setting themselves before life and experience--before that which they
call the world of appearance--as before a picture that is once for
all unrolled and exhibits unchangeably fixed the same process,--this
process, they think, must be rightly interpreted in order to come to
a conclusion about the being that produced the picture: about the
thing-in-itself, therefore, which is always accustomed to be regarded
as sufficient ground for the world of phenomenon. On the other hand,
since one always makes the idea of the metaphysical stand definitely
as that of the unconditioned, _consequently_ also unconditioning, one
must directly disown all connection between the unconditioned (the
metaphysical world) and the world which is known to us; so that the
thing-in-itself should most certainly _not_ appear in the phenomenon,
and every conclusion from the former as regards the latter is to be
rejected. Both sides overlook the fact that that picture--that which
we now call human life and experience--has gradually evolved,--nay,
is still in the full process of evolving,--and therefore should not
be regarded as a fixed magnitude from which a conclusion about its
originator might be deduced (the sufficing cause) or even merely
neglected. It is because for thousands of years we have looked into
the world with moral, æsthetic, and religious pretensions, with blind
inclination, passion, or fear, and have surfeited ourselves in the
vices of illogical thought, that this world has gradually _become_ so
marvellously motley, terrible, full of meaning and of soul, it has
acquired colour--but we were the colourists; the human intellect,
on the basis of human needs, of human emotions, has caused this
"phenomenon" to appear and has carried its erroneous fundamental
conceptions into things. Late, very late, it takes to thinking, and
now the world of experience and the thing-in-itself seem to it so
extraordinarily different and separated, that it gives up drawing
conclusions from the former to the latter--or in a terribly mysterious
manner demands the renunciation of our intellect, of our personal
will, in order _thereby_ to reach the essential, that one may _become
essential._ Again, others have collected all the characteristic
features of our world of phenomenon,--that is, the idea of the world
spun out of intellectual errors and inherited by us,--and _instead of
accusing the intellect_ as the offenders, they have laid the blame on
the nature of things as being the cause of the hard fact of this very
sinister character of the world, and have preached the deliverance
from Being. With all these conceptions the constant and laborious
process of science (which at last celebrates its greatest triumph in a
_history of the origin of thought_) becomes completed in various ways,
the result of which might perhaps run as follows:--"That which we now
call the world is the result of a mass of errors and fantasies which
arose gradually in the general development of organic being, which
are inter-grown with each other, and are now inherited by us as the
accumulated treasure of all the past,--as a treasure, for the value of
our humanity depends upon it. From this world of representation strict
science is really only able to liberate us to a very slight extent--as
it is also not at all desirable--inasmuch as it cannot essentially
break the power of primitive habits of feeling; but it can gradually
elucidate the history of the rise of that world as representation,--and
lift us, at least for moments, above and beyond the whole process.
Perhaps we shall then recognise that the thing in itself is worth a
Homeric laugh; that it _seemed_ so much, indeed everything, and _is_
really empty, namely, empty of meaning."
17.
METAPHYSICAL EXPLANATIONS.--The young man values metaphysical
explanations, because they show him something highly significant
in things which he found unpleasant or despicable, and if he is
dissatisfied with himself, the feeling becomes lighter when he
recognises the innermost world-puzzle or world-misery in that which he
so strongly disapproves of in himself. To feel himself less responsible
and at the same time to find things more interesting--that seems to
him a double benefit for which he has to thank metaphysics. Later on,
certainly, he gets distrustful of the whole metaphysical method of
explanation; then perhaps it grows clear to him that those results can
be obtained equally well and more scientifically in another way: that
physical and historical explanations produce the feeling of personal
relief to at least the same extent, and that the interest in life and
its problems is perhaps still more aroused thereby.
18.
FUNDAMENTAL QUESTIONS OF METAPHYSICS.--When the history of the rise
of thought comes to be written, a new light will be thrown on the
following statement of a distinguished logician:--"The primordial
general law of the cognisant subject consists in the inner necessity
of recognising every object in itself in its own nature, as a thing
identical with itself, consequently self-existing and at bottom
remaining ever the same and unchangeable: in short, in recognising
everything as a substance." Even this law, which is here called
"primordial," has evolved: it will some day be shown how gradually this
tendency arises in the lower organisms, how the feeble mole-eyes of
their organisations at first see only the same thing,--;how then, when
the various awakenings of pleasure and displeasure become noticeable,
various substances are gradually distinguished, but each with one
attribute, _i.e._ one single relation to such an organism. The first
step in logic is the judgment,--the nature of which, according to the
decision of the best logicians, consists in belief. At the bottom of
all belief lies _the sensation of the pleasant or the painful_ in
relation to the _sentient subject._ A new third sensation as the result
of two previous single sensations is the judgment in its simplest
form. We organic beings have originally no interest in anything but
its relation to _us_ in connection with pleasure and pain. Between
the moments (the states of feeling) when we become conscious of
this connection, lie moments of rest, of non-feeling; the world and
everything is then without interest for us, we notice no change in it
(as even now a deeply interested person does not notice when any one
passes him). To the plant, things are as a rule tranquil and eternal,
everything like itself. From the period of the lower organisms man
has inherited the belief that _similar things_ exist (this theory
is only contradicted by the matured experience of the most advanced
science). The primordial belief of everything organic from the
beginning is perhaps even this, that all the rest of the world is one
and immovable. The point furthest removed from those early beginnings
of logic is the idea of _Causality,_--indeed we still really think
that all sensations and activities are acts of the free will; when the
sentient individual contemplates himself, he regards every sensation,
every alteration as something _isolated,_ that is to say, unconditioned
and disconnected,--it rises up in us without connection with anything
foregoing or following. We are hungry, but do not originally think that
the organism must be nourished; the feeling seems to make itself felt
_without cause and purpose,_ it isolates itself and regards itself as
arbitrary. Therefore, belief in the freedom of the will is an original
error of everything organic, as old as the existence of the awakenings
of logic in it; the belief in unconditioned substances and similar
things is equally a primordial as well as an old error of everything
organic. But inasmuch as all metaphysics has concerned itself chiefly
with substance and the freedom of will, it may be designated as the
science which treats of the fundamental errors of mankind, but treats
of them as if they were fundamental truths.
19.
NUMBER.--The discovery of the laws of numbers is made upon the ground
of the original, already prevailing error, that there are many similar
things (but in reality there is nothing similar), at least, that there
are things (but there is no "thing"). The supposition of plurality
always presumes that there is something which appears frequently,--but
here already error reigns, already we imagine beings, unities,
which do not exist. Our sensations of space and time are false, for
they lead--examined in sequence--to logical contradictions. In all
scientific determinations we always reckon inevitably with certain
false quantities, but as these quantities are at least constant, as,
for instance, our sensation of time and space, the conclusions of
science have still perfect accuracy and certainty in their connection
with one another; one may continue to build upon them--until that final
limit where the erroneous original suppositions, those constant faults,
come into conflict with the conclusions, for instance in the doctrine
of atoms. There still we always feel ourselves compelled to the
acceptance of a "thing" or material "sub-stratum" that is moved, whilst
the whole scientific procedure has pursued the very task of resolving
everything substantial (material) into motion; here, too, we still
separate with our sensation the mover and the moved and cannot get
out of this circle, because the belief in things has from immemorial
times been bound up with our being. When Kant says, "The understanding
does not derive its laws from Nature, but dictates them to her," it is
perfectly true with regard to the idea of Nature which we are compelled
to associate with her (Nature = World as representation, that is to
say as error), but which is the summing up of a number of errors of
the understanding. The laws of numbers are entirely inapplicable to a
world which is not our representation--these laws obtain only in the
human world.
20.
A FEW STEPS BACK.--A degree of culture, and assuredly a very high one,
is attained when man rises above superstitious and religious notions
and fears, and, for instance, no longer believes in guardian angels or
in original sin, and has also ceased to talk of the salvation of his
soul,--if he has attained to this degree of freedom, he has still also
to overcome metaphysics with the greatest exertion of his intelligence.
Then, however, a _retrogressive movement_ is necessary; he must
understand the historical justification as well as the psychological in
such representations, he must recognise how the greatest advancement
of humanity has come therefrom, and how, without such a retrocursive
movement, we should have been robbed of the best products of hitherto
existing mankind. With regard to philosophical metaphysics, I always
see increasing numbers who have attained to the negative goal (that
all positive metaphysics is error), but as yet few who climb a few
rungs backwards; one ought to look out, perhaps, over the last steps of
the ladder, but not try to stand upon them. The most enlightened only
succeed so far as to free themselves from metaphysics and look back
upon it with superiority, while it is necessary here, too, as in the
hippodrome, to turn round the end of the course.
21.
CONJECTURAL VICTORY OF SCEPTICISM.--For once let the sceptical
starting-point be accepted,--granted that there were no other
metaphysical world, and all explanations drawn from metaphysics about
the only world we know were useless to us, in what light should we
then look upon men and things? We can think this out for ourselves, it
is useful, even though the question whether anything metaphysical has
been scientifically proved by Kant and Schopenhauer were altogether set
aside. For it is quite possible, according to historical probability,
that some time or other man, as a general rule, may grow _sceptical;_
the question will then be this: What form will human society take under
the influence of such a mode of thought? Perhaps the _scientific proof_
of some metaphysical world or other is already so _difficult_ that
mankind will never get rid of a certain distrust of it. And when there
is distrust of metaphysics, there are on the whole the same results as
if it had been directly refuted and _could_ no longer be believed in.
The historical question with regard to an unmetaphysical frame of mind
in mankind remains the same in both cases.
22.
UNBELIEF IN THE "_MONUMENTUM ÆRE PERENNIUS._"--An actual drawback
which accompanies the cessation of metaphysical views lies in the fact
that the individual looks upon his short span of life too exclusively
and receives no stronger incentives to build durable institutions
intended to last for centuries,--he himself wishes to pluck the fruit
from the tree which he plants, and therefore he no longer plants those
trees which require regular care for centuries, and which are destined
to afford shade to a long series of generations. For metaphysical
views furnish the belief that in them the last conclusive foundation
has been given, upon which henceforth all the future of mankind is
compelled to settle down and establish itself; the individual furthers
his salvation, when, for instance, he founds a church or convent, he
thinks it will be reckoned to him and recompensed to him in the eternal
life of the soul, it is work for the soul's eternal salvation. Can
science also arouse such faith in its results? As a matter of fact, it
needs doubt and distrust as its most faithful auxiliaries; nevertheless
in the course of time, the sum of inviolable truths--those, namely,
which have weathered all the storms of scepticism, and all destructive
analysis--may have become so great (in the regimen of health, for
instance), that one may determine to found thereupon "eternal" works.
For the present the _contrast_ between our excited ephemeral existence
and the long-winded repose of metaphysical ages still operates too
strongly, because the two ages still stand too closely together;
the individual man himself now goes through too many inward and
outward developments for him to venture to arrange his own lifetime
permanently, and once and for all. An entirely modern man, for
instance, who is going to build himself a house, has a feeling as if
he were going to immure himself alive in a mausoleum.
23.
THE AGE OF COMPARISON.--The less men are fettered by tradition, the
greater becomes the inward activity of their motives; the greater,
again, in proportion thereto, the outward restlessness, the confused
flux of mankind, the polyphony of strivings. For whom is there still an
absolute compulsion to bind himself and his descendants to one place?
For whom is there still anything strictly compulsory? As all styles of
arts are imitated simultaneously, so also are all grades and kinds of
morality, of customs, of cultures. Such an age obtains its importance
because in it the various views of the world, customs, and cultures can
be compared and experienced simultaneously,--which was formerly not
possible with the always localised sway of every culture, corresponding
to the rooting of all artistic styles in place and time. An increased
æsthetic feeling will now at last decide amongst so many forms
presenting themselves for comparison; it will allow the greater number,
that is to say all those rejected by it, to die out. In the same way
a selection amongst the forms and customs of the higher moralities is
taking place, of which the aim can be nothing else than the downfall of
the lower moralities. It is the age of comparison! That is its pride,
but more justly also its grief. Let us not be afraid of this grief!
Rather will we comprehend as adequately as possible the task our age
sets us: posterity will bless us for doing so,--a posterity which knows
itself to be as much above the terminated original national cultures as
above the culture of comparison, but which looks back with gratitude on
both kinds of culture as upon antiquities worthy of veneration.
24.
THE POSSIBILITY OF PROGRESS.--When a scholar of the ancient culture
forswears the company of men who believe in progress, he does quite
right. For the greatness and goodness of ancient culture lie behind
it, and historical education compels one to admit that they can never
be fresh again; an unbearable stupidity or an equally insufferable
fanaticism would be necessary to deny this. But men can _consciously_
resolve to develop themselves towards a new culture; whilst formerly
they only developed unconsciously and by chance, they can now create
better conditions for the rise of human beings, for their nourishment,
education and instruction; they can administer the earth economically
as a whole, and can generally weigh and restrain the powers of man.
This new, conscious culture kills the old, which, regarded as a whole,
has led an unconscious animal and plant life; it also kills distrust
in progress,--progress is _possible._ I must say that it is over-hasty
and almost nonsensical to believe that progress must _necessarily_
follow; but how could one deny that it is possible? On the other hand,
progress in the sense and on the path of the old culture is not even
thinkable. Even if romantic fantasy has also constantly used the word
"progress" to denote its aims (for instance, circumscribed primitive
national cultures), it borrows the picture of it in any case from the
past; its thoughts and ideas on this subject are entirely without
originality.
25.
PRIVATE AND ŒCUMENICAL MORALITY.--Since the belief has ceased that
a God directs in general the fate of the world and, in spite of all
apparent crookedness in the path of humanity, leads it on gloriously,
men themselves must set themselves œcumenical aims embracing the
whole earth. The older morality, especially that of Kant, required
from the individual actions which were desired from all men,--that was
a delightfully naïve thing, as if each one knew off-hand what course
of action was beneficial to the whole of humanity, and consequently
which actions in general were desirable; it is a theory like that
of free trade, taking for granted that the general harmony _must_
result of itself according to innate laws of amelioration. Perhaps a
future contemplation of the needs of humanity will show that it is
by no means desirable that all men should act alike; in the interest
of œcumenical aims it might rather be that for whole sections of
mankind, special, and perhaps under certain circumstances even evil,
tasks would have to be set. In any case, if mankind is not to destroy
itself by such a conscious universal rule, there must previously be
found, as a scientific standard for œcumenical aims, a _knowledge of
the conditions of culture_ superior to what has hitherto been attained.
Herein lies the enormous task of the great minds of the next century.
26.
REACTION AS PROGRESS.--Now and again there appear rugged, powerful,
impetuous, but nevertheless backward-lagging minds which conjure up
once more a past phase of mankind; they serve to prove that the new
tendencies against which they are working are not yet sufficiently
strong, that they still lack something, otherwise they would show
better opposition to those exorcisers. Thus, for example, Luther's
Reformation bears witness to the fact that in his century all the
movements of the freedom of the spirit were still uncertain, tender,
and youthful; science could not yet lift up its head. Indeed the whole
Renaissance seems like an early spring which is almost snowed under
again. But in this century also, Schopenhauer's Metaphysics showed
that even now the scientific spirit is not yet strong enough; thus the
whole mediæval Christian view of the world and human feeling could
celebrate its resurrection in Schopenhauer's doctrine, in spite of
the long achieved destruction of all Christian dogmas. There is much
science in his doctrine, but it does not dominate it: it is rather
the old well-known "metaphysical requirement" that does so. It is
certainly one of the greatest and quite invaluable advantages which
we gain from Schopenhauer, that he occasionally forces our sensations
back into older, mightier modes of contemplating the world and man, to
which no other path would so easily lead us. The gain to history and
justice is very great,--I do not think that any one would so easily
succeed now in doing justice to Christianity and its Asiatic relations
without Schopenhauer's assistance, which is specially impossible
from the basis of still existing Christianity. Only after this great
_success of justice,_ only after we have corrected so essential a point
as the historical mode of contemplation which the age of enlightenment
brought with it, may we again bear onward the banner of enlightenment,
the banner with the three names, Petrarch, Erasmus, Voltaire. We have
turned reaction into progress.
27.
A SUBSTITUTE FOR RELIGION.--It is believed that something good
is said of philosophy when it is put forward as a substitute for
religion for the people. As a matter of fact, in the spiritual economy
there is need, at times, of an _intermediary_ order of thought: the
transition from religion to scientific contemplation is a violent,
dangerous leap, which is not to be recommended. To this extent the
recommendation is justifiable. But one should eventually learn that
the needs which have been satisfied by religion and are now to be
satisfied by philosophy are not unchangeable; these themselves can be
_weakened_ and _eradicated._ Think, for instance, of the Christian's
distress of soul, his sighing over inward corruption, his anxiety
for salvation,--all notions which originate only in errors of reason
and deserve not satisfaction but destruction. A philosophy can serve
either to _satisfy_ those needs or to _set them aside_; for they are
acquired, temporally limited needs, which are based upon suppositions
contradictory to those of science. Here, in order to make a transition,
_art_ is far rather to be employed to relieve the mind overburdened
with emotions; for those notions receive much less support from it than
from a metaphysical philosophy. It is easier, then, to pass over from
art to a really liberating philosophical science.
28.
ILL-FAMED WORDS.--Away with those wearisomely hackneyed terms
Optimism and Pessimism! For the occasion for using them becomes less
and less from day to day; only the chatterboxes still find them so
absolutely necessary. For why in all the world should any one wish to
be an optimist unless he had a God to defend who _must_ have created
the best of worlds if he himself be goodness and perfection,--what
thinker, however, still needs the hypothesis of a God? But every
occasion for a pessimistic confession of faith is also lacking when
one has no interest in being annoyed at the advocates of God (the
theologians, or the theologising philosophers), and in energetically
defending the opposite view, that evil reigns, that pain is greater
than pleasure, that the world is a bungled piece of work, the
manifestation of an ill-will to life. But who still bothers about the
theologians now--except the theologians? Apart from all theology and
its contentions, it is quite clear that the world is not good and not
bad (to say nothing of its being the best or the worst), and that the
terms "good" and "bad" have only significance with respect to man, and
indeed, perhaps, they are not justified even here in the way they are
usually employed; in any case we must get rid of both the calumniating
and the glorifying conception of the world.
29.
INTOXICATED BY THE SCENT OF THE BLOSSOMS.--It is supposed that the ship
of humanity has always a deeper draught, the heavier it is laden; it is
believed that the deeper a man thinks, the more delicately he feels,
the higher he values himself, the greater his distance from the other
animals,--the more he appears as a genius amongst the animals,--all
the nearer will he approach the real essence of the world and its
knowledge; this he actually does too, through science, but he _means_
to do so still more through his religions and arts. These certainly
are blossoms of the world, but by no means any _nearer to the root of
the world_ than the stalk; it is not possible to understand the nature
of things better through them, although almost every one believes he
can. _Error_ has made man so deep, sensitive, and inventive that he has
put forth such blossoms as religions and arts. Pure knowledge could
not have been capable of it. Whoever were to unveil for us the essence
of the world would give us all the most disagreeable disillusionment.
Not the world as thing-in-itself, but the world as representation (as
error) is so full of meaning, so deep, so wonderful, bearing happiness
and unhappiness in its bosom. This result leads to a philosophy of the
logical denial of the world, which, however, can be combined with a
practical world-affirming just as well as with its opposite.
30.