Chapter XXIV. On Matter.

Matter has already been spoken of in the fourth chapter of the supplements

to the first book, when we were considering the part of our knowledge of

which we are conscious _a priori_. But it could only be considered there

from a one‐sided point of view, because we were then concerned merely with

its relation to the forms of our intellect, and not to the thing in

itself, and therefore we investigated it only from the subjective side,

_i.e._, so far as it is an idea, and not from the objective side, _i.e._,

with regard to what it may be in itself. In the first respect, our

conclusion was that it is objective _activity_ in general, yet conceived

without fuller determination; therefore it takes the place of causality in

the table of our _a priori_ knowledge which is given there. For what is

material is that which _acts_ (the actual) in general, and regarded apart

from the specific nature of its action. Hence also matter, merely as such,

is not an object of _perception_, but only of _thought_, and thus is

really an abstraction. It only comes into perception in connection with

form and quality, as a body, _i.e._, as a fully determined kind of

activity. It is only by abstracting from this fuller determination that we

think of matter as such, _i.e._, separated from form and quality;

consequently under matter we think of _acting_ absolutely and in general,

thus of _activity_ in the abstract. The more fully determined acting we

then conceive as the _accident_ of matter; but only by means of this does

matter become perceptible, _i.e._, present itself as a body and an object

of experience. Pure matter, on the other hand, which, as I have shown in

the Criticism of the Kantian Philosophy, alone constitutes the true and

admissible content of the conception of _substance_, is causality itself,

thought objectively, consequently as in space, and therefore filling it.

Accordingly the whole being of matter consists in _acting_. Only thus does

it occupy space and last in time. It is through and through pure

causality. Therefore wherever there is action there is matter, and the

material is the active in general. But causality itself is the form of our

understanding; for it is known to us _a priori_, as well as time and

space. Thus matter also, _so far_ and up to this point, belongs to the

formal part of our knowledge, and is consequently that form of the

understanding, _causality_ itself, bound up with space and time, hence

objectified, _i.e._, conceived as that which fills space. (The fuller

explanation of this doctrine will be found in the second edition of the

essay on the principle of sufficient reason, p. 77; third edition, p. 82.)

So far, however, matter is properly not the _object_ but the _condition_

of experience; like the pure understanding itself, whose function it so

far is. Therefore of pure matter there is also only a _conception_, no

_perception_. It enters into all external experience as a necessary

constituent part of it; yet it cannot be given in any experience, but is

only _thought_, and thought indeed as that which is absolutely inert,

inactive, formless, and without qualities, and which is yet the supporter

of all forms, qualities, and effects. Accordingly, of all fleeting

phenomena, thus of all manifestations of natural forces and all living

beings, matter is the _permanent substratum_ which is necessarily produced

by the forms of our intellect in which the world as _idea_ exhibits

itself. As such, and as having sprung from the forms of the intellect, it

is entirely _indifferent_ to those phenomena themselves, _i.e._, it is

just as ready to be the supporter of this force of nature as of that,

whenever, under the guidance of causality, the necessary conditions

appear; while it itself, just because its existence is really only

_formal_, _i.e._, is founded in the _intellect_ must be thought as that

which under all that change is absolutely permanent, thus with regard to

time is without beginning and without end. This is why we cannot give up

the thought that anything may be made out of anything, for example, gold

out of lead; for this would only require that we should find out and bring

about the intermediate states which matter, in itself indifferent, would

have to pass through upon that path. For _a priori_ we can never see why

the same matter which is now the supporter of the quality lead could not

some time become the supporter of the quality gold. Matter, as that which

is only _thought_ _a priori_, is distinguished from the _a priori_

_intuitions_ or _perceptions_ proper by the fact that we can also think it

entirely away; space and time, on the contrary, never. But this only shows

that we can present to ourselves space and time in imagination without

matter. For the matter which has once been placed in them, and accordingly

thought as _existing_, we can never again absolutely think away, _i.e._,

imagine it as vanished and annihilated, but are always forced to think of

it merely as transferred to another space. So far, then, matter is as

inseparably connected with our faculty of knowledge as space and time

themselves. Yet even the difference that it must first be voluntarily

thought as existing indicates that it does not belong so entirely and in

every regard to the _formal_ part of our knowledge as space and time, but

also contains an element which is only given _a posteriori_. It is, in

fact, the point of connection of the empirical part of our knowledge with

the pure and _a priori_ part, consequently the peculiar foundation‐stone

of the world of experience.

Only where all _a priori_ assertions cease, therefore in the _entirely

empirical_ part of our knowledge of bodies, in their form, quality, and

definite manner of acting, does that _will_ reveal itself which we have

already recognised and established as the true inner nature of things. But

these forms and qualities always appear only as the properties and

manifestations of that very _matter_ the existence and nature of which

depends upon the subjective forms of our intellect, _i.e._, they only

become visible in it, and therefore by means of it. For that which always

exhibits itself to us is only _matter_ acting in some specially determined

manner. Out of the inner properties of such matter, properties which

cannot be further explained, proceeds every definite kind of effect of

given bodies; and yet the matter itself is never perceived, but only these

effects, and the definite properties which lie at their foundation, after

separating which, matter, as that which then remains over, is necessarily

added in thought by us; for, according to the exposition given above, it

is objectified _causality itself_. Accordingly matter is that whereby the

_will_, which constitutes the inner nature of things, becomes capable of

being apprehended, perceptible, _visible_. In this sense, then, matter is

simply the _visibility_ of the will, or the bond between the world as will

and the world as idea. It belongs to the latter inasmuch as it is the

product of the functions of the intellect, to the former inasmuch as that

which manifests itself in all material existences, _i.e._, phenomena is

the will. Therefore every object is, as thing in itself, will, and as

phenomenon, matter. If we could strip any given matter of all the

properties that come to it _a priori_, _i.e._, of all the forms of our

perception and apprehension, we would have left the thing in itself, that

which, by means of those forms, appears as the purely empirical in matter,

but which would then itself no longer appear as something extended and

active; _i.e._, we would no longer have matter before us, but the will.

This very thing in itself, or the will, in that it becomes a phenomenon,

_i.e._, enters the forms of our intellect, appears as matter, _i.e._, as

the invisible but necessarily assumed supporter of the properties which

are only visible through it. In this sense, then, matter is the visibility

of the _will_. Consequently Plotinus and Giordano Bruno were right, not

only in their sense but also in ours, when they made the paradoxical

assertion already referred to in chapter 4: Matter itself is not extended,

consequently it is incorporeal. For space, which is our form of

perception, imparts extension to matter, and corporeal existence consists

in acting, which depends upon causality, and consequently upon the form of

our understanding. On the other hand, every definite property, thus

everything empirical in matter, even gravity, depends upon that which only

becomes visible by means of matter, the thing in itself, the will. Gravity

is yet the lowest of all grades of the objectification of the will;

therefore it appears in all matter without exception, thus is inseparable

from matter in general. Yet, just because it is a manifestation of the

will, it belongs to knowledge _a posteriori_, not to knowledge _a priori_.

Therefore we can always picture to ourselves matter without weight, but

not without extension, repulsive force, and stability, for then it would

be without impenetrability, and consequently would not occupy space,

_i.e._, it would be without _the power of acting_; but the nature of

matter as such just consists in _acting_, _i.e._, in causality in general;

and causality depends upon the _a priori_ form of our understanding, and

therefore cannot be thought away.

Matter is accordingly the _will_ itself, but no longer in itself, but so

far as it is _perceived_, _i.e._, assumes the form of the objective idea.

Thus what objectively is matter is subjectively will. Exactly

corresponding to this, as was proved above, our body is just the

visibility, objectivity of our will, and so also every body is the

objectivity of the will at some one of its grades. Whenever the will

exhibits itself to objective knowledge it enters into the forms of

perception of the intellect, time, space, and causality. But on account of

this it exists at once as a _material_ object. We can present to our minds

form without matter, but not the reverse; because matter deprived of form

would be the will itself, and the will only becomes objective by entering

the forms of perception of our intellect, and therefore only by means of

the assumption of form. Space is the form of perception of matter because

the latter is the substance (Stoff) of mere form, but matter can _appear_

only in form.

Since the will becomes objective, _i.e._, passes over into the idea,

matter is the universal substratum of this objectification, or rather it

is this objectification itself taken abstractly, _i.e._, regarded apart

from all form. Matter is accordingly the _visibility_ of the will in

general, while the character of its definite manifestations has its

expression in form and quality. Hence what in the manifestation, _i.e._,

for the idea, is _matter_ is in itself _will_. Therefore, under the

conditions of experience and perception, everything holds good of it that

holds good of the will in itself, and it repeats all the relations and

properties of the will in temporal images. Accordingly it is the substance

of the world of perception, as the will is the inner nature of all things.

The forms are innumerable, the matter is one; just as the will is one in

all its objectifications. As the will never objectifies itself as general,

_i.e._, as absolute will, but always as particular, _i.e._, under special

determinations and a given character, so matter never appears as such, but

always in connection with some particular form and quality. In the

manifestation or objectification of the will matter represents its

totality, it itself, which in all is one, as matter is one in all bodies.

As the will is the inmost kernel of all phenomenal beings, so matter is

the substance which remains after all the accidents have been taken away.

As the will is that which is absolutely indestructible in all existence,

so matter is that which is imperishable in time and permanent through all

changes. That matter for itself, thus separated from form, cannot be

perceived or presented in imagination depends upon the fact that in

itself, and as the pure substantiality of bodies, it is really the _will_

itself. But the will cannot be apprehended objectively, or perceived in

itself, but only under all the conditions of the _idea_, and therefore

only as _phenomenon_. Under these conditions, however, it exhibits itself

at once as body, _i.e._, as matter clothed in form and quality. But form

is conditioned by space, and quality or power of acting by causality; thus

both depend upon the functions of the intellect. Matter without them would

just be the thing in itself, _i.e._, the will itself. Therefore, as has

been said, Plotinus and Giordano Bruno could only be brought by a

completely objective path to the assertion that matter in and for itself

is without extension, consequently without spatial properties,

consequently incorporeal.

Because, then, matter is the visibility of the will, and every force in

itself is will, no force can appear without a material substratum, and

conversely no body can be without forces dwelling in it which constitute

its quality. Therefore a body is the union of matter and form which is

called substance (Stoff). Force and substance are inseparable because at

bottom they are one; for, as Kant has shown, matter itself is given us

only as the union of two forces, the force of expansion and that of

attraction. Thus there is no opposition between force and substance,

rather they are precisely one.

Led by the course of our consideration to this standpoint, and having

attained to this metaphysical view of matter, we will confess without

reluctance that the temporal _origin_ of forms, shapes, or species cannot

reasonably be sought elsewhere than in matter. Some time or other they

must have come forth from it, just because it is the mere _visibility of

the will_ which constitutes the inner nature of all phenomena. In that the

will manifests itself, _i.e._, presents itself _objectively_ to the

intellect, matter, as its visibility, assumes _form_ by means of the

functions of the intellect. Hence the Schoolmen said: “_Materia appetit

formam_.” That such was the origin of all forms of life cannot be doubted:

we cannot even conceive it otherwise. Whether, however, now, since the

paths to the perpetuation of the forms stand open, and are secured and

sustained by nature with boundless care and jealousy, _generatio œquivoca_

still takes place, can only be decided by experience; especially since the

saying, _Natura nihil facit frustra_, might, with reference to the paths

of regular propagation, be used as a valid argument against it. Yet in

spite of the most recent objections to it, I hold that at very low grades

_generatio œquivoca_ is very probable, and primarily indeed in the case of

entozoa and epizoa, particularly such as appear in consequence of special

cachexia of the animal organism. For the conditions of their life only

appear exceptionally; consequently their species cannot propagate itself

in the regular manner, and therefore has always to arise anew whenever

opportunity offers. Therefore as soon as the conditions of life of epizoa

have appeared in consequence of certain chronic diseases, or cachexia, and

in accordance with them, _pediculus capitis_ or _pubis_ or _corporis_

appears entirely of itself, and without any egg; and this notwithstanding

the complex structure of these insects, for the putrefaction of a living

animal body affords material for higher productions than that of hay in

water, which only produces infusoria. Or is it thought more likely that

the eggs of the epizoa are constantly floating about in the air in

expectation? (Fearful to think of!) Let us rather remember the disease of

phthiriasis, which occurs even now. An analogous case takes place when

through special circumstances the conditions of life appear of a species

which up till then was foreign to that _place_. Thus August St. Hilaire

saw in Brazil, after the burning of a primitive forest, as soon as ever

the ashes had cooled, a number of plants grow up out of them, the species

of which was not to be found far and wide; and quite recently Admiral

Petit‐Thouars informed the _Académie des sciences_ that upon the growing

coral islands in Polynesia a soil gradually deposits itself which is now

dry, now lies in water, and which vegetation soon takes possession of,

bringing forth trees which are absolutely peculiar to these islands

(_Comptes rendus_, 17th Jan. 1859, p. 147). Whenever putrefaction takes

place mould, fungi, and in liquids infusoria appear. The assumption now in

favour that spores and eggs of the innumerable species of all those kinds

of animal life are everywhere floating in the air, and wait through long

years for a favourable opportunity, is more paradoxical than that of

_generatio œquivoca_. Putrefaction is the decomposition of an organised

body, first into its _more immediate_ chemical constituents. Since now

these are more or less the same in all living beings, the omnipresent will

to live can possess itself of them, in order, in accordance with the

circumstances, to produce new existences from them; and these forming

themselves according to design, _i.e._, objectifying the volition of the

will at the time, solidify out of the chemical elements as the chicken out

of the fluidity of the egg. When, however, this does not take place, the

putrefying matter is resolved into its _ultimate_ constituent parts, which

are the chemical elements, and now passes over again into the great course

of nature. The war which has been waged for the last ten or fifteen years

against _generatio œquivoca_, with its premature shouts of victory, was

the prelude to the denial of the vital force, and related to it. Let no

one, however, be deceived by dogmatic assertions and brazen assurances

that the questions are decided, settled, and generally recognised. On the

contrary, the whole mechanical and atomistic view of nature is approaching

its bankruptcy, and its defenders have to learn that something more is

concealed behind nature than action and reaction. The reality of

_generatio œquivoca_ and the folly of the extraordinary assumption that in

the atmosphere, everywhere and always, billions of seeds of all possible

kinds of fungi, and eggs of all possible kinds of infusoria, are floating

about, till now one and then another by chance finds its suitable medium,

has quite recently (1859) been thoroughly and victoriously shown by

Pouchet before the French Academy, to the great vexation of the other

members.

Our wonder at the origin of forms in matter is at bottom like that of the

savage who looks for the first time in a mirror and marvels at his own

image which he sees there. For our own inner nature is the will, whose

mere _visibility_ is matter. Yet matter never appears otherwise than with

the _visible_, _i.e._, under the outer shell of form and quality, and

therefore is never directly apprehended, but always merely added in

thought as that which is identical in all things, under all differences of

quality and form. On this account it is more a metaphysical than a

physical principle of explanation of things, and to make all existences

arise from it is really to explain them from something which is very

mysterious; which all know it to be except those who confound attacking

with comprehending. In truth, the ultimate and exhaustive explanation of

things is by no means to be sought in matter, although certainly the

temporal origin both of unorganised forms and of organised beings is to be

sought in it. Yet it seems that the origination of organised forms, the

production of the species themselves, is almost as difficult for nature to

accomplish as it is for us to comprehend. This is indicated by the

entirely extravagant provision which nature always makes for maintaining

the species which once exist. Yet on the present surface of this planet

the will to live has gone through the scale of its objectification three

times, quite independently of each other, in a different modulation, and

also with great difference of perfection and fulness. The old world,

America, and Australia have, it is well known, each their peculiar

independent fauna, entirely different from that of the other two. Upon

each of these great continents the species are throughout different, but

yet, because all three belong to the same planet, they have a thorough

analogy with each other running parallel through them; therefore the

_genera_ are for the most part the same. In Australia this analogy can

only be very imperfectly followed because its fauna is very poor in

mammalia, and contains neither beasts of prey nor apes. On the other hand,

between the old world and America it is obvious, and in the following

manner. In mammals America always produces the inferior analogue, but in

birds and reptiles the better. Thus it has the advantage in the condor,

the macaw, the humming‐bird, and the largest batrachia and ophidia; but,

for example, instead of the elephant it has only the tapir, instead of the

lion the puma, instead of the tiger the jaguar, instead of the camel the

lama, and instead of apes proper only monkeys. Even from this last defect

it may be concluded that in America nature was not able to rise to man;

for even from the nearest grade below man, the chimpanzee and the orang‐

outang or pongo, the step to man was still an excessively great one.

Correspondingly we find that the three races of men which, both upon

physiological and linguistic grounds, are undoubtedly equally original,

the Caucasian, the Mongolian, and the Ethiopian, are only at home in the

old world; while America, on the other hand, is peopled by a mixed or

climatically modified Mongolian race, which must have come over from Asia.

On the surface of the earth which immediately preceded the present surface

apes were reached here and there, but not men.

From this standpoint of our consideration, which shows us matter as the

direct visibility of the will which manifests itself in all things, nay,

indeed, for the merely physical investigation which follows the guidance

of time and causality, lets it pass as the origin of things, we are easily

led to the question whether even in philosophy we could not just as well

start from the objective as from the subjective side, and accordingly set

up as the fundamental truth the proposition: “There is in general nothing

but matter and its indwelling forces.” But, with regard to these

“indwelling forces” here so easily used, we must remember that their

assumption leads every explanation back to a completely incomprehensible

miracle, and then leaves it beside it, or rather leaves it to begin from

it. For every definite, inexplicable force of nature which lies at the

foundation of the most different kinds of effects of an unorganised body,

not less than the vital force which manifests itself in every organised

body, is such an incomprehensible miracle, as I have fully explained in

chap. 17, and have also shown that physics can never be set upon the

throne of metaphysics, just because it leaves quite untouched the

assumption referred to and also many others; whereby from the beginning it

renounces all claim to give an ultimate explanation of things. I must

further remind the reader here of the proof of the insufficiency of

materialism, which is given towards the end of the first chapter, because,

as was said there, it is the philosophy of the subject which forgets

itself in its calculation. But all these truths rest upon the fact that

everything _objective_, everything external, since it is always only

something apprehended, something known, remains also always indirect and

secondary, therefore absolutely never can become the ultimate ground of

explanation of things or the starting‐point of philosophy. Philosophy

necessarily requires what is absolutely immediate for its starting‐point.

But clearly only that which is given in _self‐consciousness_ fulfils this

condition, that which is within, the _subjective_. And hence it is so

eminent a merit of Descartes that he first made philosophy start from

self‐consciousness. Since then, upon this path, the genuine philosophers,

especially Locke, Berkeley, and Kant, have gone even further, each in his

own manner, and in consequence of their investigations I was led to

recognise and make use, not of one, but of two completely different data

of immediate knowledge in self‐consciousness, the idea and the will, by

the combined application of which one can go further in philosophy, in the

same proportion as in the case of an algebraical problem one can

accomplish more if two known quantities are given than if only one is

given.

In accordance with what has been said, the ineradicable falseness of

materialism primarily consists in the fact that it starts from a _petitio

principii_, which when more closely considered turns out indeed to be a

πρωτον φευδος. It starts from the assumption that matter is something

absolutely and unconditionally given, something existing independently of

the knowledge of the subject, thus really a thing in itself. It attributes

to matter (and consequently also to its presuppositions time and space) an

_absolute_ existence, _i.e._, an existence independent of the perceiving

subject; this is its fundamental error. Then, if it will go honestly to

work, it must leave the qualities inherent in the given materials, _i.e._,

in the substances, together with the natural forces which manifest

themselves in these, and finally also the vital force, unexplained, as

unfathomable _qualitates occultæ_, and start from them; as physics and

physiology actually do, because they make no claim to be the ultimate

explanation of things. But just to avoid this, materialism—at least as it

has hitherto appeared—has not proceeded honestly. It denies all those

original forces, for it pretends and seems to reduce them all, and

ultimately also the vital force, to the mere mechanical activity of

matter, thus to manifestations of impenetrability, form, cohesion,

impulsive power, inertia, gravity, &c., qualities which certainly have

least that is inexplicable in themselves, just because they partly depend

upon what is known _a priori_, consequently on the forms of our own

intellect, which are the principle of all comprehensibility. But the

intellect as the condition of all objects, and consequently of the whole

phenomenal world, is entirely ignored by materialism. Its plan is now to

refer everything qualitative to something merely quantitative, for it

attributes the former to mere _form_ in opposition to _matter_ proper. To

matter it leaves, of the properly _empirical_ qualities, only gravity,

because it already appears as something quantitative, the only measure of

the quantity of the matter. This path necessarily leads it to the fiction

of atoms, which now become the material out of which it thinks to

construct the mysterious manifestations of all original forces. But here

it has really no longer to do with empirically _given_ matter, but with a

matter which is not to be found _in rerum natura_, but is rather a mere

abstraction of that real matter, a matter which would absolutely have no

other than those mechanical qualities which, with the exception of

gravity, can be pretty well construed _a priori_, just because they depend

upon the forms of space, time, and causality, and consequently upon our

intellect; to this poor material, then, it finds itself reduced for the

construction of its castle in the air.

In this way it inevitably becomes _atomism_; as happened to it already in

its childhood in the hands of Leucippus and Democritus, and happens to it

again now that it has come to a second childhood through age; with the

French because they have never known the Kantian philosophy, and with the

Germans because they have forgotten it. And indeed it carries it further

in this its second childhood than in its first. Not merely _solid_ bodies

are supposed to consist of atoms, but liquids, water, air, gas, nay, even

light, which is supposed to be the undulations of a completely

hypothetical and altogether unproved ether, consisting of atoms, the

difference of the rapidity of these undulations causing colours. This is

an hypothesis which, like the earlier Newtonian seven‐colour theory,

starts from an analogy with music, entirely arbitrarily assumed, and then

violently carried out. One must really be credulous to an unheard‐of

degree to let oneself be persuaded that the innumerable different ether

vibrations proceeding from the infinite multiplicity of coloured surfaces

in this varied world could constantly, and each in its own time, run

through and everywhere cross each other without ever disturbing each

other, but should rather produce through such tumult and confusion the

profoundly peaceful aspect of illumined nature and art. _Credat Judæus

Apella!_ Certainly the nature of light is to us a secret; but it is better

to confess this than to bar the way of future knowledge by bad theories.

That light is something quite different from a mere mechanical movement,

undulation, or vibration and tremor, indeed that it is material, is shown

by its chemical effects, a beautiful series of which was recently laid

before the _Académie des sciences_ by Chevreul, who let sunlight act upon

different coloured materials. The most beautiful thing in these

experiments is, that a white roll of paper which has been exposed to the

sunlight exhibits the same effects, nay, does so even after six months, if

during this time it has been secured in a firmly closed metal tube. Has,

then, the tremulation paused for six months, and does it now fall into

time again? (_Comptes rendus_ of 20th December 1858.) This whole

hypothesis of vibrating ether atoms is not only a chimera, but equals in

awkward crudeness the worst of Democritus, and yet is shameless enough, at

the present day, to profess to be an established fact, and has thus

brought it about that it is orthodoxly repeated by a thousand stupid

scribblers of all kinds, who are devoid of all knowledge of such things,

and is believed in as a gospel. But the doctrine of atoms in general goes

still further: it is soon a case of _Spartam, quam nactus es, orna_!

Different perpetual motions are then ascribed to all the atoms, revolving,

vibrating, &c., according to the office of each; in the same way every

atom has its atmosphere of ether, or something else, and whatever other

similar fancies there may be. The fancies of Schelling’s philosophy of

nature and its disciples were for the most part ingenious, lofty, or at

least witty; but these, on the contrary, are clumsy, insipid, paltry, and

awkward, the production of minds which, in the first place, are unable to

think any other reality than a fabulous, qualityless matter, which is also

an absolute object, _i.e._, an object without a subject; and secondly can

think of no other activity than motion and impact: these two alone are

comprehensible to them, and that everything runs back to these is their _a

priori_ assumption; for these are their _thing in itself_. To attain this

end the vital force is reduced to chemical forces (which are insidiously

and unjustifiably called molecular forces), and all processes of

unorganised nature to mechanism, _i.e._, to action and reaction. And thus

at last the whole world and everything in it becomes merely a piece of

mechanical ingenuity, like the toys worked by levers, wheels, and sand,

which represent a mine or the work on a farm. The source of the evil is,

that through the amount of hand‐work which experimenting requires the

head‐work of thinking has been allowed to get out of practice. The

crucible and the voltaic pile are supposed to assume its functions; hence

also the profound abhorrence of all philosophy.

But the matter might be put in this way. One might say that materialism,

as it has hitherto appeared, has only failed because it did not adequately

_know_ the matter out of which it thought to construct the world, and

therefore was dealing, not with matter itself, but with a propertyless

substitute for it. If, on the contrary, instead of this, it had taken the

actual and _empirically_ given matter (_i.e._, material substance, or

rather substances), endowed as it is with all physical, chemical,

electrical properties, and also with the power of spontaneously producing

life out of itself, thus the true _mater rerum_, from the obscurity of

whose womb all phenomena and forms come forth, to fall back into it some

time again; from this, _i.e._, from matter fully comprehended and

exhaustively known, a world might have been constructed of which

materialism would not need to be ashamed. Quite true: only the trick would

then consist in this, that the _Quæsita_ had been placed in the _Data_,

for professedly what was taken as given, and made the starting‐point of

the deduction, was mere matter, but really it included all the mysterious

forces of nature which cling to it, or more correctly, by means of it

become visible to us, much the same as if under the name of the dish we

understand what lies upon it. For in fact, for our knowledge, matter is

really merely the _vehicle_ of the qualities and natural forces, which

appear as its accidents, and just because I have traced these back to the

will I call matter the mere _visibility of the will_. Stripped of all

these qualities, matter remains behind as that which is without qualities,

the _caput mortuum_ of nature, out of which nothing can honestly be made.

If, on the contrary, in the manner referred to, one leaves it all these

properties, one is guilty of a concealed _petitio principii_, for one has

assumed the _Quæsita_ beforehand as _Data_. But what is accomplished with

_this_ will no longer be a proper _materialism_, but merely _naturalism_,

_i.e._, an absolute system of _physics_, which, as was shown in chap. 17

already referred to, can never assume and fill the place of metaphysics,

just because it only begins after so many assumptions, thus never

undertakes to explain things from the foundation. Mere naturalism is

therefore essentially based simply upon _qualitates occultæ_, which one

can never get beyond except, as I have done, by calling in the aid of the

_subjective_ source of knowledge, which then certainly leads to the long

and toilsome round‐about path of metaphysics, for it presupposes the

complete analysis of self‐consciousness and of the intellect and will

given in it. However, the starting from what is _objective_, at the

foundation of which lies _external perception_, so distinct and

comprehensible, is a path so natural and which presents itself of its own

accord to man, that _naturalism_, and consequently, because this cannot

satisfy as it is not exhaustive, _materialism_, are systems to which the

speculative reason must necessarily have come, nay, must have come first

of all. Therefore at the very beginning of the history of philosophy we

meet naturalism, in the systems of the Ionic philosophers, and then

materialism in the teaching of Leucippus and Democritus, and also later we

see them ever appear anew from time to time.

The World as Will and Idea (Vol. 3 of 3) · 第 12 / 38 章