materialism is the foundation of the building of human knowledge but it
is not the building itself. For we live not only in nature but in human
society, and this has its theory of development and its science no less
than nature. It was necessary, therefore, to bring the science of
society, that is the so-called historical and philosophical sciences,
into harmony with the materialistic foundations and to rebuild upon
them. But this was not granted to Feuerbach. Here he stuck, in spite of
the "foundations," held in the confining bonds of idealism, and to this
he testified in the words "Backwards I am with the materialists, but not
forwards." But Feuerbach himself did not go forward in his views of
human society from his standpoint of 1840 and 1844, chiefly owing to
that loneliness which compelled him to think everything out by himself,
instead of in friendly and hostile conflict with other men of his
calibre, although of all philosophers he was the fondest of intercourse
with his fellows. We shall see later on how he thus remained an
idealist. Here we can only call attention to the fact that Starcke
sought the idealism of Feuerbach in the wrong place. "Feuerbach is an
idealist; he believes in the advance of mankind" (p. 19). "The
foundations, the underpinning of the whole, is therefore nothing less
than idealism. Realism is for us nothing more than a protection against
error while we follow our own idealistic tendencies. Are not compassion,
love and enthusiasm for truth and justice ideal forces?"
In the first place, idealism is here defined as nothing but the
following of ideal aims. But these have necessarily to do principally
with the idealism of Kant and his "Categorical Imperative." But Kant
himself called his philosophy "transcendental idealism," by no means
because he deals therein with moral ideals, but on quite other grounds,
as Starcke will remember.
The superstition that philosophical idealism pivots around a belief in
moral, that is in social ideals, arose with the German non-philosophical
Philistine, who commits to memory the few philosophical morsels which he
finds in Schiller's poems. Nobody has criticised more severely the
feeble Categorical Imperative of Kant--feeble because it demands the
impossible and therefore never attains to any reality--nobody has
ridiculed more cruelly the Philistine sentimentality imparted by
Schiller, because of its unrealizable ideals, than just the idealist par
excellence, Hegel. (See e. g. Phenomenology.)
In the second place, it cannot be avoided that all human sensations pass
through the brain--even eating and drinking which are commenced
consequent upon hunger and thirst felt by the brain and ended in
consequence of sensations of satisfaction similarly experienced by the
brain. The realities of the outer world impress themselves upon the
brain of man, reflect themselves there, as feelings, thoughts, impulses,
volitions, in short, as ideal tendencies, and in this form become ideal
forces. If the circumstance that this man follows ideal tendencies at
all, and admits that ideal forces exercise an influence over him, if
this makes an idealist of him, every normally developed man is in some
sense a born idealist, and under such circumstances how can materialists
exist?
In the third place, the conviction that humanity, at least at present,
as a whole, progresses, has absolutely nothing to do with the antagonism
between materialism and idealism. The French materialists had this
conviction, to a fanatical degree, no less than the deists, Voltaire and
Rousseau, and made the greatest personal sacrifices for it. If anybody
ever concentrated his whole life to the enthusiasm for truth and
justice, taking the words in a moral sense, it was Diderot, for example.
Therefore, since Starcke has explained all this as idealism, it simply
proves that the word materialism has lost all significance for him, as
has also the antagonism between the aims of the two.
The fact is that Starcke here makes an unpardonable concession to the
prejudices of the Philistines caused by the long continued slanders of
the clergy against the word materialism, even if without consciously
doing so. The Philistine understands by the word materialism, gluttony,
drunkenness, carnal lust, and fraudulent speculation, in short all the
enormous vices to which he himself is secretly addicted, and by the word
idealism he understands the belief in virtue, universal humanitarianism,
and a better world as a whole, of which he boasts before others, and in
which he himself at the very most believes, only as long as he must
endure the blues which follow necessarily from his customary
"materialistic" excesses, and so sings his favorite song--"What is
man?--Half beast, half angel."
As for the rest, Starcke takes great pains to defend Feuerbach against
the attacks and doctrines of those collegians who plume themselves in
Germany as philosophers now-a-days. It is true that this is a matter of
importance to those people who take an interest in the afterbirth of the
German classic philosophy, to Starcke himself this might appear
necessary. We spare the reader this, however.
FOOTNOTE:
[1] To this very day the idea is prevalent among savages and barbarians
that the human forms appearing in our dreams are souls which temporarily
leave the body, and that, therefore, the real man becomes liable for the
deeds done to the dreamer by his dream appearance. So Imthurm, for
example, found it in 1884 among the Indians in Guiana.
III.
The distinct idealism of Feuerbach is evident directly we come to his
philosophy of religion and ethics. He does not wish to abolish religion
by any means; he wants to perfect it. Philosophy itself will be absorbed
in religion. "The periods of human progress are only distinguishable by
religious changes. There is only a real historical progress where it
enters the hearts of men. The heart is not a place for religion, so that
it should be in the heart, it is the very being of religion." Religion
is, according to Feuerbach, a matter of the feelings--the feelings of
love between man and man which up to now sought its realization in the
fantastic reflected image of the reality--in the interposition through
one or more gods of the fantastic reflections of human qualities--but
now by means of love between "ego" and "tu" finds itself directly and
without any intermediary. According to Feuerbach love between the sexes
is, if not the highest form, at least one of the highest forms, of the
practice of his new religion.
Now, feelings of affection between man and man, and particularly
between members of the two sexes, have existed as long as mankind has.
Love between the sexes has been cultivated especially during the last
eighteen hundred years and has won a place which has made it, in this
period, a compulsory motive for all poetry. The existing positive
religions have limited themselves in this matter to the bestowal of
complete consecration upon the State regulation of sexual love, and
might completely disappear tomorrow without the least difference taking
place in the matter of love and friendship. Thus the Christian religion
in France was, as a matter of fact, so completely overthrown between the
years 1793 and 1798, that Napoleon himself could not re-introduce it
without opposition and difficulty, without, in the interval, any desire
for a substitute, in Feuerbach's sense, making itself felt.
Feuerbach's idealism consists in this, that he does not simply take for
granted the mutual and reciprocal feelings of men for one another such
as sexual love, friendship, compassion, self-sacrifice, etc., but
declares that they would come to their full realization for the first
time as soon as they were consecrated under the name of religion. The
main fact for him is not that these purely human relations exist, but
that they will be conceived of as the new true religion. They will be
fully realized for the first time if they are stamped as religions.
Religion is derived from "religare" and means originally "fastening."
Therefore, every bond between men is religion. Such etymological
artifices are the last resort of the idealistic philosophy. Not what the
word means according to the historical development of its true
significance, but what it should mean according to its derivation is
what counts, and so sex-love and the intercourse between the sexes is
consecrated as a "religion" only so that the word religion, which is
dear to the mind of the idealist, shall not vanish from the language.
The Parisian reformer of the stripe of Louis Blanc used to speak just in
the same way in the forties, for they could only conceive of a man
without religion as a monster, and used to say to us "Atheism, then, is
your religion."
If Feuerbach wants to place true religion upon the basis of real
materialistic philosophy, that would be just the same as conceiving of
modern chemistry as true alchemy. If religion can exist without its God
then alchemy can exist without its philosopher's stone. There exists, by
the way, a very close connection between alchemy and religion. The
philosopher's stone has many properties of the old gods, and the
Egyptian-Greek alchemists of the first two centuries of our era have had
their hands in the development of Christian doctrines, as Kopp and
Berthelot prove.
Feuerbach's declaration that the periods of man's development are only
differentiated through changes in religion is false. Great historical
points of departure are coincident with religious changes only as far as
the three world-religions which exist up to the present are
concerned--Buddhism, Christianity and Islam. The old tribal and national
religions originating in nature were not propagandist and lost all power
of resistance as soon as the independence of the tribe and people was
destroyed. Among the Germans simple contact with the decaying Roman
Empire and the Christian world-religion springing from it and suitable
to its economic, political and ideal circumstances, was sufficient. In
the first place, as regards these more or less artificial
world-religions, particularly in the cases of Christianity and
Mohammedanism, we find that the more universal historical movements will
take on a religious stamp, and as far as concerns Christianity in
particular, the stamp of the religion affecting revolutionary movements
of universal significance stopped short at the commencement of the fight
of the bourgeois for emancipation from the thirteenth to the seventeenth
century, and showed itself not as Feuerbach declares in the hearts of
men and the thirst for religion, but in the entire earlier history of
the Middle Ages which knew no other form of idealism than religion and
theology. But as the bourgeoisie in the eighteenth century was
sufficiently strong to have its own ideology suitable to its own
standpoint, it forthwith made its great and final revolution, the
French, by means of an appeal exclusively to juristic and political
ideals, and troubled itself with religion only so far as it stood in its
way. It never occurred to it to establish a new religion in place of
the old one; everybody knows what a mess Robespierre made of the
attempt.
The possibility of a purely humane sentiment in intercourse with other
men is with us today exceedingly impeded through the society founded on
class antagonism and class supremacy in which we must move. We have no
need to trouble ourselves about sanctifying these sentiments by means of
a new religion. And just as the circumstances of the great historical
class-fight have been obscured by the current historians, particularly
in Germany, so in the same way the understanding of the great historical
class-conflicts is sufficiently obscured by the present-day manner of
writing history, without our needing to change these conflicts into a
mere appendix of ecclesiastical history. Here it is evident how far we
in our day are away from Feuerbach. His most beautiful passages in
praise of the new religion of love are today unreadable.
The only religion which Feuerbach examined closely is Christianity, the
universal religion of the western world which is founded upon
monotheism. He proves that the Christian God is only the fantastic
reflection, the reflected image of man. But that God is himself the
product of a lengthy process of abstraction, the concentrated
quintessence of the earlier tribal and national gods. And man also whose
reflection that God is, is not a real man, but is likewise the
quintessence of many real men, the abstract human, and therefore himself
again the creature of thought. The same Feuerbach who on each page
preaches sensation, diving into the concrete, the real, becomes
thoroughly abstract as soon as he begins to talk of more than mere
sensual intercourse between human beings.
Of this relationship only one side appeals to him, the moral, and
Feuerbach's astonishing lack of resources as compared with Hegel is
striking. The ethic or rather moral doctrine of the latter, is the
Philosophy of Right and embraces: 1, Abstract Right; 2, Morality; 3,
Moral Conduct, under which are again comprised: the family, bourgeois,
society, and the State. As the form is here idealistic, the content is
realistic. The entire scope of law, economy, politics, is therein,
besides ethics. With Feuerbach, it is just the reverse. He is realistic
in form; he begins with man, but the discussion has absolutely nothing
to do with the world in which this man lives, and so, instead of the
man, stands an abstract man, who preaches sermons concerning the
philosophy of religion. This man is not even the son of a mother; he has
developed from the God of the monotheistic religions. He does not live
in real historic conditions and the world of history. He comes into
relationship with other men, but each of the others is just as much an
abstraction as he himself is. In the "philosophy of religion" we had
still men and women, but in the "ethic" this final distinction vanishes.
At long intervals Feuerbach makes such statements as: "A man thinks
differently in a palace than in a hut." "When you have nothing in your
body to ward off hunger and misery, you have nothing in your head, mind
and heart for morality." "Politics must be our religion," etc. But
Feuerbach was absolutely incapable of extracting any meaning from these
remarks; they remain purely literary expressions, and Starcke himself is
obliged to admit that the science of politics was an insuperable
obstacle to Feuerbach and the science of society, sociology, for him a
terra incognita.
He appears just as uninspired in comparison with Hegel in his treatment
of the antithesis of good and evil. "One thinks he is saying something
great," Hegel remarks "if one says that mankind is by nature good, but
it is forgotten that one says something far greater in the words 'man is
by nature evil.'" According to Hegel, evil is the form in which the
mechanical power of evolution shows itself, and indeed in this lies the
double idea that each new step forward appears as an outrage against a
sacred thing, as rebellion against the old, dying, but through custom,
sanctified, circumstances, and on the other hand that since the rising
of class antagonism, the evil passions of men, greed and imperiousness
serve as the levers of historical progress, of which, for example, the
history of feudalism and the bourgeoisie affords a conspicuous proof.
But Feuerbach does not trouble himself to examine the role of moral
evil. History is to him a particularly barren and unwonted field. Even
his statement, "Man as he sprang from nature originally was only a mere
creature, not a man." "Man is a product of human society, of education,
and of history." Even this statement remains from his standpoint
absolutely unproductive.
What Feuerbach communicates to us respecting morals must therefore be
exceedingly narrow. The desire for happiness is born within man and must
hence be the foundation of all morality. But the desire for happiness is
limited in two ways; first, through the natural results of our acts;
after the dissipation comes the headache, as a result of habitual
excess, sickness; in the second place, through its results upon society,
if we do not respect the similar desire for happiness on the part of
other people, they resist us and spoil our pursuit of happiness. It
follows, therefore, that in order to enjoy our pursuit of happiness, the
result of our acts must be rightly appreciated, and, on the other hand,
must allow of the carrying out of the same acts on the part of others.
Practical self-control with regard to ourselves and love, always love,
in our intercourse with others are therefore the foundation rules of
Feuerbach's morality, from which all others lead, and neither the
enthusiastic periods of Feuerbach nor the loud praises of Starcke can
set off the thinness and flatness of this pair of utterances.
The desire for happiness contents itself only very exceptionally, and by
no means to the profit of one's self or other people with self. But it
requires the outside world--means of satisfying itself--therefore means
of subsistence, an individual of the other sex, books, convention,
argument, activity, these means and matters of satisfaction are matters
of utility and labor. Feuerbach's system of morality either predicates
that these means and matters of satisfaction are given to every man _per
se_, or, since it gives him only unpractical advice, is not worth a jot
to the people who are without these means. And this Feuerbach himself
shows clearly in forcible words, "One thinks differently in a palace
than in a hut." "Where owing to misery and hunger you have no material
in your body, you have also no material in your head, mind and heart for
morals."
Are matters any better with the equal right of another to the pursuit of
happiness? Feuerbach set this statement out as absolute, as applicable
to all times and circumstances. But since when has it been true? Was
there in the olden time between slave and master or in the Middle Ages
between serf and baron any talk about equal rights to the pursuit of
happiness? Was not the right to the pursuit of happiness of the subject
class sacrificed to the dominant class regardlessly and by means of
law?--nay, that was immoral, but still equality of rights is recognized
now-a-days--recognized in words merely since the bourgeoisie in its
fight against feudalism and in the institution of capitalistic
production, was compelled to abolish all existing exclusive, that is,
personal, privileges, and for the first time to introduce the right of
the private individual, then also gradually the right of the State, and
equality before law. But the pursuit of happiness consists for the least
part only in ideal rights, and lies, for the most part, in means of
material satisfaction takes care that only enough for bare subsistence
falls to the great majority of those persons with equal rights, and
therefore regards the equality of right to the pursuit of happiness
hardly better than slavery or serfdom did. And are we better off as
regards mental means of happiness--means of education? Is not the
schoolmaster of Sadowa a mythical person?
Further, according to the ethical theory of Feuerbach, the Bourse is the
highest temple of morality, only provided that one speculate rightly. If
my pursuit of happiness leads me to the Bourse, and I, in following my
business, manage so well that only what is agreeable and nothing
detrimental comes to me, that is that I win steadily, Feuerbach's
precept is carried out. In this way I do not interfere with the similar
pursuit of happiness of anyone else, since the other man goes on the
Bourse just as voluntarily as I do, and at the conclusion of his affairs
a sentimental expression, for each finds in the other the satisfaction
of his pursuit of happiness which it is just the business of love to
bring about, and which it here practically accomplishes. And since I
carry on my operations with more exact prudence and therefore with
greater success I fulfill the strongest maxims of the Feuerbach moral
philosophy and become a rich man into the bargain. In other words,
Feuerbach's morality is hewn out of the capitalistic system of today,
little as he might wish or think it to be.
But love, yes love, is particularly and eternally the magical god who,
according to Feuerbach, surmounts all the difficulties of practical life
and that in a society which is divided into classes with diametrically
opposing interests. The last remnant of its revolutionary character is
thus taken from his philosophy, and there remains the old cant--"love
one another"--fall into each other's arms without regard to any
impediment of sex or position--universal intoxication of reconciliation.
In a word, the moral theories of Feuerbach turn out to be the same as
those of all of his predecessors. It is a hodge-podge of all times, all
people, and all conditions, and for this occasion is applicable to no
time and place, and as regards the actual world is as powerless as
Kant's "Categorical Imperative." As a matter of fact, every class, as
well as every profession, has its own system of morals and breaks even
this when it can do it without punishment, and love, which is to unite
all, appears today in wars, controversies, lawsuits, domestic broils and
as far as possible mutual plunder.
But how was it possible that the powerful impetus given by Feuerbach
turned out so unprofitable to Feuerbach himself. Simply in this way,
because Feuerbach could not find his way out of the abstraction, which
he hated with a deadly hatred, to living reality. He clutches hard at
Nature and Humanity, but "Nature" and "Humanity" remain empty words with
him. He does not know how to tell us anything positive about real nature
and real men. We can only reach living men from the abstract men of
Feuerbach if we regard them as active historical agents. Feuerbach
strove against that, hence the year 1848, which, he did not understand,
signified for him merely the final break with the real world, retirement
into solitude. German conditions must for the most part bear the guilt
of allowing him to starve miserably.
But the step which Feuerbach did not make had not yet been made. The
cultus of man in the abstract which was the kernel of Feuerbach's
religion must be replaced by the knowledge of real men and their
historical development. This advance of Feuerbach's view beyond
Feuerbach himself was published in 1845 by Marx in the "Holy Family."
IV.
Strauss, Bauer, Stirner, Feuerbach, these were the minor representatives
of the Hegelian philosophy, so far as they did not abandon the field of
philosophy. Strauss has, in addition to the "Life of Jesus" and
"Dogmatics," only produced philosophical and ecclesiastical historical
work of a literary character, after the fashion of Renan; Bauer has
merely done something in the department of primitive Christianity, but
that significant; Stirner remained a "freak" even after Bakunine had
mixed him with Proudhon and designated his amalgamation "Anarchism."
Feuerbach alone possessed any significance as a philosopher; but not
only did philosophy remain for him the vaunted superior of all other
sciences, the quintessence of all science, an impassable limitation, the
untouchable holy thing, he stood as a composite philosopher; the under
half of him was materialist, the upper half idealist. He was not an apt
critic of Hegel but simply put him aside as of no account, while he
himself, in comparison with the encyclopedic wealth of the Hegelian
system, contributed nothing of any positive value, except a bombastic
religion of love and a thin, impotent system of ethics.
But from the breaking up of the Hegelian school there proceeded another,
the only one which has borne real fruit, and this tendency is coupled
with the name of Marx.[2]
In this case the separation from the Hegelian philosophy occurred by
means of a return to the materialistic standpoint, that is to say, a
determination to comprehend the actual world--nature and history--as it
presents itself to each one of us, without any preconceived idealistic
balderdash interfering; it was resolved to pitilessly sacrifice any
idealistic preconceived notion which could not be brought into harmony
with facts actually discovered in their mutual relations, and without
any visionary notions. And materialism in general claims no more. Only
here, for the first time in the history of the materialistic philosophy,
was an earnest endeavor made to carry its results to all questions
arising in the realm of knowledge, at least in its characteristic
features.