attention in the history of philosophy: the tendency which is found
there, to _return_ to one or other of the philosophies of the past, or,
more correctly, to one or other of the philosophic points of view of
the past. The thirteenth century returned to Aristotle, the Renaissance
to Plato; Bruno revived the philosophy of Cusanus, Gassendi that of
Epicurus; Hegel wished to renew Heraclitus; Herbart, Parmenides;
in recent times a return has been made to Kant, and in times yet
more recent to Hegel. These are spiritual movements, which must be
understood in all their seriousness. This consists wholly in the need
of the philosophic spirit of a certain moment, which, struggling with
an error, discovers the true concept with which it should be corrected,
or at least, the superior and more ample suggestion, to which we
must pass in order to progress. And since that concept or suggestion
had already been represented in an eminent degree in the past by one
particular philosopher, or by one particular school, they speak of the
necessity of again asserting the superiority of that philosopher and
his school against other philosophers and other schools. In reality
neither Aristotle nor Plato returns, nor Cusanus nor Epicurus, nor
Heraclitus nor Parmenides, nor Kant nor Hegel; but only the mental
positions of which these names are, in those cases, the symbols. The
eternal Platonism, Aristotelianism, Heracliteanism, Eleaticism are in
us, as they were formerly in Plato and in Aristotle, in Heraclitus and
in Parmenides. Divested of those historical names, they are called
transcendentalism and immanentism, evolutionism and anti-evolutionism,
and so on. To the philosophers of the past, as men of the past, no
return is made, because _no return is possible._ The past lives in the
present and the pretence of returning to it is equivalent to that of
destroying the present, in which alone it lives. Those who understand
_ideal_ returns in this _empirical_ sense, do not in truth know what
they are saying.
[Sidenote: _The false idea of a history of philosophy as the history of
the successive appearances in time of the categories and of errors._]
But just because the phenomenology of error and the system of the
categories are outside time, we must also recognize the fallacy of a
history of philosophy which expounds the development of philosophic
thought as a successive appearance in time of the various philosophic
categories and of the various forms of error. On this view the human
race seems to begin to think truly philosophically at a definite moment
of time and at a definite point of space; for example at a definite
year of the seventh or sixth century before Christ, at a definite
point of Asia Minor, with Thales, who surpassing mere fancy posits as
a philosophic concept the empirical concept of water; or in another
year and place, with Parmenides, who posits the first pure concept,
that of being. And it seems further to progress in philosophic thinking
with other thinkers, each of whom either discovers a concept or offers
a suggestion of one. Thus each takes the other's hand and they form
a chain which is prolonged to one who, more audacious and fortunate
than the others, gives his hand to the first, and unites them all in
a circle. After this, there would remain nothing else to do but to
dance eternally, as the stars dance in the imaginations of the poets,
without any further necessity to devise suggestions and to risk falling
into error. All this is brilliant but arbitrary. The categories are
outside time, because they are all and singly in every instant of
time, and therefore they cannot be divided and impersonated within
empirical and individual limits. It is not true that each philosophic
system has for its beginning a particular category or a particular
suggestion. A philosophic system, in the empirical signification of
the word, is a series of thoughts whose unity is the empirical bond of
the life of a definite individual. It is therefore without beginning,
since it does not constitute a true unity and refers on the one hand
to its predecessors, on the other to those who continue it, and on all
sides to its contemporaries. In the strict sense, in that system, in
so far as it is philosophic, there is always the whole of philosophy;
and therefore, as we have previously seen, all philosophic systems
(including materialism and scepticism) have, whether they admit it
or not, displayed or implied the same principle, which is the pure
concept, and every philosophy is idealism. Nor is it true that there
is progress in the history of philosophy, in the sense of the passage
from one category to another superior category, or from one suggestion
to another superior suggestion. Speaking empirically, we should have in
this case to admit regress also, because it is a fact that a return is
made to inferior categories and suggestions. Philosophically, we can
speak in this case, neither of progress nor of regress, seeing that
those categories and suggestions are eternal and outside time.
Finally, this conception of philosophic history itself declares its
untenability, since in its last term it is logically obliged to posit a
definitive philosophy (which is that represented by him who constructs
such a history of philosophy), whereas there is nothing definitive
in reality, which is perpetual development. Those very historians of
philosophy themselves, who have desired and in part attempted to give
actuality to that conception, have been perplexed at the assumption of
so great a responsibility as to proclaim a _definitive philosophy,_
that is to say, to decree the retirement of Thought and so of Reality.
[Sidenote: _Philosophism both of this false view and of the formula
concerning the identity of philosophy and history of philosophy._]
The error which appears in this conception of philosophic history, is
the same that we have already studied under the name of philosophism,
and which appears here in one of its special applications. The formula
of the error is the _identity of Philosophy with the History of
philosophy._ The sense in which this is meant is at once shown by the
tendency which exists in this identity of the two terms, to be enlarged
into a third term, that is to say, into the recognition of the identity
of philosophy and of the history of philosophy with the _Philosophy
of history._ And this Philosophy of philosophic history, like every
philosophy of history, converts representations and empirical concepts
into pure concepts assigning to each one the function which properly
belongs to the categories, corrupting philosophy and history and
becoming shipwrecked in a sort of mythologism and propheticism.
[Sidenote: _Distinction between this false idea of a history of
philosophy and the books that are so entitled or profess a like
programme._]
But, as in the case of the philosophy of history in general, so also in
this application of it to the history of philosophy, it is necessary
to recognize the elements of truth. These lie in the works of genius
in _historical characterization,_ which under this guise have been
achieved by various thinkers and in various epochs of philosophy.
Certainly Plato is not only transcendental, nor is Aristotle only
immanentist; nor Kant only agnostic, nor Hegel only logical, nor
Epicurus only materialist, nor Descartes only dualist; nor is Greek
thought concerned only with objectivity, nor modern thought with
subjectivity alone. But history takes shape as historical narrative,
by noting the prominent traits of the various individuals and of the
various epochs. Without this process it would be impossible to divide,
to summarize, or to record it; without the introduction of empirical
concepts, history could not be fixed in the memory.[1] By means of
those characterizations, it also happens that historical names can be
taken as symbols of truths and errors: all the crudity of dualism is
expressed in Descartes, the paradox of determinism in Spinoza, that of
abstract pluralism in Leibnitz. We owe (as is admitted by all those
competent to judge) the elevation of the history of philosophy from a
chronicle or an erudite collection to history properly so-called, to
historians of philosophy who were tainted with philosophism. And since
Hegel was the first and greatest of those historians, we must impute to
Hegel the arbitrary act that he committed, but also the merit of having
been the first to give a history of philosophy worthy of the name
and accord to him all the more merit, in so far as he almost always
corrected in execution the errors of his original plan.[2]
[Sidenote: _Exact formula: identity of philosophy and of history._]
This original plan (and in general the position taken up by the system
of Hegel) may perhaps be considered as a deviation and aberration
from a just impulse, which still awaits its legitimate satisfaction.
This satisfaction we have attempted to give, by going deeply into the
meaning of the Kantian _a priori_ synthesis and by establishing the
identity of philosophy and history. Thus, as regards the question at
issue, the formula that we oppose to Hegel's formula of the identity
of _philosophy and history of philosophy,_ is that of the identity
of _philosophy and history._ This difference may at first sight seem
non-existent or very slight, but yet it is substantial. Philosophy is
indeed identical with history, because by solving historical problems
it affirms itself, and is in this way identical with the history of
philosophy, not because this is separable from other histories, or has
precedence over them, but for precisely the contrary reason, that it
is altogether inseparable from and completely fused in the totality
of history, according to the unity in distinction already explained.
Hence it is seen that philosophy does not originate in time, that
there are not philosophic men and non-philosophic men, that there are
not concepts belonging to one individual which another individual
is without, nor mental efforts which one makes and another does not
make, and that philosophy, or all the categories, operates at every
instant of the spiritual life, and at every instant of the spiritual
life operates upon material altogether new, given to it by history,
which for its part it helps to create. This amounts to saying that
from that concept we obtain the criticism of philosophism and of the
formula expressing the identity of Philosophy, History of Philosophy
and Philosophy of history; and a more exact idea of the history of
philosophy, free from the chains of an arbitrary classification.
[Sidenote: _The history of philosophy and philosophic progress._]
It may seem that in this way we destroy all idea of philosophic
progress; and certainly philosophy, taken in itself, that is to say
as an abstract category, does not progress any more than the category
of art or of morality progresses. But philosophy in its concreteness
progresses, like art and the whole of life; it progresses, because
reality is development, and development, including antecedents in
consequences, is progress. Every affirmation of truth is conditioned
by reality and conditions a new reality, which, in turn, is in its
progress, the condition of a new thought and of a new philosophy. In
this respect it is true that a philosophy which comes later in time,
contains the preceding philosophies in itself, and not only when it
is truly a philosophy, adequate to the new times, which comprehend
ancient times in themselves, but even when it is a simple suggestion,
of the kind we have called erroneous and in need of correction. As
erroneous suggestion it will be, ideally, inferior to the truths
already discovered. The scepticism of David Hume, for instance, is
inferior from this point of view, not only to Cartesianism, but even
to Scholasticism, to Platonism and to Socraticism. But historically it
is superior even to the most perfect of those philosophies, because it
is occupied with a problem which they did not propose to themselves
and initiates its solution, by forming a first attempt at solution,
however erroneous. Those perfect philosophies belong to the past, this,
though imperfect, has the future in itself. Thus it is explained how we
sometimes find far more to learn in philosophers who have maintained
errors than from others who have maintained truths; the errors of
the former are gold in the quartz, which when it has been purified
will add weight and value to the mass of gold, which is already in
our possession and has been preserved by the latter. Fanatics content
themselves with truths, however poor they are, and therefore seek those
who repeat them, even though they be poor of spirit. True thinkers seek
for adversaries, bristling with errors and rich with truth; they learn
from them, and while opposing, love and esteem them; indeed, their
opposing them is at the same time an act of esteem and of love.
[Sidenote: _The truth of all philosophies, and critique of
eclecticism._]
The philosophy which each one of us professes at a determinate moment,
in so far as it is adequate to the knowledge of facts and in the
proportion in which it is adequate, is the result of all preceding
history, and in it are organically brought together all systems,
all errors and all suggestions. If some error should appear to be
inexplicable, some suggestion without fruit, some concept incapable of
adoption, the new philosophy is to that extent more or less defective.
But the organic reconciliation, which preceding philosophies must find
in those that follow, cannot be the bare bringing them together in
time, and _eclecticism,_ as in those superficial spirits, who associate
fragments of all philosophies without mediation. Eclecticism (from
the historical point of view also, as for instance in the relation
of Victor Cousin to Hegel, whom he admired, imitated and failed to
understand) is the falsification or the caricature of the vastness of
thought, which embraces in itself all thoughts, though apparently the
most diverse and irreconcilable. The peace of the lazy, who do not
collide with one another, because they do not act, must not be made
sublime and confounded with the lofty peace that belongs to those who
have striven and have fraternized after strife, or, indeed, during the
actual combat.
[Sidenote: _Researches concerning the authors and precursors of truths:
and the reason for the antinomies which they exhibit._]
A proof of this _constancy_ of philosophy, which is immanent in all
philosophies and in all the thoughts of men, and also of its perpetual
variation and novelty of historical form, is to be found in the
questions that have been and are raised, concerning the _origin_ or
_discovery_ of truth. Hardly has the truth been discovered, when the
critics easily succeed in proving that it was already known, and begin
the search for _precursors._ And there can be no doubt that they are
right and their researches deserve to be followed up. Every assertion
of discovery, in so far as it seems to make a clear cut into the web
of history, has something arbitrary about it. Strictly speaking,
Socrates did not discover the concept, or Vico æsthetic fancy, or Kant
the _a priori_ synthesis, or Hegel the synthesis of opposites; nor
even perhaps, did Pythagoras discover the theorem of the square on the
hypotenuse, or Archimedes the law of the displacement of liquids. If
a discovery is represented as an explosion, this happens for reasons
of practical and mnemonic convenience in narrating and summarising
history; and, for that matter, the explosion, the eruption and the
earthquake are continuous processes. But the rational side of the
search for precursors must not cause the acceptance of the irrational
side, which is the denial of the _originality_ of discoveries, as
though they were to be found point for point in the precursors, or
as though they consisted only in the aggregation of elements which
pre-existed, or in like insignificant changes of form. To attach
oneself to precursors, does not mean to repeat them, but to continue
their work. This continuation is always new, original, and creative
and always gives rise to discoveries, be they small or great. To think
is to discover. The reduction to absurdity of the wrong meaning of
the search for precursors is to be found in the fact that every one
of the most important thoughts can be discovered in a certain sense
in common beliefs, in proverbs, in ways of speech, and among savages
and children. This is so much the case that by this path we can return
to the Utopia of an _ingenuous_ philosophy, outside history; whereas
philosophy is truly ingenuous or genuine only when it _is,_ and it is
not, save in History.
[Footnote 1: See above, Part II. Chap. III.]
[Footnote 2: See ch. ix. _What is Living and What is Dead of the
Philosophy of Hegel,_ by the Author, English translation by Douglas
Ainslie.]
VIII
"DE CONSOLATIONE PHILOSOPHIAE"
[Sidenote: _Logic and the defence of philosophy._]
Attacks upon Philosophy and defences of it have been made as more
or less academic exercises. But the true defence of it can only be
Philosophy itself, and above all, Logic, which, by determining the
concept of Philosophy, recognizes its necessity and function. And since
Logic itself teaches that a concept is not truly known, save in the
system where it is shown in all its relations, the complete defence is
obtained in our opinion only, when this treatise dedicated to _Logic_
is placed in relation to the preceding, which treats of _Æsthetic,_ and
with that which follows and has for its object the _Philosophy of the
practical._
[Sidenote: _The utility of Philosophy and the philosophy of the
practical._]
To this last must be relegated the complete elucidation of the problem
concerning the utility or non-utility of philosophy. It is a problem
about which We can here raise no fundamental question, if the equation
posited by us be true: philosophy = thought = history = perception
of reality. Thus the doubt concerning the utility of philosophy
would be of equal value with the extravagant doubt as to the utility
of knowledge. The philosophy of the practical also demonstrates
that no action is possible, save when preceded by knowledge, and
that presupposed in action there is always historical or perceptive
knowledge, that is, the knowledge which contains in itself all other
knowledge. And it also demonstrates that reality, being always will
and action, is always thought, and that therefore thought is not an
extrinsic adjunct, but an intrinsic category constitutive of the Real.
Reality is action, because it is thought, and it is thought because it
is action.
[Sidenote: _Consolation of philosophy, as joy in thought and in the
truth. Impossibility of a pleasure arising from falsity or illusion._]
If thought is so useful that without it the Real would not be, the
common concept of an unconsolatory philosophy cannot be accepted.
Consolation, pleasure, joy, is activity itself, which rejoices in
itself. So far as is known, no other mode of pleasure, joy and
consolation has yet been discovered. Now, knowledge of the true,
whatever it is, is activity and promotes activity, and therefore brings
with it its own consolation. "The truth, known, though it be sad, _has
its delights." _Not a few would wish to attribute these delights, not
to truth, but to _illusion._ But illusion is either not recognized as
illusion, or it is so recognized. When it is not recognized as such
and yet truly satisfies the mind, it cannot be called illusion, but
truth, which has its own good reasons, since nothing can be held to be
true without good reasons; it is that much of truth which can be noted
in the given circumstances and which from the point of view of a more
complete truth can only arbitrarily be called illusion: the consolation
given by the pretended illusion resides, therefore, in its truth--or
it is recognized as illusion, because the actual circumstances have
changed; and then it is anguish and desire to attain to the truth. If
there is no desire to attain to this truth, and if in order to avoid
it, affirmations are brought forward, which are not adequate to the
new conditions in which we find ourselves, there is error, which,
as such, is always more or less voluntary; and from error, which is
self-critical, arise evil conscience, and remorse, and so again anguish
and desire for the truth, which dissipates illusion and produces
consolation, because ... "the truth though it be sad, yet has its
delights."
[Sidenote: _Critique of the concept of a sad truth._]
Yet (it will be said), the true can be _sad;_ true, but sad. This
prejudice also should be eliminated. Truth is reality, and reality is
never either glad or sad, since it comprehends both these categories in
itself, and therefore surpasses them both. To judge reality to be sad,
it would have to be admitted that we possessed besides the idea of it,
the idea of _another_ reality, which should be better than the reality
known to us. But this is contradictory. The second reality would be not
real and therefore not thinkable, and so no idea at all of it could be
formed. And if we did attempt to form an idea of it, thought, entering
into contradiction with itself and striving in a vain effort, would be
seized with terror, and would produce, not that ideal reality, but at
the most an æsthetic expression of terror, like that of a man who looks
upon a bottomless abyss.
[Sidenote: _Examples: philosophical criticism and the concepts of God
and of Immortality._]
Once upon a time and even to-day many found and find consolation in
the idea of a personal God, who has created and governs the universe,
and of an immortal life, above this life of ours, which vanishes
at every instant. And this consolation seems to have diminished in
our times, or to many of us, owing to Philosophies. But he who does
not limit himself to the surface and analyses the state of soul of
sincere and noble believers, realizes that the God who comforted
them is the same who comforts us and whom our Philosophies call the
universal Spirit, immanent in all of us--the continuity and rationality
of the universe--just as the Immortality in which they reposed was
the immortality which transcends our individual actions, and in
transcending them, makes them eternal. All that is born is worthy to
perish; but in perishing, it is also preserved as an ideal moment of
what is born from it; and the universe preserves in itself all that
has ever been thought and done, because it is nothing but the organism
of these thoughts and actions. Philosophy has rendered those concepts
of God and of Immortality more exact, and has liberated them from
impurities and errors and thus at the same time from perplexities and
anguish; it has rendered them more, not less, consolatory. On the
other hand, the absurdity which mingled with those concepts, has never
consoled any one who seriously thought them--and serious thinking
of them is an indispensable condition of obtaining consolation from
concepts. If they are not thought, but mechanically repeated, the
consolation is obtained from something else, from distraction and
occupation with life lived, not from the concepts. In the effort
to think a God outside the world, a Despot of the world, we are
seized with a sense of fear for that God, who is a solitary being,
suffering from his omnipotence, which makes activity impossible for
him and dangerous for his creatures, who are his playthings. That God
becomes an object of maledictions. Equally, in seriously thinking our
immortality as empirical individuals, immobilized in our works and in
our affections (which are beautiful only because they are in motion and
fugitive), we are assailed by the terror, not of death, but of this
immortality, which is unthinkable because desolating and desolating
because unthinkable. Ideal immortality has generated the poetic
representations of Paradise, which are representations of infinite
peace; the false concepts of an empirical immortality can generate no
other representation than Swift's profoundly satirical picture of the
_Struldbrugs_ or immortals, plunged in all the miseries of life, unable
to die, and weeping with envy at the sight of a funeral.
[Sidenote: _Consolatory virtue belonging to all spiritual activities._]