006'>The essential content of the representations -of Sculpture is, as has been said, -spirit incarnate in a corporeal form. Now, -not every situation of the soul is fitted to -be thus manifested. Action, movement, -determined passion, can not be represented -under a material form; that ought to show -to us the soul diffused through the entire -body, through all its members. Thus, -what Sculpture represents is the individual -spirit, or, according to the formula of the -author, the spiritual individuality in its -essence, with its general, universal, eternal -character; spirit elevated above the -inclinations, the caprices, the transient -impressions which flow in upon the soul, -without profoundly penetrating it. This -entire phase of the personal principle -ought to be excluded from the representations -of Sculpture. The content of its -works is the essence, the substantial, true, -invariable part of character, in opposition -to what is accidental and transient.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Now, this state of spirit, not yet particularized, -unalterable, self-centered, calm, -is the divine in opposition to finite existence, -which is developed in the midst of -accidents and contingencies, the exhibition -of which this world of change and diversity -presents us.</p> - -<p class='c006'>According to this, Sculpture should represent -the divine in itself, in its infinite -calm, and its eternal, immovable sublimity, -without the discord of action and situation. -If, afterward, affecting a more determinate -mode, it represents something human in -form and character, it ought still to thrust -back all which is accidental and transient; -to admit only the fixed, invariable side, -the ground of character. This fixed element -is what Sculpture should express as -alone constituting the true individuality; -it represents its personages as beings complete -and perfect in themselves, in an absolute -repose freed from all foreign influence. -The eternal in gods and men is -what it is called upon to offer to our contemplation -in perfect and unalterable clearness.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Such is the idea which constitutes the -essential content of the works of Sculpture. -What is the <i>form</i> under which this idea -should appear? We have seen, it is the -body, the corporeal form. But the only -form worthy to represent the spirit, is the -<i>human form</i>. This form, in its turn, ought -to be represented, not in that wherein it -approximates the animal form, but in its -ideal beauty; that is to say, free, harmonious, -reflecting the spirit in the features -which characterize it, in all its proportions, -its purity, the regularity of its lines, by -its mien, its postures, etc. It should express -spirit in its calmness, its serenity—both -soul and life, but above all, spirit.</p> - -<p class='c006'>These principles serve to determine the -ideal of beauty under the physical form.</p> - -<p class='c006'>We must take care, in the works of Sculpture, -not to confound this manner of looking -at the perfect correspondence of the -soul and bodily forms, with the study of -the lineaments of the countenance, etc. -The science of Gall, or of Lavater, which -studies the correspondence of characters -with certain lineaments of face or forms of -head, has nothing in common with the artistic -studies of the works of the statuary. -These seem, it is true, to invite us to this -study; but its point of view is wholly different; -it is that of the harmonious and -necessary accord of forms, from which -beauty results. The ground of Sculpture -excludes, moreover, precisely all the peculiarities -of individual character to which -the physiognomist attaches himself. The -ideal form manifests only the fixed, regular, -invariable, although living and individual -type. It is then forbidden to the -artist, as far as regards the physiognomy, -to represent the most expressive and determinate -lineaments of the countenance; -for, beside looks, properly so-called, the -expression of the physiognomy includes -many things which are reflected transiently -upon the face, in the countenance or the -carriage, the smile and the glance. Sculpture -should interdict to itself things so -<span class='pageno' id='Page_223'>223</span>transient, and confine itself to the permanent -traits of the expression of the spirit; -in a word, it should incarnate in the human -form the spiritual principle in its nature, -at once general and individual, but -not yet particularized. To maintain these -two terms in just harmony, is the problem -which falls to statuary, and which the -Greeks have resolved.</p> - -<p class='c006'>The consequences to be deduced from -these principles are the following:</p> - -<p class='c006'>In the first place, Sculpture is, more than -the other arts, suited to the ideal, and this -because of the perfect adaptation of the -form to the idea; in the second place, it -constitutes the centre of classic art, which -represents this perfect accord of the idea -and the sensuous form. It alone, in fact, -offers to us those ideal figures, pure from -all admixture—the perfect expression of -physical beauty. It realizes, before our -eyes, the union of the human and divine, -under the corporeal form. The sense of -plastic beauty was given above all to the -Greeks, and this trait appears everywhere, -not only in Greek art and Greek mythology, -but in the real world, in historic personages: -Pericles, Phidias, Socrates, Plato, -Xenophon, Sophocles, Thucydides, those -artistic natures, artists of themselves—characters -grand and free, supported upon -the basis of a strong individuality, worthy -of being placed beside the immortal gods -which Greek Sculpture represents.</p> - -<p class='c006'>2. After having determined the principle -of Sculpture, Hegel applies it to the study -of the <i>beau ideal</i>, as the master-pieces of -Greek art have realized it. He examines -successively and in detail the character -and conditions of the <i>ideal form</i> in the different -parts of the human body, <i>the face</i>, -<i>the looks</i>, <i>the bearing</i>, <i>the dress</i>. Upon all -these points he faithfully follows Winckelmann, -recapitulates him, and constantly -cites him. The philosopher meanwhile preserves -his originality; it consists in the -manner in which he systematizes that -which is simply described in the History -of Art, and in giving throughout, the reason -of that which the great critic, with his -exquisite and profound sense, has so admirably -seized and undeniably proved, but -without being able to unfold the theory of -it. The subject gathers, henceforth, new -interest from this explication. We may -cite, in particular, the description of the -Greek profile, which, in the hands of the -philosopher, takes the character of a geometric -theorem. It is at the same time an -example which demonstrates unanswerably -the absolute character of physical beauty. -The beauty of these lines has nothing arbitrary; -they indicate the superiority of -spirit, and the pre-eminence of the forms -which express it above those which are -suited to the functions of the animal nature. -What he afterwards says of the -looks, of the bearing, of the postures, of -the antique dress compared with the modern -dress, and of its ideal character, presents -no less interest. But all these details, -where the author shows much of discrimination, -of genius even, and spirit, escape in -the analysis. The article where he describes -the particular attributes and the -accessories which distinguish the personages -of Greek Sculpture, although in great -part borrowed also from Winckelmann, -shows a spirit familiarized with the knowledge -of the works of antiquity.</p> - -<p class='c006'>3. The chapter devoted to the different -<i>modes</i> of representation of the materials -of Sculpture, and of its historic development, -is equally full of just and delicate -observations. All this is not alone from a -theorist, but from a connoisseur and an -enlightened judge. The appreciation of -the <i>materials of Sculpture</i>, and the comparison -of their æsthetic value, furnish -also to the author some very ingenious remarks -upon a subject which seems scarcely -susceptible of interest. Finally, in a rapid -sketch, Hegel retraces the <i>historic development</i> -of Sculpture, Egyptian Statuary, -Etruscan art, the school of Ægina, are -characterized in strokes remarkable for -precision.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Arrived at <i>Christian Sculpture</i>, without -disputing the richness and the ability -which it has displayed in its works in wood, -in stone, etc., and its excellence in respect -to expression, Hegel maintains with reason, -that the Christian principle is little favorable -to Sculpture; and that in wishing -<span class='pageno' id='Page_224'>224</span>to express the Christian sentiment in its -profundity and its vivacity, it passes its -proper limits. “The self-inspection of the -soul, the moral suffering, the torments of -body and of spirit, martyrdom and penitence, -death and resurrection, the mystic -depth, the love and out-gushing of the -heart, are wholly unsuited to be represented -by Sculpture, which requires calmness, -serenity of spirit, and in expression, -harmony of forms.” Thus, Sculpture here -remains rather an ornament of architecture; -it sculptures saints, bas reliefs upon -the niches and porches of churches, turrets, -etc. From another side, through arabesques -and bas reliefs, it approximates -the principle of painting, by giving too -much expression to its figures, or by making -portraits in marble and in stone. -Sculpture comes back to its true principle, -at the epoch of the <i>renaissance</i>, by taking -for models the beautiful forms of Greek -art.</p> -<h3 class='c001'>A DIALOGUE ON MUSIC. <br /> By <span class='sc'>Edward Sobolewski</span>.</h3> -<p class='c005'>Q. Tell me what is good music?</p> - -<p class='c006'>A. Concerning tastes—all fine natures—not -the “fair sex” only, possess, as Bossuet -says, an instinct for harmony of forms, -colors, style and tones, especially for the -latter, because the nerves of the ear being -more exposed, are consequently more sensitive.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Discords massed together without system, -produce a more disagreeable effect -than ill-assorted colors; and on the other -hand, the etherial beauty of tone-poetry -excites the soul more powerfully than the -splendor of a Titian or Correggio.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Q. This “instinct” and “taste,” are -they one and the same?</p> - -<p class='c006'>A. To a certain degree only—though -many amateurs, critics, musicians, and -even composers, have had no other guide -than a fine instinct.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Q. You speak as Pistocchi to the celebrated -Farinelli: “A singer needs a hundred -things, but a good voice is ninety-nine of -them—the hundredth is the cultivation of -the voice.”</p> - -<p class='c006'>A. The instinct of a delicate, sensitive -organization, may go far, but I think the -hundredth thing is also necessary; therefore, -one possessed of the finest voice, but -uncultivated, will sing sometimes badly, -sometimes pretty well, but never quite perfectly -for a real judge.</p> - -<p class='c006'>So it is with taste. Depending on natural -gifts alone, without cultivation—you -will be sometimes right—as often wrong. -In short, your taste is good, if you find -pleasure in those works only which are -composed according to the principles of -art; on the contrary, your taste is bad, -false, corrupt, if you find pleasure in music -full of faults and defects.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Q. Therefore, to be correct in taste, I -must know the principles of the art; I -must know the rules of “Harmony, Rhythm -and Form,” and perhaps much more. -Why, G. Weber has written three large -volumes on “Harmony” alone. No, it is -too difficult and takes too much time.</p> - -<p class='c006'>A. Yet it is not so difficult as it seems. -To understand music rightly, nothing is -necessary but the knowledge of two keys—major -and minor; two kinds of time—common -and triple—one simple chord and -two cadences.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Q. But Rhythm, Form?</p> - -<p class='c006'>A. Form is Rhythm, and Rhythm is time.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Q. Let us begin then with the keys, you -speak of two only—major and minor—but -I have heard something of Ambroseanic, -Gregoryanic, Glareanic and Greek keys, -wherein are composed the beautiful and -sublime compositions of Palestrina, Allegri, -Lotti, that are performed annually -during Passion-week in the church of St. -Peter, at Rome.</p> - -<p class='c006'>A. Well, if you like to go so far back, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_225'>225</span>we will speak about Ambrose, Gregory, -Glareanus, but there are no such things as -“Greek” keys.</p> - -<p class='c006'>The knowledge we have of the music of -the Greeks, is too slight and imperfect to -enable us to assert positively anything concerning -it; and as nothing important or -necessary to modern art is involved, we -may be content to let the music of the ancients -rest in the obscurity which surrounds -it.</p> - -<p class='c006'>With the first Christians, who hated everything -which came from the temples of -the heathens, arose our music.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Their religious songs were a production -of the new soul which came into them with -Jesus Christ, and are the foundation of -our great edifice of art, as it now exists. -In the year 385, Saint Ambrose introduced -four keys, D, E, F, G; Pope Gregory, in -597, added four others to these, and named -the four of Ambrose, “authentic moods,” -and his four, which began on every fifth of -the first four, “plagalic.” In these eight -keys, without sharps or flats, are composed -the liturgic songs of the Roman church, -called “Gregorian chants.” They are -written in notes of equal value, without -Rhythm or Metre, and are sung in unison -with loud voice. Glareanus added to those -eight keys, two more, A and C, with their -plagal moods. To distinguish more clearly, -some one called the key beginning with -“D,” Doric, “E,” Phrygic, “F,” Lydic, -“G,” Mixolydic, “A,” Æolic, and “B,” -Tonic. These names are all we have borrowed -from Greece.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Palestrina, the preserver of our art, -wrote his compositions in these keys, and -for the highest purity of harmony, rhythmical -beauty, sublime simplicity, and deep -religious feeling, his works are still unrivalled.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Q. Why don’t you compose in the old -keys and in Palestrina’s style?</p> - -<p class='c006'>A. They are used sometimes by Handel -in his Oratorios, by Sebastian Bach in his -fugues for organ and piano. Later, Beethoven -has written an Andante in the Lydic -mood in his string-quartette (A minor). I -myself have composed the first chorus of -Vinvela, in the Mixolydic mood, and in Comala, -the song to the moon, in the Doric -mood; but Handel, Bach, Beethoven, and -myself, have written in our own style, and -never imitated Palestrina’s. Men in similar -situations, only, have similar ideas. -All older works of music utter a language -which we yet understand, but cannot speak. -We feel its deep innermost accents, but -we cannot tune the chords of our soul to -that pitch which harmonizes in every respect -with that feeling. Palestrina’s music -sounds like that of another world; it -is all quite simple; mostly common chords, -here and there only a chord of the sixth; -and always an irresistible charm.</p> - -<p class='c006'>This riddle is partially explained, if we -observe how Palestrina selected the tones -for the different parts in his choruses. Let -us take the third, c—e; e. g. let the soprano -and the alto sing this third, and you -will have the same harmonic sound that -the piano or organ gives. But let the tenor -sing one of these tones, and soprano or alto -the other, and the effect will be very different, -although the tones are the same. Palestrina -knew not only the particular sound -of every tone in every voice, but also the -effect which such or such combinations -would produce.</p> - -<p class='c006'>This mystery is taught neither by a singing -school, nor by a theory of composition, -and few composers of to-day know it. -How great and beautiful is Beethoven’s -solemn mass in D! What an effect would -it make, had Beethoven possessed the same -knowledge of voices that he had of instruments? -Now, unfortunately, one often -overpowers the others, and the enjoyment -of this composition will be always greater -for the eye than the ear.</p> - -<p class='c006'>We will now go back to the old keys. -These are taken from the music produced -at that time, as our two keys, major and -minor, are taken from the melodies of later -times.</p> - -<p class='c006'>This seems very simple to us, but not to -our great theorists. Gottfried Weber takes -two keys, major c, d, e, f, g, a, b, c, and -minor a, b, c, d, e, f, g <i>sharp</i>, the same -rising and falling equally.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Hauptmann, the first teacher of harmony -in the Conservatory of Music at Leipsic, -says in his book, The Nature of Harmony -and Metre, page 30—“The key is formed, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_226'>226</span>when the common chord (c, e, g), after -having gone through the subdominant-chord -(f, a, c), and dominant-chord (g, b, -d), has come in opposition with itself; this -opposition coupled together, becomes <i>unity</i> -and the <i>key</i>.” He finds in our music three -keys, and names them, the major, the minor, -and the minor major.</p> - -<p class='c006'>R. Wagner recognizes no key at all; for -him exists a chromatic scale only. He -says: “The scale is the most closely -united, the most intimately related family -among tones.” He does not like to stay -long in one key, and takes the continuous -change of keys for a quality of the music -of the future; therefore, he finds in Beethoven’s -last symphony, in the melody to -Schiller’s poem, a going <i>back</i>, because it -has scarcely any modulation.</p> - -<p class='c006'>We will not be so lavish with keys as -Hauptmann, nor so economical as R. Wagner, -neither are we of Weber’s opinion. -We find in C major the old Glareanic key, -called also “Ionic;” in our A minor of this -day, a “<i>mixtum compositum</i>” of several -old keys; it begins as the “Æolic” a, b, -c, d, e, f, takes then its seventh tone, g -<i>sharp</i>, from the Lydic, transposed a third -higher; uses sometimes also the sixth of the -last, accepts lastly the character of the Phrygic, -transposed a fourth higher, and brings -thus the tone b <i>flat</i> into its scale, which has -been already the subject of much discussion, -although that has never succeeded in -throwing this tone out of many melodies -in A minor. We have melodies which are -the pure A minor from the beginning to the -end, wherein we find f <i>sharp</i> and f <i>natural</i>, -g and g <i>sharp</i>, b and b <i>flat</i>, and the last -oftener than f <i>sharp</i>; therefore, we must -build the scale of A minor, and its harmony, -according to those different tones; it will</p> - -<div class='lg-container-b c011'> - <div class='linegroup'> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'>be a, {b, c, d, e, {f, {g <i>sharp</i>, a,</div> - <div class='line in6'>{b <i>flat</i>, {f <i>sharp</i>, {g <i>natural</i>.</div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c010'>Let us proceed. The two kinds of time -are common and triple. The rhythm of the -first is—__, that of the second—__ __. -The accentuation of subdivisions is governed -by the same law. It makes no difference -whether a piece of music is written -in 2|3 or 2|4, or even 2|8 time; but good composers -of music, writing in 2|4 time, intend the -same to be of lighter rendition than those -composed in 2|2 time, etc.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Concerning harmony, there is one chord -only—all other harmonies are passing -notes, inversions, prolongations, suspensions -or retardations of chord-tones, or -from sharped and diminished intervals. -Harmony is a connection of different melodies. -Before chords were known, they -descanted, that is, they tried to sing to a -melody, commonly a sacred hymn, called -<i>cantus firmus</i>, different harmonical tones, -and named this part, <i>Descant</i>; Italian, -<i>soprano</i>; French, <i>Le dessus</i>. Later there was -added to the tenor (which performed the -<i>cantus firmus</i>) a higher part, named <i>alto</i>, -and lastly, a lower part was added called -<i>bass</i>. These four parts, though each melodious -and independent in itself, harmonized -closely with each other, all striving -for the same aim.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Even to-day we must necessarily call such -music good, wherein every voice acts independently -of all others, and still in harmony -with the same, in order to express the -reigning feeling, and sustain the various -shades in contrast to non-acting and lifeless -trabants, which may be strikingly seen -in many compositions, particularly in four-part -songs for male voices, by Abt, Gumbert, -Kücken, etc., wherein three voices (<i>Brummstimmen</i>) -accompany the fourth with a -growling sound escaping their closed lips.</p> - -<p class='c006'>The two cadences or musical phrases are -the cadence on the tonic and the cadence -on the dominant. The cadence on the -tonic, consisting of the chord in the dominant, -followed by that of the tonic, concludes -the sense of the musical phrase, and -is called “perfect” when the tonic is in the -highest and lowest part. It corresponds to -a period in language. The cadence on the -dominant consists of the tonic, or the chord -of the second or fourth going to the dominant. -The cadence of the dominant suspends -the sense of the musical phrase without -concluding it. This is likewise the -case with the cadence on the tonic, if the -tonic is not in the highest and lowest part.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Q. You say nothing of the great mistake -wherein two fifths or octaves follow each -other?</p> - -<p class='c006'><span class='pageno' id='Page_227'>227</span>A. Of course, the true nature of the -proper arrangement of parts excludes all -direct fifths.</p> - -<p class='c006'>It is considered by the new school “an exploded -idea.” Mozart himself made use of -fifths in the first finale of Don Giovanni.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Q. I have heard something of these fifths, -but was told it was “irony,” being contained -in the minuet which Mozart composed -for “country musicians”?</p> - -<p class='c006'>A. You also find octaves in S. Bach’s -“Matthew Passion,” p. 25, “On the cross,” -where surely no ironical meaning was intended.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Q. Do you not say anything in regard -to form?</p> - -<p class='c006'>A. Form is an “exploded idea” also. -The composers of the new school construct -their vocal music so as to let the poem govern -the music in relation to metre and -form; in their instrumental compositions, -the form is governed by phantasy.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Q. But what do you understand by a -symphony, sonata or overture?</p> - -<p class='c006'>A. I must again go back, in order to explain -this properly.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Revolutions often beat the path for new -ideas. Palestrina towers great and unattainable -in his compositions of sacred music, -which breathe and express the purest -catholicism.</p> - -<p class='c006'>But a Luther, Zwingli, and others came, -followed soon by Handel and Bach, who, -about the middle of the eighteenth century, -created a music full of freshness, primitiveness -and transporting power, which -lived and died with the reformers.</p> - -<p class='c006'>The three grand-masters, Palestrina, -Handel and Bach, equal, but do not rival -each other. We cannot judge them for the -different sentiments they indulged in. The -philosophers may settle which is the best -religion, for to the necessity of one they -all agree, but music cannot be chained by -dogmas. Heaven is an orb, whose centre -is everywhere. Palestrina’s music is -the language of the south, Handel’s and -Bach’s that of the north. Though one sun -illumes both lands—though one ether spans -both, yet in the south the sun is milder, -the ether purer. Flowers which there grow -in wild abundance, the north must obtain -by culture.</p> - -<p class='c006'>We must think at our work.</p> - -<p class='c006'>This necessity of thought is apparent in -religion, language and art, and can be -seen most clearly in the greatest works of -the German grand-masters, in Bach’s -“Matthew Passion,” and Handel’s “Israel.”</p> - -<p class='c006'>Sebastian Bach’s astonishing dexterity -in thematical works is the reason that -even unto this day we do not find a symphony -or overture appropriate for a concert, -of which the single motive forming the -principal thought of the movement is not -worked up on the basis which he constructed -with such deep knowledge and -skill.</p> - -<p class='c006'>To him we must retrace our steps, in -order to perceive the true nature of our -instrumental music, for we are as little -masters of the course of our ideas, as of -the circulation of the blood in our veins. -Centuries have passed, and although the -first great instrumental-piece—the overture—was -a French production, (Lulli was -the first master in this <i>genre</i> of art,) yet -Bach and Handel impressed the first decided -stamp upon it.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Later, the overture was supplanted by -the symphony, for the reason that it was of -easier composition and execution than the -former. The overture consisted of a <i>grave</i>, -followed by a <i>fugue</i>. The symphony was -composed somewhat in the style of a <i>fugue</i> -and that of the lively dances of that time.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Shortly after this period, the dance-music -was thought no longer fashionable, -and was succeeded by two <i>Allegros</i>, with an -<i>Andante</i> or <i>Largo</i> placed between them.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Father Hayden felt hurt at the complete -abandonment of dance-music, and again -adopted the minuet. Mozart also preferred -the grave and majestic dancing-step of his -ancestors, the minuet. But Beethoven’s -impetuous and passionate nature scoffed -at the slow and gracious movements of the -minuet, and revelled instead in the wild -Scherzo, or in the capricious demonical -leaps of the old <i>Passepied</i>. Dark and -mighty forms rose before the gloomy vision -of his inner-man, acting powerfully upon -the phantasy, and wherever they met this -volcanic fire, always leaving a deep impression.</p> - -<p class='c006'><span class='pageno' id='Page_228'>228</span>Two comets ushered in the existence of -our century; the one revolutionized the -exterior—the other, the interior world. -Especially were the young generation -touched by the electric sparks of their -rays.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Napoleon’s battles were repeated a thousand -times in the nurseries with lead and -paper soldiers. Beethoven’s melodies agitated -the souls of the young generation in -their working and dreaming hours. When -the shoes of the child became too small -they were thrown aside; the lead and -paper soldiers shared the same fate; but -the melodious tones grew with the soul to -more and more powerful chords. Beethoven’s -star shone brighter, while Napoleon’s -was already fading. Then we -heard that Beethoven intended to destroy -his great symphony called “Eroica.” Napoleon, -the consul, to whom Beethoven designed -to dedicate this great work, had -sunk to Napoleon the Emperor, and Beethoven -felt ashamed.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Majesty of rank is often devoid of the -grace and majesty of the soul. The chord -e<sup>b</sup>, g, b<sup>b</sup> wherewith the bass solemnly introduced -the third symphony (Eroica), and -his inversions in the Scherzo b<sup>b</sup>, e<sup>b</sup>, g, b<sup>b</sup>, -and in the last movement e, b, b, e, this -echo of the Marseillaise suited no longer -and should perish with it. Only then, -when fate, in the icy deserts of Russia, -clasped the grand General in its iron grip, -and never loosened its hold until it had -crushed him, did the composer of the Eroica -comprehend that in the <i>marcia funebre</i> -contained in this symphony, he had spoken -in prophetic voice. The prophecy contained -in the last movement was destined -to be fulfilled in the latter half of this -century.</p> - -<p class='c006'>As Beethoven poured out his soul in a -prophetic epopee, so did Mozart embody -his genius in his Don Giovanni. But as -the sublime always acts more powerfully -upon youth than knowledge and beauty, so -likewise was the success of Beethoven -greater than that of Mozart in this century. -Altogether Mozart is generally appreciated -better in riper years. “<i>La delicatesse -du gout est une première nuance de -la satiété.</i>”</p> - -<p class='c006'>Mendelssohn, whose compositions ever -flowed smoothly and quietly, understood -well how to tune his harmonica to Mozart’s -tuning-fork.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Q. You represent Beethoven as grave -and solemn, and yet it appears he was not -a great despiser of dances. Take, for instance, -his A major symphony. Lively to -overflowing, almost mad with frantic joy, -is the first movement. Equal to a double -quick-step, the last, about as the peasants -of Saxony perform their dances, the Scherzo -gay; and in the Andante, he even calls -upon a lot of old bachelors and maiden-ladies, -with their hoop accompaniment, to -fall in and execute their <i>tours</i>?</p> - -<p class='c006'>A. What opposite views are often taken -of the same thing by different minds! In -the andante, in which you find so much -humor, Marx observes the sober view of -life, at first the peaceful and untroubled -step, but growing ever more and more -painful, and suffering, fighting the battle -of life; yet, be this as it may, such -music is ever successful, even in spite of -the biting criticism of Maria v. Weber, -and the ferocious attacks of Oulibischeff.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Q. A good dance is always successful, I -believe?</p> - -<p class='c006'>A. Mendelssohn knew this, as he also -understood Beethoven and the public, when -he wrote his dance overture, “A Summer-night’s -Dream.” Auber, Herold and -others wrote dance overtures <i>en masse</i>, and -we often find more piquant themes in them -than Beethoven’s A major symphony, or -Mendelssohn’s Summer-night’s Dream can -boast of, yet we do not prefer them for the -concert.</p> - -<p class='c006'>All compositions for an orchestra, be -they overture or symphony, must first -contain a theme, which expresses the character -of the principal composition. Second, -the expansions of compositions in -the style of a symphony, must, according -to my opinion, originate from <i>one theme</i>, -germinate from <i>one</i> seed, growing larger -and stronger all the time, until the swelling -bud bursts into a beautiful blossom; -yet there must not be orange-blossoms on -an oak-tree; all must fit harmoniously.</p> - -<p class='c006'>The theme, <i>sujet</i>, or <i>motive</i>, must be a -fixed idea, such as “love;” it must be ever -<span class='pageno' id='Page_229'>229</span>present—the first at day-break, the last at -night—no other impression must be strong -enough to erase it.</p> - -<p class='c006'>If, by the blossom, you understand the -creation of a second thought, often called -the second theme, even this second theme -ought to be governed by the first, even -this blossom ought to glow in the same -colors. It must be so twined around the -heart of the composer, that nothing foreign -could possibly enter it. Merely thematical -productions are exercises for the pupil; -compositions which merely contain parts -composed by rule, are merely a musical -exercise. Lobe certainly is wrong, if he -thus teaches the art of composing.</p> - -<p class='c006'>True, it is easy to point out how one -part belongs here, the other there, yet the -composition must be a free expression of -the soul.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Third—The finishing of the same. -This must also be governed in its main -parts by the predominating feeling, and -only minor thoughts and impressions must -be used by the composer to fill up or cast -away.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Let us now turn, for illustration, to the -theme of Wagner’s overture to Faustus. -In the introduction we first see it in the -eighth measure, very moderate, in the -dominant d minor, commencing with the -notes a ā | b<sup>b</sup> b<sup>b</sup>. a | g <i>sharp</i>, and headed -“very expressive,” concerning which Von -Bulow observes, that it truly expresses the -feeling and character of the last lines of -the motto which Wagner chose at the -heading:</p> - -<div class='lg-container-b c011'> - <div class='linegroup'> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'>“Thus life to me a dire burden is;</div> - <div class='line'>Existence I despise, for death I wish.”</div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c010'>If we designate the above-mentioned -theme by figure I. we must name the -figure which already makes its appearance -in the second measure, and which is of the -utmost importance, to wit, d <i>sharp</i>, e, f, f, -e, e, b, b, figure II., the first theme having -been expressed by the violin, the second -figure reappears again in the tenth measure, -executed by the viola, growling like a -furiously racked demon, while the wind instruments, -flute, oboe and clarionet, “very -expressive,” and yet full of sympathizing -sorrow, intervene at the last quarter of -the tenth measure with the motive, which -we will call figure III. Figure II. continues -rumbling in the quartette, relieved -by another figure (IV.) descending -from above, which is introduced by the -second violin in the fourteenth measure. -Figure IV. now extends itself further above -a chromatic bass, until in the nineteenth -measure, in d major, a clear and distinct -new motive, gentle and forgiving in character -(V.) makes its appearance.</p> - -<p class='c006'>These five motives which the composer -so exquisitely leads before us, in his very -moderate introduction, now receive the -finishing-touch in the allegro. Thus speaks -Von Bulow.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Truly, as Goethe says: “If you perform -a piece, be sure to perform the same in -pieces.”</p> - -<p class='c006'>I will pass over the introduction, though -I have as little taste for such “theme -pieces” succeeding each other, as for -Opera-overtures, such as that of Tannhäuser, -where pilgrim-songs, the love-sick -murmurings of the voluptuous Venus, -and the tedious Count’s drawling sorrow -for his only daughter and heir, form a -hash, which in the details, and in the -heterogeneous compilation of the same, is -unpalatable enough, but which is made unbearable -by the soul-killing figures—no! -not figures, but by the up and down strokes -of monotonous bases, which continue for -about sixty measures. Setting aside even -all this, we may justly expect in the allegro -the expansion of the principle theme I., -yet we have no such thing; in place of the -“idea” he produces after the first five measures -a worthless figure, fit for accompaniment -only, which is supported on its tottering -basis by the twenty-seven times repeated -downstroke of the conductor only.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Q. Excuse me; but the tone-picture, -which Von Bulow, R. Wagner’s friend and -admirer, calls the forgiving voice (III), reappears -twice in wind-instrument music?</p> - -<p class='c006'>A. According to Lobe’s system. Borrow -a measure or two from a theme, then -a motive, which you may construct from -this or that or a third figure, and you have, -besides the required unity, the grandest -variation.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Do you know, my young friend, what a -composer understands by an exploded -<span class='pageno' id='Page_230'>230</span>idea? The technical! All who study the -art of composing, as Lobe teaches it, may -learn to become <i>compilers</i> but <i>not composers</i>; -or they must drink elder-tea, till -their visions appear black and blue to -them, in order to evaporate the schooling -they enjoyed. After twenty-seven measures -of earthly smoke, there appears a -solitary star, theme I., continuing for four -whole measures, followed by a little more -mist.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Q. No; I think Bulow says the mist is -parted by a firm and punctuated motive.</p> - -<p class='c006'>A. If it is not firm, it is at least <i>fortissimo</i>. -Enough, we again hear thirteen -measures of unimportant music, concluded -by d minor, followed by a new melody for -a hautboy, which, as it repeats the two -first notes of the first theme, may claim to -be considered as belonging there, leading -to a third in f major, in company with a -tremulando, <i>à la Samiel</i>, crescendo and -diminuendo. We have now arrived at the -point where we may look for the second -theme, “the blossom,” as we before said, -but alas, in vain your tortured soul waits, no -blossoms! The thermometer sinks again! -With the cadence we again hear theme I., -after four measures we find ourselves once -more in d <i>flat</i> major—no, in a minor, b -<i>flat</i> major or b <i>flat</i> minor, or g minor, it is -difficult to say which, for this part may -be said to belong in the “most inseparably -combined, the closest related family -of all keys.” Enough, we find ourselves -after twenty-six measures exactly at the -very place we started from, before the performance -of twenty-six measures, namely, -in f major.</p> - -<p class='c006'>This movement of twenty-six measures -might be wholly thrown out, without one -being any wiser—a possibility which, in -every good composition, must be looked -upon as a great fault, as all parts must be -so closely united as to enforce the presence -and support of each other.</p> - -<p class='c006'>We will now look at the second theme. -In it no critic can find a fault. It unravels -itself smoothly, and, after forty-nine -measures, conducts us again to motive V. -in the introduction, as likewise to figure -II., which here does not frown quite so -much.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Figure V. first appears in f, after twenty-two -measures in g <i>flat</i> major, after fourteen -more in A minor, after thirty-four in d -minor, and after another thirty-nine -measures we at last hear theme I. again, -in the dominant of the bass, a Faustus -with lantern jaws, sunken temples, sparse -hair, but with a very, very magnificent -bread-basket.</p> - -<p class='c006'>The blossom is larger than the whole -tree. If it is not a miracle, it is a wonderful -abortion. Are you now curious as -to the second part? Oh! it almost appears -like a fugue, the bass dies away, a -fifth higher the cello commences, another -fifth higher the viola in unison with the -second violin; but as the composer has -strayed already from d minor to b minor, he -does not think it safe to stray further; the -wind instruments continue by themselves -in figure II.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Q. Bulow says the cello and viola united, -once more introduce the principal -theme.</p> - -<p class='c006'>A. Just so. After the bassoon has tried -twice to begin the same, after about thirty -measures of worldly ether, more devoid -of stars than the South Pole, it is headed -“wild!” The leading theme once -more begins in the principal tonic (d -minor), etc., afterwards enlarged, the -first two notes converted, caught up by -the cello and the trumpet, wherein the -bass-trombone is expected to perform the -high A, and after twenty-eight measures of -“hated existence” the second theme in d -major, together with the finale, appears -like a short bright ray of the glorious sun -on a misty winter day.</p> - -<div class='lg-container-b c011'> - <div class='linegroup'> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'>“He, who reigns above my powers,</div> - <div class='line'>Cannot shake the outer towers”—</div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c010'>is Wagner’s motto, which he has justly -chosen for the heading of his overture, -and I attempt no alteration only at the -conclusion, and close with—</p> - -<div class='lg-container-b c011'> - <div class='linegroup'> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'>“In such music existence a burden is,</div> - <div class='line'>The future I hate, for the End I wish.”</div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c010'>Q. Bulow would also answer as Goethe:</p> - -<div class='lg-container-b c011'> - <div class='linegroup'> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'>“To understand and write of living things,</div> - <div class='line'>Try first to drive away the soul,</div> - <div class='line'>The <i>parts</i> will then remain within your hand!”</div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c010'>A. I have never found fault with these -<span class='pageno' id='Page_231'>231</span>parts, excepting, perhaps, that I said the -working out of the second theme is, in -proportion to the first theme, too extensive; -in fact, there is nothing of the future -contained in the overture.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Q. No future?</p> - -<p class='c006'>A. I mean to say, no music of the future—not -even a chromatic scale for the fundamental -key—it moves entirely in the common -form:</p> - -<p class='c016'>Principal theme—d minor;</p> - -<p class='c017'>Second theme—f major;</p> - -<p class='c017'>Return to fundamental key;</p> - -<p class='c017'>Second theme—d major, and conclusion -in this key.</p> - -<p class='c010'>The finish and working up is neat and -careful, and many pretty and uncommon -effects occur therein; still I do not think -the same in its proper place for a concert.</p> - -<p class='c006'>It inherits nothing of the Bach; the <i>piece</i> -is well constructed, yet the <i>small pieces</i> -cannot escape criticism. Even Beethoven, -in the first movements of his <i>Eroica</i> makes -us acquainted with all the parts he intends -to work up, and in his c minor symphony -he says plainly: Now observe; the notes g -g g e <i>flat</i> compose the whole, nothing -more. But after that it is a rushing flow, -an unbroken ring and song, pressing -breathlessly onward, which captivates and -carries us along with its force. To express -myself plainly, I may say that we can perceive -the work <i>was done</i> before it began.</p> - -<p class='c006'>It is true, and I will not deny that even -he applied the file to heighten its polish, -yet the whole structure stood finished to -his vision before even these first four -notes were penned.</p> - -<p class='c006'>No doubt R. Wagner also imagined a -picture before he painted it, but surely no -musical one; the poetry was there—the -music had to be manufactured. It is full -of genius, and not untrue; but he does -not allow sufficient freedom to the different -instruments, and is, consequently, not -sufficiently “obligato.”</p> - -<p class='c006'>The parts succeed, instead of going in -company or against each other.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Although now one, then another instrument -catches up a thought, yet the whole -appears more like a Quartette of Pleyel -than one of Beethoven’s—the overture is -not thought out polyphonically. Many, -however, do not know what Polyphonism -is; it has been written about in many curious -ways. The pupil will best learn to -write music in a polyphonic manner, if, at -the commencement, he invents at once a -double-voiced movement, but in such a -manner that one voice is not the subordinate -of the other; both are equally necessary -to represent the meaning of the -thought he wishes to express.</p> - -<p class='c006'>In this manner he may or must continue -in regard to the three or four-voiced movements -likewise.</p> - -<p class='c006'>The addition of voices to a melody satisfactory -in itself, be they ever so well -flourished, cannot properly be called polyphonism.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Polyphonism, however, should be the -ruling principle in all orchestral concert -compositions, although in some points, for -instance, in the second theme, homophony -may take its place.</p> - -<p class='c006'>A well composed symphony or overture -must not entertain the audience only, but -every performing musician must feel that -he is not an instrument or a machine, but a -living and intelligent being.</p> - -<p class='c006'>The overture to Faustus so entirely ignores -Polyphony, that it seems a virtual -denial of its effectiveness and importance -in orchestral composition.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Richard Wagner will never become a -composer of instrumental music, but in -his operas he has opened a new avenue, -and his creations therein are something -grand and sublime.</p> -<div> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_232'>232</span> - <h3 class='c001'>SCHOPENHAUER’S DOCTRINE OF THE WILL. <br /> Translated from the German, by <span class='sc'>C. L. Bernays</span>.</h3> -</div> - -<p class='c016'>[We print below a condensed statement of the central doctrine of Arthur Schopenhauer. It -is translated from his work entitled “<i>Ueber den Willen in der Natur</i>,” 2d ed., 1854, Frankfort—pp. -19-23, and 63. To those familiar with the kernel of speculative truth, it is unnecessary -to remark that the basis of the system herewith presented is thoroughly speculative, and resembles -in some respects that of Leibnitz in the Monadology, printed in our last number. It -is only an attempt to solve all problems through self-determination, and this in its immediate -form as the will. Of course the immediateness (i. e. lack of development or realization) of the -principle employed here, leads into difficulty, and renders it impossible for him to see the close relation -he stands in to other great thinkers. Hence he uses very severe language when speaking -of other philosophers. If the Will is taken for the “Radical of the Soul,” then other forms of -self-determination, e. g. the grades of knowing, will not be recognized as possessing substantiality, -and hence the theoretical mind will be subordinated to the practical;—a result, again, which -is the outcome of the Philosophy of Fichte. But Leibnitz seizes a more general <i>aperçu</i>, and identifies -self-determination with cognition in its various stages; and hence he rises to the great -principle of Recognition as the form under which all finitude is cancelled—all multiplicity preserved -in the unity of the Absolute.—<span class='sc'>Editor.</span>]</p> - -<p class='c010'>The idea of a soul as a metaphysical being, -in whose absolute simplicity will and -intellect were an indissoluble unity, was a -great and permanent impediment to all -deeper insight into natural phenomena. -The cardinal merit of my doctrine, and -that which puts it in opposition to all the -former philosophies, is the perfect separation -of the will from the intellect. All -former philosophers thought will to be inseparable -from the intellect; the will was -declared to be conditioned upon the intellect, -or even to be a mere function of it, -whilst the intellect was regarded as the -fundamental principle of our spiritual existence. -I am well aware that to the future -alone belongs the recognition of this -doctrine, but to the future philosophy the -separation, or rather the decomposition of -the soul into two heterogeneous elements, -will have the same significance as the decomposition -of water had to chemistry. -Not the soul is the eternal and indestructible -or the very principle of life in men, -but what I might call the Radical of the -soul, and that is the <i>Will</i>. The so-called -soul is already a compound; it is the combination -of will and the νοῦς, intellect. -The intellect is the secondary, the <i>posterius</i> -in any organism, and, as a mere function of -the brain, dependent upon the organism. -The will, on the contrary, is primary, the -<i>prius</i> of the organism, and the organism -consequently is conditioned by it. For the -will is the very “thing in itself,” which in -conception (that is, in the peculiar function -of the brain) exhibits itself as an organic -body. Only by virtue of the forms -of cognition, that is, by virtue of that -function of the brain—hence only in conception—one’s -body is something extended -and organic, not outside of it, or immediately -in self-consciousness. Just as the -various single acts of the body are nothing -but the various acts of the will portrayed -in the represented world, just so is the -shape of this body as a totality the image -of its will as a whole. In all organic functions -of the body, therefore, just as in its -external actions, the will is the “<i>agens</i>.” -True physiology, on its height, shows the -intellect to be the product of the physical -organization, but true metaphysics show, -that physical existence itself is the product, -or rather the appearance, of a spiritual -<i>agens</i>, to-wit, the will; nay, that matter -itself is conditioned through conception, -in which alone it exists. Perception and -thought may well be explained by the nature -of the organism; the will never can -be; the contrary is true, namely, that every -organism originates by and from the -will. This I show as follows:</p> - -<p class='c006'>I therefore posit the will as the “thing -in itself”—as something absolutely primitive; -secondly, the simple visibility of the -will, its objectivation as our body; and -thirdly, the intellect as a mere function of -a certain part of that body. That part -(the brain) is the objectivated desire -(or will) to know, which became represented: -for the will, to reach its ends, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_233'>233</span>needs the intellect. This function again -pre-supposes the whole world as representation; -it therefore pre-supposes also -the body as an object, and even matter itself, -so far as existing only in representation, -for an objective world without a subject -in whose intellect it stands, is, well -considered, something altogether unthinkable. -Hence intellect and matter (subject -and object) only relatively exist for each -other, and in that way constitute the apparent -world.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Whenever the will acts on external matter, -or whenever it is directed towards a -known object, thus passing through the -medium of knowledge, then all recognize -that the <i>agens</i>, which here is in action, is -the will, and they call it by that name. -Yet, that is will not less which acts in the -inner process that precedes those external -actions as their condition, which create and -preserve the organic life and its substrate; -and secretion, digestion, and the circulation -of the blood, are its work also. But -just because the will was recognized only -while leaving the individual from which it -started, and directing itself to the external -world, which precisely for that purpose -now appears as perception, the intellect -was regarded as its essential condition, as -its sole element, and as the very substance -out of which it was made, and thereby the -very worst <i>hysteron proteron</i> was committed -that ever happened.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Before all, one should know how to discriminate -between will and arbitrariness -(<i>Wille und Willkühr</i>), and one should understand -that the first can exist without -the second. Will is called arbitrariness -where it is lighted by intellect, and whenever -motives or conceptions are its moving -causes; or, objectively speaking, whenever -external causes which produce an act are -mediated by a brain. The motive may be -defined as an external irritation, by whose -influence an image is formed in the brain, -and under the mediation of which the will -accomplishes its effect, that is, an external -act of the body. With the human species -the place of that image may be occupied -by a concept, which being formed from images -of a similar kind, by omitting the -differences, is no longer intuitive, but only -marked and fixed by words. Hence as the -action of motives is altogether independent -of any contact, they therefore can -measure their respective forces upon the -will, on each other, and thereby permit a -certain choice. With the animals, that -choice is confined to the narrow horizon of -what is visibly projected before them; -among men it has the wide range of the -<i>thinkable</i>, or of its concepts, as its sphere. -Those movements, therefore, which result -from motives, and not from causes, as in -the inorganic world, nor from mere irritation, -as with the plants, are called arbitrary -movements. These motives pre-suppose -knowledge, the medium of the motives, -through which in this case causality -is effected, irrespective of their absolute -necessity in any other respect. Physiologically, -the difference between irritation -and motive may be described thus: -Irritation excites a reaction <i>immediately</i>, -the reaction issuing from the same part -upon which the irritation had acted; whilst -a motive is an irritation, which must make -a circuit through the brain, where first an -image is formed, and that image then originates -the ensuing reaction, which now is -called an act of the free will. Hence the -difference between free and unfree movements -does not concern the essential and -primary, which in both is the will, but only -the secondary, that is, the way in which -the will is aroused; to-wit, whether it -shows itself in consequence of some real -cause, or of an irritation, or of a motive, -that is, of a cause that had to pass through -the organ of the intellect.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Free will or arbitrariness is only possible -in the consciousness of men. It differs -from the consciousness of animals in this, -that it contains not only present and tangible -representations, but abstract concepts, -which, independent of the differences -of time, act simultaneously and side by -side, permitting thereby conviction or a -conflict of motives; this, in the strictest -sense of the word, is called free will. Yet -this very free will or choice consists only -in the victory of the stronger motive over -a weaker in a given individual character, -by which the ensuing action was determined, -just as one impulse is overpowered by -<span class='pageno' id='Page_234'>234</span>a stronger counter impulse, whereby the effect -nevertheless appears with the same necessity -as the movement of a stone that -has received an impulse. The great thinkers -of all times agree in this decidedly; -while, on the contrary, the vulgar will -little understand the great truth, that the -mark of our liberty is not to be found in -our single acts, but in our existence itself, -and in its very essence. Whenever one has -succeeded to discriminate will from free -will, or the arbitrary, and to consider the -latter as a peculiar species of the former, -then there is no more room for any difficulty -in discovering the will also in occurrences -wherein intelligence cannot be -traced.</p> - -<hr class='c018' /> - -<p class='c006'>The will is the original. It has created -the world, but not through the medium of -an intellect either outside or inside of -the world, for we know of the intellect only -through the mediation of the animal world, -the very last in creation. The will itself, -the unintentional will which is discovered -in everything, is the creator of the world. -The animals, therefore, are organized in -accordance with their mode of living, -and their mode of living is not shaped in -conformity with their organs; the structure -of any animal is the result of its will -to be what it is. Nature, which never lies, -tells us the same in its <i>naïve</i> way; it lets -any being just kindle the first spark of its -life on one of his equals, and then lets it -finish itself before our eyes. The form and -the movement it takes from its own self, -the substance from outside. This is called -growth and development. Thus even empirically -do all beings stand before us as -their own work; but the language of nature -is too simple, and therefore but few -understand it.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Cognition, since all motives are dependent -on it, is the essential characteristic of -the animal kingdom. When animal life -ceases, cognition ceases also; and arrived -at that point, we can comprehend the medium -by which the influences from the external -world on the movements of other -beings are effected only by analogy, whilst -the will, which we have recognized as the -basis and as the very kernel of all beings, -always and everywhere remains the same. -On the low stage of the vegetable world, -and of the vegetative life in the animal -organizations, it is <i>irritation</i>, and in the -inorganic world it is the mechanical relation -in general which appears as the substitute -or as the analogue of the intellect. -We cannot say that the plants perceive the -light and the sun, but we see that they are -differently affected by the presence or absence -of the sun, and that they turn themselves -towards it; and though in fact that -movement mostly coincides with their -growth, like the rotation of the moon with -its revolution, that movement nevertheless -exists, and the direction of the growth of -a plant is just in the same way determined -and systematically modified as an action is -by a motive. Inasmuch, therefore, as a -plant has its wants, though not of the kind -which require a sensorium or an intellect, -something analogous must take their place -to enable the will to seize at least a supply -offered to it, if not to go in quest of it. -This is the susceptibility for irritation, -which differs from the intellect, in that -the motive and subsequent act of volition -are clearly separated from each other, -and the clearer, the more perfect the intellect -is; whilst at the mere susceptibility -for an irritation, the feeling of the irritation -and the resulting volition can no -longer be discriminated. In the inorganic -world, finally, even the susceptibility -for irritation, whose analogy with the intellect -cannot be mistaken, ceases, and -there remains nothing but the varied reaction -of the bodies against the various influences. -This reaction is the substitute -for the intellect. Whenever the reaction -of a body differs from another, the influence -also must be different, creating a different -affection, which even in its dullness -yet shows a remote analogy with the intellect. -If, for instance, the water in an embankment -finds an issue and eagerly precipitates -itself through it, it certainly does -not perceive the break, just as the acid -does not perceive the alkali, for which it -leaves the metal; yet we must confess -that what in all these bodies has effected -such sudden changes, has a certain -resemblance with that which moves ourselves -whenever we act in consequence of -<span class='pageno' id='Page_235'>235</span>an unexpected motive. We therefore see -that the intellect appears as the medium of -our motives, that is, as the medium of -causality in regard to intellectual beings, -as that which receives the change from the -external world, and which must be followed -by a change in ourselves, as the mediator -between both. On this narrow line, balances -the whole world as representation, -i. e. that whole extensive world in space -and time, which as such cannot be anywhere -else but in our brain, just as dreams; -for the periods of their duration stand on -the very same basis. Whatever to the animals -and to man is given by his intellect as -a medium of the motives, the same is given -to the plants by their susceptibility for irritation, -and to inorganic bodies by their -reaction on the various causes, which in -fact only differ in respect to the degree of -volition; for, just in consequence of the -fact, that in proportion to their wants the -susceptibility for external impressions was -raised to such a degree in the animals that -a brain and a system of nerves had to develop -itself, did consciousness, moreover, -originate as a function of this -brain, and in this consciousness the whole -objective world, whose forms (time, -space and causality) are the rules for the -exercise of this function. We therefore -discover that the intellect is calculated -only for the subjective, merely to be a servant -of the will, appearing only “<i>per accidens</i>” -as a condition of animal life, where -motives take the place of irritation. The -picture of the external world, which at this -stage enters into the forms of time and -space, is but the background on which motives -represent themselves as ends; it is -also the condition of the connection of the -external objects in regard to space and -causality, but yet is nothing else but -the mediation and the tie between the motive -and the will. What a leap would it -be to take this picture to be the true, -ultimate essence of things,—this image of -the world, which originates accidentally in -the intellect as a function of animal brains, -whereby the means to their ends are shown -them, and their ways on this planet cleared -up! What a temerity to take this image -and the connection of its parts to be the -absolute rule of the world, the relations of -the things in themselves—and to suppose -that all that could just as well exist independently -of our brain! And yet this -supposition is the very ground on which -all the dogmatical systems previous to Kant -were based, for it is the implicit pre-supposition -of their Ontology, Cosmology, -Theology, and of all their Eternal Verities.</p> - -<p class='c006'>By this realistic examination we have -gained very unexpectedly the <i>objective</i> -point of view of Kant’s immortal discovery, -arriving by our empirical, physiological -way to the same point whence Kant -started with his transcendental criticism. -Kant made the subjective his basis, positing -consciousness; but from its <i>à priori</i> -nature he comes to the result, that all that -happens in it can be nothing else but representation. -We, on the contrary, starting -from the objective, have discovered what -are the ends and the origin of the intellect, -and to what class of phenomena it belongs. -We discover in <i>our</i> way, that the intellect -is limited to mere representations, and that -what is exhibited in it is conditioned by -the subject, that is, a <i>mundane phenomenon</i>, -and that just in the same way the order -and the connection of all external -things is conditioned by the subject, and -is never a knowledge of what they are in -themselves, and how they may be connected -with each other. We, in our way, like -Kant in his, have discovered that the world -as representation, balances on that narrow -line between the external cause (motive) -and the produced effect (act of will) of intelligent -(animal) beings, where the clear -discrimination of the two commences. <i>Ita -res accendent lumina rebus.</i></p> - -<p class='c006'>Our objective stand-point is realistic, and -therefore conditioned, inasmuch as starting -from natural beings as posited, we have -abstracted from the circumstance that their -objective existence presupposes an intellect, -in which they find themselves as representations; -but Kant’s subjective and -idealistic stand-point is equally conditioned, -inasmuch as it starts from the intellect, -which itself is conditioned by nature, -in consequence of whose development -up to the animal world it only comes -into existence. Holding fast to this, our -<span class='pageno' id='Page_236'>236</span><i>realistic-objective</i> stand-point, Kant’s doctrine -may be characterized thus: after -Locke had abstracted the <i>rôle</i> of the senses, -under the name of “secondary properties,” -for the purpose of distinguishing things in -themselves from things as they appear, -Kant, with far greater profundity, abstracted -the <i>rôle</i> of the brain functions [conceptions -of the understanding]—a less considerable -<i>rôle</i> than that of the senses—and -thus abstracted as belonging to the subjective -all that Locke had included under -the head of primary properties. I, on the -other hand, have merely shown why all -stands thus in relation, by exhibiting the -position which the intellect assumes in the -System of Nature when we start realistically -from the objective as a datum, and -take the <span class='sc'>Will</span>, of which alone we are immediately -conscious, as the true που στῶ of -all metaphysics—as the essence of which -all else is only the phenomenon.</p> -<h3 class='c001'>INTRODUCTION TO PHILOSOPHY.</h3> -<h4 class='c012'>CHAPTER VII. <br /> COMPREHENSION AND IDEA.</h4> -<h4 class='c012'>I.</h4> -<p class='c005'>Everything, to be known, must be thought -as belonging to a system. This result was -the conclusion of Chapter VI. To illustrate: -acid is that which hungers for a -base; its sharp taste is the hunger itself; -it exists only in a tension. Hence to think -an acid we must think a base; the base is -ideally in the acid, and is the cause of its -sharpness. The union of the acid and -base gives us a salt, and in the salt we cannot -taste the acid nor the base distinctly, -for each is thoroughly modified by the -other, each is <i>cancelled</i>. We separate the -acid and base again and there exist two -contradictions—acid and base—each calling -for the other, each asserting its complement -to be itself. For the properties of -a somewhat are its <i>wants</i>, i. e. what it lacks -of the total.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Such elements of a total as we are here -considering, have been called “<i>moments</i>” -by Hegel. The total is the “<i>negative unity</i>” -(See Chap. IV.)</p> - -<p class='c006'>In the illustration we have salt as the -negative unity of the moments, acid and -base. The unity is called <i>negative</i> because -its existence destroys each of the -moments by adding the other to it. After -the negative unity exists, each of the moments -is no longer in a tension, but has become -thoroughly modified by the other. -The negative unity is <i>ideal</i> when the moments -are held asunder—it is then potential, -and through it each moment has its -own peculiar properties.</p> - -<p class='c006'>More generally: every somewhat is <i>determined</i> -by another; its characteristic, -therefore, is the manifestation of its other -or of the complement which makes with it -the total or negative unity.</p> - -<p class='c006'>The complete thought of any somewhat -includes the phases or moments, as such, -and their negative unity. This may properly -be called the <i>comprehension</i>. To -comprehend [<i>Begreifen</i>] we must seize -the object in its totality; com-prehend -= to seize together, just as con-ceive = -to take together; but conception is generally -used in English to signify a picture of -the object more or less general. Not the -totality, but only some of its characteristics, -are grasped together in a conception. -Hence conceptions are <i>subjective</i>, -i. e. they do not correspond to the true -object in its entirety; but comprehension -is <i>objective</i> in the sense that everything in -its true existence is a comprehension. -With this distinction between conception -and comprehension most people would -deny, at once, the possibility of the latter -as an act of human intelligence. Sensuous -knowing—for the reason that it attributes -validity to isolated objects—does not -comprehend. Reflective knowing seizes -the reciprocal relations, but not in the -negative unity. Comprehension—whether -one ever can arrive at it or not—should be -the thought in its totality, wherein negative -<span class='pageno' id='Page_237'>237</span>unity and moments are thought together. -Thus a true comprehension is the -thought of the self-determined, and we -have not thoroughly comprehended any -thing till we have traced it back through -its various presuppositions to self-determination -which must always be the form of -the total. (See chapters IV. & V.)</p> -<h4 class='c012'>II.</h4> -<p class='c005'>The name “Idea” is reserved for the -deepest thought of Philosophy.<a id='r64' /><a href='#f64' class='c015'><sup>[64]</sup></a> In <i>comprehension</i> -we think a system of dependent -moments in a negative unity. Thus in -the comprehension the multiplicity of elements, -thought in the moments, is destroyed -in its negative unity, and there is, consequently, -only one independent being or -totality. Let, once, each of these moments -develop to a totality, so that we have in -each a repetition of the whole, and we -shall have a comprehension of comprehensions—a -system of totalities—and this is -what Hegel means by “<i>Idee</i>,” or Idea. -Plato arrives at this, but does not consistently -develop it. He deals chiefly with -the standpoint of comprehension, and -hence has much that is <i>dialectical</i>. (The -Dialectic is the process which arises when -the abstract and incomplete is put under -the form of the true, or the apodeictic. To -refute a category of limited application, -make it universal and it will contradict -itself. Thus the “Irony” of Socrates consists -in generously (!) assuming of any -category all that his interlocutor wishes, -and then letting it refute itself while he -applies it in this and that particular instance -with the air of one who sincerely -believes in it. Humor is of this nature; -the author assumes the validity of the -character he is portraying in regard to his -weak points, and then places him in positions -wherein these weaknesses prove their -true nature.) Aristotle, on the other hand, -writes from the standpoint of the <i>Idea</i> -constantly, and therefore treats his subjects -as systematic totalities independent -of each other; this gives the appearance -of empiricism to his writings. The following -illustration of the relation of comprehension -to idea may be of assistance -here:</p> - -<p class='c006'>Let any totality = T be composed of elements, -phases or moments = a + b + c + d, -&c. Each of these moments, a, b, c, &c., -differs from the others and from the total; -they are in a negative unity just as acid -and base are, in a salt. The assertion of -the negative unity cancels each of the moments. -The negative unity adds to <i>a</i> the -<i>b</i>, <i>c</i>, and <i>d</i>, which it lacks of the total; for -a = T - b - c - &c.; and so too b = T - a - c -- d - &c., and c = T - a - b - &c. Each demands -all the rest to make its existence -possible, just as the acid cannot exist -if its tension is not balanced by a base. -So far we have the Comprehension. -If, now, we consider these moments as -being able to develop, like the Monads of -Leibnitz, we shall have the following result: -<i>a</i> will absorb <i>b</i> + <i>c</i> + <i>d</i> + <i>&c.</i>, and thus -become a totality and a negative unity for -itself; <i>b</i> may do likewise, and thus the -others. Under this supposition we have, -instead of the first series of moments (a + -b + c + d + &c.) a new series wherein -each moment has developed to a total by -supplying its deficiencies thus: a b c d -&c., + b a c d &c., + c a b d &c., + -d a b c &c. In the new series, each -term is a negative unity and a totality, -and hence no longer exists in a tension, -and no longer can be cancelled by the -negative unity. Such a system of terms -would offer us a manifold of individuals, -and yet a profound unity. This is the -unity of the Idea, and it affords a concrete -multiplicity. Leibnitz gives to his Monads -<span class='pageno' id='Page_238'>238</span>the power of reflection, so that each is the -mirror of the universe; hence, in each is -found the whole, and the Totality is endlessly -repeated; “everywhere the one and -the all”—and this is the “preestablished -harmony,” no doubt. This is the highest -point of view in philosophy—true multiplicity -and true unity coexisting. Plato -reaches it in his statement in the Timaeus, -that “God has made the world most like -himself, since he <i>in nowise possesses envy</i>.” -The ultimate purpose of the universe is -the reflection of God to himself. In this -reflection, the existence of independent -self-determining totalities is presupposed; -to all else he is a negative unity, and -therefore destructive. To the righteous, -i. e. to those who perfect themselves by -performing for themselves the function of -negative unity, He says: “In you I am -well pleased; I am reflected in you.” But -to the wicked he is a consuming fire, for -they do not assume the function of negative -unity, but leave it to be used toward -them from outside. Thus, too, the lower -orders of existence perish through this, -that their negative unity is not within but -without. If God is conceived merely as -the negative unity, and the creature not as -self-determining, we have the standpoint -of Pantheism. It is the Brahm which becomes -all, and all returns into him again. -If we had such a God we should only <i>seem</i> -to be, for when he looked at us and “placed -us under the form of Eternity” we should -vanish. But in culture each of us absorbs -his “not me,” just as “a,” in the illustration -given above, became a b c d &c. -Its <i>a</i>-ness was destroyed by its modifying -(“rounding off”) its own peculiarity by -the peculiarities of the rest, and thus becoming -“cosmopolitan.” This is justly -esteemed the profoundest and most sacred -dogma of the Christian Religion when -stated as the doctrine of the Trinity. The -completest unity there obtains of independent -individualities. All higher forms of -spirit repeat the same thought. Government, -e. g. is the Legislative, the Judiciary, -and the Executive. Resist the Judiciary -and it can, in the exercise of its function, -assume executive powers. Each -power is the entire organism viewed from -the standpoint of one of its phases, just -as <i>a b c</i>, <i>b a c</i>, <i>c a b</i>, are the same totality, -but with different starting points assumed.</p> - -<p class='c006'>The self-determining being is the being -which is its own other, and hence is its own -negative unity. Thus it can never be a -simple moment of a higher being, but is -essentially a <i>reflection</i> of it. Recognition -is the highest deed; it belongs to the standpoint -of the Idea. Upon the plane of comprehension, -the unity and multiplicity are -mutually destructive; upon the plane of -Idea they are mutually affirmative. The -more creatures in whom he can be reflected, -the more affirmations of God there are. -The human spirit grows solely through recognition.</p> - -<hr class='c018' /> - -<p class='c006'><i>Remark.</i> This is the only standpoint -that is absolutely affirmative—all others -being more or less negative, and, as a consequence, -self-opposed. The stage of <i>human -culture</i> is the most concrete illustration -of it. Three human beings—A, B, and -C—meet and form a community. As physical -beings they exclude, each the others. -The more one eats, the less the others have -to eat. But spiritually it is the reverse: -each has a different experience, and their -giving and taking, instead of diminishing -any one’s share, <i>increases</i> it. The experience -of A is imparted to B, and conversely; -and so also both share with C. By -this, C grows through the culture of A and -B, and becomes C B A; B develops to B -C A, and A to A C B; all is gain: no loss, -except of <i>poverty</i>. Limitation by another -makes a finite being. But self-determination -is the process of being one’s own -“other” or limit, and hence all self-determined -beings are totalities or microcosms, -which, though independent, reflect -each other, i. e. they make themselves in -the same image. Hence the “Preëstablished -Harmony” exists among such beings. -Each is its own negative. Cognition -or mind is the form of being which -embodies this.</p> - -<p class='c006'>In culture we have an absolutely affirmative -process, for the reason that the <i>negative</i>, -involved in the cancelling of one’s -own idiosyncracies, is a negative of what -<span class='pageno' id='Page_239'>239</span>is already negative. Hence the unity of -God is not in anywise impaired by the existence -of a continually increasing number -of perfected beings. In proportion to their -perfection they reflect Him, and their complete -self-determination is just that complete -realization of Him which completes -his self-consciousness. This has been -called Pantheism by those who confound -this standpoint with that of the Comprehension. -Pantheism is impossible with a -proper insight into the nature of self-consciousness. -A blind force fulfilling its -destiny, and giving rise to various orders -of beings which are to be re-absorbed by -it,—if one fancies this to be God, call him -a Pantheist, for God is then merely a negative -unity, and creation is only a series -of <i>moments</i>. But if one considers God -to be the Absolute Person, and deduces all -Theology from His self-consciousness, as -Hegel does, he cannot be called a Pantheist -consistently by any one who believes in -the Gospel of St. John. It is easy to see -why Hegel has been and still is regarded -as a Pantheist. When he asserts the self-consciousness -of the creature to be the -completion of the Divine self-consciousness, -Hegel merely states the logical constituents -of the Christian idea of the Trinity. -The “creature” is the <i>Son</i>, which is -“in the beginning.” All time must have -presented and still presents the development -of creatures into self-conscious beings. -Our planet began a short time since to do -this. “The fullness of time had come,” -and the final stage of reflection (which -must always have existed in the Universe) -began on the earth, or, to state it theologically, -“The Son was sent to redeem this -world.” To think that Hegel could regard -God as becoming conscious in time—as -passing from an unconscious state to a -conscious one—is to suppose him the -weakest of philosophers. <i>Self-consciousness</i> -cannot be “in time,” for it is the -“form of eternity,” and thus time is not -relative to it. The “fleeting show” of -History does not touch the self-consciousness -of God, nor does it touch any self-conscious -being “whose soul is builded -far from accident.”</p> -<h4 class='c012'>CHAPTER VIII. <br /> WHAT IS THE TRUE ACTUAL?</h4> -<h4 class='c012'><span class='fss'>I.</span>—<i>Reality and Potentiality.</i></h4> -<p class='c005'>The immediate object before the senses -undergoes change; the real becomes potential, -and that which was potential becomes -real. Without the potentiality we -could have had no change. At first we are -apt to consider the real as the entire existence -and to ignore the potential; but -the potential will not be treated thus. -Whatever a thing <i>can</i> become is as valid -as what it is already. The properties of a -thing by which it exists for us, are its relations -to other beings, and hence are -rather its <i>deficiencies</i> than its being <i>per se</i>. -Thus the sharpness in the acid was pronounced -to be the hunger of the same for -alkali; the sharper it was, the louder was its -call for alkali. Thus the very concreteness -of a thing is rather the process of its potentialities. -To illustrate this: we have a -circle of possibilities belonging to a thing—only -one of them is real at a time; it is, -for instance, water, whose potentialities -are vapor, liquid, and solid. Its reality is -only a part of its total being, as in the -case of water it was only one-third of -itself at any given temperature. Yet the -real is throughout qualified by the potential. -In change, the real is being acted -upon by the potential under the form -of “outside influences.” The pyramid -is not air, but the air continually acts -upon it, and the pyramid is in a continual -process of decomposition; its potentiality -is continually exhibiting its nature. -We know by seeing a thing undergo change -what its potentialities are. In the process -of change is manifested the activity of the -potentialities which are thus negative to it. -If a thing had no negative it would not -change. The real is nothing but the surface -upon which the potential writes its -nature; it is the field of strife between -the potentialities. The real persists in existence -through the potential which is in -continual process with it. Thus we are -led to regard the product of the two as the -constant. This we call <i>Actuality</i>.</p> -<div> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_240'>240</span> - <h4 class='c012'><span class='fss'>II.</span>—<i>Actuality.</i></h4> -</div> -<p class='c005'>The actual is a process, and is ever the -same; its two sides, are the real and the -potential, and the real is manifested no -more and no less than the potentialities, in -the process which constantly goes on. The -real is annulled by the potential, and -the latter becomes the real, only to be -again replaced. If in the circle of possibilities -which make up the entire being -of a thing, that which is real bears a small -proportion to the rest, the real is very unstable, -for the potentialities are to that -extent actively negative to it. But let the -sphere of the real be relatively large, and -we have a more stable being—there is less -to destroy it and more to sustain it—it is -a higher order of being. If the whole -circle of its being were real it would coincide -with its actuality, it would be self-related, -exist for itself, and this would be -the existence of the <i>Idea</i>.</p> -<h4 class='c012'><span class='fss'>III.</span>—<i>The Actual is the Rational.</i></h4> -<p class='c005'>The highest aim is toward perfection; -and this is pursued in the cancelling of -the finite, partial or incomplete, by adding -to it its other or complement—that which -it lacks of the Total or Perfect. Since -this complement is the <i>potential</i>, and since -this potential is and can be the only agent -that acts upon and modifies the real, it -follows that all process is pursuant of the -highest aim; and since the actual is the process -itself, it follows that the actual is the -realization of the Best or of the Rational. -A somewhat has a low order of existence -if the sphere of its reality is small compared -to that of its potentiality. But the -lower its order the more swift and sure -are the potentialities in their work. Hence -no matter how bad anything is, the very -best thing is being wrought upon it. Seize -the moments of the world-history, and -state precisely what they lacked of the -complete realization of spirit, and one will -see clearly that each phase perished by -having just that added to it which it most -of all needed.</p> -<h4 class='c012'><span class='fss'>IV.</span>—“<i>The Form of Eternity.</i>”</h4> -<p class='c005'>To think according to Reason is to think -things under the form of Eternity, says -Spinoza (<i>Res sub quadam specie aeternitatis -percipere</i>). The Form of Eternity is -what we have found as the true actual. -The Phenomenal world is the constant -spectacle wherein each and all is placed -under the form of Eternity. When this is -done, all <i>immediate</i> (or mechanical) being -appears in a state of transition; all <i>mediated</i> -being appears as a merely relative, -i. e. as existing in what lies beyond it; all -<i>absolutely mediated</i> (i. e. self-determined) -being appears in a state of development. -In the first and second stages the individual -loses its identity. In the third stage -the process is one of unfolding, and hence -the continual realizing of a more vivid personal -identity. Thus the Form of Eternity -is to the conscious being the realization of -his Immortality.</p> - -<h3 class='c001'>A THOUGHT ON SHAKESPEARE. <br /> <span class='sc'>By Anna C. Brackett.</span></h3> -<p class='c005'>To say that Shakespeare excels others by -virtue of the genius which enables him to -throw himself for the time completely into -each of the characters he represents, is to -say a very common-place thing, and yet it -will bear repeating.</p> - -<p class='c006'>His spirit was so many-sided, so universal, -that it was able to take all forms and -perfectly to fit itself to each, so that he always -gives us a consistent character. His -personages are individuals whose every -word agrees with every other they have -spoken, and while the spirit which moves -in them is Shakespeare, he is all, yet no -one of them.</p> - -<div class='lg-container-b c011'> - <div class='linegroup'> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'>“The water unchanged in every case,</div> - <div class='line'>Doth take on the figure of the vase.”</div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c010'>He does not consciously go to work to -<span class='pageno' id='Page_241'>241</span>fashion a character, nor does he ask himself -what that character shall say under -the given circumstances, but his soul, being -capable of all, takes on for the time -the form of the character, and then speaks -the things which are most natural to itself -in that form. So entirely is this the case, -that a comparison of the way in which one -of his personages conducts himself under -different circumstances, is sure to amaze -us as we discover the fine touches by which -the unity of the character is preserved. -Goethe’s characters grow—are in a state of -becoming. Shakespeare’s are grown: they -are crystallized. The problem with Goethe -is, the development of a character through -growth; Shakespeare’s: given a certain -character and a certain collision, how -will the given character demean itself? -The common man with an effort could tell -what <i>he himself</i> would have done under -such and such circumstances, but Shakespeare -could have done <i>all things</i>, and -grasping one side of himself he holds it, -and shows it for one person, and another -for another. He never confuses—never -changes. The divine inspiration sways -him. The power to do this, the Universal -which can take on all and be all, is genius.</p> - -<p class='c006'>This is not claimed as new in any sense. -I simply wish to illustrate its truth with -regard to the suitors of Portia, by noticing -how perfectly the feelings which each expresses -after the result of his choice is apparent, -are the outcome of the feelings -which decided the choice.</p> - -<p class='c006'>The three sets of comments on the caskets -and their mottoes, betray three entirely -different men. Their minds move -differently; they are actuated habitually -by different motives, and the results of the -same failure in Morocco and Arragon are -noticeably different. They are placed in -precisely the same circumstances. They -are both disappointed, but observe how -differently they demean themselves. Morocco -wastes no words. His mood changes -instantly from a doubting hope to despondency -and heartfelt grief, so powerful that -it deprives him of all speech. He goes at -once. But Arragon speaks as if he had -been deceived. First—“How much unlike -art thou to Portia!” That is, I was -led to suppose one thing; I have been misled. -Then—“How much unlike my -hopes!” but, indignation and wounded -pride gaining the ascendency—“<i>and my -deservings!</i>” He re-reads the motto, and -grows more angry still. He has not been -treated fairly, and at last, forgetting himself, -he turns round to Portia with the -fierce, direct question, “Are my deserts no -better?” Portia shows her appreciation -of his state of mind by her evasion, plainly -intimating that he had gone too far in -his manner of addressing her. His very -words are rough and uncourteous in their -abruptness. His question was rude because -so personal. In his haste he has not -even noticed the writing, which now surprises -him, as, feeling her quiet rebuke, he -turns back to the casket to hide his embarrassment, -and he reads. During the reading -he begins to be conscious that he has -been angry without reason, and that he -has not had control enough of himself to -conceal the fact. That he is not a fool is -shown by his consciousness that he has -behaved like one in giving away to his -temper, and as this consciousness begins -to dawn on him, he is ashamed of himself -for having been provoked, and desires to -be gone as soon as possible. He has had a -revelation of himself which is not agreeable, -and he turns to depart, no longer angry -with Portia, but so angry with himself -that he almost forgets to bid the lady -adieu. But suddenly reminded that she is -there, he assumes again his usual, courtly, -outside self, and half in apology for his -anger and rudeness, which might have led -her to suppose that he would forget his -promise, half to recall himself to himself, -he awkwardly ends the scene by assuring -her that he means to keep his word.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Now, why should Morocco never for one -instant lose his gentlemanly bearing, while -Arragon so wholly forgets himself? Turn -back to the comments before the choice, -and we have the key at once.</p> - -<p class='c006'>In their remarks on the leaden chest we -see at first how much more quickly than -Morocco, Arragon rushes at conclusions. -The former becomes at once thoughtful, -and does not pass by even that unattractive -metal without careful pausing. After -<span class='pageno' id='Page_242'>242</span>reading all three mottoes once, he reads -slowly the inscription on the leaden casket -again, and begins to repeat it a second -time. He feels thoroughly how much depends -on the choice, and is self-distrustful. -Finding that he can gain no suggestion -from the lady, he commends himself for -help to the gods before he proceeds. He -is not the man to be daunted by a threat, -and thinks he detects in that very threat a -false ring. He is conscious of high motives, -but not in vanity, and he decides, -adversely, giving a reason. But Arragon, -before surveying the whole ground, decides -at once about the first he sees, and the -summary way in which he dismisses all -consideration of the leaden casket, savors -strongly of self-esteem. There is a sort -of bravado in the sudden words without a -moment’s pause: “You shall look fairer ere -I give or hazard!” The very use of “shall” -with the second person, forces into view the -will of the speaker. He does not turn to -Portia. He is quite capable of directing his -own actions without help from any god.</p> - -<p class='c006'>As Morocco considers the silver, the -principal thing that attracts his attention -is its “virgin hue.” (Remark that Arragon -under the same circumstances calls it a -“treasure house.”) He again begins -thoughtfully to repeat; and again mark -the self-distrust. There is an exquisitely -delicate touch of this in—</p> - -<div class='lg-container-b c011'> - <div class='linegroup'> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'>“If thou be’st rated by thy <i>estimation</i>,</div> - <div class='line'>Thou dost deserve enough.”</div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c010'>Relying on the judgment of others, rather -than on his own, but conscious too that -there is good ground for the estimation in -which he knows himself held, the chivalrous -admiration with which he looks up to -the woman he desires, comes in here suddenly -with a doubt whether if all that is -thought of him is deserved, it is enough -to win a pearl of so great price. His conscious -manhood refuses, however, to weaken -itself by doubting, and he again repeats -the clause on which he stopped before. He -goes back to the thought of the estimation -in which he is held; he thinks of his noble -birth, of his princely fortune, of his -graces, and qualities of breeding, and -enumerating all these, he proves his title -to a better nobility by the sudden thought -that the love he bears her is enough to -make him deserve her were she never so -precious, and on that, and that alone, he -rests his claim. But before deciding he -will read again from the gold casket, and -his exclamations on it are only a continuation -of his previous thought. It seems -perfectly plain to him that this must be the -fortunate casket. In his generous love he -forgets himself entirely, and as it were to -show her how wholly he believes in her, he -makes his selection here. Why should he -be angry at the failure? He had no self-assertion -to be wounded. If he deserved -her, it was only because he loved her; and -if he did not deserve her, it was only because -she was more than any one could deserve.</p> - -<p class='c006'>As Arragon, after passing by the lead, -turns to the gold, he begins to be a little -more cautious, and repeats like Morocco. -But his mind, instead of turning at once -to Portia as the only prize in the world -wholly desirable, begins from a lofty eminence -of superiority to criticise others -whom he calls the “fool multitude.” He -will not choose what many men desire, because -he prefers to keep out of the ranks. -No democrat, but a proud aristocrat is he, -and so the gold casket is set aside. After -reading from the next, he begins to criticise -again. It seems as if he stood outside -of all the world and coolly reviewed it. -On consideration he is quite sure that there -is no danger of his losing his place even if -“true honor were purchased by the merit -of the wearer,” and basing his choice on -his belief that he deserves success, he orders -peremptorily the opening of the -“treasure house.”</p> - -<p class='c006'>Is it not most natural that with such -feelings, such self-complacency, he should -be angry when he finds he has made a mistake? -Nothing can be more galling to a -proud spirit than to discover that the estimation -set upon him by others is lower -than that he sets upon himself.</p> - -<p class='c006'>It was not our purpose to compare Bassanio’s -comments with the others. Let us -say only that he evidently prizes sincerity -above all other virtues, and prefers a leaden -casket that is lead all through, to a golden -one that is gold only on the outside, -and so he wins the woman, who, as she -shows us a moment afterwards, is sincere -enough to deserve to be won.</p> -<div> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_243'>243</span> - <h3 class='c001'>LEONARDO DA VINCI’S “LAST SUPPER,” <br /> <span class='sc'>As treated by Goethe.</span></h3> -</div> -<p class='c009'>[The following extracts from Goethe’s treatment of the master-piece of Leonardo da Vinci -were read at a meeting of the St. Louis Art Society, pending the discussion of a fine engraving -of this celebrated picture. The MS. kindly presented to us by the translator we print, in order -to give to those unacquainted with the original an exhibition of Goethe’s thorough manner of -penetrating the spirit of a work of art.—<span class='sc'>Editor.</span>]</p> -<p class='c005'>The Last Supper * * * was -painted upon the wall of the monastery -<i>alle Grazie</i>, at Milan. The place where -the picture is painted must first be considered, -for here the skill of the artist appears -in its most brilliant light. What -could be fitter and nobler for a refectory -than a parting meal, which should be an -object of reverence to the whole world for -all future time. Several years ago, when -travelling, we beheld this dining-room still -undestroyed. Opposite the entrance on -the narrow side, stood the table of the -prior, on both sides of him the tables of -the monks, all of which were raised a step -from the floor—and when the visitor turned -round, he saw painted on the fourth, -above the doors, which are of but moderate -height, a fourth table, and Christ -and his disciples seated at it, as if they -belonged to the society. At meal times it -must have been a telling sight, when the -tables of the prior and Christ looked upon -each other as two opposite pictures, and -the monks at their places found themselves -enclosed between them. And just on this -account the skill of the artist was compelled -to take the existing tables of the -monks as a pattern. Also, the table-cloth, -with its folds still visible with its worked -stripes and tied corners, was taken from -the wash-room of the monastery. The -plates, dishes, cups, and other vessels, are -like those which the monks used.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Here was no attempt at imitating an uncertain -antiquated costume; it would have -been highly improper to stretch out the -holy company upon cushions in this place. -No, the picture must be brought near to -the present; Christ must take his last supper -with the Dominicans at Milan. Also, -in many other respects, the painting must -have produced a great effect; the thirteen -figures about ten feet above the floor, one-half -larger than life-size, take up the space -of twenty-eight feet in length. Only two -whole figures can be seen at the opposite -ends of the table, the rest are half-figures; -and here, too, the artist found his advantage -in the necessity of the circumstances. -Every moral expression belongs to the upper -part of the body, and the feet in such -cases are everywhere in the way. The -artist has created here twelve half-figures, -whose laps and knees are covered by the -table and table-cloth, but whose feet are -scarcely visible in the modest twilight beneath. -Let us now imagine ourselves in -the place; let us consider the moral repose -which prevails in such a monastic dining-hall, -and let us admire the artist who has -infused into his picture, powerful emotion, -passionate movement, and at the same time -has kept his work within the bounds of -Nature, and thus brings it in close contrast -with the nearest reality.</p> - -<p class='c006'>The means of excitement by which the -artist arouses the quiet holy group, are -the words of the Master: “There is one -among you who shall betray me!” They -are spoken—the whole company falls into -disquiet; but he inclines his head, with -looks cast down; the whole attitude, the -motion of the arms, of the hands, everything -repeats with heavenly submission -the unhappy words: Yes, it is not otherwise, -there is one among you who shall -betray me!</p> - -<p class='c006'>Before we go farther, we must point out -a happy device whereby Leonardo principally -enlivened his picture; it is the motion -of the hands; this device, however, -only an Italian could discover. With his -nation, the whole body is full of animation; -every limb participates in the expression -of feeling, of passion, even of -thought. By various motions and forms -of the hand, he expresses: “What do I -<span class='pageno' id='Page_244'>244</span>care!—Come hither!—This is a rogue! -beware of him!—He shall not live long!—This -is a main point!—Observe this well, -my hearers!” To such a national peculiarity -Leonardo, who observed every characteristic -point with the closest attention, -must have turned his careful eye. In this -respect, the present picture is unique, and -one can scarcely observe it enough. Every -look and movement perfectly correspond, -and at the same time there is a combined -and contrasted position of the limbs, comprehensible -at a glance, and wrought out in -the most praiseworthy manner.</p> - -<p class='c006'>The figures on both sides of the Saviour -may be considered by threes, and each of -these again must be thought into a unity, -placed in relation, and still held in connection -with its neighbors. First, on the -right side of Christ, are John, Judas, and -Peter. Peter the most distant, in consonance -with his violent character, when he -hears the word of the Lord, hastens up behind -Judas, who, looking up affrighted, -bends forward over the table, and holds with -his right hand firmly closed, the purse, but -with the left makes an involuntary nervous -movement, as if he would say: What’s -that? What does that mean? In the -meanwhile Peter has with his left hand -seized the right shoulder of John, who is -inclined towards him, and points to Christ, -and at the same time urges the beloved -disciple to ask who the traitor is. He -strikes a knife-handle, which he holds in -his right hand, inadvertently into the -ribs of Judas, whereby the affrighted -forward movement, which upsets the salt-cellar, -is happily brought out. This group -may be considered as the one which was -first thought out by the artist; it is the -most perfect.</p> - -<p class='c006'>If now upon the right hand of the Lord -immediate vengeance is threatened, with a -moderate degree of motion, there arises -upon his left the liveliest horror and detestation -of the treachery. James, the -elder, bends back from fear, extends his -arms, stares with his head bowed down -as one who sees before him the monster -which he has just heard of. Thomas peers -from behind his shoulder, and approaching -the Saviour, raises the index of his right -hand to his forehead. Philip, the third of -this group, rounds it off in the loveliest -manner; he has risen, bends toward the -Master, lays his hands upon his breast, and -declares with the greatest clearness: Lord, -it is not I! Thou knowest it! Thou seest -my pure heart. It is not I!</p> - -<p class='c006'>And now, the last three figures of this -group give us new material for thought; -they talk with one another about the terrible -thing which they have just heard. -Matthew, with a zealous motion, turns his -face to the left toward his two companions; -his hands, on the contrary, he stretches -with rapidity towards his master, and thus, -by the most ingenious artifice, unites his -own group with the previous one. Thaddeus -shows the most violent surprise, doubt -and suspicion; he has laid his left hand -open upon the table, and has raised the -right in a manner as if he intended to -strike his left hand with the back of the -right—a movement which one still sees in -men of nature when they wish to express -at an unexpected occurrence: Have I not -said so? Have I not always supposed it? -Simon sits at the end of the table, full of -dignity—we therefore see his whole figure; -he, the eldest of all, is clothed with rich -folds; his countenance and movements -show that he is astonished and reflecting, -not excited, scarcely moved.</p> - -<p class='c006'>If we now turn our eyes to the opposite -end of the table, we see Bartholomew, who -stands upon his right foot, with the left -crossed over it; he is supporting his inclined -body by resting both hands firmly -upon the table. He listens, probably to -hear what John will find out from the -Lord; for, in general, the incitement of -the favorite disciple seems to proceed from -this entire side. James, the younger, beside -and behind Bartholomew, lays his left -hand upon Peter’s shoulder, just as Peter -lays his upon the shoulder of John, but -James does so mildly, seeking explanation -only, whereas Peter already threatens vengeance.</p> - -<p class='c006'>And thus, as Peter reaches behind Judas, -so James the younger reaches behind Andrew, -who, as one of the most important -figures, shows with his half-raised arms, -his expanded hands in front, a decided expression -<span class='pageno' id='Page_245'>245</span>of horror, which appears only -once in this picture, while in other works -of less genius, and of less profound -thought, it recurs unfortunately only too -often.</p> -<h4 class='c012'>COPIES GENERALLY.</h4> -<p class='c005'>Before we now come to imitations of our -painting, of which the number amounts to -about thirty, we must make some reference -to the subject of copies generally. Such -did not come into use until everybody confessed -that art had reached its culminating -point, whereupon, inferior talents, looking -at the works of the greater masters, despaired -of producing by their own skill anything -similar, either in imitation of nature, -or from the idea; and art, which now -dwindled into mere handicraft, began to -repeat its own creations. This inability -on the part of most of the artists did not -remain a secret to the lovers of art, who, -not being able always to turn to the first -masters, called upon and paid inferior talents, -inasmuch as they preferred, in order -not to receive something altogether destitute -of skill, to order imitations of recognized -works, with a view to being well -served in some degree. This new procedure -was favored, from reasons of illiberality -and overhaste by owners no less than -by artists, and art lowered itself advisedly -by setting out with the purpose to copy.</p> - -<p class='c006'>In the fifteenth century, as well as in the -previous one, artists entertained a high -idea of themselves and their art, and did -not readily content themselves with repeating -the inventions of others; hence we find -no real copies dating from that period—a -circumstance to which every friend of the -history of art will do well to give heed. -Inferior arts no doubt made use of higher -patterns for smaller works, as in the case -of <i>Niello</i> and other enamelled work, and, -of course, when from religious or other -motives, a repetition was desired, people -contented themselves with an accurate imitation, -which only approximately expressed -the movement and action of the original, -without paying any close regard to -form and color. Hence in the richest galleries -we find no copy previous to the sixteenth -century.</p> - -<p class='c006'>But now came the time, when, through -the agency of a few extraordinary men—among -whom our Leonardo must be reckoned -and considered as the first—art in -every one of its parts attained to perfection; -people learned to see and to judge -better, and now the desire for imitations of -first-class work was not difficult to satisfy, -particularly in those schools to which large -numbers of scholars crowded, and in which -the works of the master were greatly in -request. And yet, at that time, this desire -was confined to smaller works which could -be easily compared with the originals and -judged. As regards larger works, the case -was quite different at that time from what -it was at a later period, because the original -cannot be compared with the copies, -and also because such orders are rare. -Thus, then, art, as well as its lovers, contented -itself with copies on a small scale, -and a great deal of liberty was allowed to -the copyist, and the results of this arbitrary -procedure showed themselves, in an -overpowering degree, in the few cases in -which copies on a large scale were desired. -These indeed were generally copies of -copies, and, what is more, generally executed -from copies on a smaller scale, worked -out far away from the original, often from -mere drawings, or even perhaps from memory. -Job-painters now increased by the -dozen, and worked for lower prices; people -made household ornaments of painting; -taste died out; copies increased and darkened -the walls of ante-chambers and stair-cases; -hungry beginners lived on poor pay, -by repeating the most important works on -every scale; yea, many painters passed -the whole of their lives in simply copying; -but even then an amount of deviation appeared -in every copy, either a notion of -the person for whom it was painted, or a -whim of the painter, or perhaps a presumptuous -wish to be original.</p> - -<p class='c006'>In addition to this came the demand for -worked tapestry, in which painting was not -content to look dignified, except when -tricked out with gold; and the most magnificent -pictures were considered meagre -and wretched, because they were grave and -simple; therefore the copyist introduced -buildings and landscapes in the background, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_246'>246</span>ornaments on the dresses, aureoles -or crowns around the heads, and further, -strangly formed children, animals, chimeras, -grotesques, and other fooleries. It -often happened, also, that an artist, who -believed in his own powers of invention, -received by the will of a client who could -not appreciate his capabilities, a commission -to copy another person’s work, and -since he did so with reluctance, he wished -to appear original here and there, and -therefore made changes or additions as -knowledge, or perhaps vanity, suggested. -Such occurrences took place of course according -to the demands of place and time. -Many figures were used for purposes quite -different from those for which they had -been intended by their first producers. -Secular subjects were, by means of a few -additions, changed into religious ones; -heathen gods and heroes had to submit to -be martyrs and evangelists. Often also, -the artist, for instruction or exercise to -himself, had copied some figure from a celebrated -work, and now he added to it something -of his own invention in order to turn -it into a saleable picture. Finally, we may -certainly ascribe a part of the corruption -of art to the discovery and abuse of copper-plate -engravings, which supplied job-painters -with crowds of foreign inventions, -so that no one any longer studied, and -painting at last reached such a low ebb that -it got mixed up with mechanical works. -In the first place, the copper-plate engravings -themselves were different from the -originals, and whoever copied them multiplied -the changes according to his own or -other peoples’ conviction or whim. The -same thing happened precisely in the case -of drawings; artists took sketches of the -most remarkable subjects in Rome and -Florence, in order to produce arbitrary -repetitions of them when they returned -home.</p> -<h4 class='c012'>COPIES OF THE SUPPER.</h4> -<p class='c005'>In view of the above, we shall be able to -judge what is to be expected, more or less, -of copies of the Supper, although the earliest -were executed contemporaneously; -for the work made a great sensation, and -other monasteries desired similar works. -Of the numerous copies consulted by the -author [Vossi] we shall occupy ourselves -here with only three, since the copies at -Weimar are taken from them; nevertheless, -at the basis of these lies a fourth, of -which, therefore, we must first speak. -<i>Marco d’Oggiono</i>, a pupil of Leonardo da -Vinci’s, though without any extensive talent, -gained the praise of his school chiefly -by his heads, although in them he is not -always equal to himself. About the year -1510, he executed a copy on a small scale, -intending to use it afterwards for a copy -on a larger scale. It was, according to -tradition, not quite accurate; he made it, -however, the basis of a larger copy which -is in the now suppressed monastery at -Castellazzo, likewise in the dining-hall of -the monks of those days. Everything -about it shows careful work; nevertheless -the usual arbitrariness prevails in the details. -And although Vossi has not been -able to say much in its praise, he does not -deny that it is a remarkable monument, and -that the character of several of the heads, -in which the expression is not exaggerated, -is deserving of praise. Vossi has copied -it, and on comparison of the three copies -we shall be able to pronounce judgment -upon it from our own observation.</p> - -<p class='c006'>A second copy, of which we likewise -have the heads copied before us, is found -in fresco on the wall at Ponte Capriasca; -it is referred to the year 1565, and ascribed -to Pierro Lovino. Its merits we shall learn -in the sequel; it has the peculiarity that -the names of the figures are written underneath, -a piece of foresight which aids us -in arriving at a correct characterization of -the different physiognomies.</p> - -<p class='c006'>The gradual destruction of the original -we have described in sufficient detail, and -it was already in a very wretched condition -when, in 1612, Cardinal Frederico -Borromeo, a zealous friend of art, endeavored -to prevent the entire loss of the work, -and commissioned a Milanese, Andrea -Bianchi, surnamed Vespino, to execute a -full-sized copy. This artist first tried his -skill on a few of the heads; being successful -in these, he proceeded and copied the -whole of the figures, separately however, -and afterwards put them together with the -<span class='pageno' id='Page_247'>247</span>greatest possible care; the picture is at -present to be found in the Ambrosiana library -at Milan, and lies mainly at the basis -of the most recent copy, executed by Vossi. -This was executed on the following occasion.</p> -<h4 class='c012'>LATEST COPY.</h4> -<p class='c005'>The Kingdom of Italy was decreed, and -Prince Eugène, following the example of -Luigi Sforza, wished to glorify the beginning -of his reign by patronizing the fine -arts. Luigi had ordered a representation -of the Last Supper of Leonardo; Eugène -resolved to restore, as far as possible, the -painting that had been going to wreck for -three hundred years in a new picture, -which, in order that it might be indestructible, -was to be done in mosaic, for which -preparation had been made in an already -existing institution.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Vossi immediately receives the commission, -and commences in the beginning of -May, 1807. He finds it advisable to execute -a full-sized cartoon, takes up anew the -studies of his youth, and applies himself entirely -to Leonardo, studies his art-remains -and his writings, particularly the latter, -because he is persuaded that a man who -has produced such splendid works must -have worked on the most decided and advantageous -principles. He had made drawings -of the heads in the copy at Ponte Capriasca, -as well as of some other parts of -it, likewise of the heads and hands of the -Castellazzo copy, and of that of Bianchi. -Then he makes drawings of everything -coming from Da Vinci himself, and even -of what comes from some of his contemporaries. -Moreover he looks about for all -the extant copies, and succeeds in making -more or less acquaintance with twenty-seven; -drawings and manuscripts of Da -Vinci’s are kindly sent to him from all quarters. -In the working out of his cartoon, -he adheres principally to the Ambrosiana -copy; it alone is as large as the original. -Bianchi, by means of thread-nets and -transparent paper, had endeavored to give -a most accurate copy of the original, -which, although already very much injured, -was not yet painted over.</p> - -<p class='c006'>In the end of October, 1807, the cartoon -is ready; canvass grounded uniformly in -one piece, and the whole immediately -sketched out. Hereupon, in order in some -measure to regulate his tints, Vossi painted -the small portion of sky and landscape, -which, on account of the depth and purity -of the colors in the original, had still remained -fresh and brilliant. Hereupon he -paints the head of Christ and those of the -three apostles at his left, and as for the -dresses, he first paints those about whose -colors he had first arrived at certainly, with -a view to selecting the rest according to the -principles of the master and his own taste. -Thus he covered the whole of the canvass, -guided by careful reflection, and kept his -colors of uniform height and strength.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Unfortunately, in this damp, deserted -place, he was seized with an illness which -compelled him to put a stop to his exertions; -nevertheless, he employed this interval -in arranging drawings, copper-plate -engravings, partly with a view to the Supper -itself, partly to other works of the master; -at the same time he was favored by -fortune, which brought him a collection of -drawings, purporting to come from Cardinal -Cæsar Monti, and containing, among -other treasures, remarkable productions of -Leonardo himself. He studied even the -authors contemporaneous with Leonardo, -in order to make use of their opinions and -wishes, and looked about him for everything -that could further his design. Thus -he took advantage of his sickness, and at -last attained strength to set about his work -anew.</p> - -<p class='c006'>No artist or friend of art will leave unread -the account of how he managed the -details, how he thought out the characters -of the faces and their expression, and even -the motions of the hands, and how he represented -them. In the same manner he -thinks out the dishes, the room, the back-ground, -and shows that he has not decided -upon any part without the strongest reasons. -What care he takes about representing -the feet under the table in correct attitudes, -because this portion of the original -had long been destroyed, and in the copies -had been carelessly treated!</p> - -<hr class='c018' /> - -<p class='c006'>Of the relation of the two copies—the -<span class='pageno' id='Page_248'>248</span>merits of the third can be shown only to -the eye, not to the mind in words—we shall -state in a few words the most essential -and most decided points, until we shall be -fortunate enough, as we shall perhaps one -day be, to be able to lay copies of these interesting -sheets before the friends of art.</p> -<h4 class='c012'>COMPARISON.</h4> -<p class='c005'><i>St. Bartholomew</i>, manly youth, sharp -profile, compressed, clear face, eyelid and -brow pressed down, mouth closed, as if -listening with suspicion, a character completely -circumscribed within itself. In Vespino’s -copy no trace of individual characteristic -features, a general kind of drawing-book -face, listening with open mouth. Vossi -has approved of this opening of the lips, -and retained it, a procedure to which we -should be unable to lend our assent.</p> - -<p class='c006'><i>St. James</i> the younger, likewise profile, -relationship to Christ unmistakable, receives -from the protruded, slightly opened -lips, something individual, which again -cancels this similarity. According to Vespino, -almost an ordinary, academical Christ, -the mouth opened rather in astonishment -than in inquiry. Our assertion that Bartholomew -must have his mouth closed, receives -support from the fact that his neighbor -has his mouth open. Such a repetition -Leonardo would never have endured; on -the contrary, the next figure,</p> - -<p class='c006'><i>St. Andrew</i> has his mouth shut. Like -persons advanced in life, he presses the -lower lip rather against the upper. In the -copy of Marco, this head has something -peculiar, not to be expressed in words; -the eyes are introverted; the mouth, -though shut, is still <i>naïve</i>. The outline of -the left side against the back ground forms -a beautiful silhouette; enough of the other -side of the forehead (eye, nose and beard) -is seen to give the head a roundness and -a peculiar life; on the contrary, Vespino -suppresses the left eye altogether, but -shows so much of the left temple and of -the side of the beard as to produce in the -uplifted face a full bold expression, which -is indeed striking, but which would seem -more suitable to clenched fists than to -open hands stretched forward.</p> - -<p class='c006'><i>Judas</i> locked up within himself, frightened, -looking anxiously up and back, profile -strongly dented, not exaggerated, by -no means an ugly formation; for good -taste would not tolerate any real monster -in the proximity of pure and upright men. -Vespino, on the other hand, has actually -represented such a monster, and it cannot -be denied that, regarded by itself, this -head has much merit; it expresses vividly -a mischievously bold malignity, and would -make itself eminently conspicuous in a -mob triumphing over an <i>Ecce Homo</i>, and -crying out “Crucify! crucify!” It might -be made to pass for Mephistopheles in his -most devilish moment. But of affright or -dread, combined with dissimulation, indifference -and contempt, there is not a -trace; the bristly hair fits in with the <i>tout -ensemble</i> admirably; its exaggeration, however, -is matched only by the force and violence -of the rest of Vespino’s heads.</p> - -<p class='c006'><i>St. Peter.</i>—Very problematical features. -Even in Marco, it is merely an expression -of pain; of wrath or menace there is no -sign; there is also a certain anxiety expressed, -and here Leonardo may not have -been at one even with himself; for cordial -sympathy with a beloved master, and -threatening against a traitor, are with difficulty -united in one countenance. Nevertheless, -Cardinal Borromeo asserts that -he saw such a miracle in his time. However -pleasant it might be to believe this, -we have reason to suppose that the art-loving -cardinal expressed his own feeling -rather than what was in the picture; -for otherwise we should be unable to defend -our friend Vespino, whose Peter has -an unpleasant expression. He looks like a -stern Capuchin monk, whose Lent sermon -is intended to rouse sinners. It is strange -that Vespino has given him bushy hair, -since the Peter of Marco shows a beautiful -head of short, curled tresses.</p> - -<p class='c006'><i>St. John</i> is represented by Marco in the -spirit of Da Vinci; the beautiful roundish -face, somewhat inclined to oval, the hair -smooth towards the top of the head, but -curling gently downwards, particularly -where it bends round Peter’s inserted -hand, are most lovely; what we see of the -dark of the eye is turned away from Peter—a -marvellously fine piece of observation, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_249'>249</span>in that while he is listening with the intensest -feeling to the secret speech of his -neighbor, he turns away his eyes from him. -According to Vespino, he is a comfortable-looking, -quiet, almost sleepy youth, without -any trace of sympathy.</p> - -<p class='c006'>We turn now to the left side of Christ, -in order that the figure of the Saviour may -come last in our description.</p> - -<p class='c006'><i>St. Thomas’</i> head and right hand, whose -upraised fore-finger is bent slightly toward -his brow to imply reflection. This movement, -which is so much in keeping with a -person who is suspicious or in doubt, has -been hitherto misunderstood, and a hesitating -disciple looked upon as threatening. -In Vespino’s copy, likewise, he is reflective -enough, but as the artist has again left -out the retreating right eye, the result is a -perpendicular, monotonous profile, without -any remnant of the protruding, searching -elements of the older copies.</p> - -<p class='c006'><i>St. James</i> the Elder.—The most violent -agitation of the features, the most gaping -mouth, horror in his eye; an original venture -of Leonardo’s; yet we have reason to -believe that this head, likewise, has been -remarkably succesful with Marco. The -working out is magnificent, whereas in the -copy of Vespino all is lost; attitude, manner, -mien, everything has vanished, and -dwindles down into a sort of indifferent -generality.</p> - -<p class='c006'><i>St. Philip</i>, amiable and invaluable, resembles -Raffaelle’s youths, collected on the -left side of <i>The School of Athens</i> about -Bramante. Vespino has, unfortunately, -again suppressed the right eye, and as he -could not deny that there was something -more than profile in the thing, he has produced -an ambiguous, strangely inclined -head.</p> - -<p class='c006'><i>St. Matthew</i>, young, of undesigning -nature, with curly hair, an anxious expression -in the slightly opened mouth, -in which the teeth, which are visible, express -a sort of slight ferocity in keeping -with the violent movement of the figure. -Of all this nothing remains in Vespino; he -gazes before him, stiff and expressionless; -one does not receive the remotest notion -of the violent movement of the body.</p> - -<p class='c006'><i>St. Thaddeus</i>, according to Marco, is -likewise quite an invaluable head; anxiety, -suspicion, vexation, are expressed in -every feature. The unity of this agitation -of the countenance is extremely fine, and -is entirely in keeping with the movement -of the hands which we have already explained. -In Vespino, everything is again -reduced to a general level; he has also -made the head still more unmeaning by -turning it too much towards the spectator, -whereas, according to Marco, hardly a -quarter of the left side is seen, whereby -the suspicious, askance-looking element is -admirably portrayed.</p> - -<p class='c006'><i>St. Simon</i> the Elder, wholly in profile, -placed opposite the likewise pure profile of -young Matthew. In him the protruding -under lip which Leonardo had such a partiality -for in old faces, is most exaggerated; -but, along with the grave, overhanging -brow, produces the most wonderful -effect of vexation and reflection, in sharp -contrast with the passionate movement of -young Matthew. In Vespino he is a good-natured -old man in his dotage, incapable -of taking any interest in even the most -important occurrence that might take place -in his presence.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Having thus now thrown light upon the -apostles, we turn to the form of <i>Christ</i> -himself. And here again we are met by -the legend, that Leonardo was unable to -finish either Christ or Judas, which we -readily believe, since, from his method, it -was impossible for him to put the last -touch to those two extremes of portraiture. -Wretched enough, in the original, after all -the darkening processes it had to undergo, -may have been the appearance presented -by the features of Christ, which were only -sketched. How little Vespino found remaining, -may be gleaned from the fact -that he brought out a colossal head of -Christ, quite at variance with the purpose of -Da Vinci, without paying the least attention -to the inclination of the head, which -ought of necessity to have been made parallel -with the inclination of John’s. Of -the expression we shall say nothing; the -features are regular, good-natured, intelligent, -like those we are accustomed to see -in Christ, but without the very smallest -particle of sensibility, so that we should -<span class='pageno' id='Page_250'>250</span>almost be unable to tell what New Testament -story this head would be welcome -to.</p> - -<p class='c006'>We are here met and aided by the circumstance -that connoisseurs assert, that -Leonardo himself painted the head of the -Saviour at Castellazzo, and ventured to do -in another’s work what he had not been -willing to undertake in his own principal -figure. As we have not the original before -us, we must say of the copy that it agrees -entirely with the conception which we form -of a noble man whose breast is weighed -down by poignant suffering of soul, which -he has endeavored to alleviate by a familiar -word, but has thereby only made matters -worse instead of better.</p> - -<p class='c006'>By these processes of comparison, then, -we have come sufficiently near the method -of this extraordinary artist, such as he has -clearly explained and demonstrated it in -writings and pictures, and fortunately it is -in our power to take a step still further in -advance. There is, namely, preserved in -the Ambrosiana library a drawing incontestably -executed by Leonardo, upon bluish -paper, with a little white and colored chalk. -Of this the chevalier Vossi has executed -the most accurate <i>fac-simile</i>, which is also -before us. A noble youthful face, drawn -from nature, evidently with a view to the -head of Christ at the Supper. Pure, regular -features, smooth hair, the head bent to -the left side, the eyes cast down, the mouth -half opened, the <i>tout ensemble</i> brought -into the most marvellous harmony by a -slight touch of sorrow. Here indeed we -have only the man who does not conceal a -suffering of soul, but the problem, how, -without extinguishing this promise, at the -same time to express sublimity, independence, -power, the might of godhead, is one -which even the most gifted earthly pencil -might well find hard to solve. In this -youthful physiognomy which hovers between -Christ and John, we see the highest -attempt to hold fast by nature when the -supermundane is in question.</p> -<h3 class='c001'>PAUL JANET AND HEGEL.<a id='r65' /><a href='#f65' class='c015'><sup>[65]</sup></a></h3> -<p class='c009'>[In the following article the passages quoted are turned into English, and the original -French is omitted for the sake of brevity and lucid arrangement. As the work reviewed is -accessible to most readers, a reference to the pages from which we quote will answer all -purposes.—<span class='sc'>Editor.</span>]</p> - -<p class='c010'>Since the death of Hegel in 1831, his -philosophy has been making a slow but -regular progress into the world at large. -At home in Germany it is spoken of as -having a right wing, a left wing, and a -centre; its disciples are very numerous -when one counts such widely different philosophers -as Rosenkrantz, Michelet, Kuno -Fischer, Erdmann, J. H. Fichte, Strauss, -Feuerbach, and their numerous followers. -Sometimes when one hears who constitute -a “wing” of the Hegelian school, he is -reminded of the “<i>lucus a non</i>” principle -of naming, or rather of misnaming things. -But Hegelianism has, as we said, made its -way into other countries. In France we -have the Æsthetics “partly translated and -partly analyzed,” by Professor Bénard; -the logic of the small Encyclopædia, translated -with copious notes, by Professor Vera, -who has gone bravely on, with what seems -with him to be a work of love, and given -us the “Philosophy of Nature” and the -“Philosophy of Spirit,” and promises us -the “Philosophy of Religion”—all accompanied -with abundant introduction and -commentary. We hear of others very -much influenced by Hegel: M. Taine, for -example, who writes brilliant essays. In -English, too, we have a translation of the -“Philosophy of History,” (in Bohn’s Library;) -a kind of translation and analysis -of the first part of the third volume of the -Logic, (Sloman & Wallon, London, 1855); -and an extensive and elaborate work on -“The Secret of Hegel,” by James Hutchison -Stirling. We must not forget to -mention a translation of Schwegler’s History -of Philosophy—a work drawn principally -<span class='pageno' id='Page_251'>251</span>from Hegel’s labors—by our American -Professor Seelye: and also (just published) -a translation of the same book by -the author of the “Secret of Hegel.” -Articles treating of Hegel are to be found -by the score—seek them in every text-book -on philosophy, in every general Cyclopædia, -and in numerous works written for -or against German Philosophy. Some of -these writers tell us in one breath that -Hegel was a man of prodigious genius, and -in the next they convict him of confounding -the plainest of all common sense distinctions. -Some of them find him the profoundest -of all thinkers, while others cannot -“make a word of sense out of him.” -There seems to be a general understanding -in this country and England on one point: -all agree that he was a Pantheist. Theodore -Parker, Sir William Hamilton, Mansell, -Morell, and even some of the English -defenders of Hegelianism admit this. Hegel -holds, say some, that God is a <i>becoming</i>; -others say that he holds God to be -<i>pure being</i>. These men are careful men -apparently—but only <i>apparently</i>, for it -must be confessed that if Hegel has written -any books at all, they are, every one of -them, devoted to the task of showing the -inadequacy of such abstractions when -made the highest principle of things.</p> - -<p class='c006'>The ripest product of the great German -movement in philosophy, which took -place at the beginning of this century, Hegel’s -philosophy is likewise the concretest -system of thought the world has seen. -This is coming to be the conviction of -thinkers more and more every day as they -get glimpses into particular provinces of -his labor. Bénard thinks the Philosophy -of Art the most wonderful product of modern -thinking, and speaks of the Logic—which -he does not understand—as a futile -and perishable production. Another thinks -that his Philosophy of History is immortal, -and a third values extravagantly his Philosophy -of Religion. But the one who -values his Logic knows how to value all -his labors. The History of Philosophy is -the work that impresses us most with the -unparalleled wealth of his thought; he is -able to descend through all history, and -give to each philosopher a splendid thought -as the centre of his system, and yet never -is obliged to confound different systems, -or fail in showing the superior depth of -modern thought. While we are admiring -the depth and clearness of Pythagoras, we -are surprised and delighted to find the -great thought of Heraclitus, but Anaxagoras -is a new surprise; the Sophists -come before us bearing a world-historical -significance, and Socrates, Plato, and Aristotle -lead us successively to heights such -as we had not dreamed attainable by any -thinking.</p> - -<p class='c006'>But thought is no <i>immediate</i> function, -like the process of breathing or sleeping, -or fancy-making: it is the profoundest -mediation of spirit, and he who would get -an insight into the speculative thinkers of -whatever time, must labor as no mere -flesh and blood can labor, but only as -spirit can labor: with agony and sweat of -blood. A philosophy which should explain -the great complex of the universe, could -hardly be expected to be transparent to uncultured -minds at the first glance. Thus it -happens that many critics give us such -discouraging reports upon their return -from a short excursion into the true wonder-land -of philosophy. The Eternal Verities -are miraculous only to those eyes -which have gazed long upon them after -shutting out the glaring sunlight of the -senses.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Those who criticise a philosophy must -imply a philosophical method of their own, -and thus measure themselves while they -measure others. A literary man who criticises -Goethe, or Shakespeare, or Homer, -is very apt to lay himself bare to the shaft -of the adversary. There are, however, in -our time, a legion of writers who pass -judgment as flippantly upon a system of -the most comprehensive scope—and which -they confess openly their inability to understand—as -upon a mere opinion uttered -in a “table-talk.” Even some men of -great reputation give currency to great -errors. Sir William Hamilton, in his notes -to Reid’s Philosophy of “Touch,” once -quoted the passage from the second part -of Fichte’s <i>Bestimmung des Menschen</i>, -(wherein onesided idealism is pushed to -its downfall,) in order to show that -<span class='pageno' id='Page_252'>252</span>Fichte’s Philosophy ended in Nihilism. -The <i>Bestimmung des Menschen</i> was a mere -popular writing in which Fichte adopted -the Kantian style of exhibiting the self-refutation -of sense and reflection, in order -to rest all ultimate truth in the postulates -of the Practical Reason. Accordingly he -shows the practical results of his own system -in the third part of the work in question, -and enforces the soundest ethical -views of life. He never thought of presenting -his theoretical philosophy in that -work. Thus, too, in Hamilton’s refutation -of Cousin and Schelling: he polemicises -against all “Doctrines of the Absolute,” -saying that <i>to think is to limit; hence to -think God would be to determine or limit -Him</i>; and hence is inferred the impossibility -of thinking God as he truly is. This, -of course, is not pushed to its results by -his followers, for then its skeptical tendency -would become obvious. Religion -demands that we shall do the Will of God; -this Will must, therefore, be known. But, -again, Will is the realization or self-determination -of one’s nature—from it the character -proceeds. Thus in knowing God’s -will we know his character or nature. If -we cannot do this at all, no religion is possible; -and in proportion as Religion is -possible, the Knowledge of God is possible.</p> - -<p class='c006'>If it be said that the Absolute is unthinkable, -in this assertion it is affirmed -that all predicates or categories of thought -are inapplicable to the Absolute, for to -think is to predicate of some object, the -categories of thought; and in so far as -these categories apply, to that extent is -the Absolute thinkable. Since <i>Existence</i> -is a category of thought, it follows from -this position that to predicate existence of -the Absolute is impossible; “a questionable -predicament” truly for the Absolute. -According to this doctrine—that all thought -is limitation—God is made Pure Being, or -Pure Thought. This is also the result of -Indian Pantheism, and of all Pantheism; -this doctrine concerning the mere negative -character of thought, in fact, underlies -the Oriental tenet that consciousness is -finitude. To be consistent, all Hamiltonians -should become Brahmins, or, at least, -join some sect of modern Spiritualists, and -thus embrace a religion that corresponds -to their dogma. However, let us not be so -unreasonable as to insist upon the removal -of inconsistency—it is all the good they -have.</p> - -<p class='c006'>After all this preliminary let us proceed -at once to examine the work of Professor -Paul Janet, which we have named at the -head of our article: “<i>Essai sur la dialectique -dans Platon et dans Hegel</i>.”</p> - -<p class='c006'>After considering the Dialectic of Plato -in its various aspects, and finding that it -rests on the principle of contradiction, M. -Janet grapples Hegel, and makes, in order, -the following points:</p> - -<p class='c006'>I. <span class='sc'>Terminology.</span>—He tells us that the -great difficulty that lies in the way of comprehending -German Philosophy is the abstract -terminology employed, which is, in -fact, mere scholasticism preserved and applied -to modern problems. No nation of -modern times, except the Germans, have -preserved the scholastic form. He traces -the obscurity of modern German philosophy -to “Aristotle subtilized by the -schools.” This he contrasts with the -“simple and natural philosophy of the -Scotch.” [This “simplicity” arises from -the fact that the Scotch system holds that -immediate sensuous knowing is valid. Of -course this implies that they hold that the -immediate existence of objects is a true -existence—that whatever is, exists thus -and so without any further grounds. This -is the denial of all philosophy, for it -utterly ignores any occasion whatever for -it. But it is no less antagonistic to the -“natural science” of the physicist: he, -the physicist, finds the immediate object of -the senses to be no permanent or true -phase, but only a transitory one; the object -is involved with other beings—even -the remotest star—and changes when they -change. It is force and matter (two very -abstract categories) that are to him the -permanent and true existence. But force -and matter cannot be seen by the senses; -they can only be thought.] Our author -proceeds to trace the resemblance between -Hegel and Wolff: both consider and analyze -the pure concepts, beginning with -Being. To M. Janet this resemblance -goes for much, but he admits that “Hegel -<span class='pageno' id='Page_253'>253</span>has modified this order (that of Wolff) and -rendered it more systematic.” If one -asks “<i>How</i> more systematic?” he will not -find the answer. “The scholastic <i>form</i> is -retained, but not the <i>thought</i>,” we are -told. That such statements are put forward, -even in a book designed for mere -surface-readers may well surprise us. -That the mathematical method of Wolff or -Spinoza—a method which proceeds by -definitions and external comparison, holding -meanwhile to the principle of contradiction—that -such a method should be -confounded with that of Hegel which proceeds -dialectically, i. e. through the internal -movement of the categories to their -contradiction or limit, shows the student -of philosophy at once that we are -dealing with a <i>littérateur</i>, and not with a -philosopher. So far from retaining the -form of Wolff it is the great object of Hegel -(see his long prefaces to the “Logik” -and the “Phänomenologie des Geistes”) -to supplant that form by what he considers -the true method—that of the <i>objective</i> -itself. The objective method is -to be distinguished from the arbitrary -method of external reflection which selects -its point of view somewhere outside of the -object considered, and proceeds to draw -relations and comparisons which, however -edifying, do not give us any exhaustive -knowledge. It is also to be distinguished -from the method of mere empirical observation -which collects without discrimination -a mass of characteristics, accidental -and necessary, and never arrives at -a vivifying soul that unites and subordinates -the multiplicity. The objective -method seizes somewhat in its definition -and traces it through all the phases which -necessarily unfold when the object is -placed in the form of <i>relation to itself</i>. -An object which cannot survive the process -of self-relation, perishes, i. e. it leads -to a more concrete object which is better -able to endure. This method, as we shall -presently see, is attributed to Plato by M. -Janet.</p> - -<p class='c006'>The only resemblance that remains to be -noted between the scholastics and Hegel is -this: they both treat of subtle distinctions -in thought, while our modern “common -sense” system goes only so far as to distinguish -very general and obvious differences. -This is a questionable merit, and -the less ado made about it by such as take -pride in it, the better for them.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Our author continues: “The principal -difficulty of the system of Kant is our -ignorance of the ancient systems of logic. -The Critique of Pure Reason is modelled -on the scholastic system.” Could we have -a more conclusive refutation of this than -the fact that the great professors of the -ancient systems grossly misunderstand -Kant, and even our essayist himself mistakes -the whole purport of the same! -Hear him contrast Kant with Hegel: “Kant -sees in Being only the form of Thought, -while Hegel sees in Thought only the form -of Being.” This he says is the great difference -between the Germans and French, -interpreting it to mean: “that the former -pursues the route of deduction, and the -latter that of experience”!</p> - -<p class='c006'>He wishes to consider Hegel under three -heads: 1st, The Beginning; 2d, the dialectical -deduction of the Becoming, and -3d, the term Dialectic.</p> - -<p class='c006'>II. <span class='sc'>The Beginning.</span>—According to M. -Janet, Hegel must have used this syllogism -in order to find the proper category with -which to commence the Logic.</p> - -<p class='c006'>(a) The Beginning should presuppose -nothing;</p> - -<p class='c006'>(b) Pure Being presupposes nothing;</p> - -<p class='c006'>(c) Hence Pure Being is the Beginning.</p> - -<p class='c006'>This syllogism he shows to be inconclusive: -for there are two beginnings, (a) in -the order of knowledge, (b) in the order of -existence. Are they the same? He answers: -“No, the thinking being—because -it thinks—knows itself before it knows the -being which it thinks.” Subject and object -being identical in that act, M. Janet -in effect says, “it thinks itself before it -thinks itself”—an argument that the scholastics -would hardly have been guilty of! -The beginning is really made, he says, with -internal or external <i>experience</i>. He quotes -(page 316) from Hegel a passage asserting -that <i>mediation</i> is essential to knowing. -This he construes to mean that “the determined -or concrete (the world of experience) -is the essential condition of knowing!” -<span class='pageno' id='Page_254'>254</span>Through his misapprehension of -the term “mediation,” we are prepared -for all the errors that follow, for “mediation -in knowing” means with Hegel that -it involves a <i>process</i>, and hence can be true -only in the form of a system. The “internal -and external experience” appertains -to what Hegel calls immediate knowing. -It is therefore not to be wondered at that -M. Janet thinks Hegel contradicts himself -by holding Pure Being to be the Beginning, -and afterwards affirming mediation -to be necessary. He says (page 317), -“In the order of knowing it is the mediate -which is necessarily first, while in the -order of existence the immediate is the -commencement.” Such a remark shows -him to be still laboring on the first problem -of Philosophy, and without any light, for -no <i>Speculative</i> Philosopher (like Plato, -Aristotle, Leibnitz, or Hegel) ever held -that Pure Being—or the immediate—is -the first in the order of existence, but -rather that God or Spirit (self-thinking, -“pure act,” Νοῦς, “Logos,” &c.) is the -first in the order of existence. In fact, -M. Janet praises Plato and Aristotle for -this very thing at the end of his volume, -and thereby exhibits the unconsciousness -of his procedure. Again, “The pure -thought is the end of philosophy, and not -its beginning.” If he means by this that -the culture of consciousness ends in arriving -at pure thought or philosophy, we -have no objection to offer, except to the -limiting of the application of the term -Philosophy to its preliminary stage, which -is called the Phenomenology of Spirit. -The arrival at pure thought marks the beginning -of the use of terms in a universal -sense, and hence is the beginning of philosophy -proper. But M. Janet criticises -the distinction made by Hegel between -Phenomenology and Psychology, and instances -Maine de Biran as one who writes -Psychology in the sense Hegel would write -Phenomenology. But M. Biran merely -manipulates certain unexplained phenomena,—like -the Will, for example—in order -to derive categories like force, cause, &c. -But Hegel shows in his Phenomenology the -dialectical unfolding of consciousness -through all its phases, starting from the -immediate certitude of the senses. He -shows how certitude becomes knowledge of -truth, and wherein it differs from it. But -M. Janet (p. 324) thinks that Hegel’s system, -beginning in empirical Psychology, climbs -to pure thought, “and then draws up the -ladder after it.”</p> - -<p class='c006'>III. <span class='sc'>The Becoming.</span>—We are told by the -author that consciousness determining itself -as Being, determines itself as <i>a</i> being, -and not as <i>the</i> being. If this be so we -cannot think <i>pure being</i> at all. Such an -assertion amounts to denying the universal -character of the Ego. If the position stated -were true, we could think neither being -nor any other object.</p> - -<p class='c006'>On page 332, he says, “This contradiction -(of Being and non-being) which in -the ordinary logic would be the negative -of the <i>posited notion</i>, is, in the logic of -Hegel, only an excitant or stimulus, which -somehow determines spirit to find a third -somewhat in which it finds the other conciliated.” -He is not able to see any procedure -at all. He sees the two opposites, -and thinks that Hegel empirically hunts -out a concept which implies both, and substitutes -it for them. M. Janet thinks (pp. -336-7) that Hegel has exaggerated the difficulties -of conceiving the identity of Being -and nought. (p. 338) “If the difference -of Being and nought can be neither -expressed nor defined, if they are as identical -as different—if, in short, the idea of -Being is only the idea of the pure void, I will -say, not merely that Being transforms itself -into Nothing, or passes into its contrary; -I will say that there are not two -contraries, but only one term which I have -falsely called Being in the thesis, but -which is in reality only Non-being without -restriction—the pure zero.” He quotes -from Kuno Fischer (p. 340) the following -remarks applicable here:</p> - -<p class='c016'>“If Being were in reality the pure void as -it is ordinarily taken, Non-being would not express -the same void a second time; but it -would then be the non-void, i. e. the abhorrence -of the void, or the immanent contradiction -of the void.”—(and again from his “Logik -und Metaphysik” II. § 29): “The logical Being -contradicts itself; for thought vanishes in -the immovable repose of Being. But as Being -comes only from thought (for it is the act of -thought), it contradicts thus itself in destroying -thought. Consequently thought manifests -<span class='pageno' id='Page_255'>255</span>itself as the negation of Being—that is to say, -as <i>Non-being</i>. The Non-being (logical) is not -the total suppression of Being—the pure zero—it -is not the mathematical opposition of Being -to itself as a negative opposed to a positive, -but it is the dialectical negative of itself, -the immanent contradiction of Being. Being -contradicts itself, hence is Non-being, and in -the concept of Non-being, thought discovers -the immanent contradiction of Being—thought -manifests itself at first as Being, and in turn -the logical Being manifests itself as Non-being; -thought can hence say, “I am the Being which -is not.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Such,” continues our author, “is the -deduction of M. Fischer. It seems to me -very much inferior in clearness to that -of Hegel.” How he could say this is -very mysterious when we find him denying -all validity to Hegel’s demonstration. Although -Fischer’s explanation is mixed—partly -dialectical and partly psychological—yet, -as an explanation, it is correct. -But as psychology should not be dragged -into Logic, which is the evolution of the -forms of pure thinking, we must hold -strictly to the dialectic if we would see the -“Becoming.” The psychological explanation -gets no further than the relation of -Being and nought as concepts. The Hegelian -thought on this point is not widely -different from that of Gorgias, as given us -by Sextus Empiricus, nor from that of Plato -in the Sophist. Let us attempt it here:</p> - -<p class='c006'>Being is the pure simple; as such it is -considered under the form of self-relation. -But as it is wholly undetermined, and has -no content, it is pure nought or absolute -negation. As such it is the negation by -itself or the negation of itself, and hence -its own opposite or Being. Thus the simple -falls through self-opposition into duality, -and this again becomes simple if we -attempt to hold it asunder, or give it any -validity by itself. Thus if Being is posited -as having validity in and by itself without -determination, (<i>omnis determinatio est negatio</i>), -it becomes a pure void in nowise -different from nought, for difference is determination, -and neither Being nor nought -possess it. What is the validity of the -nought? A negative is a relative, and a -negative by itself is a negative related to -itself, which is a self-cancelling. Thus -Being and nought, posited objectively as -having validity, prove dissolving forms and -pass over into each other. Being is a <i>ceasing</i> -and nought is a <i>beginning</i>, and these -are the two forms of <i>Becoming</i>. The Becoming, -dialectically considered, proves -itself inadequate likewise.</p> - -<p class='c006'>IV. <span class='sc'>The Dialectic.</span>—To consider an -object dialectically we have merely to give -it universal validity; if it contradicts itself -then, <i>we</i> are not in anywise concerned for -the result; we will simply stand by and accept -the result, without fear that the true -will not appear in the end. The negative -turned against itself makes short work of -itself; it is only when the subjective reflection -tries to save it by hypotheses and reservations -that a merely negative result is -obtained.</p> - -<p class='c006'>(Page 369): “In Spinozism the development -of Being is Geometric; in the System -of Hegel it is organic.” What could -have tempted him to use these words, it is -impossible to say, unless it was the deep-seated -national proclivity for epigrammatic -statements. This distinction means nothing -less (in the mouth of its original author) -than what we have already given as -the true difference between Wolff’s and -Hegel’s methods; but M. Janet has long -since forgotten his earlier statements. -(Page 369) He says, “Hegel’s method is a -faithful expression of the movement of -nature,” from which he thinks Hegel derived -it empirically!</p> - -<p class='c006'>On page 372 he asks: “Who proves to -us that the dialectic stops at <i>Spirit</i> as its -last term? Why can I not conceive a spirit -absolutely superior to mine, in whom the -identity between subject and object, the -intelligible and intelligence would be more -perfect than it is with this great Philosopher -[Hegel]? ***** In fact, every -philosopher is a man, and so far forth is -full of obscurity and feebleness.” Spirit -is the last term in philosophy for the reason -that it stands in complete self-relation, -and hence contains its antithesis within -itself; if it could stand in opposition to -anything else, then it would contain a contradiction, -and be capable of transition -into a higher. M. Janet asks in effect: -“Who proves that the dialectic stops at -God as the highest, and why cannot I conceive -a higher?” Judging from his attempt -<span class='pageno' id='Page_256'>256</span>at understanding Hegel, however, he is not -in a fair way to conceive “a spirit in whom -the identity between subject and object” -is more perfect than in Hegel. “What -hinders” is his own culture, his own self; -“<i>Du gleichst dem Geist den du begreifst, -nicht mir</i>,” said the World-spirit to Faust.</p> - -<p class='c006'>He asks, (p. 374): “When did the ‘pure -act’ commence?” From Eternity; it always -commences, and is always complete, -says Hegel. “According to Hegel, God -is made from nought, by means of the -World.” Instead of this, Hegel holds that -God is self-created, and the world eternally -created by him (the Eternally-begotten -Son). “What need has God of Nature?” -God is Spirit; hence conscious; -hence he makes himself an object to himself; -in this act he creates nature; hence -Nature is His reflection. (P. 386): “The -Absolute in Hegel is spirit only on condition -that it thinks, and thinks <i>itself</i>; -hence it is not <i>essentially</i> Spirit, but only -<i>accidentally</i>.” To “<i>think itself</i>” is to be -conscious, and, without this, God would -have no personality; and hence if Hegel -were to hold any other doctrine than the -one attributed to him, he would be a Pantheist. -But these things are not mere -dogmas with Hegel; they appear as the -logical results of the most logical of systems. -“But in Plato, God is a Reason <i>in -activity</i>, a living thought.” M. Janet mentions -this to show Plato’s superiority; he -thinks that it is absurd for Hegel to attribute -<i>thinking</i> to God, but thinks the same -thing to be a great merit in Plato. (P. -392): “Behold the Platonic deduction -[or dialectic]: being given a pure idea, he -shows that this idea, if it were <i>all alone</i>, -[i. e. made universal, or placed in self-relation, -or posited as valid for itself,] -would be contradictory of itself, and consequently -could not be. Hence, if it exists, -it is on condition that it mingles with -another idea. Take, for example, the -multiple: by itself, it loses itself in the -indiscernible, for it would be impossible -without unity.” This would do very well -for a description of the Dialectic in Hegel -if he would lay more stress on the positive -side of the result. Not merely does the -“pure idea mingle with another”—i. e. -pass over to its opposite—but it <i>returns</i> -into itself by the continuation of its own -movement, and thereby reaches a concrete -stage. Plato sometimes uses this complete -dialectical movement, and ends affirmatively; -sometimes he uses only the partial -movement and draws negative conclusions.</p> - -<p class='c006'>How much better M. Janet’s book might -have been—we may be allowed to remark -in conclusion—had he possessed the earnest -spirit of such men as Vera and Hutchison -Stirling! Stimulated by its title, -we had hoped to find a book that would -kindle a zeal for the study of the profoundest -philosophical subject, as treated by the -profoundest of thinkers.</p> - -<div class='nf-center-c1'> - <div class='nf-center'> - <div><span class='large'>Footnotes</span></div> - </div> -</div> - -<div class='footnote' id='f1'> -<p class='c006'><span class='label'><a href='#r1'>1</a>. </span><span class='sc'>Note.</span> The same mistaking of one series of thinking in transcendental idealism for the -other series, lies at the basis of the assertion, that besides the system of idealism, another -realistic system is also possible as a logical and thorough system. The realism, which -forces itself upon all, even the most decided idealist, namely, the assumption that things exist -independently and outside of us, is involved in the idealistic system itself; and is moreover explained -and deduced in that system. Indeed, the deduction of an objective truth, as well in the -world of appearances as in the world of intellect, is the only purpose of all philosophy.</p> - -<p class='c006'>It is the philosopher who says in <i>his own</i> name: everything that is <i>for</i> the Ego is also <i>through</i> -the Ego. But the Ego itself, in that philosopher’s philosophy says: as sure as I am I, there exists -outside of me a something, which exists <i>not</i> through me. The philosopher’s idealistic assertion -is therefore met by the realistic assertion of the Ego in the same one system; and it is the -philosopher’s business to show from the fundamental principle of his philosophy how the Ego -comes to make such an assertion. The philosopher’s stand-point is the purely speculative; the -Ego’s stand-point in his system is the realistic stand-point of life and science; the philosopher’s -system is Science of Knowledge, whilst the Ego’s system is common Science. But common -Science is comprehensible only through the Science of Knowledge, the realistic system comprehensible -only through the idealistic system. Realism forces itself upon us; but it has in -itself no known and comprehensible ground. Idealism furnishes this ground, and is only to -make realism comprehensible. Speculation has no other purpose than to furnish this comprehensibility -of all reality, which in itself would otherwise remain incomprehensible. Hence, also, -Idealism can never be a mode of thinking, but can only be <i>speculation</i>.</p> -</div> -<div class='footnote' id='f2'> -<p class='c006'><span class='label'><a href='#r2'>2</a>. </span>One cannot but be astonished not to see, -in this review of the principal forms of oriental -art, Chinese art at least mentioned. The -reason is, that, according to Hegel, art—the -fine arts, properly speaking—have no existence -among the Chinese. The spirit of that -people seems to him anti-artistic and prosaic. -He thus characterizes Chinese art in his philosophy -of history: “This race, in general, -has a rare talent for imitation, which is exercised -not only in the things of daily life, but -also in art. It has not yet arrived at the representation -of the beautiful as beautiful. In -painting, it lacks perspective and shading. -European images, like everything else, it copies -well. A Chinese painter knows exactly -how many scales there are on the back of a -carp, how many notches a leaf has; he knows -perfectly the form of trees and the curvature -of their branches; but the sublime, the ideal, -and the beautiful, do not belong at all to the -domain of his art and his ability.”—(<i>Philosophie -der Geschichte.</i>)</p> -</div> -<div class='footnote' id='f3'> -<p class='c006'><span class='label'><a href='#r3'>3</a>. </span><i>Primitifs.</i></p> -</div> -<div class='footnote' id='f4'> -<p class='c006'><span class='label'><a href='#r4'>4</a>. </span>i. e., Accidental causes.</p> -</div> -<div class='footnote' id='f5'> -<p class='c006'><span class='label'><a href='#r5'>5</a>. </span><i>Unique.</i></p> -</div> -<div class='footnote' id='f6'> -<p class='c006'><span class='label'><a href='#r6'>6</a>. </span>Critique of Practical Reason; Critique of the Power -of Judgment; and Critique of a Pure Doctrine of Religion.—<i>Translator.</i></p> -</div> -<div class='footnote' id='f7'> -<p class='c006'><span class='label'><a href='#r7'>7</a>. </span>For instance—<i>Critique of Pure Reason</i>, p. -108: “I purposely pass by the definition of -these categories, <i>although I may be in possession -of it</i>.” Now, these categories can be defined, -each by its determined relation to the possibility -of self consciousness, and whoever is in -possession of these definitions, is necessarily -possessed of the Science of Knowledge. Again, -p. 109: “<i>In a system of pure reason</i> this definition -might justly be required of me, but in the -present work they would only obscure the -main point.” Here he clearly opposes two -systems to each other—the <i>System of Pure Reason</i> -and the “present work,” i. e. the <i>Critique -of Pure Reason</i>—and the latter is said <i>not</i> to be -the former.</p> -</div> -<div class='footnote' id='f8'> -<p class='c006'><span class='label'><a href='#r8'>8</a>. </span>Here is the corner stone of Kant’s realism. -I <i>must think</i> something as thing in itself, i. e. -as independent of <i>me, the empirical</i>, whenever -I occupy the standpoint of the empirical; and -because I <i>must think</i> so, I never become conscious -of this activity in my thinking, <i>since it -is not free</i>. Only when I occupy the standpoint -of philosophy can I <i>draw the conclusion</i> -that I am active in this thinking.</p> -</div> -<div class='footnote' id='f9'> -<p class='c006'><span class='label'><a href='#r9'>9</a>. </span>To state the main point in a few words: -<i>All being</i> signifies a <i>limitation of free activity</i>. -Now this activity is regarded <i>either</i> as that of -the mere intelligence, and then that which is -posited as limiting this activity has a mere -<i>ideal being, mere objectivity in regard to consciousness</i>.—This -objectivity is in every representation -(even in that of the Ego, of virtue, of the -moral law, &c., or in that of complete phantasms, -as, for instance, a squared circle, a -sphynx, &c.) <i>object of the mere representation</i>. -Or the free activity is regarded as <i>having actual -causality</i>; and then that which limits it, has -<i>actual</i> existence, the <i>real world</i>.</p> -</div> -<div class='footnote' id='f10'> -<p class='c006'><span class='label'><a href='#r10'>10</a>. </span>I have repeated this frequently. I have -stated that I could absolutely have no point in -common with certain philosophers, and that -they are not, and cannot be, where I am. This -seems to have been taken rather for an hyperbole, -uttered in indignation, than for real earnest; -for they do not cease to repeat their demand: -“Prove <i>to us</i> thy doctrine!” I must -solemnly assure them that I was perfectly -serious in that statement, that it is my deliberate -and decided conviction. Dogmatism -proceeds from a <i>being</i> as the Absolute, and -hence its system never rises above being. -Idealism knows no being, as something for -itself existing. In other words: Dogmatism -proceeds from necessity—Idealism from freedom. -They are, therefore, in two utterly different -worlds.</p> -</div> -<div class='footnote' id='f11'> -<p class='c006'><span class='label'><a href='#r11'>11</a>. </span>“Had man withstood the trial, his descendants -would have been born one from -another in the same way that Adam—i. e. mankind—was, -namely, in the image of God; for -that which proceeds from the Eternal has eternal -manner of birth.”—<i>Behmen.</i></p> -</div> -<div class='footnote' id='f12'> -<p class='c006'><span class='label'><a href='#r12'>12</a>. </span>“It is a miserable thing to have been happy; -and a self-contracted wretchedness is a double -one. Had felicity always been a stranger to -humanity, our present misery had been none; -and had not ourselves been the authors of our -ruins, less. We might have been made unhappy, -but, since we are miserable, we chose -it. He that gave our outward enjoyments -might have taken them from us, but none -could have robbed us of innocence but ourselves. -While man knew no sin, he was ignorant -of nothing that it imported humanity to -know; but when he had sinned, the same -transgression that opened his eyes to see his -own shame, shut them against most things -else but it and the newly purchased misery. -With the nakedness of his body, he saw that -of his soul, and the blindness and dismay of -his faculties to which his former innocence -was a stranger, and that which showed them -to him made them. We are not now like the -creatures we were made, having not only lost -our Maker’s image but our own; and do not -much more transcend the creatures placed at -our feet, than we come short of our ancient -selves.”—<i>Glanvill.</i></p> -</div> -<div class='footnote' id='f13'> -<p class='c006'><span class='label'><a href='#r13'>13</a>. </span>“I maintain that the different types of the -human family have an independent origin, one -from the other, and are not descended from -common ancestors. In fact, I believe that -men were created in nations, not in individuals; -but not in nations in the present sense -of the word; on the contrary, in such crowds -as exhibited slight, if any, diversity among -themselves, except that of sex.”—<i>Agassiz.</i></p> -</div> -<div class='footnote' id='f14'> -<p class='c006'><span class='label'><a href='#r14'>14</a>. </span>“Thou hast possessed my reins, thou hast -covered me in my mother’s womb. My substance -was not hid from thee when I was made -in a secret place, and there curiously wrought -as in the lowest parts of the earth: there thine -eyes did see my substance yet being imperfect: -and in thy Book were all my members written, -which in continuance were fashioned -when as yet there was none of them.”—<span class='sc'>Psalm</span> -cxxxix: 13, 15, 16.</p> -</div> -<div class='footnote' id='f15'> -<p class='c006'><span class='label'><a href='#r15'>15</a>. </span>“Man feeds upon air, the plant collecting -the materials from the atmosphere and compounding -them for his food. Even life itself, -as we know it, is but a process of combustion, -of which decomposition is the final conclusion; -through this combustion all the constituents -return back into air, a few ashes remaining to -the earth from whence they came. But from -these embers, slowly invisible flames, arise -into regions where our science has no longer -any value.”—<i>Schleiden.</i></p> -</div> -<div class='footnote' id='f16'> -<p class='c006'><span class='label'><a href='#r16'>16</a>. </span>In this connection, permit me, dear friend, -to mention a discovery which I made concerning -my son Isaac, now three years old. Just -imagine my surprise when I found that every -book in my possession—Webster’s Spelling-book -not excepted—is a perfect riddle to him, -and mystifies him as completely as ever the -works of Goethe, Hegel, Emerson, or any -other thinking man, do or did the learned -critics. But my parental pride, so much -elated by the discovery of this remarkable -precocity in my son—a precocity which, at -the age of three years, (!) shows him possessed -of all the incapacity of such “learned -men”—was shocked, nay, mortified, by the -utter want of appreciation which the little fellow -showed of this, his exalted condition!</p> -</div> -<div class='footnote' id='f17'> -<p class='c006'><span class='label'><a href='#r17'>17</a>. </span>From this a variety of facts in the character -and history of the different works of art -become apparent. The degree of the effect -produced, for example, is owing to the degree -of validity attached to the two sides of the contradiction. -If the duties which the individual -owes to the family and the state come into -conflict, as in the Antigone of Sophocles, and -the consciousness of the age has not subordinated -the ideas upon which they are based, -but accords to each an equal degree of validity, -we have a content replete with the noblest -effects. For this is not a conflict between the -abstract good and bad, the positive and the -negative, but a conflict within the good itself. -So likewise the universality of the effect is -apparent from the content. If this is the self-consciousness -of a nation, the work of art will -be national. To illustrate this, and, at the -same time, to trace the development of the particularity -spoken of into a collision, we may -refer to that great national work of art—the -Iliad of Homer. The particularity which distinguishes -the national self-consciousness of -the Greeks is the preëminent validity attached -by it to one of the before-mentioned modes of -the actualization of self-conscious intelligence—the -sensuous. Hence its worship of the -Beautiful. This preëminence and the consequent -subordination of the moral and the rational -modes to it, is the root of the contradiction, -and hence the basis of the collision -which forms the content of the poem. Its -motive modernized would read about as follows: -“The son of one of our Senators goes -to England; is received and hospitably entertained -at the house of a lord. During his stay -he falls in love and subsequently elopes with -the young wife of his entertainer. For this -outrage, perpetrated by the young hopeful, -the entire fighting material of the island get -themselves into their ships, not so much to -avenge the injured husband as to capture the -runaway wife.”</p> - -<p class='c006'>But—now mark—adverse winds ensue, -powers not human are in arms against them, -and before these can be propitiated, a princess -of the blood royal, pure and undefiled, must -be sacrificed!—is sacrificed, and for what? -That all Greece may proclaim to the world -that pure womanhood, pure manhood, family, -society, and the state, are nothing, must be -sacrificed on the altar of the Beautiful. For -in the sacrifice of Iphigenia, all that could -perish in Helen, and more too—for Iphigenia -was pure and Helen was not—was offered up -by the Greeks, woman for woman, and nothing -remained but the Beautiful, for which she -henceforth became the expression. For in -this alone did Helen excel Iphigenia, and all -women.</p> - -<p class='c006'>But how is this? Have not the filial, the -parental, the social, the civil relations, sanctity -and validity? Not as against the realization -of the Beautiful, says the Greek. Nor yet the -state? No; “I do not go at the command of -Agamemnon, but because I pledged fealty to -Beauty.” “But then,” Sir Achilles, “if the -Beautiful should present itself under some individual -form—say that of Briseis—you would -for the sake of its possession disobey the will -of the state?” “Of course.” And the poet -has to sing, “Achilles’ wrath!” and not “the -recovery of the runaway wife,” the grand historical -action.</p> -</div> -<div class='footnote' id='f18'> -<p class='c006'><span class='label'><a href='#r18'>18</a>. </span>Thus, for example, it becomes very clear -through the whole course of our inquiry, that, -in order to render the dynamic organization of -the Universe evident in all its parts, we still -lack that central phenomenon of which Bacon -already speaks, which certainly lies in Nature, -but has not yet been extracted from it by experiment. -[<i>Remark of the Original.</i> Compare -below, third note to “General Remark.”]</p> -</div> -<div class='footnote' id='f19'> -<p class='c006'><span class='label'><a href='#r19'>19</a>. </span>If only those warm panegyrists of empiricism, -who exalt it at the expense of -science, did not, true to the idea of empiricism, -try to palm off upon us as empiricism -their own judgments, and what they have put -into nature, and imposed upon objects; for -though many persons think they can talk -about it, there is a great deal more belonging -to it than many imagine—to eliminate purely -the accomplished from Nature, and to state it -with the same fidelity with which it has been -eliminated.—<i>Remark of the Original.</i></p> -</div> -<div class='footnote' id='f20'> -<p class='c006'><span class='label'><a href='#r20'>20</a>. </span>A traveller in Italy makes the remark -that the whole history of the world may be -demonstrated on the great obelisk at Rome; -so, likewise, in every product of Nature. -Every mineral body is a fragment of the -annals of the earth. But what is the earth? -Its history is interwoven with the history of -the whole of Nature, and so passes from the -fossil through the whole of inorganic and organic -Nature, till it culminates in the history -of the universe—one chain.—<i>Remark of the -Original.</i></p> -</div> -<div class='footnote' id='f21'> -<p class='c006'><span class='label'><a href='#r21'>21</a>. </span>Volta already asks, with reference to the -affection of the senses by galvanism—“Might -not the electric fluid be the immediate cause -of all flavors? Might it not be the cause of -sensation in all the other senses?”—<i>Remark of -the Original.</i></p> -</div> -<div class='footnote' id='f22'> -<p class='c006'><span class='label'><a href='#r22'>22</a>. </span>According to the foregoing experiments, -it is at least not impossible to regard the -phenomena of light and those of electricity -as one, since in the prismatic spectrum the -colors <i>may</i> at least be considered as opposites, -and the white light, which regularly falls in -the middle, be regarded as the indifference-point; -and for reasons of analogy one is -tempted to consider <i>this</i> construction of the -phenomena of light as the real one.—<i>Remark -of the Original.</i></p> -</div> -<div class='footnote' id='f23'> -<p class='c006'><span class='label'><a href='#r23'>23</a>. </span>Hence wherever the antithesis is cancelled -or deranged, the metamorphosis becomes -irregular. For what is disease even -but metamorphosis?—<i>Remark of the Original.</i></p> -</div> -<div class='footnote' id='f24'> -<p class='c006'><span class='label'><a href='#r24'>24</a>. </span>From this point onwards, there are, as in -the Outlines, additions in notes (similar to the -few that have already been admitted into the -text in brackets []). They are excerpted -from a MS. copy of the author’s.</p> -</div> -<div class='footnote' id='f25'> -<p class='c006'><span class='label'><a href='#r25'>25</a>. </span>The first postulate of natural science is an -antithesis in the pure identity of Nature. This -antithesis must be thought quite purely, and -not with any other substrate besides that of -activity; for it is the condition of all substrate. -The person who cannot think activity or opposition -without a substrate, cannot philosophize -at all. For all philosophizing goes only -to the deduction of a substrate.</p> -</div> -<div class='footnote' id='f26'> -<p class='c006'><span class='label'><a href='#r26'>26</a>. </span>The phenomena of electricity show the -scheme of nature oscillating between productivity -and product. This condition of oscillation -or change, attractive and repulsive force, -is the real condition of formation.</p> -</div> -<div class='footnote' id='f27'> -<p class='c006'><span class='label'><a href='#r27'>27</a>. </span>For it is the only thing that is given us -to derive all other things from.</p> -</div> -<div class='footnote' id='f28'> -<p class='c006'><span class='label'><a href='#r28'>28</a>. </span>The whole of the uncancelled antithesis of -<i>A</i> is carried over to <i>B</i>. But again, it cannot -entirely cancel itself in <i>B</i>, and is therefore carried -over to <i>C</i>. The antithesis in <i>C</i> is therefore -maintained by <i>B</i>, but only in so far as <i>A</i> -maintains the antithesis which is the condition -of <i>B</i>.</p> -</div> -<div class='footnote' id='f29'> -<p class='c006'><span class='label'><a href='#r29'>29</a>. </span>That is, distribution exists only, when the -antithesis in a product is not absolutely but -only relatively cancelled.</p> -</div> -<div class='footnote' id='f30'> -<p class='c006'><span class='label'><a href='#r30'>30</a>. </span>The struggle towards indifference attains -the preponderance over the antithesis, at a -greater or less distance from the body which -exercises the distribution, (as, for example, at -a certain distance, the action by distribution, -which an electric or magnetic body exercises -upon another body, appears as cancelled.) The -difference in this distance is the ground of the -difference of world-bodies in one and the same -system, inasmuch, namely, as one part of the -matter is subjected to indifference more than -the rest. Since, therefore, the condition of all -product is difference, difference must again -arise at every step as the source of all existence, -but must also be thought as again cancelled. -By this continual reproduction and -resuscitation creation takes place anew at every -step.</p> -</div> -<div class='footnote' id='f31'> -<p class='c006'><span class='label'><a href='#r31'>31</a>. </span>It is precisely zero to which Nature continually -strives to revert, and to which it -would revert, if the antithesis were ever cancelled. -Let us suppose the original condition -of Nature = 0 (want of reality). Now zero can -certainly be thought as dividing itself into 1 - 1 -(for this = 0); but if we posit that this division -as not infinite (as it is in the infinite series -1 - 1 + 1 - 1 ...), then Nature will as it were -oscillate continually between zero and unity—and -this is precisely its condition.</p> -</div> -<div class='footnote' id='f32'> -<p class='c006'><span class='label'><a href='#r32'>32</a>. </span>Baader on the Pythagorean Square. 1798. -(<i>Remark of the original.</i>)</p> -</div> -<div class='footnote' id='f33'> -<p class='c006'><span class='label'><a href='#r33'>33</a>. </span>Except by the thoughtful author of a review -of my work on the world-soul, in the -Würzburg <i>Gelehrte Anzeiger</i>, the only review -of that work that has hitherto come under my -notice. (<i>Remark of the original.</i>)</p> -</div> -<div class='footnote' id='f34'> -<p class='c006'><span class='label'><a href='#r34'>34</a>. </span>It is here taken for granted that what we -call the quality of bodies, and what we are -wont to regard as something homogeneous, -and the ground of all homogeneity is really -only an expression for a cancelled difference.</p> -</div> -<div class='footnote' id='f35'> -<p class='c006'><span class='label'><a href='#r35'>35</a>. </span>In the M.S. copy the last part of this sentence -reads as follows: The construction of -quality ought necessarily to be capable of experimental -proof, by the recancelling the identity, -and of the phenomena which accompany -it.</p> -</div> -<div class='footnote' id='f36'> -<p class='c006'><span class='label'><a href='#r36'>36</a>. </span>Every body must be thought as reproduced -at every step—and therefore also every -total product.</p> -</div> -<div class='footnote' id='f37'> -<p class='c006'><span class='label'><a href='#r37'>37</a>. </span>The <i>universal</i>, however, is never perceived, -for the simple reason that it is universal.</p> -</div> -<div class='footnote' id='f38'> -<p class='c006'><span class='label'><a href='#r38'>38</a>. </span>Whereby what was said above is confirmed,—that -falling toward the centre is a -compound motion.</p> -</div> -<div class='footnote' id='f39'> -<p class='c006'><span class='label'><a href='#r39'>39</a>. </span>The reciprocal cancelling of opposite motions.</p> -</div> -<div class='footnote' id='f40'> -<p class='c006'><span class='label'><a href='#r40'>40</a>. </span>Or the object is seen in the first stage of -becoming, or of transition from difference to -indifference. The phenomena of magnetism -even serve, so to speak, as an impulse, to -transport us to the standpoint beyond the product, -which is necessary in order to the construction -of the product.</p> -</div> -<div class='footnote' id='f41'> -<p class='c006'><span class='label'><a href='#r41'>41</a>. </span>There will result the opposite effect—a -<i>negative</i> attraction, that is, repulsion. Repulsion -and attraction stand to each other as positive -and negative magnitudes. Repulsion is -only negative attraction—attraction only negative -repulsion; as soon, therefore, as the maximum -of attraction is reached, it passes over -into its opposite—into repulsion.</p> -</div> -<div class='footnote' id='f42'> -<p class='c006'><span class='label'><a href='#r42'>42</a>. </span>If we designate the factors as + and - -electricity, then, in the second stage, + electricity -had a relative preponderance over - -electricity.</p> -</div> -<div class='footnote' id='f43'> -<p class='c006'><span class='label'><a href='#r43'>43</a>. </span>If no longer the individual factors of the -two products, but the whole products themselves -are absolutely opposed to each other.</p> -</div> -<div class='footnote' id='f44'> -<p class='c006'><span class='label'><a href='#r44'>44</a>. </span>For product is something wherein antithesis -cancels itself, but it cancels itself only -through indifference of gravity. When, therefore, -two products are opposed to each other, -the indifference in each <i>individually</i> must be -absolutely cancelled, and the whole products -must gravitate towards each other.</p> -</div> -<div class='footnote' id='f45'> -<p class='c006'><span class='label'><a href='#r45'>45</a>. </span>In the electric process, the whole product -is not active, but only the one factor of the -product, which has the relative preponderance -over the other. In the chemical process -in which the <i>whole product</i> is active, it follows -that the indifference of the whole product must -be cancelled.</p> -</div> -<div class='footnote' id='f46'> -<p class='c006'><span class='label'><a href='#r46'>46</a>. </span>We have therefore the following scheme -of the dynamical process:</p> - -<p class='c006'>First stage: Unity of the product—magnetism.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Second stage: Duplicity of the products—electricity.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Third stage: Unity of the products—chemical -process.</p> -</div> -<div class='footnote' id='f47'> -<p class='c006'><span class='label'><a href='#r47'>47</a>. </span>The conclusions which may be deduced -from this construction of dynamical phenomena -are partly anticipated in what goes -before. The following may serve for further -explanation:</p> - -<p class='c006'>The chemical process, for example, in its -highest perfection is a process of combustion. -Now I have already shown on another occasion, -that the condition of light in the body -undergoing combustion is nothing else but the -maximum of its positive electrical condition. -For it is always the positively electrical condition -that is also the combustible. Might not, -then, this coexistence of the phenomenon of -light with the chemical process in its highest -perfection give us information about the -ground of every phenomenon of light in Nature?</p> - -<p class='c006'>What happens, then, in the chemical process? -Two whole products gravitate towards each -other. The <i>indifference</i> of the <i>individual</i> is -therefore <i>absolutely</i> cancelled. This absolute -cancelling of indifference puts the whole body -into the condition of light, just as the partial in -the electric process puts it into a partial condition -of light. Therefore, also the light—what -seems to stream to us from the sun—is nothing -else but the phenomenon of indifference -cancelled at every step. For as gravity never -ceases to act, its condition—antithesis—must -be regarded as springing up again at every -step. We should thus have in light a continual, -visible appearing of gravitation, and it -would be explained why, in the system of -worlds, it is exactly those bodies which are -the principal seat of gravity that are also the -principal source of light. We should then, -also, have an explanation of the connection in -which the action of light stands to that of -gravitation.</p> - -<p class='c006'>The manifold effects of light on the deviations -of the magnetic needle, on atmospheric -electricity, and on organic nature, would be -explained by the very fact that light is the -phenomenon of indifference continually cancelled—therefore, -the phenomenon of the dynamical -process continually rekindled. It is, -therefore, one antithesis that prevails in all -dynamical phenomena—in those of magnetism, -electricity and light; for example, the antithesis, -which is the condition of the electrical phenomena -must already enter into the first construction -of matter. For all bodies are certainly -electrical.</p> -</div> -<div class='footnote' id='f48'> -<p class='c006'><span class='label'><a href='#r48'>48</a>. </span>Or rather, conversely, the more combustible -is always also the positively electric; -whence it is manifest that the body which -burns has merely reached the maximum of + -electricity.</p> -</div> -<div class='footnote' id='f49'> -<p class='c006'><span class='label'><a href='#r49'>49</a>. </span>And indeed it is so. What then is the -absolute incombustible? Doubtless, simply -that wherewith everything else burns—oxygen. -But it is precisely this absolutely incombustible -oxygen that is the principle of negative electricity, -and thus we have a confirmation of -what I have already stated in the Ideas for a -Philosophy of Nature, viz. that oxygen is a -principle of a negative kind, and therefore the -representative, as it were, of the power of -attraction; whereas phlogiston, or, what is the -same thing, positive electricity, is the representative -of the positive, or of the force of repulsion. -There has long been a theory that -the magnetic, electric, chemical, and, finally, -even the organic phenomena, are interwoven -into one great interdependent whole. This -must be established. It is certain that the -connection of electricity with the process of -combustion may be shown by numerous experiments. -One of the most recent of these -that has come to my knowledge I will cite. -It occurs in Scherer’s <i>Journal of Chemistry</i>. If -a Leyden jar is filled with iron filings, and repeatedly -charged and discharged, and if, after -the lapse of some time, this iron is taken out -and placed upon an isolator—paper, for example—it -begins to get hot, becomes incandescent, -and changes into an oxide of iron. This -experiment deserves to be frequently repeated -and more closely examined—it might readily -lead to something new.</p> - -<p class='c006'>This great interdependence, which a scientific -system of physics must establish, extends over -the whole of Nature. It must, therefore, once -established, spread a new light over the History -of the whole of Nature. Thus, for example, it -is certain that all geology must start from terrestrial -magnetism. But terrestrial electricity -must again be determined by magnetism. -The connection of North and South with -magnetism is shown even by the irregular -movements of the magnetic needle. But -again, with universal electricity, which, no -less than gravity and magnetism, has its indifference -point—the universal process of combustion -and all volcanic phenomena stand connected.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Therefore, it is certain that there is one -chain going from universal magnetism down -to the volcanic phenomena. Still these are all -only scattered experiments.</p> - -<p class='c006'>In order to make this interdependence <i>fully</i> -evident, we need the central phenomenon, or -central experiment, of which Bacon speaks -oracularly—(I mean the experiment wherein -all those functions of matter, magnetism, electricity, -&c., so run together in one phenomenon -that the <i>individual</i> function is distinguishable)—proving -that the one does not lose itself -immediately in the other, but that each can -be exhibited separately—an experiment which, -when it is discovered, will stand in the same relation -to the <i>whole</i> of Nature, as galvanism does -to organic nature. [Compare this with the discourse -on Faraday’s latest discovery, (1832,) -p. 15. Complete Works, 1st Div., last vol.]</p> -</div> -<div class='footnote' id='f50'> -<p class='c006'><span class='label'><a href='#r50'>50</a>. </span>Proof—All dynamical phenomena are phenomena -of transition from difference to indifference. -But it is in this very transition -that matter is primarily constructed.</p> -</div> -<div class='footnote' id='f51'> -<p class='c006'><span class='label'><a href='#r51'>51</a>. </span>In the already mentioned discourse on -Faraday’s latest discovery, the author cites -the passage (p. 75, original edition,) as well as -§ 56 sq. of the <i>General View of the Dynamical -Process</i> (likewise written <i>before</i> the invention -of the voltaic pile,) as a proof of his having -<i>anticipated</i> the discoveries which proved the -<i>unity</i> of the electrical and the chemical antithesis, -and of the similar connection subsisting -between magnetic and chemical phenomena. -(See also Remark 2, p. 216.)</p> -</div> -<div class='footnote' id='f52'> -<p class='c006'><span class='label'><a href='#r52'>52</a>. </span>Every individual is an expression of the -whole of Nature. As the existence of the -<i>single</i> organic individual rests on that scale, so -does the whole of Nature. Organic nature -maintains the whole wealth and variety of -her products only by continually changing -the relation of those three functions.—In like -manner inorganic Nature brings forth the -whole wealth of her product, only by changing -the relation of those three functions of -matter <i>ad infinitum</i>; for magnetism, electricity, -and chemical process are the functions of -matter generally, and on that ground alone -are they categories for the construction of all -matter. This fact, that those three factors -are not phenomena of special kinds of matter, -but <i>functions of all matter</i> universally, gives its -real, and its innermost sense to dynamical -physics, which, by this circumstance alone, -rises far above all other kinds of physics.</p> -</div> -<div class='footnote' id='f53'> -<p class='c006'><span class='label'><a href='#r53'>53</a>. </span>That is, the organic product can be -thought only as subsisting under the hostile -pressure of an external nature.</p> -</div> -<div class='footnote' id='f54'> -<p class='c006'><span class='label'><a href='#r54'>54</a>. </span>The chemical process, too, has not substrateless -or simple factors; it has products for -factors.</p> -</div> -<div class='footnote' id='f55'> -<p class='c006'><span class='label'><a href='#r55'>55</a>. </span>The same deduction is already given in -the Outlines, p. 163.—What the dynamical -action is, which according to the Outlines is -also the cause of irritability, is now surely -clear enough. It is the <i>universal action</i> which -is everywhere conditioned by the cancelment -of indifference, and which at last tends towards -intussusception (indifference of products) -when it is not continually prevented, as -it is in the process of irritation. (<i>Remark of -the original.</i>)</p> -</div> -<div class='footnote' id='f56'> -<p class='c006'><span class='label'><a href='#r56'>56</a>. </span>The abyss of forces, into which we here -look down, opens with the one question; -In the first construction of our earth, what -can have been the ground of the fact that no -genesis of new individuals is possible upon it, -otherwise than under the condition of opposite -powers? Compare an utterance of Kant -on this subject, in his Anthropology. (<i>Remark -of the original.</i>)</p> -</div> -<div class='footnote' id='f57'> -<p class='c006'><span class='label'><a href='#r57'>57</a>. </span>The two factors can never be <i>one</i>, but -must be separated into different products—in -order that thus the difference may be permanent.</p> -</div> -<div class='footnote' id='f58'> -<p class='c006'><span class='label'><a href='#r58'>58</a>. </span>In the product, indifference of the first and -second powers is arrived at (for example, by -irritation itself an origin of <i>mass</i> [i. e. indifference -of the first order] and even <i>chemical -products</i> [i. e. indifference of the second order] -are reached), but indifference of the third -power can never be reached, because it is a -contradictory idea. (<i>Remark of the original.</i>)</p> -</div> -<div class='footnote' id='f59'> -<p class='c006'><span class='label'><a href='#r59'>59</a>. </span>The product is productive only from the -fact of its being a product of the third power. -But the idea of a productive product is itself -a contradiction. What is productivity is not -product, and what is product is not productivity. -Therefore a product of the third power -is itself a contradictory idea. From this even -is manifest what an extremely artificial condition -life is—wrenched, as it were, from Nature—subsisting -against her will.</p> -</div> -<div class='footnote' id='f60'> -<p class='c006'><span class='label'><a href='#r60'>60</a>. </span>Nothing shows more clearly the contradictions -out of which life arises, and the fact -that it is altogether only a heightened condition -of <i>ordinary</i> natural forces, than the contradiction -of Nature in what she tries, but -tries in vain, to reach through the <i>sexes</i>.—Nature -<i>hates</i> sex, and where it does arise, it -arises against her will. The diremption into -sexes is an inevitable fate, with which, after -she is once organic, she must put up, and -which she can never overcome.—By this very -hatred of diremption she finds herself involved -in a contradiction, inasmuch as what -is odious to her she is compelled to develop in -the most careful manner, and to lead to the -summit of existence, as if she did it on purpose; -whereas she is always striving only for -a return into the identity of the genus, which, -however, is chained to the (never to be cancelled) -duplicity of the sexes, as to an inevitable -condition. That she develops the -individual only from compulsion, and for the -sake of the genus, is manifest from this, that -wherever in a genus she <i>seems</i> desirous of -maintaining the individual longer (though this -is never really the case), she finds the genus -becoming more uncertain, because she must -hold the sexes farther asunder, and, as it -were, make them flee from each other. In -this region of Nature, the decay of the individual -is not so visibly rapid as it is where the -sexes are nearer to each other, as in the case -of the rapidly withering flower, in which, from -its very birth, they are enclosed in a calix as -in a bride-bed, but in which, for that very -cause, the <i>genus</i> is better <i>secured</i>.</p> - -<p class='c006'>Nature is the <i>laziest of animals</i>, and curses -diremption, because it imposes upon her the -necessity of activity; she is active only in -order to rid herself of this necessity. The -opposites must for ever shun, in order for ever -to seek, each other; and for ever seek, in order -never to find, each other; it is only in <i>this</i> -contradiction that the ground of all the activity -of Nature lies. (<i>Remark of the original.</i>)</p> -</div> -<div class='footnote' id='f61'> -<p class='c006'><span class='label'><a href='#r61'>61</a>. </span>Its effect upon the power of reproduction -(as well as the reaction of particular conditions -of the latter power upon galvanic phenomena) -is less studied still than might be needful and -useful.—Vide Outlines, p. 177.—(<i>Remark of -the original.</i>)</p> -</div> -<div class='footnote' id='f62'> -<p class='c006'><span class='label'><a href='#r62'>62</a>. </span>Compare above Remark, p. 197. (<i>Remark -of the original.</i>)</p> -</div> -<div class='footnote' id='f63'> -<p class='c006'><span class='label'><a href='#r63'>63</a>. </span>That it is therefore the same nature, which, -by the same forces, produces organic phenomena, -and the universal phenomena of Nature, -and that these forces are in a heightened -conditioned in organic nature.</p> -</div> -<div class='footnote' id='f64'> -<p class='c006'><span class='label'><a href='#r64'>64</a>. </span>The word “Idea” does not have the sense -here given it, except in Hegel, and in a very -few translations of him. For the most part the -word is used, (e. g. in Schelling’s Philosophy -of Nature in this number,) as a translation for -the German “<i>Begriff</i>,” which we call “<i>comprehension</i>,” -adopting the term in this sense from -the author of the “Letters on Faust.” It will -do no harm to use so expressive a word as -comprehension in an objective sense as well -as in a subjective one. The thought itself is -<i>bizarre</i>, and not merely the word; it is useless -to expect to find words that are used commonly -in a speculative sense. One must seek -a word that has several meanings, and grasp -these meanings all together in one, to have -the speculative use of a word. Spirit has -formed words for speculative ideas by the -deepest of instincts, and these words have been -unavoidably split up into different meanings -by the sensuous thinking, which always loses -the connecting links.</p> -</div> -<div class='footnote' id='f65'> -<p class='c006'><span class='label'><a href='#r65'>65</a>. </span>“Essai sur la dialectique dans Platon et -dans Hegel,” par Paul Janet, Membre de -L’Institut, professeur à la Faculté des lettres -de Paris.—Paris, (Ladrange,) 1860.</p> -</div> -<div> - - <ul class='ul_1 c002'> - <li>Transcriber’s Notes: - <ul class='ul_2'> - <li>Footnotes have been collected at the end of the text, and are linked for ease of - reference. - </li> - </ul> - </li> - </ul> - -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin-top:4em'>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE JOURNAL OF SPECULATIVE PHILOSOPHY, VOL. 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