CHAPTER IV.

THE GERMAN IDEALISTS

FICHTE, SCHELLING, HEGEL, SCHOPENHAUER, HERBART.

The Critical Philosophy won its first success in Germany less as a new

epistemology than as what, in fact, its author meant it to be, a

rehabilitation of religious belief. The limits of Reason had been drawn so

closely only to make room for Faith. But the current of Rationalism was

running too strongly to be so summarily stopped; and so with Kant's ablest

successors faith is altogether abandoned, while the claims of reason are

pushed relentlessly through. Among these more logical thinkers the first is

J. G. Fichte (1762-1814). In him--for the third time in modern history, for

the first and last time in Germany--the hero as philosopher finds a worthy

representative. Born in Silesia, like Kant of humble parentage, and bred in

circumstances of more oppressive poverty, he also received a severely

religious and moral training as a preparation for the pastoral office. The

bounty of an aristocratic patron gave him an excellent public-school

education; but as a university student, first at Jena and then at Leipzig,

he had to earn a scanty living by private tuition, finally abandoning his

destined career to accept a post in a Swiss family at Zurich. There, as the

result of an attachment in which the love was nearly all on the lady's

side, he became engaged to a niece of the poet Klopstock, and after a long

delay, caused by money {102} difficulties, was enabled to marry her. In the

meantime he had become a convert to Kant's philosophy, winning the

admiration of the old master himself by a _Critique of all Revelation_,

written in four weeks. Published anonymously by an oversight, it was

generally attributed to Kant himself, and, on the real authorship becoming

known, won for Fichte an extraordinary Professorate of Philosophy at Jena,

where his success as a lecturer and writer gave him for a time the

leadership in German speculation (1794-1799). An untoward incident brought

this stage of his career to an end. Writing in a philosophical review, he

defined God as "the moral order of the universe." Dr. Temple long

afterwards used much the same phrase when Bishop of Exeter, finding it,

presumably, compatible with official Theism; but such was not the

impression created in Saxony. A cry of atheism arose, much to the disgust

of Fichte, whose position would have been better described as pantheistic.

But what incensed him most was the suspicion of an attempt to interfere

with the liberty of academic teaching. With his usual impetuosity he talked

about resigning his chair--with a hint that others would follow his

example--were the authorities at Weimar to permit such an outrage. Goethe,

who was then Minister, observed that no Government could allow itself to be

threatened, and Fichte was at once relieved of his post. Settling at

Berlin, he became Professor of Philosophy in the new University founded

after the French conquest of Prussia, having previously done much to revive

the national spirit by his _Addresses to the German Nation_ (1807-1808).

These were in appearance the programme of a new educational Utopia; but

their real purpose was so evident that the speaker lived in daily

expectation of being summoned {103} before a French court-martial and shot.

Unlike his countrymen, Goethe, Hegel, and Schopenhauer, Fichte passionately

resented the Napoleonic despotism, throwing himself heart and soul into the

great uprising by which it was finally overthrown. Although his wish to

accompany the victorious army as field preacher could not be gratified, the

campaign of 1813 still claimed him as one of its victims. After nursing his

heroic wife to recovery from a hospital fever caught in attendance on the

sick and wounded at Berlin, he took the infection from her and died early

in 1814, soon after hearing that Bluecher had crossed the Rhine.

G. H. Lewes, in a well-known story, has made himself and his readers merry

over a German savant who undertakes to evolve the idea of a camel out of

the depths of his moral consciousness. The phrase is commonly quoted as

"inner consciousness," but this takes away its whole point. For the

original satirist, who, I think, was not Lewes, but Heine, had in view the

philosophy of Fichte. It need hardly be said that German savants are as

careful observers and diligent collectors of facts as any others; and

Fichte in particular trusted solely to experience for the knowledge of

natural phenomena. But even as regards his general philosophy the place it

gives to morality has been misconceived even by his closest students. With

him goodwill really plays a less important part than with Kant, being not

an end in itself, but a means towards an end. And what that end is his

teaching makes quite clear.

Kant's first critics put their finger on the weak point of his system, the

thing in itself. So, assuming it to be discarded, Fichte set to work on new

lines, the lines of pure idealism. But, though an idealist, he is not, any

more than Berkeley, a solipsist. The celebrated {104} antithesis of the ego

and the non-ego dates from him, and strikes the keynote of his whole

system. It might be thought that, as compared with the old realism, this

was a distinction without a difference. But that is not so; for, according

to Fichte, the non-ego is subjective in its origin, and that is where he

departs widely from Berkeley's theological idealism. Not that I create the

not-myself; I _assume_ it as the condition of my self-consciousness--a

remarkable feat of logic, but after all not more wonderful than that space

and time should result from the activity of the outer and inner senses.

This figment of my imagination is anyhow solid enough to beget a new

feeling of resistance and recoil, throwing the self back on itself, and

bringing with it the interpretation of that external impact by the category

of causation, of its own activity as substance, and of the whole deal

between the ego and the non-ego as interaction or reciprocity. In this way

the first triad of thesis, antithesis, and synthesis is obtained; and from

this, by a vast expenditure of ingenuity, the whole array of Kant's forms,

categories, and faculties is evolved as a coherent system of scientific

thought in obedience to a single principle--the self-realisation of the

ego, alternatively admitting and transcending a limit to its activity.

It will be easily understood that this self-realising ego is neither

Fichte's nor anyone else's self, but a universal principle, fundamentally

the same in all. One is reminded of Descartes's self-thinking thought by

which the reality of the universe was guaranteed; but between the two there

is this vast difference, that the Frenchman's ego resembles a box

containing a variety of independent ideas, to be separately handled and

examined; the German's is a box enclosing a coiled-up spring by {105} the

expansion of which all the wheels of the philosophical machine are made go

round. From the action of the not-self on the self results the whole of

nature as we conceive it; from the reaction of the self on the not-self,

the whole mentality and morality of man--morality being understood to

include the domestic, social, political, educational, and industrial

organisation of life. The final cause, the impelling ideal of existence, is

the self-realisation of the ego, the entire absorption into its personal

energy of the non-ego, of nature, to be effected by perfect knowledge of

how the physical universe is constituted issuing in perfect subjugation of

its forces to the human will. But such a realisation of the Absolute Ego

would mean its annihilation, for, as we have seen, the antithesis between

objective and subjective is the very condition of consciousness that

without which it could neither begin nor continue to exist. Therefore the

process must go on for ever, and this necessity guarantees the eternal

duration of the human race--not, as Kant had dreamed, of the individual

soul, since for Fichte the Categorical Imperative demands a consummation

widely different from that combination of virtue with happiness which had

satisfied his master. And the agency by which it is being effected through

infinite time is not a personal God, but that moral order of the world

which Fichte regarded as the only true object of religious feeling. As for

human immortality, he seems to have first accepted, but afterwards rejected

it in favour of a mystical union with the divine.

It has been said that morality was not with Fichte what it had been with

Kant--the highest good. Nevertheless, as a means towards the final

synthesis, morality interested him intensely, and his best work has been

{106} done in ethics. As a condition of self-realisation the primal ego

becomes personified in a multitude of free individualities. Just as in

Stoicism, each individual is conceived as having a special office to

perform in the world-process, and the State exists--ideally speaking--in

order to guarantee the necessary independence of all its citizens. For this

purpose everyone must have the right to work and the right to a living

wage. Thus Fichte appears as the first theorist of State Socialism in the

history of German thought. Probably the example of the Greek Stoics with

their communistic utopias acting on a kindred spirit, rather than any

prophetic vision of the coming century, is to be credited for this

remarkable anticipation.

SCHELLING.

German philosophy is prolific of self-contradictions; and so far the most

flagrant example has been offered by Fichte's _Theory of Knowledge_,

starting as it does with the idea of an impersonal ego, developing through

a process in which this selfless self demands its own negation at every

step, and determined by the prospect of a catastrophe that would be the

annihilation of consciousness itself. In fact, there seemed no need to wait

until time had run out; the self, or, as it was now called, the subject,

had absorbed all reality, only to find that the material universe,

reconstituted as the object of knowledge, was an indispensable condition of

its existence. And meanwhile the physical sciences, more particularly those

concerned with inorganic nature, were entering on a series of triumphs

unparalleled since the days of Newton. Philosophy must come to terms with

these or cease to exist.

The task of reconciliation was first attempted by {107} F. W. J. Schelling

(1775-1854), a Suabian, and the first South German who made a name in pure

philosophy. Educated at the University of Tuebingen, at an early age he

covered an encyclopaedic range of studies and began authorship at nineteen,

gaining a professorship at Jena four years later. Wandering about from one

university to another, and putting forward new opinions as often as he

changed his residence, the young adventurer ceased to publish after 1813,

and remained silent till in 1841 he came forward at Berlin as the champion

of a reactionary current, practically renouncing the naturalistic pantheism

by which his early reputation had been made. But he utterly failed in the

attempt, which was finally abandoned in the fifth year from its inception.

Lewes, who saw Schelling in his old age, describes him as remarkably like

Socrates; his admirers called him a modern Plato; but he had nothing of the

deep moral earnestness that characterised either, nor indeed was morality

needed for the work that he actually did. This, to use the phrase of his

fellow-student Hegel, consisted in raising philosophy to its absolute

standpoint, in passing from the subjective moralism of the eighteenth

century to the all-comprehensive systematisation of the nineteenth.

Schelling began as a disciple of Fichte, but he came simultaneously under

the influence of Spinoza, whose fame had been incessantly spreading through

the last generation in Germany, with some reinforcement from the revived

name of Bruno. Their teaching served to make the latent pantheism of Fichte

more explicit, while the great contemporary discoveries gave a new interest

to the study of nature, which Fichte, unlike Kant, had put in the

background, strictly subordinating it to the moral service of man. Had he

cared to evolve {108} the idea of a camel from his moral consciousness, the

operation would not have demanded several years, but only a few minutes'

thought. As thus: the moral development of humanity needed the co-operation

of such a race as the Semites. To form their character a long residence in

the Arabian deserts was needed. But for such nomads an auxiliary animal

would be needed with long legs and neck, a stomach for storing water, hump,

etc.--Q. E. D. Schelling also began by explaining the material world as a

preparation for the spiritual; only he did not employ the method of

teleological adaptation, but a method of rather fanciful analogy. As the

evolution of self-conscious reason had proceeded by a triple movement of

thesis, antithesis, and synthesis, so a parallel process had to be

discovered in the advance towards a consciousness supposed to be exhibited

in organic and inorganic nature.

The fundamental idea of natural philosophy is polarity--opposite forces

combining to neutralise one another and then parting to be reunited at a

higher stage of evolution. Thus attraction and repulsion--represented as

space and time--by their synthesis compose matter; magnetism and

electricity produce chemical affinity; life results from a triad of

inorganic forces; in life itself productivity and irritability give birth

to sensibility. The order of the terms made little, if any, difference.

When long afterwards iron was magnetised by the electric current, Schelling

claimed for himself the credit of anticipating this discovery, although he

had placed magnetism before electricity.

The next step was to construct a philosophy of history. This, with much

else, is included under the name of _A System of Transcendental Idealism_

(1800) in the most finished of Schelling's literary compositions. {109}

History, according to the view here unfolded, is the gradual

self-revelation of God, or the Absolute, in whom Nature and Spirit are

united and identified, who never is nor can be, but always is to be.

Meanwhile the supreme ideal is not that ever-increasing mastery of nature

by man which Fichte contemplated, but their reconciliation as achieved by

Art. For just as natural philosophy carried an element of consciousness

into the material universe, so aestheticism recognises a corresponding

element of unconscious creation in the supreme works of artistic genius

where spirit reaches its highest and best. Here Schelling appears as the

philosopher of Romanticism, a movement that characterised German thought

from 1795 to 1805, and is known to ourselves by the faded and feeble image

of it exhibited in a certain section of English society nearly a century

later. Beginning with a more cultivated intelligence of Hellenic antiquity,

this movement rapidly grew into a new appreciation of medieval culture,

falsely supposed to have given more scope to individuality than modern

civilisation, and then into a search for ever-varying sources of excitement

or distraction in the whole history, art, and literature of past or present

times, religion being at last singled out as the vitalising principle of

all.

Singularly enough, Fichte accepted the _Transcendental Idealism_ as an

orthodox exposition of his own philosophy. But its composition seems to

have given Schelling the consciousness of his own independence. Soon

afterwards he defined the new position as a philosophy of Identity or of

Indifference. Nature and Spirit, like Spinoza's Thought and Extension, were

all the same and all one--that is to say, in their totality or in the

Absolute. For, considered as appearances, {110} they might present

quantitative differences determined by the varying preponderance of the

objective or of the subjective side. In this way Schelling found himself

able to repeat his fanciful construction of the forces and forms of nature

in successive triads under new names. The essential departure from Fichte,

who repudiated the Philosophy of Identity with undisguised contempt, was

that it practically repudiated the idea of an eternal progress in man's

ever-growing mastery of nature. But, in spite of all disclaimers, the

master silently followed his former disciple's evolution in the direction

of a pantheistic monism. His later writings represent God no longer as the

moral order of the world, but, like Spinoza, as the world's eternal Being,

of which man's knowledge is the reflected image. Finally, both philosophers

accepted the Christian doctrines of the Fall, the Incarnation, and the

Trinity as mythical symbols of an eternal process in which God, after

becoming alienated from himself in the material universe, returns to

himself in man's consciousness of identity with the Absolute. Instead of

the rather abrupt method of position, negation, and re-affirmation known as

Thesis, Antithesis, and Synthesis, we have here the more fluid process of a

spiral movement, departing from and returning to itself. And this was to be

the very mainspring of the system that next comes up for consideration.

HEGEL.

{111}

[Illustration: Hegel

(_Copyright B. P. C._)]

{112} G. W. F. Hegel (1770-1831), in the opinion of some good judges

Germany's greatest philosopher, was, like Schelling, a Suabian, and

intimately associated with his younger contemporary, first at Tuebingen and

afterwards at Jena, where the two friends jointly conducted a philosophical

review. But they gradually drifted apart. Hegel was not a romanticist, but

a classic; not a naturalist, but a humanist. Largely influenced by Greek

thought and Greek literature, for which he continued to be an enthusiast

through life, he readily accepted, as against Kant and Fichte, the change

from a purely subjective to an objective point of view. But, although he

gave some attention to physical science, Hegel was less interested in it

than his colleague, with whose crude and fanciful metaphysics he also

failed to sympathise. With the publication of Hegel's first important work,

the _Phenomenology of Mind_ (1807), things came to a breach; for its

preface amounts to a declaration of war against the philosophy of

Romanticism. Schelling himself is not named; but there is no mistaking the

object of certain picturesque references to "exploding the Absolute on us,"

and "the darkness in which every cow is black." Next year Hegel became what

we should call headmaster of a public school at Nuremberg, filling that

post for eight years, during which his greatest work, the _System of

Logic_, in three volumes, was composed and published. He then obtained a

chair of philosophy at Heidelberg, passing thence to Berlin in 1818, where

he taught until his death by cholera in 1831. David Strauss, who saw the

revered teacher a few days before the fatal seizure, describes him first as

he appeared in the lecture-room, "looking ever so old, bent and coughing";

then in his home, "looking ten years younger, with clear blue eyes, and

showing the most beautiful white teeth when he smiled." He had published a

summary of his whole system, under the name of an _Encyclopaedia of the

Philosophical Sciences_, in 1817, and a _Philosophy of Law_--which is

really a treatise on Government--in 1821. His {113} sympathies were with

bureaucratic absolutism in a modernised form, with Napoleon against the

German patriots, with the restored Prussian Government against the new

Liberalism, with English Toryism against the Whigs of the Reform Bill, and

finally with the admirers of war against the friends of peace.

Hegel's collected works, published after his death, fill over twenty

good-sized volumes. Besides the treatises already mentioned, they include

his _Lectures on the History of Philosophy_, the _Philosophy of History_,

the _Philosophy of Religion_, _Aesthetics_, etc., made up with much

literary skill from the Professor's own notes and from the reports of his

hearers. The most permanently valuable of these is the _Aesthetics_; but

any student desirous of getting a notion of Hegelianism at first hand had

better begin with the _Philosophy of History_, of which there is a good and

cheap English translation in one of Bohn's Libraries. Some general points

of view serving to connect the system with its predecessors are all that

room can be found for here.

As compared with Kant, Hegel is distinguished above all by his complete

abjuration of the agnostic standpoint in epistemology. "The universe is

penetrable to thought": an unknowable thing in itself does not exist.

Indeed, the intelligible reality of things is just what we know best; the

unaccountable residuum, if any, lurks in the details of their appearance.

So also in Greek philosophy Hegel holds that the truth was not in the ideal

world of Plato, but in the self-realising Forms of Aristotle. As against

Fichte, Hegel will not allow that the reconciliation of the subjective with

the objective is an infinitely "far-off divine event"; on the contrary, it

is a process being continually realised by ourselves and all about us. In

his homely expression, the very {114} animals as they eat turn their food

into consciousness, in utter disregard of prejudice. But Fichte's

condemnation of Schelling's Indifferentism is quite right. _The Absolute is

Mind_. Nature exists only as the lower stage, whence Spirit emerges to

contradict, to confront, and to explain her as the necessary preparation

for his supreme self-assertion. And Fichte was right in working out his

system by the dialectical method of contradiction and solution, as against

the dogmatism that summarily decrees the Absolute, without taking the

trouble to reason it out, in imitation of the plan pursued by the universe

in becoming conscious of itself.

The most portentous thing about Hegel's philosophy is this notion of the

world's having, so to speak, argued itself into existence. To rationalise

the sum of being, to explain, without assumptions, why there should be

anything, and then why it should be as we know it, had been a problem

suggested by Plato and solved rather summarily by Spinoza's challenge to

conceive Infinite Power as non-existing. Hegel is more patient and

ingenious; but, after all, his superiority merely consists in spinning the

web of arbitrary dialectic so fine that we can hardly see the thread. The

root-idea is to identify, or rather to confuse, causal evolution with

logic. The chain of causes and effects that constitutes the universe is

made out to be one with the series of reasons and consequents by which the

conclusion is demonstrated. As usual, the equation is effected by a

transference of terms from each side to the other. The categories and

processes of logic are credited with a life and movement that belongs only

to the human reasoner operating with them. And the moving, interacting

masses of which the material universe consists are represented as parties

to a dialectical {115} discussion in which one denies what the other

asserts until it is discovered, on lifting the argument to a higher plane,

that after all they are agreed. Nor is this all. The world as we know it is

composed of co-existent elements grouped together or distinguished

according to their resemblances and differences as so many natural kinds;

and of successive events linked together as causes and effects. But while

there is no general law of coexistence except such as may be derived from

the collocation of the previously existing elements whence they are

derived, there _is_ a law of causal succession--namely, this, that the

quantities of mass and energy involved are conserved without loss or gain

through all time. Now, Hegel's way of rationalising or, in plainer words,

accounting for the coexistent elements and their qualities, is to bring

them under a supposed law of complementary opposition, revived from

Heracleitus, according to which everything necessarily involves the

existence, both in thought and reality, of its contradictory. And the same

principle is applied to causal succession--a proceeding which would be

fatal to the scientific law of conservation.

There is another way of rationalising experience--namely, the theological

hypothesis of a supreme intelligence by which the world was created and is

governed with a view to the attainment of some ultimate good. And there is

a sort of teleology in Hegel evidently inspired by his religious education.

But the two do not mean the same thing. For he places conscious reason not

at the beginning but at the end of evolution. The rationality of things is

immanent, not transcendent. Purposes somehow work retrospectively so as to

determine the course of events towards a good end. That end is

self-consciousness--not yours or mine, but the {116} world-spirit's

consciousness and possession of itself. And this is reached in four ways:

in Art by intuition, in Religion by representation, in Philosophy by

conception, in History and Politics by the realisation of righteousness

through the agency of the modern State.

Hegel looked on this world and this life of ours as the only world and the

only life. When Heine pointed to the starry skies he told the young poet

that the stars were a brilliant leprosy on the face of the heavens, and met

the appeal for future compensation with the sarcastic observation: "So you

expect a trinkgeld for nursing your sick mother and for not poisoning your

brother!"

German historians have justly extolled the ingenuity, the subtlety, the

originality, the systematising power--unequalled since Aristotle--and the

enormous knowledge of their country's chief idealist. But this, after all,

amounts to no more than claiming for Hegel that much of what he said is

true and that much is new. The vital question is whether what is new is

also true--and this is more than they seem prepared to maintain.

SCHOPENHAUER.

The leaders of the party known in the fourth and fifth decades of the last

century as Young Germany, among whom Heinrich Heine (1797-1856) was the

most brilliant and famous, were more or less associated with the Hegelian

school. They were, however, what Hegel was not, political revolutionists

with a tendency to Socialism; while their religious rationalism, unlike

his, was openly proclaimed. The temporary collapse in 1849 of the movement

they initiated brought discredit on idealism as represented by Germany's

classic philosophers, which also had been seriously damaged by the luminous

criticism of Trendelenburg, the neo-Aristotelian professor at Berlin

(1802-1872).

{117}

[Illustration: SCHOPENHAUER]

{118} At this crisis attention was drawn to the long-neglected writings of

Arthur Schopenhauer (1788-1860), which then attained a vogue that they

never since have lost. The son of a Hamburg banker and of a literary lady

whose novels enjoyed some reputation in their day, he was placed from the

beginning in a position of greater material and social independence than

usually falls to the lot of German thinkers; and to this, combined with the

fact that he failed entirely as a university teacher, it is partly due that

he wrote about philosophy not like a pedant, but like a man of the world.

At the same time the German professors, resenting the intrusion of an

outsider on their privileged domain, were strong enough to prevent the

reading public from ever hearing of Schopenhauer's existence until an

article in the _Westminster Review_ (April, 1853) astonished Germany by the

revelation that she possessed a thinker whom the man in the street could

understand.

Schopenhauer found his earliest teachers of philosophy in Plato and Kant.

He then attended Fichte's lectures at Berlin. At some uncertain

date--probably soon after taking his doctor's degree in 1813--at the

suggestion of an Orientalist he took up the study of the Vedanta system.

All these various influences converged to impress him with the belief that

the things of sense are a delusive appearance under which a fundamental

reality lies concealed. According to Hegel, the reality is reason; but the

Romanticists, with Schelling at their head, never accepted his conclusion,

thinking of the absolute rather as a blind, unconscious substance; still

less could it please {119} Schopenhauer, who sought for the supreme good

under the form of happiness conceived as pleasure unalloyed by pain. A

gloomy and desponding temperament combined, as in the case of Byron and

Rousseau, with passionately sensuous instincts and anti-social habits,

debarred him from attaining it. The loss of a large part of his private

fortune, and the world's refusal to recognise his genius, completed what

natural temperament had begun; and it only remained for the philosophy of

the Upanishads to give a theoretic sanction to the resulting state of mind

by teaching that all existence is in itself an evil--a position which

placed him in still more thoroughgoing antagonism to Hegel.

It will be remembered that Kant's criticism had denied the human mind all

knowledge of things in themselves, and that the post-Kantian systems had

been so many efforts to get at the Absolute in its despite. But none had

stated the question at issue so clearly as Schopenhauer put it, or answered

it in such luminous terms. Like theirs, his solution is idealist; but the

idealism is constructed on new lines. If we know nothing else, we know

ourselves; only it has to be ascertained what exactly we are. Hegel said

that the essence of consciousness is reason, and that reason is the very

stuff of which the world is made. No, replies Schopenhauer, that is a

one-sided scholastic view. Much the most important part of ourselves is

_not_ reason, but that very unreasonable thing called will--that aimless,

hopeless, infinite, insatiable craving which is the source of all our

activity and of all our misery as well. _This_ is the thing-in-itself, the

timeless, inextended entity behind all phenomena, come to the consciousness

of itself, but also of its utter futility, in man. {120}

The cosmic will presents itself to us objectively under the form of the

great natural forces--gravitation, heat, light, electricity, chemical

affinity, etc.; then as the organising power of life in vegetables and

animals; finally as human self-consciousness and sociability. These,

Schopenhauer says, are what is really meant by the Platonic ideas, and they

figure in his philosophy as first differentiations of the primordial will,

coming between its absolute unity and the individualised objects and events

that fill all space and time. It is the function of architecture, plastic

art, painting, and poetry to give each of these dynamic ideas, singly or in

combination, its adequate interpretation for the aesthetic sense. One art

alone brings us a direct revelation of the real world, and that is music.

Musical compositions have the power to express not any mere ideal

embodiment of the underlying will, but the will itself in all its majesty

and unending tragic despair.

Schopenhauer's theory of knowledge is given in the essay by which he

obtained his doctor's degree, _On the Four-fold Root of the Sufficient

Reason_. Notwithstanding this rather alarming title, it is a singularly

clear and readable work. The standpoint is a simplification of Kant's

_Critique_. The objects of consciousness offer themselves to the thinking,

acting subject as grouped presentations in which there is "nothing sudden,

nothing single." (1) When a new object appears to us, it must have a cause,

physical, physiological, or psychological; and this we call the reason why

it becomes. (2) Objects are referred to concepts of more or less

generality, according to the logical rules of definition, classification,

and inference; that is the reason of their being known. (3) Objects are

mathematically determined by their position relatively to {121} other

objects in space and time; that is the reason of their being. (4) Practical

objects or ends of action are determined by motives; the motive is the

reason why one thing rather than another is done.

The last "sufficient reason" takes us to ethics. Schopenhauer agrees with

Kant in holding that actions considered as phenomena are strictly

determined by motives, so much so that a complete knowledge of a man's

character and environment would enable us to predict his whole course of

conduct through life. Nevertheless, each man, as a timeless subject, is and

knows himself to be free. To reconcile these apparently conflicting

positions we must accept Plato's theory that each individual's whole fate

has been determined by an ante-natal or transcendental choice for which he

always continues responsible. Nevertheless, cases of religious "conversion"

and the like prove that the eternal reality of the Will occasionally

asserts itself in radical transformations of character and conduct.

In ethics Schopenhauer distinguishes between two ideals which may be called

"relative" and "absolute" good. Relative good agrees with the standard of

what in England is known as Universalistic Hedonism--the greatest pleasure

combined with the least pain for all sensitive beings, each agent counting

for no more than one. Personally passionate, selfish, and brutal,

Schopenhauer still had a righteous abhorrence of cruelty to animals;

whereas Kant had no such feeling. But positive happiness is a delusion, and

no humanity can appreciably diminish the amount of pain produced by vital

competition--recognised by our philosopher before Darwin--in the world.

Therefore Buddhism is right, and the higher morality bids us extirpate the

{122} will-to-live altogether by ascetic practices and meditation on the

universal vanity of things. Suicide is not allowed, for while annihilating

the intelligence it would not exclude some fresh incarnation of the will.

And the last dying wish of Schopenhauer was that the end of this life might

be the end of all living for him.

HERBART.

J. F. Herbart (1776-1841) occupies a peculiar position among German

idealists. Like the others, he distinguishes between reality and

appearance; and, like Schopenhauer in particular, he altogether rejects

Hegel's identification of reality with reason. But, alone among

post-Kantian metaphysicians, he is a pluralist. According to him,

things-in-themselves, the eternal existents underlying all phenomena, are

not one, but many. So far his philosophy is a return to the pre-Kantian

system of Wolf and Leibniz; but whereas the monads of Leibniz were credited

with an inward principle of evolution carrying them for ever onward through

an infinite series of progressive changes, Herbart pushes his metaphysical

logic to the length of denying all change and all movement to the eternal

entities of which reality is made up.

Herbart is entitled to the credit--whatever it may be worth--of devising a

system unlike every other in history; for while Hegel has a predecessor in

Heracleitus, his rival combines the Eleatic immobilism with a pluralism

that is all his own. It is not, however, on these paradoxes that his

reputation rests, but on more solid services as a psychologist and an

educationalist. Without any acquaintance, as would seem, with the work

doing in Britain, Herbart discarded the old faculty psychology, conceiving

mentality as made up {123} of "presentations," among which a constant

competition for the field of consciousness is going on; and it is to this

view that such terms as "inhibition" and "threshold of consciousness" are

due. And the enormous prominence now given to the idea of value in ethics

may be traced back to the teaching of a thinker whom he greatly influenced,

F. E. Beneke (1798-1854).

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History of Modern Philosophy · 第 4 / 5 章