MASTER NEGATIVE NO. 91-80338 MICROFILMED 1991 COLUMBIA UNIVERSITY LIBRARIES/NEW YORK as part of the "Foundations of Western Civilization Preservation Project Funded by the NATIONAL ENDOWMENT FOR THE HUMANITIES Reproductions may not be made without permission from Columbia University Library COPYRIGHT STATEMENT The copyright law of the United States - Title 17, United States Code - concerns the making of photocopies or other reproductions of copyrighted material... Columbia University Library reserves the right to refuse to accept a copy order if, in its judgement, fulfillment of the order would involve violation of the copyright law. AUTHOR: COLVIN, STEPHEN TITLE: SCHOPENHAUER'S DOCTRINE... PLACE: PROVIDENCE, R. I. DA TE : 1897 COLUMBIA UNIVERSriT LIBRARIES ['RESERVATION DEPARTMENT Master Negative # Bn?LT;G.v\PHIC MICROFORM TARGET Restrictions on Use: Original Material as Filmed - Existing Bibliographic Record SBSchbColvm^ wtephevi ^Dnsido-n^ 1669- lH--~- w T^^ ' bchope-nh^w^eVs aoc+Tine o+ the thing- in- ii"sel+ and his ^Hernpt tQ Tei^^-fe fo +ne woyIq ot pnsnonnen?^. Providence i6^7. ' Q ^^a \f t StT^SSDw4T(^ un y- i. TECHNICAL MICROFORM DATA FILM SIZE: ^^2\X^ REDUCTION RATIO IMAGE PLACEMENT: lA (I^A ID IIB DATE FILMED: M^^jLiS INITI ALS_.rLL0LlU1lLl'_v HLMEDBY: RESEARCFi PUBLICATIONS. INC WOODnijTPGE, CT (I ^ )^> vb. r Ulllfl A— o c latlott fof Inforifiatl o n * * ? ■> a l mB^e Manacie m e n 1 1100 Wayfit; Avenue, ouite iiuu Silver Spring, Maryland 20910 301/587-8202 \ Centimeter 2 I Inches 3 I 4 i 2 ! • ! 1.0 I.I 1.25 8 10 I 11 ! I 12 I I mAmmmmmmimm m0i^^it^^m>i^mm»mmiiMim^ui>*^mmfM I I I I II I i |50 2.5 — '- i^r^ 2.2 |63 "** 140 u Kiku 2.0 1.8 1.4 1.6 13 14 15 mm ' ' Sllllllllllll 111 I I I II I I MfiNUFflCTURED TO PIIM STfiNDRRDS BY nPPLIED IMRGE. INC. T o Ci 'P. j^: • ••. if; < N o o J I i / L#-k ti, 5 r' V ■fi»^ # ■*<« \s •^ fc-fc^^** 4 #^ lb jM^oi 'If ; id ' * • ' *' 'l I. • • * ♦ • SCHOPEXH\rHR'S DOCTRINE OF THE / TH!NG-iN-!TSELF AND HIS ATTEMPT TO RELATE IT TO THK : tS,,? , Mi- T J m ?f. II- P' ■" li 935cK6> TCI ®oUtmI)la mnlxicvsity in titc (Citij of |Xciu \HovU iLibvary GIVEN BY SWf^ssbwrq U-niversi^y^ I* i ''■i I WORLD OF FIIEXOMEXA INAUGURAL DISSERTATION FOR THE ACQUISITION OF THE DOCTOR'S DEGKEK 1 RuM THE PHILOSOPHICAL FACULTY OF THE KAISKR-WILHELMS-UNIV- ERSITY OF STRASSBURG IN ALSACE. PRESENTED BY STiiPHEN SHELDON COLVIN. PKi.'\-IDENCE, K. r. •j i i F. 1 ' R A N K L I K F K i : J^ S . pi • &>?' ^-' ' " Ff^--^ ' ^fea' '*' m-^' |^^^~ (k^ , fer. • " il I tfilili liil'ii iiiifflliiBlililill ii . ' m; -i •'-5*1 / • • •* .• • 1 * « • • - * » • » t « • • • • » t ^ • • , , r . » •« • • , ■ » • • • • * • • « • . f TO Accepted by the Philosophical Faculty, May 15, 1897. PROK. W. G. KVERETT T, WITH KSTB^eM A^ND QRATITUDK. i ) ,1 / / TABLE OF CONTENTS. CHAPTER 1. THE WORLDS OF BEING AND OF BECOMING. § 1. Schopenhauer recognizes the necessity of their union, a union which is made difficult by his ei)istenK)k)gy. § 2. Possil)le modes of rehition as set forth in Scho})en- hauer's doctor's dissertation. — The causal and the teleok)gi- cal notions. § 3. The nature of the thing-in-itself and of phenomena as expounded by Scho[)enhauer. CHAPTER n. ATTEMPT TO JOIN PHENOMENA WITH NOUMENA, PROCEEDING FROM THE FORMER. § 4. Schopenhauer's epistemology in relation to Kant's ^'mven. M § 5. Method of reaching and determining the nature of the will. CHAPTER HI ATTEMPT TO JOIN NOUMENA WITH PHENOMENA BY FINDINCr IN THE FORMER A POSITIVE PRINCIPLE FOR THEIR CONNECTION. § 6. The doctrine of parallelism. — Spinoza's philosophy. § 7. The doctrine of the empirical and the intelligible character. — Kant' s philosophy. § 8. The doctrine of the idea and its copy. — Plato's philosophy. § 9. The doctrine of immanence. — Aristotle's phil- osophy. \ / CHAPTER IV. THE TELEOLOGICAL PHASE OF SCHOPENHAUEr's DOCTRINE. § 10. Its connection with the transcendental side of Aristotle's system. ft. § 11. Its relation to Fichte's philosophy and Neo-Pla- tonic mysticism. ^12. Schopenhauer's system yiewed as an ethical and religious philosophy. i) • • • • • • • • • t • • • • • • • < . • • • . ••• • • • i » t • ' , . . , . » • • • « ■ • • • • • • * » » « • • « ■ / I \ , I "™%V y I . CHAPTER !. THE WORLDS OF BEING AND BECOMING. WHEN Greek philosophy with the intuitive insight of fresh awaking genius first developed the antithesis of the worlds of Being and Becoming it raised a })robleni whose solution was to busy the speculative thinking of the ages to come. The relation between these two worlds, the bond of union which joins the ceaseless flux of j)henomenal existence to the eternal changeless essence — this has furnished material for an inquiry of the greatest profund- ity, an inquiry which the schools and systems of Antiquity, the disputations of the Middle Ages and the metaphysics of Modern Times have continually sought to answer. True, some sceptical of human attainment have been content to limit knowledge to the workl of experience, while others with dogmatic assurance have in their eager search after ultimate reality left far behind the realm of phenomena, thus forgetting the source and aim of their inquiries; but neither sceptic nor dogmatist can be said to have achieved results of a permanent character. The human mind can never content itself with a phenomenal world which contains in itself no abiding reality. Equally unsatisfactory is the realm of transcendent shadows where abstract concepts without flesh and blood elude the grasp of the seeker after truth. The worlds of Being and of Becoming both have their worth and 'their justification but neither alone can be said to have true meaning or existence. No philosopher has recognized more clearly than Schopenhauer the necessity of an intimate rela- tion between these two worlds. His entire system, from one point of view at least, may properly be considered as an explanation of the physical universe through super physical concepts. For him metaphysics is the interpretation of experience, and a transcendental hypothesis is valid only in 1 I 1 ( • • :.•/ • • • • • • • , I / ^ if / CHAPTER I. THE WORLDS OF BEING AND BECOMING. I. W HEN Greek philosophy with the intuitive insight of fresh awaking genius first developed the antithesis of the workls of Being: and Becoming it raised a problem whose sohition was to busy the speculative thinking of the ages to come. The relation between these two worlds, the bond of union which joins the ceaseless flux of phenomenal existence to the eternal changeless essence — this has furnished material for an inquiry of the greatest profund- ity, an inquiry which the schools and systems of Antiquity, the disputations of the Middle Ages and the metaphysics of Modern Times have continually sought to answer. True, some sceptical of human attainment have been content to limit knowledge to the worki of experience, w^hile others with dogmatic assurance have in their eager search after ultimate reality left far behind the realm of phenomena, thus forgetting the source and aim of their inquiries; but neither sceptic nor dogmatist can be said to have achieved results of a permanent character. The human mind can never content itself with a phenomenal world which contains in itself no abiding reality. Equally unsatisfactory is the rtalm of transcendent shadows where abstract concepts without flesh and blood elude the grasp of the seeker after truth. The worlds of Being and of Becoming both have their worth and their justification but neither alone can be said to have true meaning or existence. No philosopher has recognized more clearly than Schopenhauer the necessity of an intimate rela- tion between these two worlds. His entire system, from one point of view at least, may properly be considered as an explanation of the physical universe through superphysical concepts. For him metaphysics is the interpretation of experience, and a transcendental hypothesis is valid only in m A m t i f We ,'* J8 B>^- • c • • • • •»• «, . • * * » • • « • • • • .. • • • • • . • . , > * ( 8 so far as it is adapted to phenomena. He has styled philoso phy world wisdom whose business it is to solve the riddle of the universe. ''The problem of meta})hysics," he writes (11-201) '^ "is in truth not the observation of particular experiences, but the proper interpretation of the totality of experience. Its foundation nnist, therefore, by all means be of an empirical nature, ' ' and again, metaphysics ' ' never separates itself completely from experience, but is simply the explanation and exposition of the same, since it never speaks of the thing-in-itself otherwise than in its relation to phenomena." (11-208). Under such assumptions no metaphysical system can lay claim to recognition which does not attempt, at least, to show its connection with physics, but this connection Schopen- hauer, on account of his epistemological presuppositions, was perhaps, of all metaphysical in(iuirers, least able to establish. This epistemology, inherited from Kant, is in certain important respects an emendation of the teachings of its author, but the emendation, especially the discarding of the distinction between the understanding and the reason (the most favorable point of departure for a metaphysics on the Kantian basis), can hardly be said to have been suited to aiev{md my j)ower. In the place of such an attempt I limit myself to the examination of reason and its ])ure thought solely." To those, who find in Kant's aim ^^of al)oIishing knowledge to make room for l)elief '* a satisfactory foundation for trans- cendental knowledge, the following passage from the Criti(]ue of I^u-e Reason is noteworthy. Here he asserts: ''The conviction (in regard to the existence of a Godi is not a logical but a moral certainty, and since it rests on subjective grounds (of the moral sentiment) 1 must not for a moment say : /t As- morally certain that there is a God, etc., but / ((//f morallv certain, etc., that is, the belief in God and in another world is so interwoven with my moral sen- timent that 1 am under as little ap})rehension of losing the former as of having the latter torn from me."-'' Such belief may ])e all suHicient from a i)rju:tical stand})oint, but it can hardly be called, as Caird-1- would maintain, more than knowledofe; in reality it is soniethino' far less. Further, whatever sliixht advantao^e Schopenhauer miiiiit have obtained from the practical and religious side of the Kantian })hilos- o])hv, he himself discards, declarimr the second edition of the Criticpie a ''bad improvement " of the tir.^t. in which Kant • The Roman numerals I and II refer to the first and second volumes respectively of Schopenhauer's " Die Welt als Wille ujid Vorstelluug," Brockh'aus edition, Leipzig, 1891. * Vol. II., p. 638; Rrserikranz, Leipzig;, 1838 t Edward Caird, '^The Critical Philosophy of Kaiit/' New York, 1889. '^ / ) V lo through the weakness of old age withdrew the vigor of his attacks upon ''the sacred doctrines of dogmatic philosophy. " Schopenhauer in accepting Kant's doctrine and in insist- ing upon its most literal interpretation failed, a})parently, to recognize that the Critical Philosophy was in no sense a metaphysics, and when held strictly to its presup})ositions mast lead to the overthrow of all attempts to discover an ultimate reality. The doctrine of the thing-in-itself, the most vulnerable part of the teaching of Kant, is misinter- preted by Schopenhauer into a positive i)rinciple and made the basis of an attempt to reach the transcendent. That such an attempt v/as essentially self contradictory and implic- itly contained the germs of its own destruction was disregarded, , while Schopenhauer, reaching the thing-in-itself by a method in sharpest contradiction to a theory of knowledge which declared all relation between phenomena and noumena impossible, f-eeks to tit out this absolute (which, however, is never really the thing-in-itself) into a principle for the ex- planation of experience. Yet when the world of sense and the thing-in-itself are once completely sundered, no brid-j^e can span the gulf between them. Schopenhauer, however, does not shrink from the task. Indeed, why should he, as for him paradoxes are evidences of profundity and contra- dictions are the most certain of truths "i But it is to be noted that as long as Schopenhauer holds strictly to the Kantian epistemology his success is never real, and oiily temporarily apparent. The thing-in-itself either remains an empty form, or becomes a tangible thing of flesh and blood by suffering reduction to the rank of simple phenomena, while it bears a name to which it is no longer entitled. The /true thing-in-itself, as far as it is reached at all by Schopen- \ hauer, is arrived at by emi)loyingan epistemological ground- ) > r M t 11 work not recognized by the Critical Philosophy. What this epistemology is will later appear, but for the present atten- tion will be directed to Schopenhauer's failure to pass be- yond phenomena according to his own doctrine most clearly expressed in his doctor's dissertation ''On the Fourfold Root of the Prmciple of Sufficient Reason.'' 2. ] This dissertation, though the earliest of Schopenhauer's works, is bv no means his least able, and bv far the most consistent. Yet even here mav l^e seen the necessarv char- acter of the contradictions which a})pear in his su])se(iuent metaphysical writings, since in this treatise Schopenhauer deliberately cuts oft' all paths which might lead to noumena by limiting all relations to the world of phenomena. The four possible modes of relation set forth are: (1) the logi- cal; (2) the spacial and temporal; (3) the causal: (4) the tel- eological. Yet, as has l)een previously pointed out, Scho- penhauer's express aim is to explain the world of sense in its relation to the thing-in-itself and not to discover a trans- cendent reality which has no connection with phenomena. Relations must be assumed and it therefore becomes nec- essarv to examine more closely these four forms as treated by the philosopher in order to discover if any secret door re- main by which he may surreptitiously pass from phenomena to noumena. The iirst two modes of relation are clearly in themselves insufficient for Schopenhauer's purpose. The attempt to construct a universe out of mere logical rela- tions finds its exemplication and inadequacy in the Abso- lute Thought of the Hegelian school. Materialism, like- wise, fails to explain reality by positing atoms which have their sole bond of connection in space and time. Indeed, such a method of building up a world is definitely repudi- ated by Schopenhauer. The meagreness of these concepts in ^ w ■ S I i L^ > tV*s"-i 12 themselves, however, does not exclude the i)ossibility of their obtaining importance in connection with the second two modes of relation, the causal and the teleological which are evidently nuich weightier. Upon examination the causal law is found to have a most intimate connection with the temporal and s{)acial notions, so intimate in fact that at tirst sii^ht it mav seem that this law can have no real njeaning when se[)arated from action in space and occurrence in time. A closer investigation reveals the fact that the causal notion is of a dual nature ; a fact which if not cirefully held in mind may lead to serious anomalies and contradictions. These dithculties arise in viewing the causal law purely siih specie teinpnri^^ as expressed in the fornuda : Every change has its cause. This temporal notion of causality requires that between every cause and its effect a certain interval of time shall have elapsed ; otherwise we have an eii'ect contemporaneous with the cause amino chan^^e has resulted. Yet here a diflicultv for thought arises, for a cause which is separated from it> effect for the smallest conceivable time is not })roperly tiie cause of the given effect. If between the cause A and the effect B a time interval exists, reason will attempt to till up the gap, as for example .1, a, h, B; in which series a is the eff'ect of A and the cause of h, which in turn becomes the cause of B. But again the same difficulty repeats itself, for between each member of the time series in the second formula a certain time is likewise supposed to have ela})sed. Other members must be introduced and the process nuist be carried on ad injinltny,. Thus reason at this point finds the temporal notion of rausality inadequate. I)e riatura rat Ion !h est ren sah quadant (eternUatiH specie percipere (Spinoza, Ethics). From another standpoint the causal law s ) \ $> ^ h , 13 presents a similar difliculty. A as the cause of B, contains in itself no sufficient ground for the effect which proceeds from it, since A likewise must be regarded as an effect of a preceding cause. In seeking to ffnd a cause for B which in itself shall not ))e contingent (does not owe its existence to a |)receding cause), thought fails to find satisfaction, being confronted ])y an eternal regress. Again reason finds itself in a helpless tangle. T)e luiturd cinm raii-rui..'^. c-i rc>^ id nec- essarais et non id c(>)ili ngtntes corde)nplarl (S\n\\o7.Q.^ Ethics.) Kant's treatment of the causal law both in the Critique and in the Prolegomena, is especially pertinent in considera- tion of this latter anomalv. In the solution of the third antinomv two notions of causality are presented, one of which the philosopher terms the causality of nature, the other that of freedom. The causalitv of nature is limited to phenomena as necessarilvoccurin^ in time. Of the causality of freedom Kant says (Prolegomena, § 53): ''If, on the other hand, freedom be the characteristic of certain causes of phenomena, it must as regards the latter as events ])e a faculty of beginning them from itself [sponte)^ i. e. without the causalitv of the cause itself havinix Ijegun, and hence another f^round would be necessarv to determine the begin- ning. In this case, however, the cause as to its causality, must not he s\d)jected to time deterinlnations of its state, that is, it must not be phenomena, but must l)e regarded as a thin demands the notion of time. Here the idea of the end arises in time and the entire series is determined by the relation of the members in ) s (^ • J / 15 time. Such a teleology involves the positing of a material in which the idea finds but a partial realization and is exemplifi- ed in the plan of the builder as seen in the product of his skill. Against this conception Kant's polemic is directed in his discussion of the physico -theological proof for the exist- ence of God. The teleological idea when freed from the l)onds of time rises to the dignity of a metaphysical cause and becomes of a different character than the temporal notion of causality. Here the priority of the end is not temporal but logical; further the end is not realized in a material foreign to itself, the effect appearing with its cause. An attempt has been made to conceive such teleology as independent of consciousness. The conception, however, if it is considered objectively demands a cause working along the lines of thought. Whether this is possible without thought is an important ([uestion, but cannot materially change the notion of the teleological law itself. If this teleological cause is treated purely subjectively it becomes, as with Kant, simply a heuristic principle for the interpreta- tion of phenomena and its application to a world-ground in itself is unjustifiable. In the subsequent discussion it will be seen what an important })art the causal law plays in Schop- enhauer's attempts to connect phenomena and noumena. It will then be shown that the philosopher avails himself of the metaphysical character of the causal notion, though never admittino: its existence. The teleoloofical determination of this notion will likewise be found to have a most intimate and vital connection with the system under consideration, transforming it in the end to such an extent that the original doctrine is to a great measure done away with. Before, however, tracing the various steps of this transition and before outlining Schopenhauer's procedure in his attempt to I f I 16 construct a iiielupliysico and relate it to the world of ex- perience, it will be advantageous to point out more clearly the general point of view from which the system as a whole proceeds. 3.] When w^e seek to discover Schopenhauer's teachings concerning the nature of the two worlds of phenomena and y \ nouraena we do not lind his statements in relation to them at all times consistent and satisfactory. As has been said, however, the doctrine set forth is plainly a development in the first instance of the Kantian philosophy from the standpoint of the thing-in-itsrflf. The thing-in- itself, as with Kant, is removed entirely from the world of relation, for a thing in relation can no longer be a thing-in-itself. Despite this the thing-in-itself is considered by Scho|)enhauer in accordance with Kant as the ground of phenomena; but from this point onward Schopenhauer advances beyond the point of view^ of the Critical Philosophy, and seeks to give a positive deter- mination to this transcendent and purely limitative concep- tion. We are told by Schopenhauer that the thing-in-itself is the hv Hoi nav^ the one and the all. That in this concep- tion there is not added an imj)()rtant or productive princij)Ie for the development of the barren ide.t of the thing-in-itself, but rather another purely negative motion, Schopenhauer clearly shows in his statement concerninir the nature of the unity involved in the idea. '^ It (the will) is one, vet not as an object is one, whose unity is recognized only in opposition to a possible multiplicity, nor again as a concept is one which arises only by abstraction from multiplicity; but it is one as that which lies beyond time and space, the prlnclpunn individuation Is ^ that is the possi})ility of multiplicity." (I- 134). It is here evident that Schopenhauer reaches the ^'y Hal nav purely as the opposing pole of phenomena, thus > \( V ' ) ( / 17 remaining in the fullest accord with the Critique of the Pure Reason by holding to the absolute ideality of space and time together with the pure phenomenal application of the causal law. The fact that he does not accept the remaining Kantian Categories of the understanding as constructive principles, while making the category of causality a function of simple intuition is an interesting detail in his theory of knawledge, but is not significant in considering his doctrine as to the nature of phenomena. Schopenhauer's doctrine in its most radical form may, perhaps, be considered as a legitimate development of the Kantian epistemology, but is certainly not in accord w ith the evident meaning of the Critical Philosophy. Expressed in a word, it is the complete relativity of all things. The world is relative first of all in its particular determinations, l)ecause each individual thing exists only in relation to another in the ceaseless flow of time, in the boundless extent of space and in the eternal regression of the causal nexus. Nothing is permanent, all flows. In this Heracli- tean w^orld of kaleidoscopic change exist only forms and shapes which know no abiding. The w^orld which we appre- hend wdth our senses ' ' is purely appearance and knowledge ^f 7>r/(^>7'^ has validity simply in relation to this." Further, the world considered as a totality is as relative as the parts which compose it, since the world exists for us an object ; but as an object requires a subject and has no permanence of its own, so the world vanishes when the subject disappears, ''The entire world is only an object in relation to a subject, the intuiting of intuitions, in a word idea. All which belongs, or even can belong, to the w^orld is inevitably con- ditioned in this determination through the subject and is there only for the subject." (1-4). Berkeley is praised \ V \ / c \ I * 18 by Schopenhauer for giving a definite expression to the principle which finds e.^-^e alone in i^ercipi and allows the world to exist only as a dream. The world which presents itself to our senses has ''purely a seeming existence." It is the veil of Maja and something so completely unreal that we can deny its being with as much pro[)riety as we can affirm it. So the external world becomes reduced to a mere sub- jective feeling. Yet this idealistic position allows the sul)- ject to remain a permanent reality amid all relativity, but Schopenhauer with one bold sweep removes this last solid foothold. He cannot, it is true, refute the teaching of com- plete subjective idealism, though he pronounces those who seriously maintain it fit subjects for the madhouse. He places subject and object on equal terms, yet he does not permit the objt:ct to exist by raising it to the permanence of the subject ; he takes the converse method and gives the subject an existence no more real than that of the object. The subject, we are told, is only the subject of knowledge, which must have for its correlate an object. Here we find ourselves confronted by a relativity from which there seems no possibility of escape. The world considered as a sum of particular things has no stability, since each individual is conditioned throuo:h another : neither has the world as a totality any greater permanency, since it is conditioned thi ough a subject, and lastly, this subject exists not in itself but only in relation to an object. Schopenhauer attempts to reinforce this theoretical position by an argument based on empirical observation, thus falling into the most gross and self-evident of contradictions. ''The subjective and the objective," writes the philosopher (11-12), constitute no e^>7?^//M/?/7/r, that which is immediately known is limited by the skin, or rather by the external end of the y \ \ 19 nerves which lead out from the cerebral system. Without lies a world of which we have no other knowledge than through pictures in our head." Here the subjectivity of the impressions of sense is attempted to be proved by a - process of reasoning based on the physical construction of our bodies, but unfortunately for Schopenhauer's contention, our bodies (at least as extended in space and active in time) are impressions from the idealist's standpoint as purely sul)- jective as the forest, the field or the sky. It is evident that such an argument could have weight only when we assume that we possess a knowledge of the construction of our bodies not derived through empirical means. Schopen- hauer has credited man with a knowledge of certain things belonging to the external world (here the brain and the nerve organs) in order to prove that the external world is removed entirely from our knowledge. In fact, he does not shrink from giving definite expression to this most palpable of errors, by asserting that in his explanation the existence of the body presupposed the world as idea in as much as the body exists as body, or real object, alone in the world as idea; and on the other hand the idea itself presupposes the body, since the idea arises alone through the function of an organ of the same. Thus Schopenhauer, following the most"" radical of the French materialists, reduces the intellect to a simple function of the brain, while at the same time asserting that the whole world hangs on a single thread, consciousness. " The intellect, as of a secondary nature' is dependent throughout on a particular organ, the brain, whose function it is, just as grasping is the function of the hand,'' (11-278.) Such a doctrine can hope for no rational justification, and its only defence is to be found in the words of Tertullian; " Credihile est quia hieptum est, \ / < I \ I i i i !■ I 20 cerium est quia impossiUe est^ credo quia alsurdum.^'' At this point we find Schopenhauer's theory of cognition devel- oped to its most absurd consequences. His position in reo-ard to the nature of consciousness leads to the absolute relativity of the world from the empirical side as does his epistemology from the theoretical side. Under such conditions it is easy to see why Schopenhauer at the outset is compelled to seek his only reality in a thing- in-itself, which when closely examined is nothing more or less than bare Eliatic Being, whose conception is condi- tioned on the abstraction from it of all characteristics of the world of phenomena. Yet such a pure essence is to- tally incapable of furnishing a ground for the world. A positive quality is therefore sought from which the world may be developed. This positive quality Schopenhauer finds in his conception of the will, but here again the phil- osopher is obliged to deny to it all phenomenal qualities. This will lacks at the outset what is ordinarily regarded as the sijie qua nm of its existence, i. e. self -conscious- ness. It becomes a perfectly blind and aimless principle removed from all change. It retains the name of will, but the substance of this name has vanished. Schopenhauer by playing fast and loose with this conception is able at one time to make the will assume the functions of the thingr-in- itself, at another time to give it all the definite determina- tions of its phenomenal manifestations. In other words the will has two distinct sides, one phenomenal and the other noumenal, so that by the double use of language Schopen- hauer is able to present a plausible argument for his meta- physical theory. The phenomenal world, too, is made to appear in a dual character. Schopenhauer interprets his proposition: ''The world is my idea " at one time as if it 21 should read, The world is my idea, and nothing more; at another time, The world is my idea, but only in part. The system which is thus constructed has at the best an in- secure foundation, and must develop w^ithin itself many contradictions, until it at length breaks out into open contra- dictions with its epistemological ground work. Finally we find a return to the Kantian 'standpoint, and in his ethical and religious philosophy, Schopenhauer once more exalts the thing-in-itself (no longer the will) to a point beyond human view where it becomes the goal of religious mysti- cism. y I \ ( 22 's *■ I; i % ■ CHAPTER 11. ATTEMPT TO JOIN PHENOMENA WITH NOUMENA. j f-y CHOPENHAUER compares metaphysics and 4J >w physics with two parties of miners ^'who far O removed from each other tunnel in the bosom of the earth and must meet if they work properly/' This simile as applied to Schopenhauer's system may be taken as illustrative of the mode of procedure which it exemplifies. The philosopher seeks to unite phenom- ena and noumena, ^a) by iinding in the world traces of the thing-in-itself and (b) by introducing into the thmg- in-itself phenomenal elements. The attempt to connect nou- mena with phenomena by proceeding from the latter may be set forth under two principal points of view as illustra- ted, first in Schopenhauer's epistemology, and secondly in his method of reaching the thing-in-itself and determining its nature. His attempt to make noumena a principle for explaining phenomena divides itself into four main topics according to his various ways of looking at the thing-in- itself. They may be tabulated as follows: {a) Theory of Parallelism; the philosophy of Spinoza: Q)) Theory of the Empirical and Intelligible Character; the philosophy of Kant: (6^ Theory of the Idea and its copy; the philosoi)hy of Plato: (d) Theory of Immanence; the philosophy of Aristotle. Finally Schopenhauer's metaphysics may be considered from their purely negative side as set forth in his ethical and religious teachings. Here we find ourselves not far removed from Fichte's philosophy and Neo-Platonism. 23 Schopenhauer's theory of cognition, limiting the intellect, as has been seen, to the empirical world and thought through the relativity of subject and object and through the four forms of the Law of Reason (^Satz vom Grunde)^ never reaches beyond the circle prescribed by itself to anything which can claim an independent existence. This epistemology, instead of assuming that the real nature of an object becomes the more definite the more it relates itself to the subject of knowledt>-e, and further that the categories of intuition and thourtht brino- to lidit the true essence of their contents, maintains with strange perversity that under such conditions the obj'ct's characteristics arc rendered more and more uncertain. In fact this epistemology, if held strictly to account, is forced to admit that it is totally unwarranted in assuming the existence of anything beyond the limits of individual consciousness. Thus knowledge, which Schopen- hauer defines as ''an idea resulting from a physiological })rocess in the brain of an animal," is no longer worthy of its name. Kant sought to save his olyject from absolute subiectivitv }>v recoonizinri7U'fj)iuni individuation is J are the source of delusion and error; it remains for causality to reach the unconditioned from the con- ditioned. It is evident that Schopenhauer finds the starting point for his theory of the will in a psychological fact, and it is equally apparent that he attempts to find an adequate cause f / 33 to explain the phenomena included under this fact. His con- clusion is, that the will as thing-in-itself is the author of the individual, phenomenal wills. We are told that the ])ody is the irorl^ of the will, that in the will alone lies the eternol pou^pr which gives rise to individual forms. The will is the most real of all things, but '-that which docs not ad is likewise nothing ' ' (11-3^2. ) But the concepts of ^rorl^i?^(7, of jHNrrr, of action are the very essence of the causal idca."^' Schopenhauer's procedure in atte!iii)ting to estal)lish the con- tention that the will is the l)asis of the |)henomcna of nature as well as of those of the individual Ego shows beyond a doubt that he conceived a causal relation to exist between pheno- mena and the thing-in-itself. He saysJI-SOl^): - Along the subjective road the inner nature is at every moment acces- sible to us: there we find it immediately as the will in our- selves, and we must ihvough the jrri7ieij)Ie of analog!/ to om' own ])eing be able to solve the riddle of the being of others." In other words, Schopenhauer finds a similarity existing between oiu- bodies and oV)jects in the external world, tliere- forc he concludes that the crfNsc which produced one must l)e the same as, or similar to that whicli produced the other. Thus the thing-in-itself in Nature is reached l)y an undis- irnised use of the causal law, for the entire validity of the nr-ument from analogy rests on the assumption that like causes produce like effects, t * cf. Sigwart's Logic, Band II, 2 Auflage, § 73. t The following use of tliis argument to establish a common cause for all phenomena in the external world is noteworthy: "^ehe ich nun auf diese Weise Eines sich meinem Bhcke entziehen, ohne dass ich je erfahre wohin es gehe ; und ein Anderes hcrvortreten ohnedass ich je erfahre, woher es komme ; haben dazu noch Beu.e dieselbeGestalt, dasselbe Wesen, den selben Charakter, nur allem i / 6 I 36 CHAPTER 111. ATTEMPT TO JOIN NOUMENA WITH THENX^MENA. T is now evident tiiat Schopenliaiier in his atteni})! to estal)lish a connection between the world and the thina- in-itself, in so far as he sets out from the former, is suc- cessful only through employing the causal law as the 1)ond of this connection; for, as has been seen, his epistemology hid- denly recocrnizes the validity of this law in its transcendental ap})lication, while his method of reaching the will is confront- ed with the necessity of employing it. The question now arises, Can the philosopher succeed better in connecting phenomena with noumena, proceeding from the latter ? Can there be introduced into the idea of the thing-in -itself any positive (quality by which it will be possil)le to pass from the Avorld of Beinof to that of Becomini]^ in any other man- ner than by the establishing of a causal connection l^etween the individual thing and its innermost essence ? The con- sideration of the problem from this point of view, as has already been said, involves a comparison of Schopenhauer's doctrine with the systems of Spinoza, Kant, Plato and Aris- totle. ' ' Betw^een the act of the will and the action of the body there is absolutely no causal connection," writes Schopen- hauer,* 'i but both are immediately one and the same per- ceived in a double manner, once in self consciousness, or the inoer sense, as an act of the will, and at the same time in the outer, spacial phenomena of the brain as an act of the body." Ao-ain : " In reflection alone is wall and act dif- ferent, in reality they are one. Each true, genuine, imme- * Satz vorn zureich. Grunde, § 21, p. 79. Brockhau's edition. V / diate act of tho will is directly and inime liately also a visi- ble act of the body, and corresponding to this on the otlier side every affection of the body is also at once and iuiincdiatoly an affection of the wiir^ (1-120.) The doctrine expressed here is that of an exact parallelism between the inner and the outer series of phenomena. The entire body presents in its particular changes the outer side of an inner nature corresponding exactly to it. Yet again, - as the human body in general corresponds to the liumjui will in general, so the individual bodily structure, which consecinently com- pletely and in all parts is characteristic and exi)ressive, cor- responds to the individually moditied wills, to the character of particular individuals/' (1-121).) Further, Schopenhauer teaches that the inner world in certain M()n-temi)oral and eternal determinations linds its counterpart in a corresjiond- incr series of changeless characteristics in the world of space. *' The parts of the body must exactly correspond to the principal cravings through which the wdll manifests itself, must be the visible expression of the same: teeth, throat and alimentary canal are objectitied hunger; the genitals ob- jectified sexual desire; the grasping hand, the luirrying foot correspond to the more mediate strivings of the will, which they express" (T-129) Thus three grades of paral- lelism are distinctly outlined. First, there is a corres[)ond- ence between the individual acts of the })ersonal will and the individual actions of the body, secondly, l)ctwecn the individual will as an expression of an individual char- acter m toto and the body there is a like parallel; and thirdly, between the wdll in its various changeless attributes and the world of sense as viewed in race {Gatttfjuj) char- acteristics there is also a parallel. The doctrine here expressed is not original with Scho- penhauer, but finds its systematic exposition in the philoso- ^ i > \ P m phy of Spinoza. For Spinoza there exists as the ground of the universe the Absolute Substance wdiich is as with Scho- penhauer the fV xal ndv. Per substaatlain intdJigo Id quod in se est et ^^^r se conclpHuv; hoc cd id, cuin.s con- ct'ptuH 7ion indUjct coiiceptu altcrius vti^ a (jao forinan de- hrat'' (Ethics 1. def. 3) Here is the thing-in-itself, the suljstance which exists in itself, and which to l)e known must be conceived as indepen- dent of relations. Of this Absolute Spinoza maintains that w^e know l)ut two determinations, i. e. that of the inner and that of the outer world, cogltatlo and extensio. Schopen- hauer likewise teaches that the world as known by us has two sides; the outer world of space and the inner world which is primarily will. At this point we see a difference between the two thinkers, for while Spinoza considers the all important factor of the inner life to l)e the intellect, Schopenhauer asserts the primacy of the will. Schopen- hauer may seem to differ from Spinoza in another important particular; for while the latter declares that God has innumerable attributes, tlms no one being applica])le to his existence, the former would assert that the thing-in-itself is capalde of a definite determination, i. e. it is will. Here, however, the difference is not so great as might appear at first glance. We have already seen that Schopenhauer, according to one point of view at least, admits that we do not know the thing-in-itself as it really is. '^The in-itself of the world, which w^e think according to the clearest of its expressions under the concept of will,'' is yet as a finality removed from all determinations whatsoever. Spinoza, likewise, while seeming to teach the unknowableness of God as an absolute l)eing, plainly gives to his ultimate a character borrow^ed from the inner life, in as much as the / ^ 38 world-ground is related to individual existences not causally but logically. For Schopenhauer the world is a process of will, for Spinoza a process of thought, a mathematical rather than a dynamical necessity. It follows from the eternal neces- sity of God's nature as the angles of a triangle result from the nature of triangle itself. ''E,r mcc^sltair dicniae ndtarae hijhilta ijijinlt^'s modis [hoc f.s7, omnia qnnc suh Inttllectirm Injin'dain eadere p(>><^unt) xkjuI dihcDt/' (Ethics, I, prop. 16). From this point on the resemblance between the thought of the two philosophers is most marked. ^\q iind Spinoza setting forth an exact parallel between the attril)utes of thouirht and extension. For everv mode in the inner world there is a corres})onding mode in the world of si)ace. '' Ordo d connexlo Ideanun idvin cd^ ac ordo tt convcvui rerumy (^Ethics II; pr()[) 7. ) Further, Spinoza like Schopen- hauer conceives the determinations of these two attril)utes iyModi) under three phases. For every act of the body there is a corres[)()ndence in the inner series; again the body as a whole has a corresponding idea connected with it, and lastly there are certain modes which" do not belonix to the individual as such, but to the individual onlv in so far as he is universal. Spinoza w-ould teach, that the universal nature of the individual is his only true and ade([uate nature, just as Schopenhauer holds that it is only the Platonic ideas which may really be said to exist. Thus we tind botli Spinoza and Schopenhauer denying ])ersonal immortality.'' ''It is the race,'' says the latter, "which lives at all times.'' The former teaches that between the human Ixxlv and its idea there is a complete correspondence; and hence with the death of the body the idea of the same })asses away. Correspond- ing to these three distinct grades of the determination of the Spinozistic attril)utes are three grades of knowledge. First, * Here they are in close agreement with Arietotle. I ; ♦ ^ » f • 39 that knowledo^e which arises from the bodily affectations; sec- ond, the knowledge of reason, and third, intuitive knowledge. Schopenhauer here fully agrees wdtli his predecessor. Knowledge first arises as a slave to the will, reflective know- ledo^e is freed momentarily from its thraldom, w^hile intuitive insight leaves behind the entire world of sense and finds com- plete freedom in the contemplation of the Platonic idea. We cannot fail to notice that the theory of coofnition here involved differs essentially from the epistemology expounded in the Critique of Pure Reason. This difference will asrain be pointed out Avhere its importance and bearing in Schopen- hauer's philosophy will be more apparent. When it is asked what is for Spinoza the ground of the parallelism between the attribute of extension and the at- tribute of thouijht the answer is not difficult. God is the bond of the union, and in him all differences find a recon- ciliation. He is the one and the all, and all modes, finite or infinite, owe their existence to him. He is caum adoc- (juatir of the Avorld. Likewise Schopenhauer declares that the harmony and connection which all parts of the universe manifest should not excite w^onder for "it is, indeed, one and the same will w^hich objectifies itself throughout the entire world." But here it is to be remem1)ered that the w^ill which Schopenhauer is speaking of is the thing-in-itself , the ultimate, which like Spinoza he is obliged to regard as the source of individual appearance. When, however, he is discussing the parallelism which exists between the will and the world he is employing the term in its secondary sense. This will is not unitary ])ut appears in manifold in- dividual manifestations, in the Platonic ideas, the individ- ual characteristics of human beings, and in the particular * It is to be remarked that this notion of causality is rather logi- cal than dynamic. V i I i 40 41 phenomena of the world of space. The parallelism which exists between the outer and inner sides of these various manifestations disp3as3s for tho moment with the causal idea. The doctrins of parallelism, however, docs not tind itself able to entirely remove this notion. It places its sphere of action one step farther back, but finds itself com- pelled to assume its ultimate validity. The crucial point in Spinoza\s philosophy appears when the question is asked: How is it that the absolute sub- stance beyond all determination and free from all change and divisibility in itself bacomes pheuomenized and limi- ted? An attempt to picture this process involves a dualis- tic conception of the universe. The world falls apart into natura naturam and natuni naturata^ notwithstanding the philosopher's express denial of such a division. This es- sential dualism shows itself with great clearness in Spino- za's Ethics. Here we lind man the partaker of the ntiture of both these realms; in essence free, yet under the s\v;iy of affections and passions. Not only is the world of freedom a cause, but the realm of nature likewise exercises a causal influence. It is the principle of darkness in the universe, the source of evil and illusion. Schopenhauer, proceeding from conceptions similar to those of Spinoza, is met at this point by a similar difficulty. The problem is for liini to explain how the will as thing- in-itself becomes a diversity in the world of space and time. To solve this problem Scho- penhauer employs the conception of " Objectivation," ^^ 1 understand," he writes (11-277) ''by objectivation self-ex- hibition (das SichdarsteUen) in the actual material world.'' Objectivation of the will is to be viewed as the manifesta- tion to consciousness of the inner being of the world. The objectified will is the same as the phenomenized will. ''The •♦' A ■s % ^ i t K • entire body is nothing else than the objectified will, that is, will become idea." So we tind Schopenhauer speaking of the will as entering into time, as manifesting itself in space and as appearing under the conduct of the causal law. Here then is set over against the will as thing-in -itself a secondary reality, namely the a priori forms of thought. These forms are however, dependent on the intellect, and thus the world would seem at this point to divide itself into will and intellect. Schopenhauer would attempt to ex- plain away this dualism l)y his doctrine of the primacy of the will. The intellect we are told, is created 1)y the will for its individual purposes, since the will is confronted by hostile conditions, and in order to pursue its way in secur- ity, is coin})elle(l to prepare a light to illuminate its path. Such a c()ncei)tion, lunvever, in attem})ting to do away with dualism, substitutes pluralism. In the place of one will there are innunicrable, hostile forces tiahtiniJiin.)\ " We have here '' says Lehmann,:}: " without doubt the very ],)oint before us, at which the system of Scliopenliauer joins itself actually with the Kantian phil()so})hv, but what Kant with foresight })()s- tulated that Schoi)enhauer dogmatically asserted." This ob- servation must be taken as su})stantially correct; especially important is the latter part of the statement. Ktmt's doc- trine is for him only a postulate, an assum})ti()n which helps to explain certain diiiiculties, but hardly a fundamental principle of the Critical Philosophy. Scliopenhauer, liow- ever, in appropriating it, develops and enlarges the con- ception, at the same time employing it as one of the most essential elements of his metipliysics. This a brief exp;)si- * Here again is to he notced the materialistic side of vSehopenhaaer's doctrine. The intellect is not only secondary to the will, but is further simply a development of matter. t Grand Prob. der Ethik, p. 176, Brockhaus edition. X Rudolf Lehmanu. "vScbopenhauer, eiu Beitra;^ zur Psychologie der Metaphysik" \ i \ i tion of the doctrine, as treated by Kant and by Schopen- hauer, will show. Kant, like Spinoza, conceives man as belonging to two worlds, the world of necessity and the world of freedom. In the former he is a self-determining being, in the latter com- pletely subjected to the laws of mechanical necessity. In discussing: the possibilitv of such freedom in harmonv with the universal laws of natural necessity, Kant says: ^ "I term that element in a sensuous object, which is not itself pheno- mena, intelligible. If, accordingly, an object which must be regarvled in the world of sense as phenomenon possesses a faculty which is not an object of sensuous intuition, but by means of which it is capable of being the cause of phenomena, the causality of an object or existence of this kind mav be treatoi from two ditferent points of view, namely, as intellig^i- ble according to its action as thing -in-itself; and sensuous as regards its effects, as a phenomenon })elonging to the sen- suous world.'' In other words Kant sees in everv ssnsuous object, as before pointed out, an evidence of the thinir-in- itself. He recognizes here an element which cannot be attributed to the world of phenomena, since it is utterly inex})licable from a priori rules. To this thing-in-itself may be attrii)uted, '' besides to the property of self-phenomeniz- ation, a ciiusality whose effects are to be met with in the phenomenal world, although it is not itself a phenomenon.'' Beside beinsf a manifestation of this transcendental cause the object of the senses is construable under certain a priori forms, and as such possesstf^ an empirical character which guarantees "that its actions as phenomena stand throughout in connection, accordino^ to unvarvin<]: natural laws, with all other phenomena. " "'" '"' "^^ '' According to its empirical character, this subject as })henomenon would be subordinate * Critique of Pure Reason, p. 423, Rosenkranz Edition. ^ 44 to all empirical laws of causality, and would be so far noth- ing- more than a phenomenon and member of the sensuous world, whose effects like all other phenomena continually arises' from natural causes. -^ ^ * According to its intelligible character, on the other hand, '• '" " the subject must be regarded as free from all sensuous influences and from all phenomenal determinations. '''• There can be no doubt that Kant is here dealing with the two separate notioji^ of causality which have been previously discussed, and that his distinction between empirical and intelligible character is exactly the same as that between temporal and n()n-temi)oral causality. The purpose of this distinction is for Kant primarily to point out a possible way in which the third antinomy with its demand for both a tinal and a temporal cause may be satisfied, and not to maintain absolutely that such a transcendent cause exists, though his ethical theory linds its chief support from this sup})osition. We must assume that man U free, says Kant, in order to obtain a meaning f)!- the cate^rorical imperative; but this freedom is reached by the practical rather than by the theoretical reason. Thus Kant would escape, when strictly interpreted, from assert- incr, at least doi^maticallv, the existence of transcendental freedom, and thus he would seek to save himself from falling into complete contradiction with his epistemology. Schopenhauer, however, makes no such reservation. lie not only accepts Kant's doctrine as a working hypothesis, but raises it to an absolute metaphysical principle by the aid of which he seeks to set forth the connection between the thing-in-itself and phenomena. His method of proced ure is most clearly illustrated in his discussion concernin the will of man. The individual will as seen in its phenom- enal manifestations is capable of analysis into two ele- ♦ Ibid, p. 423, 244. (Y to I ♦ > I 45 ments. One of these Schopenhauer styles with Kant the intelligible and the other the empirical character. The in- telligible character finds its expression in a permanent di- rection of the will, while the empirical character mani- fests itself under the conduct of motives (a special form of the law of occasionalism. ) The intelligible character is to be treated as a non- temporal, therefore as ^'a non-divisible, unchangeable act of the will, whose phenomenon sundered and displayed in time and space and in all the forms of the law of sufficient reason is the empirical character '' (1-341. ) ''These acts of the will have always, hovrever, a ground outside of themselves in the motives. Yet these (motives ) never determine anythino: more than that which I will at this time, in this place and under these conditions; not, how- ever, that I will in general, nor what I will in general, i. e. the maxims which characterize my will as a totality ; hence mv will is not accordino^ to its entire nature to be explaiiied from motives ; but these determine simply its expression at a given point of time; the}^ are simply the occasion through which mv will manifests itself : this (will) itself, on the other hand, lies outside the province of motivation : its appearance alone is determined at every point of time neces- sarily through this (law of motivation) " [1-127] Thus tlie motive cannot be said to determine the act in itself, but only its direction. It changes the manner of the wilFs manifesta- tion, but never the will itself. Therefore virtue cannot be taught, and therefore the special manifestations of the will are of no significance. It is of like importance whether one plays for nuts or a crown, but that be plays— this is the noteworthy fact. The doctrine of the intelligible and the empirical character Schopenhauer applies not alone to the will of man, but he finds ^ i 46 it to be the fundamental characteristic of the thing-in- itself in all grades of its manifestation. Examples are to be found in all parts of nature. '^ When the clouds move across the sky the figures which they build are not essential to them, are for them of equal importance ; but that they as elastic vapour arc pressed together, driven about, extended and torn apart by the impact of the wind, this is their nature, (this) is the essence of the force which o])jectities itself in them, (this) is the idea : they are for the individual ol)server alone actual figures. For the brook which rolls onward over its })el)bles, the eddies, waves, the fragments of foam which are seen (on its surface) are of e(pial importance and unessential : that it obeys the law of gravity, preserves its nature as a non -elas- tic, mobile, formeless, transparent fiuid ; this is its essence." (1-214). Thus Schopenhauer developos and adds to the con- caption of the intelligible and empirical character as set forth by Kant. Depending as this notion does at its very incep- tion upon the fundamental distinction between temporal and non-temporal causality, it in no way avoids this distinction under Schopenhauer's treatment. Indeed, the exposition rather emphasizes than weakens it. The will always is rep- resented as the real cause of its phenomenal manifestations ; the 'motive, the excitation, the Dure mechanical action, as the necessitv of Nature, as the occasion of individual occur- rence. Most sie^nificant in this connection is the followinir : ^^It (the will) holds individuals fast fixed to this scene (of action) and it is \h^ jrrliniiiu mohlle of their activity, while the outer conditions, the motives, determine simply the direction of the same in particulars." (11-401)). Schopen- hauer doubtless saw the real nature of the assumption here involved, but attempts to save himself from inconsistency by limiting the application of the causal law to phenomena, » s f If > 47 as already pointed out, and thus by no means excluding the activity of transcendental causality. From another point of view it will be seen that Schopen- hauer's conception of the relation between the intelli^nble and empirical character involves the notion of temporal, occa- sional causality as well as that of transcendental causalitv. Scho])enhauer teaches that the intelligible character is iden- tical with the original act of the will which reveals itself in the empirical character. What, then, is the nature of this iict of the will ? In the inorganic world it api)ears as a l)ower of nature and this suggests the identification of the intelligible character with the conception of force in general. Schopenhauer, however, hastens to declare that such a notion is inadeipiate, since force is but a special form of the will and is (jualitas occulta. We find that the will, which as has already been shown, is at the outset as thing-in-itself purely a negative principle, obtains a positive determination by its identification with impulse [Trleh)^ desire {Drang)^ lontrino- {Sehnmcht).- The will manifests itself "as a tireless mechanism (Truilnt'erk)^ an unconscious impulse " (11-409). The notion of the will as universal desire is not in itself suf- ficient, however, to definitely characterize the thing-in-itself. Desire must be desire for something, otherwise the universe would remain in a purely static condition. In vain Schopen- hauer protests that the will in general has no aim. '^In fact there is an absence of everv aim, of all limits in the being of the will in itself, which is an endless striving " (I- 195). Notwithstanding this express statement to the con- trary, the will has the most distinct of aims, for it is the will to live.f Yet there is not one will to live but manv, *cf. I-140 t The importance of this principle will be more fully discussed when Schopenhauer's relation to Aristotle is considered. i 48 49 and hence arise the distinctions in the intelligible character of men and of the lower objectitications of the will. All seek for self-realization ; hence the strife and misery of the world , hence the ethical need of self-reniinciati ti'iiijyyris. Thus it is clear that the intelligible character as cause of the individual acts of the empirical character is at this point conceived as temporally determined. It must likewise be observed that the causal notion here involved contains in it a teleological element, since the will, though unconsciously according to Schopenhauer, moves toward an end. Hence bis treatment of the relation between the intelligil)le and empirical character must be viewed under two heads, first that of transcendent causality (already implicit in Kant's conception) and second that of immanent teleology which does not rise above the world of phenomena. The teleologi- cal notion, however, relates itself closely to the doctrine of ^ i I ^ t the Platonic iaea which forms a most essential part of Scho- penhauer's system. 8.] Although Schopenhauer's doctrine of the idea may be regarded as an attempt to furnish a mediating principle between the worlds of Being and of Becoming, it must be remembered that for Plato it was rather an epistemoiogical than a metaphysical need which prompted him to philosophize. Likewise Schopenhauer may be understood at this stage of his thouirht as seekinoj in the first instance for a knowledtre of reality rather than as attempting to construct a sure bridge between the world of ovala and the world of yeveo'i?. Both Plato and Schopenhauer are convinced of the unreality of the present life. Here all is relativity and true knowl- edf^e can never be attained; yet neither philosopher can be content with such a world. True knowledge must be sought in order that the practical demands may be satisfied. ' 'If the world was not something that, practically expressed, ought not to be, it would not be a theoretical problem," (11-664). Plato strives for a solid foundation for ethics, while Schopen- hauer recognizes the necessity of knowing reality in order to satisfy the religious aspirations. "Temples and churches, pagodas and mosques, in all lands, at all times, in splendor and grandeur, testify to the metaphysical need of humanity, " (H- 177). In attributing an eternal truth to the Platonic ideas, and in ascribing to man under the most favorable circum- stances an ability to apprehend this truth, Schopenhauer clearly abandons his contention that truth is such only in relation and asserts that the human mind can grasp the trans- cendent apart from its phenomenal character. We have already pointed out this change in Schopenhauer's theory of knowledge when discussing his relation to Spinoza; and here the full importance of the doctrine can be estimated, since \ < 50 without this revised epistemology Schopenhauer would have been unable to maintain his connection with Plato. To this intuitive knowledge of the non-sensuous the Scholastics and Mystics would have subscribed, and for this the much despised Hegel would have contended, ' ' The only content which can be held to be the truth," writes Hegel (Logic, §74), *^is one not mediated with something else, not limited by other things; or otherwise expressed it is one mediated by itself, where mediate and immediate reference to self coincide. ' ' ^ This absolute knowledge is what Plato evidently seeks in his attempt to ground ethics, and this is the knowl- edge which Schopenhauer must extol in so far as he follows the teachings of Plato. True, this intuitive knowledge has for Schopenhauer a certain relativity, since to know is to have an object of knowledge which requires as its antithesis a subject. Hence it is that he declares that the Platonic ideas do not reveal the thing-in -itself but only its ade(piate objection. Yet we are led to suppose that the Platonic ideas reveal the true nature of the phenomenal world, t and the distinction cannot be held to be of great importance. Over aorainst the knowledo^e of the eternal ideas is set that of the senses, which becomes confused and muddy througli entrance into a material medium. It is difficult here to believe that we are considering the doctrine of an avowed follower of Kant. This is rather the epistemology of Leib- niz than that of the author of the Critical Philosophy. The strong emphasis which Plato gives to the phenome- nal character of the world of sense, and the ecpially strong affirmation of this doctrine by Schopenhauer cause both * Translation by Wallace, Oxforo 1892. t This such passages as the following show: " Nicht die mir vorschwebende raumliche Gestalt, sondern der Aus- druck, die reine Bedeutung derselben, t'Ar innerstes Wesen, das sich mir aufschliesst, und mich anspricht ist eigentlich die Idee," (I-247). \ i ^ k A \ ^ / * • 51 philosophers to place a seemingly light value upon this realm; and thus their teaching is confronted with the dan- ger of a reduction to pure Eliatism ; yet while the world is declared to be an illusion and to have only a relative ex- istence, it must be remembered that this illusion and this relativity are such for thought. In no sense can an illusion be said to be non-existent, and the consistent philosopher, far from io-norinor it, is forced to recognize its presence and to attempt to relate it to the clearer but no more existent realm of truth. The importance of this fact should have especially appealed to Schopenhauer, who as a disciple of Kant rejoiced in the death blow given to the old time ontol- ogy'^ There are no grades of being, for " being is evi- dently not a real predicate, "f Phenomena cannot then be explained away but must be connected with noumena. But, as has already been said, Plato was not in the first instance concerned with this connection, while Schopenhauer's posi- tion in so far as he agrees with Plato, may be treated as epistemological rather than metaphysical. Yet out of Pla- to's epistemology a metaphysics arose, the outlines of which he himself indicated, and which was developed to a greater richness and fullness by Aristotle. Schopenhauer, too, finds a metaphysical side for the doctrine of the idea and enlarges it beyond the bounds of Plato's teaching. Hence it becomes necessary to consider more closely the Philoso- phy of Idealism as expounded by its founder and as inter- preted by Schopenhauer. . That Plato intended to give to his ideas something more than "VDaherTsTder Begriff der ''Vollkommenheit," wenn schlechthiu und in abstracto gebraucht, ein gedankenleeres Wort, und ebecso das Gerede vom ''Allervollkommensten Wesen" u. dgl. m. Das Alles 1st blosser Wortkram. [Kritik der Kantischen Philosophic; (1-503)-] t Compare Kant's discussion of the Ontological Argument, Critique of Pure Rea^>on, Trans. Dialectic, Book ii., Chapt in , § 4- i r 'i — .« 52 1^ a purely logical existence there can be no doubt. The idea must be understood as a reality whose being is in no way dependent on individual thought, though it is cast in thought forms in so far as these forms are universal. The idea is an abiding essence beyond space and time, on the one hand pointing to an al)solute above it, and on the other shadowing forth its being in the world of phenomena. In this respect Schopenhauer's doctrine is entirely in accord with that of Plato. The wall as adeipiately objectiticd knows no growth and no decay. Ideas are ^'the permanent, changeless forms independent of the temporal existence of individuals, sjjccies rerum, which properly constitute the purely objective in phe- nomena " (11-416). As has been pointed out, however, Scho- penhauer does not find in these ideas the thing-in-itself. They ' are the forms in which the final essence is revealed to knowl- edore ; yet they are of a permanent and abiding worth in them- selves. Plato's doctrine, at least in its final stage of develop- ment, must be interpreted as in agreement with that of Schopenhauer. The ideas, though eternal, are not a})solute; behind them is the deity with whom these ideas nuist enter into union. But how is such a union possi!)le; liow^ can God, whom Plato conceives as absolute reason, combine in himself ideas seemingly of the most heterogeneous and conflicting nature ? Plato's answer to this question, if definitely expressed, would be that the ideas are not ecpial in rank ; [ some are subordinated to others, and between the lowest and , the highest there is a series ever mounting toward the idea ' of the Good. Thus the connection and arrangement of the ideas involves unmistakably the notion of an end. The world of Being exhibits an eternal arrangement of ideas unified through a teleological ordering of the whole. Thus Plato would explain the relation of his ideal world to the I I ^ \ ! ^ i 53 Absolute, the World Reason. The problem still remains to connect this world with phenomena. This relation is far from clear, and only the general direction of the philosopher's thinkinor can be indicated. It is evident that since the ideas themselves are subjected to no change, they cannot be con- sidered as the cause of the world of sense in so far as it is conceived as pure becoming. A secondary principle must be introduced, and this we find in Plato's conception of em})ty space (yu// ov^). This is a sul)sidiary cause and may be viewed as matter which a world-forming God moulds according to the ideas. Here all ends in allegory and mysticism; no scientific conception is offered as to the rela- tion between phenomena and the Avorld of essences : yet the unmistakable character of this union so faintly shadowed forth is teleological. At first glance Schopenhauer w^ould seem to be debarred from placing a teleological principle in his universe, since he most explicitly declares that the intellect is secondary to tlie will and purely a product of the phenomenal world. The discussion of this question belongs more properly to the consideration of Schoi)enhauer's system in so far as it accords with Aristotle's philosophy: here it is sufficient to point out that Schopenhauer pictured the ideas as arranged according- to a hierarchy: and that since he declares that be- tween them there exists no temporal relation, the determin- ing factor in this arrangement must be sought as a logical and teleological one in which exists a gradation according to some end. " Every general, original power of nature," says Schopenhauer, ' ' is in its innermost being nothing else than the o])jectivation of the will at a low grade; we call such a irrade an eternal idea in Plato's sense." (1-159.) '^At the higher grades of the objcctivation of the will we see ( 54 individuality significantly make its appearance." (1-155) What Schopenhauer considers as the determining factor in the arrangement of the ideas will later be more fully dis- cussed. For the moment it suffices to remark that a distinct teleological notion is involved in the connection of these ideas with the absolute princii)le under which they fall. Concerning the nature of the relation between the ideas and the phenomenal world Schopenhauer is much more explicit than Plato. In so far as the ideas are identified with the intelligible character the relation has already been consid- ered. Schopenhauer, like Plato, is obliged to conceive the subsidiary, yet independent existence of a secondary cause, which serves as the medium for the partial reabzation of the ideas as well as furnishing the reason of their inade- quate expression in the world of sense. Schopenhauer also asserts with Plato that the world is a faint copy of the ideas. ^ a understand," he says (1-151:) ''by idea every definite and changeless grade of the objectivation of the will, in so far as it is thing-in-itself, and hence removed from nudti- plicity; these grades relate themselves to the individual things altogether as their eternal forms or patterns (Muster- bilder)" This is, however, simply the statement of the problem, not its answ^er. The (juestion is, what is the irround of the resemblance between the ideas and the changing forms of the phenomenal world? Plato, we have seen, of- fers no real solution. It remained for his follower, Aris- totle, to carry on and com})lete the work begun; hence ])e- fore considering Schopenhauer's attempt at solving the prob- lem, it becomes necessary to review in outline the system of the great Stagirite which although it posesses no historical connection with Schopenhauer's philosoi)hy, yet exhi])its an important pragmatic relation to it. f i P 55 9. ] The solution which Aristotle gives to the problein raised by Plato's philosophy (i. e., the relation between the ideas and the phenomenal world) may be stated as follows: He removes from the idea its quality of transcendence and sets forth a metaphysics of immanence. The ideas exist, but not apart from this world; they are the essences which re- alize themselves in matter. But this realization is in time, since its form is that of development. Hence the ideas lose much of their noumenal reality and take upon themselves the qualities of the world of sense. As the organ develops to its perfection, so the kernel in the unformed matter seeks more and more to realize itself. Not only does a unitary plan manifest its workinirs in the (jrow^th of individual things, but also Nature as a whole must be viewed as a realm of connected and ordered parts whose forms rise even higher and higher toward the deity, the transcendent prm- cij^le in Aristotle's universe. The deity itself is the pure form which does not enter into matter, while all other forms find their ex})ression alone in the physical w^orld. Hence there are two w^orld principles for Aristotle: one that of the inunanent forms w^hich continually seek to come to expression, the other that of the transcendent cause, actus puru^, the immoved mover who draws all to himself. Thus the universe must be viewed as the result of two causes, that of tenq^oral and of transcendental teleology. Later the transcendental notion of teleolof^v will be found to assume the greater importance for us, where it forms the basis for the most consistent ex))ression of Schopenhauer's doctrine, namely in his philosophy of ethics and religion. Turninof our attention for the moment to the immanent side of Aristotle's system, we find that apparently it con- flicts with the most fundamental principles of Schopenhauer's I ^ I 56 V '4 67 teachings. Nowhere are we brought more clearly to recog- nize the insuperable obstacles which Schopenhauer attempts to overcome than at this stage of his thought; hence we shall not be surprised to find that the fourtli book of the '' Workl as Will and Idea" in a measure frees itself from the presup- positions of its earlier cha})ters, while pointing to the only conclusion in regard to the solution of the relation between the world and its absolute principle which it was {)()ssible from the outset to reach, — namely that a detinite knowledge of such a relation is impossible, since the thing-in-itself is purely a negative and limitative concept. The ))()ints at which Schopenhauer's philosophy seems most evidently to conflict with Aristotle's system may be thus summarized : I. Schopenhauer ascribes to the ideas an existence above the world of sense, while Aristotle denies their reality apart from phenomena. II. Schopenhauer declares that the ideas require a special faculty for their apprehension, while Aristotle sees the only sphere of their exhibition in the visible and tangi- ble universe. III. Schopenhauer regards the process of history as unmeaning, while for Aristotle time in essential, since the pure forms reach adequate expression by development. IV. Schopenhauer asserts that the intellect is only of a secondary and relative importance, while the logical and teleological elements in Aristotle's philosophy are primary. Schopenhauer, however, by no means holds to these prin- ciples, and in his development of the doctrine of the ideas he assumes a position intimately related to the Philosophy of Immanence. ''I say, therefore,'' writes Schopenhauer (Kritik der Kantischen Philosophic, 1-507) ''that the solu- tion of the riddle of the world must proceed from an under- ^ / ^ < I % J S I > 4 standing of the world itself; that therefore the problem of metaphysics is not to soar above experience in which the world stands forth, but to understand it completely, shiee experience, outer and inner, i^certahdy tlte principal source of all knowJcdgey Likewise (11-203): "It (metaphysics) remains immanent and does not become transcendent." Again (11-730): " my philosophy ''■ - - - does not attempt '•• " '" to explain the being of the world according to its final principle; it rather stops at the facts of outer and inner experience, as they are accessable to every one, and shows the true and deep connection of the same, yet without indeed going out to any supermundane objects and their relation to the world. It affords no conclusion, therefore, to that existing beyond all i)ossible experience, but offers simply the exposition of the given in the outer world and in self- consciousness, contents itself, therefore, with grasping the being of the world according to the inner connection with itself. It is consequently immanent in the Kantian sense of the word." Thus Schopenhauer's philosophy fails to reach the transcendent. At this point it may further be observed that the will (the so-called thing-in-itself) has only a phe- nomenal existence. This a ])rief consideration of Schopen- hauer's own statements will show. The will, as has been seen, is the will-to-live. "So it is the same thing and only a })leonism, if instead of saying simply » the will ' we say ' the will-to-live' " (1-424) In other words wall and life are so intimatelv bound too:ether that where there is no life there is iikew^ise no will. On the other hand, this phe- nomenal existence "as inseparably accompanies the will as the shadow accompanies its body, and if there is will there wdll also be life, (there will also ])e) the world" (1-324.) Further, it appears in Schopenhauer's 5 i i \ >< 58 59 ethical and religious doctrines, that with the denial of the will-to-live not only life ceases but also the will itself, for the two must stand and fall together, '^ No will : no idea, no world." Thus the will and its adeciuate object- tivation, the Platonic ideas, can no longer be regarded as transcendent, but bound to space and time and cxistentent alone in the phenomenal world. This clearly is the Aristotelian development of the philosoi)hy of idealism. Since the will and the ideas are no longer to be regarded as siii)ernum(hine entities it naturally follows that they ex[)ress themselves in the world and do not require a special faculty of intuition for their apprehensicvn. Scliopcnhauer can no longer con- tend that ''the will is toUxjinevr different from idea'' (phe- nomenal world.) Rather the entire world of sense is '- only the objectivation, the mirror oi the will(^l-315), and ''to the nature of the will its phenomena nuist exactly correspond'' (11-679.) Hence the study of i)hen()mena nuist reveal the true nature of their essence. For example: ^'In order com- pletely to grasp the ideas which manifest themselves in wa- ter, it is not sufficient to see it in the still pool, or the even flowinty stream; but those ideas comi)letelv reveal them- selves first, when the water appears under all i)ossible con- ditions and obstructions, which acting upon it cause it to fully express all its characteristics" (1-29 T). Since the ideas are bound up so closely with phenomena the time fac- tor can not be regarded as unimportant, and the entire world process must be taken into consideration. "The idea of mankind, if it was to appear in its ai)propriate sig- nificance, might not present itself alone and unconnected, but had to be attended downwards stej) by stej) through all the forms of the animal world, through the kingdom of plants to that of inorganic life; they all act supplementary 4 S i S I to each other for the complete objectivaiion of the will: the idea of humanity as necessarily presupposes them, as the blossoms of the tree presuppose the leaves, the branch, the trunk and the root: they form a pyramid whose summit is man." (1-182). This intimate connection between all parts of the world makes history of the highest importance. It is no lono:er a mere dream and delusion. " What reason is to the individual that is historvto the human race '* (11-508. ) Yet more important is the consideration that the whole world, l)ound inseparably as it is with the temporal notion, is the scene of the denial of the w-ill, an historical event of transcendent significance. Thus the will appears as limited in time and its extinction becomes the goal of practical en- deavor. Schopenhauer, thus completely in accord with Aristotle in placing the Platonic ideas under temporal conditions, like- wise agrees with him in his conception of the teleological character of the relation between phenomena and the ideas which manifest themselves therein, although such an agree- ment may seem to come into the sharpest conflict witli Schopenhauer's contention that we are prohibited from ap- plying the notion of an end to nature as a whole which is the jjri us of all intellectuality. " We are in no way justi- fied to apply our limitations to Nature which is itself a ^^/vVx of all intellect, and whose workings are from ours "" '' totally different. She brings into existence the api)arently purposive and planned without thought and without the no- tion of an end, because without an idea the origin of which is completely secondary" (11-373) In vain w^ould Schopen- hauer contend that the teleological notion is purely heuristic in its character; that it is an idea which the intellect reads into the world. " The purposiveness of the organism exist \ I 60 simply for the reason which recognizes it." (TI-373) Not- withstanding this explicit denial of a more than su))ject- ive validity to the teleological notion, Schopenhauer clearly pictures the world objectively considered under thought determinations, since he, as already said, arranges the Platonic ideas, the adequate objectivation of the thing- in-itself, according to a teleological principle. Further, the will shows a tendency to realize itself in a workl of j)henom- ena and creates the individual intellect that it may Ik iter succeed^ although we are told that it is a com[)letely blind principle without aim. By this we are doubtless to under- stand that the will has no rational end; one that could be justified by the highest wisdom and widest exj)ericncc. It certainly has the most definite of aims, that of living and of living, too, in a certain definite and determined manner. Schopenhauer must be understood as admitting the validity of the teleological notion in the realm of nature. Lucretius, Bacon and Spinoza have denied it, but wrongly and l)ecause they considered it inseparable from speculative theology. '* Spinoza did not know how to help himself in any other manner, than through the desperate expedient of denying teleology itself, therefore purposiveness in the works of na- ture, a contention whose monstrosity is apparent to every- one who has obtained an exact knowled^^e of orii:anic nature. * * ^ In comparison with these philosoi)hers of Modern Times Aristotle appears to a great advantage who just at this point shows himself in a most favorable light." (11-388). Thus Schopenhauer agrees with Aris- totle's principle of immanent teleology, finding indis- putable evidence of its domain just where the great teacher of Antiquity discovered it, namely in the organic world. Schopenhauer pictures the whole physical universe under i ♦ ♦ s \ > 61 the symbol of organic life. It is the unfolding of the will- to-live and agrees in its various parts. Yet the teleology which ^t bears evidence of is conceived as possible without intelligence. Though "in fact we cannot clearly think of a final cause [Endursachc) otherwise than as an end corteni- plated, that is as a motive;" yet 'nf vvc closely ol)serve the final causes in nature, we must, in order to express their transcendent beinir, not fear a contradiction, and 1x)ldlv state: fnal caune is a utotlve trlilcli v:ovhs upon a h'-iVKi^ hnt Is not recognized Ijy //." (11-378) The will is related to the world through the principle of unconscious theolog}'. This principle, moreover, as with Aristotle, centres in tlie ideas which seek self-realization {.^uu/n esse conservarc). "The idea, or the species is that wherein the will to live as a matter of fact roots itself and manifests itself" ^11-552 i. Thus the will-to-live becomes the end as it is the cause and essential exj)ression {i.iopcpij) of l)eing. But how far this will is removed from the thino^-in-itself which knows no re- lation and is completely sundered from the phenomenal world! As already pointed out, this will of vrhich Scho- penhauer is here speaking realizes itself alone in the world of sense and must rise and decay with phenomena. A comparison of the manner in which Aristotle and Scho- penhauer developed the notion of temporal teleology in the physical universe is not without interest. Schopenhauer finds three principal grades of the ol^jectivation of the will, ramely in the inorganic realm of mechanical necessity: in the realm of vegetable life, where mechanical neces- sity is replaced by the law of irritability in the growth and development of the plant, and finally in the realm of sentient life, where the will appears under the guidance of motives. Similarly Aristotle distinguishes ♦ s I i 62 I » i 63 between the mechanical causation of inorganic nature and the causation which first displays itself in organic life, namely in the plant world, in the animal king- dom, and finally in the life of human beings. The lower forms with him as with Schopenhauer are necessary for the existence and activities of the higher. This interesting gra- dation of inorganic and living matter according to the ideas which seek to express themselves finds also its parallel in the natural philosophy of Schelling. ^ i '/ s I ♦ » CHAPTER IV. THE TKI.EOI.OCICAL PHASE OF SCHOFEMIAUER S DOCTRINE. 10. T HE relation of teleoloaieal imiiianenee niav be considered as the final form iiiuler v liich 8chc)i)enhaiier attempts to conceive tlie con- nection l)etween the will and the world. We have seen that his previous notions of this connection ha^'e not led to a satisfactory solution of the problem which he essays to solve. Schopenhauer, in so far as he succeeds in joining noumena with phenomena, proceeding from his conception of parallelism between the inner and the outer series, makes use of the causal law, which he likewise em- ploys in his doctrine of empirical and intelligible character. Yet in these tAvo instances we have found him dealing with a i)henomenal rather than a noumenal will. The same is also true, when by the aid of the teleological concept, he becomes the expounder of the philosophy of immanence. In fact Schopenhauer, following Kant, has in no way suc- ceeded in reaching a transcendent principle, a positive thing-in-itself. The will under all points of view appears w^hen carefully examined as a multiplicity, subjected to space, time and causality. When it is spoken of as the final reality of the universe it is another principle and not the wdi which is leally referred to. This other principle raises itself above the will and opposes itself to it. ' ' In truth what gives to our life its strange and ambiguous char- acter is the fact that in it kvo diametrically opposed aims continually conflict with each other, that of the individual will directed toward chimerical fortune in an ephemeral, i i 64 65 dreamlike, deceptive being, where in reference to what has past fortune and miKsfortune are of equal importance, where the present, however, at every moment l)ecomes the past; and that of Fate^ evidently directed toward the destroying of our fortune and therebv toward the mortification of our will and the removal of the delusion which holds us chained in the bonds of this world." (11-735.) The })rescnce of this second and tinal princii)le is likewise recognized by Schopenhauer in the fact that the identity of all liuman l)e- ings is conceived as depending on the denial of the will and not on its afhrmation. It is only when the will is destroyed that the cause of diversity in the world disa})pears. ''This identity is, however, present only in the condition of the devial of the will (Nirvana) since its atlirmation (Sansara) has for its form the phenomena of the same in their mul- tiplicity" (11-700.) It is this second principle whicli determines the arrange- ment of Schopenhauer's world of ideas and which becomes their aim and goal. Under this higher reality the world is conceived as^ progressing toward man and intellectual exis- tence, just as with Aristotle. The ideas which find their expression in the world are not nmtually independent but arranged according to a system of transcendental valuation whose goal is not in this world. The will on the other hand is reduced to the position of demiurge, the creator of the present world. It, therefore, becomes the source of illusion and not the intellect, which intuitivelv recoirnizes the error of earthly existence and destroys the will wh.ch gave it birth. The purely secondary character of the will can no longer be doubted. '' Behind our being ^h^^:Q \^ soinetldng {Etwas) different," so different indeed that it is possible that our nature from its very foundation may become something t I I I else and a '^ transcendental change " take plact^. This tran- scendental chancre is the end of existence and toward this all nature moves through its countless gradations, from the senseless forms of matter to the religious genius who reads the meaning of life and comprehends its delusion. It now becomes plain why it is that Schopenhauer pictures the ideas as arranged in an ascending scale whose end is knowledge ; for the will ''can be removed through nothing else, than through knowledge. Therefore the only way to salvation is this, that the will should appear unopposed, in order that in this appearance it may recognize its own being. Only in consequence of this knowledge can the will remove itself, and therewith likewise end the suffering which is inseparable from its appearance : this is not, however, possible through (the use of) physical force, as through destruction of the germ, or the killing of the new-born, or suicide. Nature leads the will to the light, because it can find its deliverance alone in the light " (1-474). Thus the relation of the world to this superior principle becomes beyond a doubt a pur- posive one, but what this ultimate is Schopenhauer does not attempt te definitely set forth. "What remains after the complete removal of the will is for those who are yet full of will, indeed, nothing. However, on the other hand, for those in whom the will has transformed and denied itself is this our so real world with all its suns and milky ways — nothing " (1-487). As long as we are the will to live, that which is beyond the will is for us nothing and from this it follows, since knowledge arises alone with the will, that the ultimate principle of the universe is unknowable. Here Schopenhauer is once more true to his Kantian epistem- ology. After finding the will to be a purely immanent principle in his doctrine of the ideas as revealing and express^ ? s ^ ( 66 incy themselves in the world of sense, Schopenhauer discovers that it is impossible longer to consider such a phenomenized and relative principle as the true thing-in-ilself. The real behind all change and beyond the possibility of phenomeni- zation is the purely limitative and negative concei)t under which Kant conceives the thing-in-itself. Yet for the mind to set up limits means that in a certain sense these limits must be transcended, and so in Scho})enhauer's treatment of the phenomenal world in relation to this newly promulgated thing-in-itself, an idea of this absolute must be shadowed forth, even though most vaguely. This turn in Schopen- hauer's thought leads us directly to his religious mysticism and his connection with the philosophy of Fichte. 11.] Schopenhauer's avowed contemi)t for the idealism of successors of Kant did not entirely free him from the spirit of his times, and we find here and there i)assages by no means repugnant to the doctrine of Hegel; while in his teaching concernino- the irrational element at the l)asis of the world and in his treatment of natural philosophy there is much which reminds one of the poetic and extravagant ex- position of Schelling; but of the three great apostles of the Idealistic School, his relation to its founder is the most im- portant for the pur[)oses of this discussion. Clearly the point at which Schopenhauer enters into the closest connec- tion with Fichte is in his construction of metaphysics from an ethical and religious basis with the necessary theological presuppositions as to the relation of the world to its ultimate principle. This i)rinciple is for Fichte the Universal Ego, for Schopenhauer at tirst the will, l)ut later an unknown and unknowable " Etivas.'' Fichte conceives philosophy as founded on morals, and the order of the universe is an ethi- cal order continually expressing itself with greater perfec- ♦ \ I 67 tion. Thus far Fichte's philosophy is purely immanent and unreservedly optimistic in marked contrast to Schopenhauer's system which finds the world the worst possible, so full of pain and evil that were it but a little worse it could not exist. Yet even for Schopenhauer the world offers an oppor- tunity for the exercise of morality, since all beings are called upon to minimize the suffering around them by the limitation of their own personal wills, the source of all evil. When Fichte \s philosophy bee )mes transcendant and assumes a distinctively religious character it enters into a much closer accord with Schopenhauer's system. Here there is no great difference between the ''Incomprehensible One " of Fichte and the Etwm of Schopenhauer. They approach very near to the Kantian thing-in-itself and are negative concepts. The absolute Ego is inexplicable and incomprehensible to finite minds. In itself it is neither subject nor object ; it tirst l)ecomes known ])y its separation into these antithetical elements. In essence it is the pure, white light which is never known in its purity. Schopenhauer at this point must he interpreted as in intimate agreement with Fichte. The will like the Ei^o is in the first instance a psvcholooficallv known fact. It is employed to denominate the thing-in- itself, yet the a!)solute as such reseml)les in name alone its alleged counterpart. The will like the Ego belongs entirely to the phenomenal world ; as without the NonEjro the E^o cannot be conceived, so without the world the will falls away. The ultimate behind the manifold is an enigma, since it is irrational in so far as with the renunciation of the will, the intellect, which has fulfilled the j)urpose for which it was created, is removed. Subject and object fade away in the eternal nio^ht which broods over all. For Fichte, however, the absolute Ego cannot be regarded t i (T8 without certain determinations, in as much as its relation to the world must be conceived as the foundation of moralit}'. It cannot be explained, perhaps, why the eternal being divides itself into subject and object since its freedom is be- yond comprehension, yet it must stand in a teleological re- lation to its phenomena and cannot be regarded in itself as irrational. Further, it becomes the end of religious striv- ing, and though it approximates to a nothing for knowledge, for faith it may become everything, as the history of nega- tive theology from Philo to the present day shows. "Man," Fichte tells us, "must do away with himself as the great negation and then he passes into God. ' ' This is the goal of life and this is the final mystitication of Fichte' s system. How near this teaching is to the ultimate philosophy of Schopenhauer, as expressed in the closing chapters of the World as Will and Idea, a rapid survey will show. Scho- penhauer's negative must not be conceived as a nothing. " If something is nothing among all that which we know, so is it, indeed, for us completely nothing. Yet it does not follow from this that it is absolutely nothino', that it also viewed from every possible standpoint and in every possible sense must b e nothing, but only that we are limited to a purely negative knowledge of the same, which very well can arise from the limitations of our standpoint" (11-703.) This relative nothing has a decided moral relation to the world. Life is a punishment and an atonement for the origi- nal sin implicit in all living. " Man's greatest crime is that he was born." This existence then is not simply a mistake, not simply something that brings more sorrow than hapi)i- ness, not simply the epitome of pain ; it is morally wrong, and therefore must be conceived in opposition to a higher principle which rules the universe, demanding a strict account I t m ■> r 69 for the sin of humanitv. " The world is exactlv what it is, because the will, whose appearance it is, is such, because it so wills. The justification for the suffering is that the will affirms itself in this appearance and this affirmation is justified and atoned for through the fact that it bears the sufiering. Here is revealed to us a glimpse of eternal jus- tice.^'' (1-390.) This higher principle is not conceived alone under moral attributes. The world while ethically wrong, is yet the scene for the working out of salvation. Man is the crown of creation because in him is the possibil- ity of escaping from temporal existence. Here is the dis- tinctive religious side to Schopenhauer's doctrine and here he is in accord with Fichte and Neo-Platonic mvsticisni. " Should yet a positive knowledge be insisted upon concern- ing that which philosophy can exy^ress only negatively as denial of the will, then there is nothing left but to point out that condition which those have reached who have experi- enced a complete denial of the will, and which is indicated by the name ecstacy, rapture [Entruckung^) illumination, union with God, etc. ; which condition, however, is not really to Ije called knowledge, because it has no longer the form of subject and object, and because further it is accessi- ble only to individual experience and cannot be communi- cated to others." (1-485.) "Life presents itself as a pro- cess of purification whose cleansing lye is pain. If the process is completed, it leaves its previous immorality and wickedness as a shell behind and then comes that condition of which the Veda says : findltur nodus cordis, dissfdvim- tur omnesdidjitationes, ejusque opera evaneseunt.'^ (II 735. ) Thus Schopenhauer's philosophy passes over into religious mysticism. The final principle of the universe is no longer a matter of knowledge. Its essence and its relation to the * - " l— W ^^B*- 70 world are discernable to the eye of faith alone. Yet this much is certaiiL The aim of all things animate and inani- mate is reabsorjion into the infinite from which it has pro- ceeded. Schopenhauer agrees most fully with Meister Eckhard and the mystics of the Christian faith, hut especially he is in accord with the religious teachings of the Orient, whose theme is the nothingness of life, whose goal is Nir- vana. " The dew is on tho lotus : rise Great Sun ! *' And lift my leaf and mix me with the wave, '' Om mani padmc hum, the sunrise comes! ^' The dewdrop slips into the shining sea.''* 12.] In order to understand the worth and silnl()S()pliy on the Kantian epistemology. The negative importance of this part of Sch()i)enliauer\s philosophy is notewortliy in con- nection with Kant's teaching, since the founder of the ( j-itical Philosophy did not journey beyond the island of experience. Schopenhauer, however, ventures out on the ^'wie extracted from a doctrine which is otherwise not even ci n- sistentlv inconsistent Such an interpretation of tlie ]ibil- o-ophv l)ef()re us is })y no means forced or far fetclied. hut is in the closest accord with the evident meaning of Scho})en- hauer himself. As Kuno Fischer has clearly ])ointed (uit. it was no mere whim which induced the })hiloso])her to in-tall the statue of Buddha in the |)lace of honor in his household, and wdiich |n'oni])ted him to salute the iMdefaligahlo Fraueii- stadt as - l^r::- Ernnq.lint^^ and his con verts as '• Apostles. Schopenhauer was deeply in earnest. lie repirde^d liiniself as the prtanulgator of a new inoralh}- mij»! a> tiie heralder ot a new sahation. f < •■■» Scti()[)enhau('r must be credited with a keen insight into the essence of ethics and religion. Two of his i> to a most ini|)oida!!t trutii, a truth wliich the optimism of \n^ time \va< in 'lann-i^r of tnrircUing. Salvation comes alone with the di\atli of ths' evil will, \vlio'<(^ destruction all religicsn mu^t seek. Only in the liiial illu- mination of the traji-cendenl worM is re.-l reaelied. and tlu.' door of eternal peace ()|>en(Ml. Urns Schopenhauer is in svmpatliy with the tea'/liiiii'- of the irreat AuLi-u-line, who likewise stronirlv assert.- the -pririiarv i'.f tlie will at the out- set, l)ut wdio ends in pla<'inii- tlie \-i-inn of (ind a^ \\ir tlnal aim of all stri\'inir. d'h*'re is ca.lin aftor the str.rni. So Augustine, like Schopc'ihaner, iind> the end of all (aaleavnr in Neo-Fla,tonic mysticism vdiose S|iifi! llimuLiii reiituiao of formalism and spii'itual decay ke|)t adive The t!aio religaai in the Church. Tims, \'it,'\vir!L!' ^eh,(!pia!h;uie!-'> ph'i!o-.(>|!.hy frren the standpoint of ethics and i-eligion it ohtaiie- a worth which it cannot claim as a pure metaj-'h} . Here tin.' tangled threads of Schopenhauer'.s liieaighl iiecume separated, • I r « / liere the heterogenous elements find a union and a meaning, when the world is viewed as |)rogressing toward a goal wdiich, though no human eye can see and no finite mind can know, the heart can feel and compreliend. I Natus sum dlv'iv. knl. Apri, MIX \X;i.X I X, I'hcnirc in Khodiciisis Insulae ro-})uhlic;!. St('|'hanus (\.lvii> opcrari- onim fahricae dux patiu" nicu^ e^l. lldei addielus sum evaiiir^dicae. Septem arinos in ludis privatis v{ dciiidi' annos ti'cs in Academia Worccstd" studii.-^ iucuiiui. Anno MDCCCLXA'Il apud riiiversitatnn lii-uncn-cMu matric'ulatus : (inattuor annis in studiis artium hoiu'>tarum consumptis ad i^-radiun liacralaurt'i pliilo.-^upliiat' t'M'etus sum. Trinus postea aiuiis in ctidcin uiiivcrsitati^ iiradjim artium nirunstri onera historiai' litti'raruiii .VuLiiiraiMun vX liuLniae })raeci[)iu' data, nu'ritus sum. l*rai'tt're:i uuuni aruiuiu m universitate i>runen^i moratus Jacoitum Sclli |>lnlr»-,op|tiao |)r()fess(»rem \irum humanis>!niuiii audrvi. Amu) MDCCX'XlA' l)(u-(»iimun iiu' ■•ontuli uhi jU'()i\'.-ori - })us chirissimis I'aul.-t'n v\ PlIridci-riM't dn.-tnrc Siinmrl maL'"- isti'is studiis philosc.phiao ojserain da!' -^s: '■*:?» m •v. v^ . > n V':^.:./^<:;<^ ;^ kl<