_Thrasymachos_. Tell me now, in one word, what shall I be after my
death? And mind you be clear and precise.
_Philalethes_. All and nothing!
_Thrasymachos_. I thought so! I gave you a problem, and you solve it
by a contradiction. That's a very stale trick.
_Philalethes_. Yes, but you raise transcendental questions, and you
expect me to answer them in language that is only made for immanent
knowledge. It's no wonder that a contradiction ensues.
_Thrasymachos_. What do you mean by transcendental questions and
immanent knowledge? I've heard these expressions before, of course;
they are not new to me. The Professor was fond of using them, but only
as predicates of the Deity, and he never talked of anything else;
which was all quite right and proper. He argued thus: if the Deity was
in the world itself, he was immanent; if he was somewhere outside it,
he was transcendent. Nothing could be clearer and more obvious! You
knew where you were. But this Kantian rigmarole won't do any more:
it's antiquated and no longer applicable to modern ideas. Why, we've
had a whole row of eminent men in the metropolis of German learning--
_Philalethes_. (Aside.) German humbug, he means.
_Thrasymachos_. The mighty Schleiermacher, for instance, and that
gigantic intellect, Hegel; and at this time of day we've abandoned
that nonsense. I should rather say we're so far beyond it that we
can't put up with it any more. What's the use of it then? What does it
all mean?
_Philalethes_. Transcendental knowledge is knowledge which passes
beyond the bounds of possible experience, and strives to determine the
nature of things as they are in themselves. Immanent knowledge, on the
other hand, is knowledge which confines itself entirely with those
bounds; so that it cannot apply to anything but actual phenomena. As
far as you are an individual, death will be the end of you. But your
individuality is not your true and inmost being: it is only the
outward manifestation of it. It is not the _thing-in-itself_, but only
the phenomenon presented in the form of time; and therefore with a
beginning and an end. But your real being knows neither time, nor
beginning, nor end, nor yet the limits of any given individual. It is
everywhere present in every individual; and no individual can
exist apart from it. So when death comes, on the one hand you are
annihilated as an individual; on the other, you are and remain
everything. That is what I meant when I said that after your death
you would be all and nothing. It is difficult to find a more precise
answer to your question and at the same time be brief. The answer is
contradictory, I admit; but it is so simply because your life is in
time, and the immortal part of you in eternity. You may put the matter
thus: Your immortal part is something that does not last in time and
yet is indestructible; but there you have another contradiction! You
see what happens by trying to bring the transcendental within the
limits of immanent knowledge. It is in some sort doing violence to the
latter by misusing it for ends it was never meant to serve.
_Thrasymachos_. Look here, I shan't give twopence for your immortality
unless I'm to remain an individual.
_Philalethes_. Well, perhaps I may be able to satisfy you on this
point. Suppose I guarantee that after death you shall remain an
individual, but only on condition that you first spend three months of
complete unconsciousness.
_Thrasymachos_. I shall have no objection to that.
_Philalethes_. But remember, if people are completely unconscious,
they take no account of time. So, when you are dead, it's all the same
to you whether three months pass in the world of consciousness, or ten
thousand years. In the one case as in the other, it is simply a matter
of believing what is told you when you awake. So far, then, you can
afford to be indifferent whether it is three months or ten thousand
years that pass before you recover your individuality.
_Thrasymachos_. Yes, if it comes to that, I suppose you're right.
_Philalethes_. And if by chance, after those ten thousand years have
gone by, no one ever thinks of awakening you, I fancy it would be
no great misfortune. You would have become quite accustomed to
non-existence after so long a spell of it--following upon such a very
few years of life. At any rate you may be sure you would be perfectly
ignorant of the whole thing. Further, if you knew that the mysterious
power which keeps you in your present state of life had never once
ceased in those ten thousand years to bring forth other phenomena like
yourself, and to endow them with life, it would fully console you.
_Thrasymachos_. Indeed! So you think you're quietly going to do me
out of my individuality with all this fine talk. But I'm up to your
tricks. I tell you I won't exist unless I can have my individuality.
I'm not going to be put off with 'mysterious powers,' and what you
call 'phenomena.' I can't do without my individuality, and I won't
give it up.
_Philalethes_. You mean, I suppose, that your individuality is such a
delightful thing, so splendid, so perfect, and beyond compare--that
you can't imagine anything better. Aren't you ready to exchange your
present state for one which, if we can judge by what is told us, may
possibly be superior and more endurable?
_Thrasymachos_. Don't you see that my individuality, be it what it
may, is my very self? To me it is the most important thing in the
world.
_For God is God and I am I_.
_I_ want to exist, _I, I_. That's the main thing. I don't care about
an existence which has to be proved to be mine, before I can believe
it.
_Philalethes_. Think what you're doing! When you say _I, I, I_ want
to exist, it is not you alone that says this. Everything says it,
absolutely everything that has the faintest trace of consciousness. It
follows, then, that this desire of yours is just the part of you that
is _not individual_--the part that is common to all things without
distinction. It is the cry, not of the individual, but of existence
itself; it is the intrinsic element in everything that exists, nay, it
is the cause of anything existing at all. This desire craves for, and
so is satisfied with, nothing less than existence in general--not any
definite individual existence. No! that is not its aim. It seems to be
so only because this desire--this _Will_--attains consciousness only
in the individual, and therefore looks as though it were concerned
with nothing but the individual. There lies the illusion--an illusion,
it is true, in which the individual is held fast: but, if he reflects,
he can break the fetters and set himself free. It is only indirectly,
I say, that the individual has this violent craving for existence. It
is _the Will to Live_ which is the real and direct aspirant--alike and
identical in all things. Since, then, existence is the free work, nay,
the mere reflection of the will, where existence is, there, too,
must be will; and for the moment the will finds its satisfaction in
existence itself; so far, I mean, as that which never rests, but
presses forward eternally, can ever find any satisfaction at all.
The will is careless of the individual: the individual is not its
business; although, as I have said, this seems to be the case, because
the individual has no direct consciousness of will except in himself.
The effect of this is to make the individual careful to maintain his
own existence; and if this were not so, there would be no surety
for the preservation of the species. From all this it is clear that
individuality is not a form of perfection, but rather of limitation;
and so to be freed from it is not loss but gain. Trouble yourself no
more about the matter. Once thoroughly recognize what you are, what
your existence really is, namely, the universal will to live, and the
whole question will seem to you childish, and most ridiculous!
_Thrasymachos_. You're childish yourself and most ridiculous, like
all philosophers! and if a man of my age lets himself in for a
quarter-of-an-hour's talk with such fools, it is only because it
amuses me and passes the time. I've more important business to attend
to, so Good-bye.