LETTER XI.

If abstraction rises to as great an elevation as possible, it arrives at

two primary ideas, before which it is obliged to stop and to recognize

its limits. It distinguishes in man something that continues, and

something that changes incessantly. That which continues it names his

person; that which changes his position, his condition.

The person and the condition, I and my determinations, which we

represent as one and the same thing in the necessary being, are

eternally distinct in the finite being. Notwithstanding all continuance

in the person, the condition changes; in spite of all change of

condition the person remains. We pass from rest to activity, from

emotion to indifference, from assent to contradiction, but we are always

_we ourselves_, and what immediately springs from _ourselves_ remains.

It is only in the absolute subject that all his determinations continue

with his personality. All that Divinity is, it is because it is so;

consequently it is eternally what it is, because it is eternal.

As the person and the condition are distinct in man, because he is a

finite being, the condition cannot be founded on the person, nor the

person on the condition. Admitting the second case, the person would

have to change; and in the former case, the condition would have to

continue. Thus in either supposition, either the personality or the

quality of a finite being would necessarily cease. It is not because we

think, feel, and will that we are; it is not because we are that we

think, feel, and will. We are because we are. We feel, think, and will

because there is out of us something that is not ourselves.

Consequently the person must have its principle of existence in itself,

because the permanent cannot be derived from the changeable, and thus we

should be at once in possession of the idea of the absolute being,

founded on itself; that is to say, of the _idea of freedom_. The

condition must have a foundation, and as it is not through the person,

and is not therefore absolute, it must be a _sequence_ and a _result_;

and thus, in the second place, we should have arrived at the condition

of every independent being, of everything in the process of becoming

something else: that is, of the idea of _time_. “Time is the necessary

condition of all processes, of becoming (Werden);” this is an identical

proposition, for it says nothing but this: “That something may follow,

there must be a succession.”

The person which manifested itself in the eternally continuing Ego, or I

myself, and only in him, cannot become something or begin in time,

because it is much rather time that must begin with him, because the

permanent must serve as basis to the changeable. That change may take

place, something must change; this something cannot therefore be the

change itself. When we say the flower opens and fades, we make of this

flower a permanent being in the midst of this transformation; we lend

it, in some sort, a personality, in which these two conditions are

manifested. It cannot be objected that man is born, and becomes

something; for man is not only a person simply, but he is a person

finding himself in a determinate condition. Now our determinate state of

condition springs up in time, and it is thus that man, as a phenomenon

or appearance, must have a beginning, though in him pure intelligence is

eternal. Without time, that is, without a becoming, he would not be a

determinate being; his personality would exist virtually no doubt, but

not in action. It is not by the succession of its perceptions that the

immutable Ego or person manifests himself to himself.

Thus, therefore, the matter of activity, or reality, that the supreme

intelligence draws from its own being, must be _received_ by man; and he

does, in fact, receive it, through the medium of perception, as

something which is outside him in space, and which changes in him in

time. This matter which changes in him is always accompanied by the Ego,

the personality, that never changes; and the rule prescribed for man by

his rational nature is to remain immutably _himself_ in the midst of

change, to refer all perceptions to experience, that is, to the unity of

knowledge, and to make of each of its manifestations of its modes in

time the law of all time. The matter only exists in as far as it

changes: _he_, his personality, only exists in as far as he does not

change. Consequently, represented in his perfection, man would be the

permanent unity, which remains always the same, among the waves of

change.

Now, although an infinite being, a divinity could not _become_ (or be

subject to time), still a tendency ought to be named divine which has

for its infinite end the most characteristic attribute of the divinity;

the absolute manifestation of power—the reality of all the possible—and

the absolute unity of the manifestation (the necessity of all reality).

It cannot be disputed that man bears within himself, in his personality,

a predisposition for divinity. The way to divinity—if the word “way” can

be applied to what never leads to its end—is open to him in every

_direction_.

Considered in itself, and independently of all sensuous matter, his

personality is nothing but the pure virtuality of a possible infinite

manifestation; and so long as there is neither intuition nor feeling, it

is nothing more than a form, an empty power. Considered in itself, and

independently of all spontaneous activity of the mind, sensuousness can

only make a material man; without it, it is a pure form; but it cannot

in any way establish a union between matter and it. So long as he only

feels, wishes, and acts under the influence of desire, he is nothing

more than the world, if by this word we point out only the formless

contents of time. Without doubt, it is only his sensuousness that makes

his strength pass into efficacious acts, but it is his personality alone

that makes this activity his own. Thus, that he may not only be a world,

he must give form to matter, and in order not to be a mere form, he must

give reality to the virtuality that he bears in him. He gives matter to

form by creating time, and by opposing the immutable to change, the

diversity of the world to the eternal unity of the Ego. He gives a form

to matter by again suppressing time, by maintaining permanence in

change, and by placing the diversity of the world under the unity of the

Ego.

Now from this source issue for man two opposite exigencies, the two

fundamental laws of sensuous-rational nature. The first has for its

object absolute _reality_; it must make a world of what is only form,

manifest all that in it is only a force. The second law has for its

object absolute _formality_; it must destroy in him all that is only

world, and carry out harmony in all changes. In other terms, he must

manifest all that is internal, and give form to all that is external.

Considered in its most lofty accomplishment, this twofold labor brings

back to the idea of humanity, which was my starting-point.

Aesthetical and philosophical essays · 第 39 / 85 题