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diff --git a/43719-8.txt b/43719-8.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 8bf231a..0000000 --- a/43719-8.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,13340 +0,0 @@ -Project Gutenberg's Life's Basis and Life's Ideal, by Rudolf Eucken - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with -almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or -re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included -with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org/license - - -Title: Life's Basis and Life's Ideal - The Fundamentals of a New Philosophy of Life - -Author: Rudolf Eucken - -Translator: Alban G. Widgery - -Release Date: September 14, 2013 [EBook #43719] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK LIFE'S BASIS AND LIFE'S IDEAL *** - - - - -Produced by Marius Masi, Greg Bergquist and the Online -Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This -file was produced from images generously made available -by The Internet Archive/Canadian Libraries) - - - - - - - - LIFE'S BASIS AND LIFE'S IDEAL - - - - - BY THE SAME AUTHOR - - THE MEANING AND VALUE OF LIFE - - Translated by W. R. BOYCE GIBSON - Crown 8vo, cloth, price 3s. 6d. net. - - * * * * * - - And by W. R. BOYCE GIBSON - - RUDOLF EUCKEN'S PHILOSOPHY OF LIFE - - Second Edition, crown 8vo, cloth, price 3s. 6d. net. - - * * * * * - - A. AND C. BLACK, 4 SOHO SQUARE, LONDON, W. - - - - - AGENTS: - - - AMERICA THE MACMILLAN COMPANY - 64 & 66 FIFTH AVENUE, NEW YORK - - AUSTRALASIA OXFORD UNIVERSITY PRESS - 205 FLINDERS LANE, MELBOURNE - - CANADA THE MACMILLAN COMPANY OF CANADA, LTD. - ST. MARTIN'S HOUSE, 70 BOND STREET, TORONTO - - INDIA MACMILLAN & COMPANY, LTD. - MACMILLAN BUILDING, BOMBAY - 309 BOW BAZAAR STREET, CALCUTTA - - - - - LIFE'S BASIS AND LIFE'S IDEAL - - THE FUNDAMENTALS OF A NEW PHILOSOPHY OF LIFE - - BY - - RUDOLF EUCKEN - PROFESSOR OF PHILOSOPHY IN THE UNIVERSITY OF JENA - - TRANSLATED, WITH INTRODUCTORY NOTE - - BY - - ALBAN G. WIDGERY - FORMERLY SCHOLAR OF ST. CATHARINE'S COLLEGE, AND BURNEY STUDENT, - CAMBRIDGE, AND MEMBER OF THE UNIVERSITY OF JENA - - [Illustration] - - LONDON - ADAM AND CHARLES BLACK - 1912 - - - _First published December 1911_ - _Second and Revised Edition, February 1912_ - - - - -CONTENTS - - - PAGE - TRANSLATOR'S INTRODUCTORY NOTE vii - - AUTHOR'S PREFACE xxi - - I. INTRODUCTORY: THE PHILOSOPHIES OF LIFE IN THE PRESENT DAY 1 - - PRELIMINARY REMARKS 3 - - I. STATEMENT AND CRITICISM OF INDIVIDUAL SYSTEMS OF LIFE 6 - (a) The Older Systems 6 - 1. The Religious System 6 - 2. The System of Immanent Idealism 15 - (b) The Newer Systems 22 - 1. The Naturalistic System 24 - 2. The Socialistic System 41 - 3. The System of Æsthetic Individualism 61 - - II. Consideration of the Situation as a Whole, and - Preliminaries for Further Investigation 81 - (a) The Nature of the New as a Whole and its Relation to - the Old 81 - (b) The Condition of the Present 86 - (c) The Form of the Problem 92 - - II. THE OUTLINE OF A NEW PHILOSOPHY OF LIFE 99 - INTRODUCTORY REMARKS AND CONSIDERATIONS 101 - - I. THE MAIN THESIS 110 - (a) The Ascent to the Main Thesis 110 - 1. Man as a Being of Nature 110 - 2. The Growth of Man beyond Nature 113 - 3. The Inner Contradiction of the New Life 134 - (b) The Development of the Main Thesis 144 - 1. The Main Thesis and the Possibility of a New - System of Life 144 - (a) _The Development of the Spiritual Life to - Independence_ 144 - (b) _The Demands of a New System of Life_ 150 - (c) _The Spiritual Basis of the System of Life_ 152 - (d) _Human Existence_ 161 - (e) _Results and Prospects_ 166 - 2. The Transformation and the Elevation of Human - Life 168 - (a) _Aims and Ways_ 168 - (b) _The Nature of Freedom_ 174 - (c) _The Beginnings of the Independent Spiritual - Life_ 183 - (d) _The Transcending of Division_ 187 - i. _The Spiritual Conception of History_ 188 - ii. _The Spiritual Conception of Society_ 196 - (e) _The Elevation of Life above Division_ 201 - - II. THE MORE DETAILED FORM OF OUR SPIRITUAL LIFE 216 - (a) The Problem of Truth and Reality 216 - (b) Man and the World 226 - (c) The Movement of the Spiritual Life in Man 233 - (d) The Emergence of a New Type of Life 240 - 1. _Life's Attainment of Greatness_ 240 - 2. _The Increase of Movement_ 247 - 3. _The Gain of Stability_ 251 - (e) Activism, a Profession of Faith 255 - - III. THE SPIRITUAL LIFE IN MAN IN CONFLICT AND IN VICTORY 262 - (a) Doubt and Prostration 262 - (b) Consideration and Demand 267 - (c) The Victory 273 - - III. APPLICATION TO THE PRESENT: CONSEQUENCES AND REQUIREMENTS 287 - - _Introductory Considerations_ 289 - I. REQUIREMENTS FOR THE FORM OF LIFE AS A WHOLE 298 - (a) The Character of Culture 298 - (b) The Organisation of the Work of Culture 315 - - II. THE FORM OF THE INDIVIDUAL DEPARTMENTS 322 - _Preliminary Remarks_ 322 - (a) Religion, Morality, Education 324 - 1. Religion 324 - 2. Morality 335 - 3. Education and Instruction 343 - (b) Science and Philosophy 345 - (c) Art and Literature 354 - (d) Social and Political Life 358 - (e) The Life of the Individual 369 - - CONCLUSION 373 - - INDEX 375 - - - - -TRANSLATOR'S INTRODUCTORY NOTE - - -With the consent of the author the title "Life's Basis and Life's Ideal" -has been adopted for this translation of "Die Grundlinien einer neuen -Lebensanschauung," with the hope that thereby the purpose of the work -will be more directly indicated than by a literal translation of the -German title. It is hoped, further, that the title adopted will make an -appeal to the general reading public. To make such an appeal is not the -desire of every writer on philosophical subjects: but in the present -instance it is the case. The author feels that he has a message for the -present time, and one that is vital to the true interests of all. It has -been remarked, and the present writer would be among the first to -acknowledge the truth of the statement, that the voice is that of a -prophet in the sense of an ethical teacher, rather than that of a -philosopher in the more technical sense. Nevertheless, the use of a -philosophical terminology, and the constant implicit reference to the -results of philosophical endeavour in the past and present, combined -with the peculiarities of the author's own views, make it difficult to -understand his message. To non-philosophical readers who are not already -acquainted with the more popular works which have been translated under -the titles of "Christianity and the New Idealism," "The Life of the -Spirit," and "The Meaning and Value of Life," the present work will -appear of considerable difficulty. Difficulty in such a work is, -however, by no means necessarily an evil, for it may compel more careful -reading and thought. The present work is the latest and best general -statement, by the author, of his philosophical position. By some -reference here to certain ideas, principles, and aims of the -philosophy, the attention of the reader may be drawn to those aspects -which, in personal contact with the author, one comes to feel are -regarded by him as of most importance. It is not invariably so, but in -this case to know the man is to gain immensely in the power to -understand and appreciate the message. He inspires us with his -confidence and enthusiasm, even when we have doubts as to the adequacy -of his philosophical creed. His philosophy is, indeed, the outcome of an -attitude of life. To know the man is to understand more fully than from -all his written works what he means when he speaks of the development of -_personality_ and _spiritual individuality_. Whatever may be the value -of what is written about Professor Eucken's position, no substitute can -be found for reading his own words in as many of his different -expositions as possible. - -Should anyone seek in this work for a systematic discussion of -philosophical problems on the lines of traditional Rationalism, which, -though often assumed to be dead, still asserts a strong influence upon -us, he will not only look in vain but will also lose much that is of -value in that which is offered. The aim of the philosophy is not to -discuss the basis and ideal of thought, but to probe to the depth of -life in all its complexity, and to advance to an all-inclusive ideal. -The starting-point for us all is life as we experience it, not an -apparent ultimate, such as the _cogito ergo sum_ of Descartes, the _I -ought_ of Kant, or the _pure being_ of Hegel. At the outset, therefore, -it is necessary to note the nature of the relation between philosophy -and life. Philosophy arises within life as an expression of its nature -and general import. Life may assume various forms, may be, that is, of -different types; with different individuals and societies it is -organised in divers ways. Life so organised, having certain definite -tendencies, is called by Professor Eucken a _system of life_. In the -philosophies of life which arise in these types or systems of life, life -becomes more explicitly conscious of its own nature. Further, a -philosophy of life is also a means of justification and defence of one -system of life in opposition to other systems. Life as experienced, as -organised in some way, is prior to any definite intellectual or -conceptual expression of it. On the other hand a type of life may be -influenced and modified by changes in the accepted philosophy of life, -or by the adoption of a new philosophy. A philosophy, therefore, is to -be judged by the system of life it represents and by its spiritual -fruitfulness. As the roots of the differences between philosophies are -in the systems of life from which the philosophies arise, the conflict -is primarily not between theories, but between systems of life. The -ground of the author's general appeal thus becomes apparent. The problem -is a vital one; in one form or another, at one time or another, everyone -is faced with it: how shall I mould my life? And it is here that we must -insist upon the importance of Professor Eucken's contention that we have -to make our decision for one system of life as a whole, and thus for one -philosophy of life as a whole, as against other systems and other -philosophies taken as wholes. - -Life as experienced is a process, a growth; and in this growth it -oversteps the bounds of the philosophy in which at an earlier stage it -expressed itself, and according to which it strove to fashion itself. -The need for a new philosophy is then felt. Generally, the need is for a -philosophy more comprehensive and more clearly defined than any of the -previous philosophies. Now, Professor Eucken contends that none of the -philosophies of life which are common among us in the present time are -adequate to represent and guide our life at this stage of its -development. He calls us to turn for a few moments from the rush and -turmoil of modern life to "come and reason together" as to life's basis -and ideal. In justification of his view, and in accordance with his own -principle that we must start with life as we experience it, he considers -in the first place the common philosophies of life of the present time -in relation to the systems of life from which they spring. Few will -disagree with his negative view that Religion--at least as -ecclesiastically presented--Immanent Idealism, Naturalism, Socialism, -and Individualism involve limitations, and sometimes unjustifiable -tendencies and claims, and are inadequate to satisfy the age. His next -and chief endeavour is to indicate the direction in which a new -philosophy is to be sought, and also tentatively to sketch the outlines -of such a philosophy. In the nature of the case--as life is a -process--no such philosophy can be regarded as complete. It can and -should strive to take up into itself all that is of value in the -discarded philosophies. Any attempt to outline a "new" philosophy will -be judged by how far, with the incompleteness on all hands, it takes the -different threads of life, and blending them into a unity aids their -growth individually and as a whole. - -Brief reference maybe made here to an attitude, common in the present -time especially among English-speaking peoples, which the author does -not explicitly mention. I mean the attitude of Agnosticism. This, he -would contend and it would seem rightly, is in the main theoretical and -does not, as such, correspond to or represent a system of life. The -agnostic's system of life is formed of aspects of the systems discussed, -with a strong tendency to Naturalism. The case of Huxley, who coined the -term _Agnosticism_, is an excellent example: notwithstanding his -frequently insisting with considerable force upon truths essentially -idealistic, no one can doubt the predominant naturalistic tendency of -his thought. As a rule the adoption of the attitude of Agnosticism is an -attempt, as Dr. Ward has so clearly and forcibly argued in his -"Naturalism and Agnosticism,"[1] to escape from the difficulties of -Naturalism, which in the end it betrays. Agnosticism is, in fact, only -an assumed absence of a theory of life. Professor Eucken would insist -that the instability of the position is intolerable in actual life. -Life's demand for unification, for consciousness of a meaning and a -value, drives us beyond it. "Mere research," he writes, p. 272, "can -tolerate a state of hesitation between affirmation and negation; it must -often refrain from a decision in the case of special problems. Life, -however, cannot endure any such intermediary position; for life, such -hesitation in arriving at a decision must result in complete stagnation, -and this would help the mere negation to victory." - -The great objection to all the systems of life mentioned is that they -are too narrow, and in some aspects superficial. The new system must -unite comprehensiveness with depth. The insufficiency of intellectualism -is now generally recognised: the desire of the age is to do justice to -the content of experience. Though the new system of life is to include -all that is of value of earlier systems, it is by no means an -eclecticism, for it has its integrating principle. This we shall best -see by considering the method and the result of the philosophy. Life as -experienced has already been referred to as the starting-point. To -whatever extent we may seem, on the surface of experience, to be under -the antithesis of subject and object, when we probe deeper we recognise -that both are within life: they are a duality in unity. Here again -reference may be made to the above-mentioned work[2] of Dr. Ward, in -which probably the best exposition in English of this same truth is to -be found. Life as experienced is not simply the empirical states of -consciousness: its basis lies deeper. The method of the philosophy is in -consequence described as _noölogical_ in distinction from the -_psychological_ method, which treats of man out of relation to a world, -and ends with the examination of psychical states; and from the -_cosmological_ method, which treats the world out of relation to man and -aims chiefly at comprehension in universals of thought. Expressed in -another way, life is fundamentally spiritual. Self-consciousness is the -unifying principle: it is only by relation to life as self-conscious -that we can predicate meaning or value. All that is regarded as true and -valuable in all the above-mentioned systems presupposes this relation. -The self-conscious life is not to be confused with the subjective life -of the "mere" individual. In fact, there is no "mere" individual, for in -all there are tendencies which transcend the limits of individual -experience. For example, life includes the relation of man and world; -and the life of society is more than a mere sum of the lives of the -individuals. Perhaps a more correct way to state the author's position -is to say that the individual shares the self-conscious, or, otherwise -expressed, the spiritual life which transcends nature, the individual, -and society. This world-pervading and world-transcending self-conscious -life--_the Independent Spiritual Life_--may be regarded as an absolute -or universal life. The pursuit of the ideals of truth, goodness, and -beauty carries us far beyond considerations of the welfare of the -individual, or the society, or even humanity as a whole. In our -activities we often attain something quite different from and far better -than that at which we aim. Nevertheless, unless truth, goodness, beauty, -and all tendencies leading to them are self-consciously experienced they -have neither meaning nor value: viewed universally, they presuppose the -Independent Spiritual Life. The highest development of the spiritual -life known to us is personality, our "being-for-self," which is not to -be identified with subjective individuality. We are not personalities to -begin with, but have the potentiality to become such through our own -effort. Personality is our highest ideal: in it, as self-conscious -experience all other values for us are included. The author calls us, -therefore, from that excessive occupation with the environment in which -we forget ourselves, to spiritual concentration and the pursuit of -spiritual ideals. The spirit of his message may be expressed in words -familiar to all: "What shall it profit a man if he gain the whole world -and lose his own soul." Remembering that life is fundamentally -self-conscious or spiritual, it may be said that life's basis and life's -ideal is life itself--life completely self-conscious and following out -its own necessities. The basis of man's life is the Independent -Spiritual Life which is appropriated but not created by him in his -striving for a comprehensive and harmonious personality. The ideal of -man's life is such a personality. The more man "loses his life" in the -pursuit of the ideals of truth, goodness, and beauty, the more surely -will he "save it," the more comprehensive, harmonious, and spiritual in -nature will he become. Then he will realise himself as a personality, -and become conscious of his unity with the Independent Spiritual Life. -The dominant Idealism of this philosophy of life is evident: but the -meanings of truth, goodness, and beauty are different from what they -appear to be in many of the older presentations of Idealism. Truth, -goodness and beauty are not abstract ideals but concrete experiences. -The present writer has long been of the opinion that much of -contemporary idealistic philosophy, including that of Professor Eucken, -might be better termed _Spiritualism_ than _Idealism_. - -If life as experienced is a process, it is not difficult to understand -that importance should be attributed to history. In the author's -exposition not only is constant reference made to historical -development, but the nature of history is made a definite subject of -discussion. I would call attention to this aspect of the author's work: -it appears a means of doing more justice to the content of experience -than is done in most forms of Idealism. On the one hand a Rationalism -which tends to shut out the historical as transient and merely -appearance is avoided, and on the other a Historical Relativism which -denies all stability and permanence is strenuously opposed. While the -absolute and eternal--the Independent Spiritual Life--is the -presupposition of the temporal manifestation of the spiritual life in -man, for man the historical is real. The form of our spiritual life is -due to our own acts and decisions. It is in this connection that the -fundamental nature of our spiritual effort may best be seen. The -author's voice is that of a prophet in so far as his whole exposition is -presented as an endeavour to arouse men from their apathy and from the -pursuit of what they themselves know to be unsatisfying ideals. The -importance attached to spiritual effort in his philosophy leads -Professor Eucken to adopt the term "_Activism_" as a definite -philosophical badge. The activistic note is evident throughout, much -more so perhaps in the present volume than in those which have preceded -it. The significance of this emphasis is most clear in its bearing upon -our relation to the past and the present. The present is neither to be -dominated by the past nor sacrificed to the future, but the past is to -be appropriated by our activity in the present, and the present, while -possessing reality and value in itself, looks forward to the future. -Historical content, spiritual endeavour in past, present, and future, -must be unified by a common task. The past is ours only so far as we -appropriate it. Spiritual inheritance is not the same as natural -inheritance. We may by our spiritual effort adopt or reject ideas or a -system of life which have come to us from the past. The character which -the past will have for us will depend on our present spiritual -condition. All spiritual progress involves a break with the past. In the -same way we may take up an attitude of antagonism to the confusions -which exist in modern life, and we may follow a new course. All this is -not to deny the value of history in itself and for our present efforts: -the reverse of such a denial is nearer the truth. For if we realise the -depths and independence of our own life we are not only in a position to -understand and appreciate the movement of history, but, by the nature of -life, we are then driven beyond the mere present. The past relives with -a new spiritual meaning in the consciousness that makes it its own. -History is more than a succession of facts; it must be revalued as a -present experience. Life is not subjectively individual, and to realise -it we must find our place in universal tendencies which are working -themselves out in history. The content of history cannot be pressed into -the narrow scheme of moral effort and attainment, as that is usually -conceived, but in it all spheres of life assert their independent right. -History is not an evolution of categories, but a conflict of concrete -realities, of systems of life, of personalities. Though the great man -cannot be understood out of relation to his time, he is not simply a -product of the social environment. The great man strives to raise the -time to his own level. It may be said that in order adequately to -appreciate the author's position in regard to history the book -translated into English under the title of "The Problem of Human Life -as viewed by the Great Thinkers from Plato to the Present Time" should -be read in the light of the general principles of his philosophy. The -reality of evil and of antitheses in life are fully acknowledged; but by -the spiritual life being thereby called to assert its independence and -to strive to overcome them they may be a factor leading to good. Evil, -so regarded, is not explained away, but the solution is essentially a -practical one. The theoretical problem of evil remains an enigma to us. -The author's message is positive, not negative: it is a call to pursue -definite positive aims rather than to eradicate painful experiences. -"Not suffering, but spiritual destitution is man's worst enemy" (p. -314). - -It has been said with, it would seem, a large amount of truth, that the -philosophy of Hegel has been most fruitfully studied on English soil. -There is reason to believe that it will be somewhat the same in the case -of Professor Eucken's philosophy. His debts to Kant and Hegel are -obvious, but it is interesting to notice that the points in which he -more especially diverges from Hegelianism are largely the same as have -been emphasised in England. The importance he attaches to personality -and ethical activity, his insistence upon human endeavour as a -determining factor in reality, and his emphasis on the dialectic as -being not one of categories but of concrete realities, are in accord -with much of the best of recent English philosophical thought. In the -present work there is much of value for those who--while dissenting from -such perversions as Pragmatism--hold what is commonly termed a "Personal -Idealism." The position of our author is not the same as that of English -Personal Idealism, nevertheless his work aids it in many ways, and -especially in its insistence upon the distinction between personality -and subjective individuality. A comparison of some of the views of the -three philosophical writers who have been most discussed in our -time--the late Professor James, M. Bergson, and our author--would be of -interest. To enter upon a systematic and exhaustive comparison here is -far from my intention, but a few points may be suggested. The modes of -exposition, which in a greater or less degree indicate the respective -methods, manifest striking contrasts: in many respects the positions of -M. Bergson and Professor Eucken appear totally dissimilar. The -acquaintance with natural science, and the constant reference to its -data, that we find in the works of M. Bergson, are not found in those of -our author. Their place is taken, however, by what some will regard as -more interesting, and even more important, an acquaintance with the -present condition of human life, and also a constant reference to -history. Common to these writers is a reaction against formalism and -intellectualism, and in one form or another there is in their writings a -strong element of empiricism. Freedom in some sense is insisted upon by -all; though so far as we may judge from their published expositions -there seem to be considerable differences of view in this matter. -Together with this assertion of the reality of Freedom, both M. Bergson -and our author definitely acknowledge the reality of Necessity and -recognise the importance of struggle in development. Neither writer -claims that we can gain more than the knowledge of a direction in which -the solution of the problem may be sought. Our author himself might -quite well have said, though with application in the main to different -classes of facts, what M. Bergson has said: "It seems to me that in a -great number of different fields there is a great number of collections -of facts, each of which, considered apart, gives us a direction in which -the answer to the problem may be sought--a direction only. But it is a -great thing to have even a direction, and still more to have several -directions, for at the precise point where these directions converge -might be found the solution we are seeking. What we possess meanwhile -are lines of facts.[3]..." "But what is this new reality," writes -Professor Eucken (p. 135), "and this whole to which the course of the -movement trends? The more we reflect over the question the more strongly -we feel that it is a direction rather than a conclusion that is offered -to us in this matter...." There is another passage from M. Bergson the -quotation of which in the present context is justified by its harmony -with so much that Professor Eucken himself says with regard to man's -ideal of life: "If, then, in every province, the triumph of life is -expressed by creation, ought we not to think that the ultimate reason of -human life is a creation which, in distinction from that of the artist -or the man of science, can be pursued at every moment and by all men -alike; I mean the creation of self by self, the continual enrichment of -personality by elements which it does not draw from outside, but causes -to spring forth from itself?"[4] Whether in the works of the late -Professor James there is evidence of a lurking desire for an Absolute -may be left undiscussed. M. Bergson certainly gives more than a hint of -something like an Absolute. Of the absolutist (not rationalistic) -tendency in the philosophy of our author there can be no doubt. -Notwithstanding the antagonism to intellectualism shown in this -philosophy, the influence of Hegel seems evident in its absolutist -tendency. Dr. Ward has justly said that, "with Hegel, the Absolute seems -at one time to be a perfect Self with no hint of aught beside or beyond -its own completed self-consciousness, and at another not to be a self at -all, but only the absolutely spiritual--art, religion, and -philosophy--the over-individual ends, as they are sometimes called, -which become realised in subjective spirits: not self-conscious Spirit, -but simply the impersonal Spirit in all spirits."[5] How far a -corresponding criticism is applicable to the ideas of the Independent -Spiritual Life, and the spiritual life in humanity and the world, in the -present philosophy, its readers must be left to decide. - -The relation of philosophy to life as Professor Eucken conceives it may -justify him in treating primarily of what may be called in a special -sense the problems of life. The difficulty of the problems of the theory -of knowledge no one will deny, though many are impatient of -considerations of them. In any general appeal such as we have to do with -in this work it is almost impossible to deal seriously with them. Still -the problems of the theory of knowledge force themselves upon us, and -will not be thrust on one side. The late Professor James did his best to -leave us in no doubt as to his position in this matter: we have more -than a glimpse of the attitudes of M. Bergson and Professor Eucken. We -await, however, as likely to aid us in a fuller understanding and -estimate of the philosophy, the volume the author has promised us on the -theory of knowledge. Whatever the points of similarity may be in the -views of those mentioned, we cannot fail to note the differences--to -some of these in the case of Pragmatism the author has himself called -our attention; further, we cannot mistake the dominant Idealism of the -philosophy of life here presented to us. One word must be said as to the -author's attitude towards Mysticism; an attitude that has not always -been understood. The Mysticism he opposes is of the type that is -virtually the negation of the Activism which is to him fundamental. But -when that is recognised, the careful reader cannot fail to see that, -ultimately, the philosophy is essentially mystical. - -As I understand it, the suggestion that our author's philosophy would -form a rallying-point for Idealists of various kinds is a tribute to its -unity and comprehensiveness, of which there can be no doubt. Roughly, we -may take up one of two attitudes to the work of a philosopher. We may -accept his general point of view, his main principles, in a word his -"system," however tentative, and modify it in detail. On the other hand -we may reject his main position, and yet find much to accept in his -working out of various aspects of detail, and we may incorporate this in -some other general system. It is not for me to state here the attitude I -take towards, or the difficulties I feel in, the philosophy; I think -that there will be few who will not gain much from the inspiration and -originality which are shown by the author. For his own philosophy of -life he seeks no other treatment than that which he has meted to others: -a sincere endeavour to understand its basis and its ideal. His hope is -that however much its limitations may be pointed out, the truth in it -may be acknowledged and appropriated, if possible in a higher view. The -acquisition of a higher view would cause no one more real joy than -Professor Eucken. - -I have to thank the author for his personal kindness in the discussion -of some difficult points and in the revision of a portion of the proof -sheets. At his suggestion or with his consent a number of small -alterations, as, for example, in the titles of sections, have been made -from the present German text. Owing to an accident, the time for the -preparation of this translation was unfortunately curtailed: I should be -indebted for any suggestions for its improvement. I am indebted to the -Rev. Felix Holt, B.A., for reading through the whole in manuscript and -making many valuable suggestions. For all defect and error I alone am -responsible. - - ALBAN G. WIDGERY - - CAMBRIDGE, _October 1911_ - - -FOOTNOTES: - - [1] "Naturalism and Agnosticism." 3rd Edition, 1906. Vols. I. and II. - A. & C. Black. - - [2] _Ibid._ Vol. II. Lects. xiv.-xx. - - [3] _Hibbert Journal_, October 1911: p. 26. - - [4] _Ibid._ p. 42. - - [5] "The Realm of Ends; or, Pluralism and Theism" (1911), p. 46. - - -NOTE TO SECOND EDITION - -I have taken the opportunity given by reprinting to revise the whole. I -have made a number of alterations rendering the author's meaning more -clear. My thanks are again due to Mr. Holt for his help. - - ALBAN G. WIDGERY - - CAVERSWALL, STOKE-ON-TRENT, - _January 1912_ - - - - -AUTHOR'S PREFACE - - -We may hope for a friendly reception of our investigation only by those -who acknowledge that that which occupies us here is a real problem. It -is hardly open to dispute that life in the present time displays a -serious incongruity between an incalculably rich and fruitful activity -with regard to the material, and complete uncertainty and destitution in -respect of the spiritual, side of life. Attempt after attempt is made to -deliver us from this state of perplexity, and to give more soul and -unity to a culture which outwardly is so imposing. But in the main these -attempts are far too irresolute in their advance from superficiality to -depth, and from individual appearances to the whole: in their innermost -nature they are under the influence of the temporary conditions beyond -which they wish to lead us. In truth, we cannot make an advance in -relation to our life as a whole unless we win a new basis for it. This, -however, we cannot do without raising the problem of our relation to -reality, and, if it is in any way possible, moulding this relationship -in a new way: further, we can be of service in the satisfaction of the -needs of the time only when we gain an independence of it and a -superiority to it. - -Here, therefore, so far as the realm of conviction is concerned, we have -a task for philosophy. The confusion that reigns, however, makes the way -difficult for philosophy also; and sets insuperable limits to its power. -We do not meet in immediate experience with facts upon which a new type -of life might be based: much toil and trouble are necessary to arrive at -that, which, when it is once attained, may seem to be simple and easy. -He who finds the problem too complex, and shirks to expend the necessary -effort, can do nothing else than resign himself submissively to the -prevailing confusion. To-day we are unable at first to sketch more than -the outlines and to indicate fundamentals: we must be quite sure of the -basis and the main tendency of life if we would undertake the -construction of systems; and yet it is just these things which are -to-day the subject of agitation and conflict. Not for a moment do we -doubt the imperfection of our own attempt; we can but hope that others -will take up and pursue the matter further. - -Notwithstanding these limitations and this trouble, an urgent inner -necessity compels us to recognise that there can be no enduring life of -genuine culture unless humanity is inwardly united by common aims. More -and more clearly this main question is seen to be involved in all the -particular questions of the time; more and more does it become evident -to us that our achievement in individual matters can be but -insignificant, if life as a whole is in a state of stagnation and -exhaustion. Though some who may already have taken up a definite course, -or who in their attention to work in some special sphere have lost all -sense for the whole, may refuse to consider the matter, yet wherever -life is still flowing, and where fresh impulse resists the tendency to -division which deprives it of all soul, to deal with the problem will be -felt to be a necessity. Above all, therefore, we trust in the young, -who, among all cultured nations, are striving for a deeper and nobler -life. The more successful this striving, the sooner shall we advance -from a state of confusion to one of order and clearness, from a realm of -illusions to the kingdom of truth, and in face of the chaotic whirl of -appearances we shall attain stability within ourselves. - - RUDOLF EUCKEN - - JENA, _Christmas 1906_ - - - - -I - -INTRODUCTORY - -THE PHILOSOPHIES OF LIFE IN THE PRESENT DAY - -PRELIMINARY REMARKS - - -He who strives after a new philosophy of life confesses himself thereby -to be of the conviction that the philosophies of the present no longer -satisfy mankind; and so we must begin by giving reasons for sharing this -conviction. In doing this we hope to be able to take a positive survey -of the present situation as a whole, and also to gain a firm -starting-point for the course in which the new is to be sought, and not -simply to remain fixed in a mere negative attitude. A precise statement -of the question is the first condition for a correct answer; to satisfy -this requirement is the chief concern of the first part of our treatise. - -Philosophies of life, representations of human life as a whole, surround -us to-day in abundance and court our adherence. The fusion of rich -historical development with active reflection gives occasion to the most -diverse combinations and makes it easy for the individual to project a -representation corresponding to his circumstances and his mood. Thus, -to-day, the philosophies of life of individuals whirl together in -chaotic confusion, gain and lose the passing favour, displace one -another, and themselves change kaleidoscopically. It is not the concern -of philosophy to occupy itself more closely with opinions so accidental -and so fleeting. - -There are, however, philosophies of life of another kind, conceptions of -life, which unite and dominate large numbers of people, hold up a common -ideal for their activity, and constitute a power in the life of -universal history. These philosophies of life are rooted in particular -concrete forms of life, in actual combinations of working and striving, -which with dominating power surround the individual and point out his -course. With such ascendancy they may seem to him to be unassailable and -a matter of natural necessity; in reality they are a product of the -industry of universal history, and from this point of view appear merely -as attempts to comprehend the boundless stream of life and to win a -character for our otherwise indefinite existence. For at first we stand -defenceless and helpless in face of the wealth of impressions and -suggestions which throng upon us and draw us in opposite directions. -Only in one way are we able to prevail: life must concentrate and -acquire a controlling centre within itself, and from that begin a -process of counteraction. We lack distinction of centre and environment; -we need an inner aspiration, an aspiration which seeks to draw the whole -of existence to itself and to mould it in its own particular way. This, -however, is impossible, unless at the same time a philosophy of life, a -profession of faith as to the nature of the whole, a justification of -our undertaking, is evolved. A philosophy of life established in this -manner will be incomparably more powerful, and fuller in content, than -the mere foam on the surface of time. - -Nevertheless, with all its advantages, such a philosophy of life, like -the corresponding system of life itself, is not ultimate truth: it -remains an attempt, a problem which, ever anew, divides men into -opposing camps. For the experience of history teaches us that the effort -after concentration and an inner synthesis of life does not follow one -clear, direct course throughout, but that different possibilities offer -themselves and, in course of time, struggle upwards to reality. -Different systems thus advance by the side of and in opposition to one -another, each making the claim to undivided supremacy, to a superiority -over all others. Philosophies of life now become means and instruments -to justify and to establish such claims. They must enter into the -severest conflict one with another, and the strife keeps up a powerful -tension and pressure because here, by means of the ideas, tendencies of -life compete with one another; because not mere representations of -reality but realities themselves struggle together. It is manifest from -the existence of these last problems that we do not grow up in a -finished world, but have first to form and build up our world. We are -concerned not merely with interpreting a given reality, but first of all -with winning the true, primary, and all-comprehensive reality. By this -our life is made uncertain and laborious, but it is raised at the same -time to an inner freedom and a more genuine independence. - -And now for the first time we see in its true light the fact that its -own views of life can become inadequate to an age. For the fact that an -age lacks an inner unity, that cogent reasons drive it beyond the extant -syntheses, is now a sign that it is not clear and certain as to its own -life. To open up a way for a new synthesis, to organise life more -adequately, becomes the most pressing of all demands, the question of -questions. Even the most cautious and most subtle reflection will not -lead us far in this matter; all hope of success depends upon our life -containing greater depths, which hitherto have not been fully grasped, -and more especially upon a transcendent unity present in it, which -hitherto has not come to complete recognition. All thought and -reflection is thus called to direct itself to the comprehension of such -depths and of such a unity. Everything here depends on facts; on facts, -however, which do not come to us opportunely from without, but which -reveal themselves only to the eye of the spirit and to aspiration. - - - - -I. STATEMENT AND CRITICISM OF INDIVIDUAL SYSTEMS OF LIFE - - -It must be admitted that the first glance at the present conditions of -life shows a chaotic confusion. A more careful examination, however, -soon discloses a limited number of schemes of life, which, although they -are often combined by individuals, are in their nature distinct and -remain differentiated. We recognise five such systems of life: those of -Religion and of Immanent Idealism on the one hand, and those of -Naturalism, Socialism, and Individualism on the other hand. For, two -main groups may be clearly distinguished: one, older, which gives to -life an invisible world for its chief province; and one, newer, which -places man entirely in the realm of sense experience; within these -groups, the ways again lead in diverse directions. Let us see what each -of these organisations makes out of life; on what each supports itself; -and what each accomplishes. Let us see also where each meets with -opposition and in what it finds its limits; and this not according to -our individual opinion, but according to the experiences of the age. - - -(a) THE OLDER SYSTEMS - -1. THE RELIGIOUS SYSTEM - -The religious organisation of life has influenced us in the past with -especial power. This has worked in the form of Christianity, which, as -an ethical religion of redemption, occupies a thoroughly unique position -among religions. As a religion it unites life to a supernatural world, -and subjects our existence to its supremacy; as a religion of redemption -it heightens the contrast between the two worlds to such a degree of -harshness that a complete revolution becomes a necessity; as an ethical -religion it regards the spiritual life as a power of positive creation -and self-determination, and insists upon a complete change of the heart. -Arising in an age of decay, an age weary of life, it confidently took up -the conflict against this faintness; it did not carry on this conflict, -however, by a further development of the natural world and of culture, -but through the revelation of a supernatural order, of a new community -of life, which, through the building up of an invisible Kingdom of -God--which wins a visible expression in the Church--becomes to man in -faith and hope the most certain presence. Christianity ratified an -affirmation of life; still, it did not accomplish this immediately, but -by the most fundamental and definite negation; and thus to a cursory -consideration it might appear to be a flight from the world. In reality, -it unites the negation and the affirmation, flight from, and renewal of, -the world; the deepest feeling of, and the happiest deliverance from, -guilt and suffering, and thereby gives to life a greater breadth as well -as a ceaseless activity in search of its true self. Religion does not -mean a special domain by the side of others; its intention is rather to -be the innermost soul and the supreme power of the whole life. Through -its ideals and its standards it lends to the whole sphere of life a -distinctive character; it leads to a definite organisation of mankind -and offers powerful opposition to all dissipation, all merely individual -caprice. It comes to the individual as a supreme power which brings to -him salvation and truth, shapes him for the highest ends, and connects -his thought and feeling with an invisible world. - -With such an undertaking Christianity has exercised most deep-reaching -influences on the course of history; in the first place it implanted a -new vitality in an exhausted humanity; then in the Middle Ages it worked -to the education of a new race; and now that it has become mature it -has not ceased to exercise strong, though quieter, influences: -considering all the facts, it appears to be the most powerful force in -history. - -But all the greatness of past achievement could not prevent a strong -movement from arising in the Modern Age against Christianity; a movement -which still continues to increase in power and which undermines the -position of Christianity, where outwardly it still appears quite secure. -It is true that there never was a period when it was not opposed by -individuals, but through the lack of any spiritual import these isolated -oppositions had never combined so as to produce a united effect. An -effect of this kind was first produced with the emergence of new systems -of thought and new streams of life since the beginning of the -seventeenth century; as long, however, as this movement was limited to -the cultured classes and left the masses untouched, that which existed -in it as a menace did not produce its full effect. It was the conviction -of Bayle, that the spirit of the Enlightenment would never permeate the -masses. In the nineteenth century this "unexpected" happened, and the -nature of spiritual endeavour and the disposition of men join together -in an assault upon Christianity; an assault which no one with insight -will call anything but dangerous. - -The thing most evident and most talked of is the subversion of the old -conception of the world; a conception which is usually associated with -Christianity. This conception is less and less able to assert itself in -face of the triumphant onward march of modern science. The -representation of nature, like that of human history, has been broadened -immeasurably and at the same time has acquired inner unity, law, and -order; a direct intervention of a supernatural power is felt more and -more to be an intolerable derangement. The earth, hitherto the centre of -the whole and the chief platform upon which the destiny of the universe -was decided, sinks to a position of more correct proportion, and man is -much more closely linked to nature and fitted into a common order. How -then can that which takes place in him decide what shall be the destiny -of the whole? - -If we would withdraw from this shattered conception of the world, as -from a mere external matter, to the substance of Christianity, this -substance must be much more clearly and much more forcibly present to us -than it really is. For, in this change we are concerned not simply with -individual phrases, but with the whole mode of thought. We have learnt -to think far more causally and critically; we perceive the peculiarity -of the historical circumstances in which Christianity arose, and, along -with this, become aware of a wide disparity from the circumstances of -the present. We question all historical tradition as to its grounds, and -so overthrow the weight of authority; our thought has become throughout -less naïve and we strive to transcend the form of the immediate -impression. From this point of view it comes about quite easily that the -religious mode of thought appears to be a mere anthropomorphism, a -childlike, imaginative interpretation of the world, which, to an -intelligence equipped with the clearness of objective consideration, can -pass only for a stage in evolution, which has once for all been -overcome. Such is the teaching of Positivism, and it is just in this -reference to religion that its influence extends far beyond the limits -of the positivistic school. - -The change of thought would not be so far-reaching and so dangerous if -it did not give expression to a change of life as a whole; but this is -what it really does: the Modern Age through the whole course of its -development sets a universal--a system--over against the religious -system of life. That all departments of life should subordinate -themselves to Religion, that every activity has value only so far as it -either directly or indirectly furthers Religion, appears to the Modern -Age a much too narrow conception, and one which is a mischievous denial -of the truth that these departments of life contain. So the different -branches of the spiritual life--for example, science and art, politics -and economics--liberate themselves radically from the supremacy of -Religion, and this is felt to be an incalculable gain in freedom and -breadth. Since, unimpeded, the new life increases in comprehensiveness, -and draws the whole content of reality into itself, it seems to rest -firmly and securely in itself and to need no completion of any kind -whatever. - -Religion, however, must first seek a place in this new life. It finds -this place with greater difficulty, in that modern life, as it works out -its own peculiar characteristics, ever more directly and ever more -harshly opposes Christianity. The initial assumptions of the two are -fundamentally different. Early Christianity spoke to a generation which -had become perplexed concerning the rationality of the universe and -concerning its own capacity; a generation which could attain to an -affirmation of life only through the building up of a new world in -contrast to that of sense impression. The world, then disdained, has -acquired in the Modern Age an ever-increasing power of attraction. New -peoples and epochs have grown up, which have a feeling of power and wish -to exert the force of their youth in work upon the surrounding world; -this world meets such a desire since it shows itself to be still in the -midst of change and full of problems. If formerly the world surrounded -man as an unchangeable fate, it now proves to be capable of change and -of upward development; man can work and strive to transform it into a -kingdom of reason. The more that power and object unite in this, the -more victorious is the advance of work; the nearer the world is brought -to man's inner life, the more does it become to him his true and only -home. The idea of immanence comes to have a magical sound; everything -which oversteps the boundary marked out by the work of the world soon -comes to be regarded as a flight into a realm of shadows, into an -"other" world. Satisfaction is obtained in life in grappling with -realities; in the display of masculine strength: while the religious -attitude to life, with its waiting and hope, and its expectation of -supernatural aid, seems lifeless, feeble, and altogether lacking in -spirit. - -At the same time, all capacity for understanding the world in which -Christianity set the soul of man disappears. That world was one of pure -inwardness, a world in which the fundamental relation of life was that -of the spiritual life to its own ideal conception, to absolute spirit; a -world in which the questions of character and of the determination of -the will were the chief problems. To earlier Christianity that world was -anything but a mere "other" world; rather it constituted that which was -nearest and most certain; the chief basis of life, from which the world -of sense first received its truth and its value. But the more -significant the world of sense becomes to man, and the more powerfully -it draws his affections to itself, the more does the relation to this -world become the fundamental relation of life; the more does that pure -inner world fade, and the more it appears to be something artificial, -shadowy, something added as an afterthought; and the turning to it comes -to be regarded as a flight into an "other" world. Christianity must -necessarily be alien and unintelligible to anyone who feels the world -which was to Christianity the chief world to be a mere "other" world; -for him all the contentions of Christianity are inevitably distorted, -and every element of joyful affirmation and heroic victory which it -contains obscured; the whole must present a miserable and morbid -picture. Now that the centre of life has changed its position in -relation to the world, is it possible to avoid the consequences of a -growing tendency to displace and dissolve Christianity? - -The inner world was to Christianity essentially a realm of conviction -and decision, a relation of will to will, of personality to personality: -free action, in power and love, in guilt and reconciliation, formed the -essence of all events and gave to the world a soul. Only as ethical, -personal power did the spiritual life appear to find its own depth and -to be able to govern the world. - -Here again the Modern Age takes a directly antagonistic course. Its work -is considered most of all to lead beyond the subjectivity of man to the -content and under the objective necessity of things. For we seem first -to attain genuine truth when we place ourselves in the world of fact, -reveal its relations, and take part in its movements; we have to follow -the objective and immanent necessities of things; to interpret every -particular case from the standpoint of these necessities and to -harmonise our own conduct with them. Life seems to acquire greatness and -universal significance only insomuch as the process comes before the -effect, the law before freedom, fixed relations before the resolution -into individual occurrences. To the Modern Age, not only has nature been -transformed into a continuous causal chain, but in its spiritual -activity also the age forms great complexes, which, through the force of -logical necessity, are placed beyond the influence of all caprice, and -of all the interests of the narrowly human. From the point of view of -such an evolution the realm of ethical life appears to be a mere -subjective sphere; a tissue of human opinion and striving; something -which falls outside of genuine reality and which can never be forced -into its structure. To continue in the position of early Christianity is -looked upon as a remaining at a lower level of life; conceptions such as -freedom of the will and moral judgment are regarded as childish -delusions which are the more decidedly rejected the more the new life -displays its fundamental character. Again, with a transvaluation of all -values, that which to Christianity was the highest in life and dominated -the whole is regarded as a mere accompanying appearance; indeed, a -danger to the energy and truth of life. - -Hence a mode of life has arisen which not only regards the answers of -Christianity with indifference, but does not even recognise its -problems; and this mode of life is attracting to itself more and more -the convictions and energies of mankind. Even now the antithesis which -the centuries have prepared is being forced with unmistakable clearness -into prominence. It was possible for us to deceive ourselves with regard -to its implacability so long as a rationalistic and pantheistic way of -thinking presented Christianity in the most general way, and tried to -comprehend its nature as something universal, and at the same time -placed nature and the universe in the transfiguring light of -speculative consideration. But, in the course of further experience, -that mode of thought has been severely shaken and appears more and more -to be a mere aggregate of phrases; and so the antitheses face one -another unreconciled and a decision is not to be evaded. In this matter -mankind is under the influence of a strong reaction against the -religious, and especially the Christian, mode of life. Throughout many -centuries Christianity has given life a unity and has thrown light upon -reality from its standpoint: further, it has presented its way as the -only possible one; one to which everything which in any way strives -spiritually upward has to adapt itself. If the truth of the whole now -falls into doubt, everything which was intended to give to life -stability and character is soon felt to be heavily oppressive and -intolerably narrow; and everything which in that mode of life was -accidental, temporal, and human advances into the foreground. We clearly -perceive that much passed current as true only because we had become -unaccustomed to ask questions concerning it, and also that many things -owed their acceptance not to their inner necessity, but only to social -sanction. With such feelings it may come to be considered a great -deliverance to shake off the whole, and a necessary step towards -truthfulness of life to eliminate every aspect of that mode of life -which through custom or authority continues to exist. - -These tendencies are tendencies of reaction with all their -one-sidedness. But can we deny that a great change of life has been -accomplished, a change which reaches far beyond these tendencies, and -which is still working itself out? That which previously was most -proximate to us is now made to recede; what held currency as absolutely -certain must now be laboriously proved, and, through continual -reflection, loses all freshness and power to convince; immediate -experience, axiomatic certainty, immovable conviction are lacking. The -self-evident certainties in the light of which earlier ages lived and -worked are wanting, and we are compelled to acknowledge that some things -become uncertain, even impossible, when they cease to be self-evident. -Again, it cannot fail to be recognised that we are tired of a merely -religious way of life; we feel its limitations; new needs are awakened -and seek new forms of life and expression; even the traditional -terminology displeases us; even the acutest dialectic cannot lend to the -old the power of youth. - -Of course the matter is not finally settled by these judgments of the -age. For, a later age is not the infallible judge of an earlier; much -which to us moderns seems certain may soon become problematic; much -which satisfies us may soon be shown to be inadequate. It may be that -the old is capable of asserting the ultimate depth of life in contrast -to the new; that the world of inner spiritual experience which it -discloses may finally show itself superior to every assault. But, in any -case, the new contains a wealth of fact not only in individual results -but in the whole of its being; through its emergence it has transformed -the whole condition of things; it is impossible to decry it as a mere -apostasy and to appeal to the consciences of individuals. It may be that -spiritual power here stands against spiritual power in a titanic -struggle for the soul of man: victory must fall to the power which -penetrates to the primary depths of life and is capable of taking -possession of what is true in the others. But if in this the older view -of life is inwardly superior, it can develop such superiority only by -its own complete renewal and energetic inward elevation, through the -most fundamental settlement with everything antagonistic in an -all-comprehensive whole of life. Yet how deeply the age is still -involved in its search! How far it is from the conclusion! For the -present, as far as the life of culture is concerned, Religion has fallen -into complete uncertainty; its chief support and realm lie not within -but outside of that life. It is this which makes all affirmation of -Religion weak and all negation strong; it is this which threatens to -stamp, as something subjective and false, every conception of a -"supernatural." Religion has become uncertain to us not merely in single -doctrines and tendencies, but in the whole of its being, in its -fundamental contention as to the nature of life; and what it offers in -the traditional form in which it has come to us no longer satisfies a -life which has been aroused to greater breadth and freedom. - - -2. THE SYSTEM OF IMMANENT IDEALISM - -By the side of the religious system of life, for thousands of years, now -as supplementary, now as contradictory, there has been another which may -be designated as Immanent Idealism. The latter system is not so fixed -and overawing a structure as the former, but with a quieter force it -penetrates the whole of life. It is not of a simple nature, but is found -in many different forms; still, there exists so much in common in these -that they clearly exhibit and emphasise one common tendency. Like the -religious system, this Idealism also places life primarily in a world of -thought, from which it organises sense experience; it is distinguished -from the former system, however, in that it never separates the two -worlds one from the other, but conceives them as related elements or -aspects of a single whole. They are related to one another as appearance -and reality, as cause and effect, as animating and animated nature -(_natura naturans_ and _naturata_). The divine is not so much a power -transcending the world as one permeating it and living in it; not -something specific outside of things, but their connection in a living -unity; it does not make demands and present us with problems so much as -give to the world its truth and depth. Thus, reality appears as an -inwardly co-ordinated whole: the individual finds his genuine being only -as a part of this whole. And so, here, the fundamental relation of life -is that to the invisible whole of reality; with the development of this -relation, that which seems lifeless becomes animated; the elements which -seem isolated are brought together; and the world discloses an infinite -content and gives it to man for a joyous possession. - -But it would be impossible for man to accomplish the transition from -appearance to reality, if he were not rooted in the fundamental -permanencies and if, in the comprehending of the world, he did not find -his own being. If this is the case, however, and if, through courageous -turning from the superficiality to which he in the first place belongs, -he is able to set himself in the depth of reality, then a magnificent -life with the widest prospects opens out before him. For, now, he may -win the whole of infinity for his own and set himself free from the -triviality of the merely human without losing himself in an alien world; -he may direct the movement of life to a positive gain, since he guides -it from within and from the whole. This life will find its centre in the -activities which bring man into relation with the whole and broaden him -from within to the whole; thus, in science and art spiritual creation -becomes the chief concern; its forceful development allows us to hope -for an ennobling of the whole of existence. With this creative activity -as centre, the rest is regarded as its environment, its means, its -presupposition; but there remain a clear distinction and gradation -between that which a creative life evolves immediately, and that which -forms a mere condition for this and may never become an aim in itself. -Thus, the beautiful is separated sharply from the merely useful; the -inner life from all preservation of physical existence; a genuine -spiritual culture, as the revelation of the depth of things, from all -perfecting of natural and social conditions, from mere civilisation. -Here life finds an aim and a task in itself; they are not presented to -it from a transcendent world; but it can evolve a morality in the sense -of taking up the whole into one's own volition, the subjection of -caprice to the necessity of things. - -A life thus full of content and joyous activity arose when Greek culture -was at its height, and exercised its influence through the course of the -centuries; Christianity also soon laid aside its original suspicion -against this life and joined it to itself. This life, however, first -attained complete independence and self-consciousness in modern culture -so far as this culture followed the way of Idealism. It is felt to be -superior to Religion and hopes to be able to shape the world of man more -satisfactorily than Religion can. In this system formulated conceptions -and perplexing doctrines of the divine are not necessary, as they are in -Religion, because the divine is present immediately in the process of -life and surrounds man on all sides. Man's powers are not drawn in a -particular direction and nothing is discarded, but everything is to be -uniformly developed and unified in an all-inclusive harmony; natural -instincts are restrained and ennobled through their relations in a -larger whole. A power of organisation is displayed which reaches the -finest vein of the soul, throws the genuinely human into relief in -contrast with environment and tradition, and makes it the matter of -chief concern: with all this it deepens life in itself and finds -incalculable treasure in such depth. Everywhere there is powerful effort -and creative activity on the part of man, but at the same time the -consciousness of an invisible order; a joyful affirmation of life, but -at the same time a deliverance from unrestrained curiosity and coarse -enjoyment; a breadth and a freedom of life, and with this a clear -consciousness of the greatness but also of the limitations of man. Such -was the state of conviction in the classical period of German -literature. - -This form of life has, with remarkable quickness, been relegated into -the distance; with all its external proximity it has become inwardly -more alien to us than the world of Religion. All this has come to pass, -however, not so much through direct conflict, which its free and -comprehensive nature could scarcely provoke, as through inner changes of -conditions and strivings, which have now thrust other facts into -prominence and driven men to other tasks. The transformation could -hardly have been effected so quickly and so fundamentally if this mode -of life did not involve fixed limits and problematic presuppositions -which we have now become fully conscious of for the first time. - -It is the aristocratic nature of this Immanent Idealism which first -awakens suspicion and opposition. Spiritual creation, from which it -expects complete salvation, can take possession of and satisfy the whole -soul only where it breaks forth spontaneously with great and powerful -effect, where, with overwhelming power, it raises man above himself. An -incontrovertible experience shows us that this takes place only in rare -and exceptional cases; there must be a union of many forces before man -can rise to such a height and be swayed by the compulsion of this -creation. Now, it is true that the gain of such red-letter days carries -its effect into ordinary days and that from the heights light pours down -upon lower levels. But in such transmission there is a serious and -inevitable loss in power and purity; indeed, in veracity: that which -fills the life of those producing it and arouses it to its highest -passion easily becomes to the receiver a subsidiary matter, a pleasant -accompanying experience. Thus we see epochs of organisation follow upon -times of creation, but we see that such organisation sinks more and more -into a reflective and passive reproduction. Such organisation tends to -become mere imagination; the man imbued with the spirit of such -organisation easily seems to himself more than he is; with a false -self-consciousness talks and feels as though he were at a supreme -height; lives less his own life than an alien one. Sooner or later -opposition must necessarily arise against such a half-life, such a life -of pretence, and this opposition will become especially strong if it is -animated by the desire that all who bear human features should -participate in the chief goods of our existence and freely co-operate in -the highest tasks. It must be observed that this longing is one which, -at the present time, is found to be irresistible. And so the -aristocratic character of Immanent Idealism produces a type of life -rigidly exclusive, harsh and intolerable. - -But not only does this type of life lack complete power and truthfulness -in regard to mankind as a whole; it is subject to similar limitations in -relation to the world and to things. All success in our relation to the -world and to things depends on the spiritual constituting the thing's -own depth, on things finding their genuine being in it, and where this -depth is reached, on the visible world uniting with it willingly, indeed -joyfully, and moulding itself solely and completely for spiritual -expression. Spirit and world must strive together in mutual trust and -each must finally be completely involved one in the other; reality must -build itself up, if not at one stroke, at any rate in ceaseless advance -as a kingdom of reason. A solution at once so simple and so easy bluntly -contradicts the experiences of the last century. Both without and within -the soul of man an infinite concreteness makes itself evident, which -withstands all derivation from general principles, all insertion into a -comprehensive scheme, obstinately asserts its particularity, forms its -own complexes, and follows its own course. The realistic mode of thought -of the Modern Age has brought this aspect of reality to full -recognition. If the spiritual life cannot take complete possession of -things, if a realm of facts continues to exist over against it, it may -be doubted whether the spiritual is of the ultimate being of the world -and reveals the reality of things, or whether it merely comes to them -from without and only touches their surface. In the latter case external -limitation becomes the cause of an inward convulsion. This is a fact -which we find corroborated when we come to reflect that Immanent -Idealism treats the spiritual life in man much too hastily and boldly as -absolute spiritual life; that it attributes to human capacity, without -further consideration, that which belongs to spiritual life in general. -The experiences of modern life place the particularity and insignificant -of man more and more before our eyes; they enable us to see with what -difficulty and how slowly any kind of spiritual life whatever has -emerged in the human sphere, and with what toil it maintains itself -there; they insist that, if the spiritual life is not to sink down to a -mere appearance to man, a sharp distinction must be made between the -substance of the spiritual life and the form of its existence in man; in -every sphere modern life puts questions which lead beyond the position -of Immanent Idealism. Immanent Idealism seems to treat the problem of -life much too summarily and not to penetrate sufficiently to ultimate -depths. - -The conflict between Immanent Idealism and modern life is still more -keen in regard to the problem whether reality is rational. It is -essential to this Idealism to affirm this rationality; it need not -conceive it as present in a complete state, but it must be sure of an -advance to it; the movement of reality, with its antitheses and -conflicts, must pass in elements of reason. Immanent Idealism tolerates -no inner division of the spiritual life; wherever spiritual movement -emerges, there can be no doubt concerning the aim; the development of -power must bring the right disposition with it; every limitation can -come only from weakness or misunderstanding; there can be no radical -evil. With an optimism of this kind the leading minds of German -classical literature are imbued; but how much, in the midst of all the -progress of civilisation, in the nineteenth century the appearance of -the world has been darkened! We see now with complete clearness the -indifference of the forces of nature towards the aims of the spirit; we -see the incessant crossing of the work of reason by blind necessity; we -see the spiritual life divided against itself, eminent spiritual powers -drawn into the service of lower interests, and carried away by -unrestrained passion. In a time of extraordinary increase of technical -and social culture, we see the spiritual life win scarcely anything, in -fact, seriously recede; we see it become perplexed concerning its main -direction, and oscillate in uncertainty between different possibilities. -We experience in every sphere a violent convulsion of the spirit. How -can Immanent Idealism satisfy us under such circumstances; how can it -assure to our life a firm basis? - -Indeed, we may now doubt whether Immanent Idealism signifies a type of -life at all; whether it is not simply a compromise between a religious -shaping of life and a life turned towards sense experience; a _via -media_, which as merely transitional is only able to maintain itself for -a time. The historical experience of the Modern Age seems to show that -the latter hypothesis is the true one. At the beginning of the epoch -Religion stood in secure supremacy and the divine acted on man from a -sovereignty that was supreme over the world. Then the divine came ever -closer to the world that it might spread itself over it and permeate it, -till finally there was no longer any separation, and God and world -blended together in a single whole. At first this seemed a pure and a -great gain: the divine put off all rigid sovereignty and spoke to us -immediately out of the whole extent of life; the world was related, -through the power of the divine, to an inner whole and, illuminated by -it, received a transfigured appearance. And yet this solution was only -apparent; it contained an inner contradiction, which ultimately was -bound to break forth with a power of destruction. The divine had -developed its power and its depth in opposition to the world; will it -retain that power and that depth if the opposition ceases; will not the -renunciation of supremacy, the fusion with things, rob it of all -distinctive content? As a matter of fact, with this increase in -proximity and extension, the divine fades and dissolves more and more; -ever less power proceeds from it: and so the world is ever less -transformed and elevated by it; its transfiguring light is dissipated -and its inner relations are broken. From being a life-penetrating power -Pantheism becomes more and more a vague disposition; indeed, an empty -phrase. The living whole, which in the beginning raised things to -itself, has finally become a mere abstraction which cannot hold its -ground before vigorous thought. Thus, with an immanent dialectic, such -as historical life often enough shows, the movement, since it strove for -breadth, has been destroyed in its life-giving root; it has abandoned -the basis from which it derived its truth and power. Immanent Idealism -shows itself to be one great contradiction; a fascinating illusion, -which, instead of reality, presents us with mere appearance. - -Of course, Immanent Idealism is not finally refuted by such doubts and -difficulties; it puts forward demands which need to be satisfied in -some way; it contains truths which in some manner must be acknowledged. -What would become of human life if it should abandon its striving -forwards to the whole; its spiritual penetration of the world; its -advance in greatness and breadth; its joyous and vigorous nature; the -excellence of its disposition? But the indispensable truth that is -involved in Immanent Idealism must be brought into wider relations, and -thus made clear and modified, so that it may be more secure and more -fruitful in its effect. Meanwhile, we see that here also we are in -complete uncertainty; that which was intended to give a firm support, -and to point out a clear course to our life, has itself become a -difficult problem. - - -(b) THE NEWER SYSTEMS - -No attack from without and no relaxation from within could have brought -the older systems of life into the state of chaos which we actually find -them to be in, if the experience of sense had not become far more to man -and had not given him far more to do than in earlier times. Hitherto -genuine spiritual life seemed to be able to unfold itself only in -energetic detachment from the world of sense; it reduced this world to a -subordinate sphere which received its position and value only from a -transcendent order; thus, all tarrying with the things of sense seemed -to be a sign of a lower disposition, a falling from the heights of human -life. - -This view has been radically altered by the course of the Modern Age. -When the invisible world became uncertain to man and the life directed -towards it shadowy, an intense thirst for reality, for a life out of the -abundance and truth of things, arose, and only the visible world seemed -to promise satisfaction. This world had been seen previously in a -particular light which is now felt to be artificial and distorting; if -this light fails and the world can unfold itself unaffected, it shows a -far richer content, far firmer relations, far greater tasks. All this is -more especially because the world no longer appears to be something -finished, but as still in process and as capable of a thorough-going -elevation; because great possibilities which human power is able to -awaken still lie dormant in it. In diverse directions sense experience -advances far beyond the older form; Natural Science analyses the visible -world into its single components and makes it penetrable to our thought, -and at the same time technical skill wins power over its forces. In the -political and social sphere men find new tasks not only in regard to -isolated questions, but throughout the whole of its organisation, and -great hopes of an essential elevation of life are raised. The individual -also appears more powerful and richer, in that the decay of traditional -ties gives him complete freedom for his development. Even if, in the -struggle for the control of life, these movements in many ways fall into -contradiction one with another, still, in the first place they unite in -advancing the world of sense in man's estimation, in fixing his love and -his work there, and in also making men more and more disinclined to -consider the life-systems rooted in the invisible. Sense experience -presents itself ever more decidedly as something which can tolerate -neither partner nor rival; the life directed towards it loses more and -more the nature of being an opponent, which it hitherto had, and it -undertakes to shape our whole existence characteristically in positive -achievement and also to satisfy the spiritual needs of man completely. -All this signifies an entire reversal of the order of life; for, since -the world which formerly had seemed secondary now becomes predominant, -indeed exclusive, all standards and values are changed, and the old -possession appears also as a new gain. It is true that the new mode of -thought misses the advantages which a long tradition gave to the old: -but in place of this, it has the charm of searching and finding for -itself, the joy of first discovery and successful exertion; here an -infinite horizon is disclosed; before the research and effort of man -lies an open way. Endeavour derives particular power and confidence -from the conviction that the new is nothing else than the old and -genuine, but hitherto misunderstood, nature: it is a return of life to -itself, to its plain and pure truth, which permits us to expect a new -world epoch. And so mankind, exalted in mind and with cheerful courage, -enters upon the course which promises so much. - - -1. THE NATURALISTIC SYSTEM - -The movement towards giving sole attention to the world of sense cannot -make sure progress without a more definite decision concerning the main -agents and the main direction of work. Different possibilities here -offer themselves; three, however, in particular. In reality, these have -all evolved, sometimes blending together and strengthening one another, -at other times crossing and hindering one another. - -None of these movements has displayed more energy and exercised more -power than that which makes the sense experience of surrounding nature -its basis, and strives to include man's entire being within this -experience. This is Naturalism, which, starting out from the mechanical -conception of nature, which has been developed in the Modern Age, -applies the ideas thus obtained to everything, and subordinates even the -life of the soul to them. The movement originated at the dawn of the -seventeenth century, when an independence and autonomy of nature began -to be acknowledged. Nature had been covered with a veil of explanation, -mainly æsthetic or religious in character, which gave it a colour -corresponding to the prevailing disposition, but at the same time -excluded the possibility of a scientific comprehension. A comprehension -of this kind could only be attained by getting rid of all subjective -addition which had been made by man, and by investigating nature purely -by itself. Since Descartes and Galileo that has been accomplished, and -nature now appears as an immense web of single threads, as a complex of -fundamentally mobile, but soulless, elements, whose movements take -simple basal forms, while the combination of these elements produces all -constructions, even the most complicated. This mighty machinery never -points beyond, and as it runs its course solely within itself, so it -requires to be understood solely from itself. Everything spiritual is -thus eliminated; this realm of fact has no implication of aims, or of a -meaning of events. - -This new scientific conception of nature had first, with much toil and -difficulty, to wrestle with the traditional, naïvely human, -representation; this was chiefly a matter of reducing first appearances -to their simple elements, and of constructing the world anew from these. -By this process, nature at the same time became accessible to the -operation of man. For, the technical control of nature presupposes the -analytic character of research; only such a research, with its discovery -of the single elements and tendencies, places man in a relation of -activity towards nature; while in earlier times only an attitude of -contemplation had been granted to him. Natural Science thus created a -new type of life, a life energetic, masculine, pressing forward -unceasingly. - -This life, like science itself, in the first place forms a special part -of a wider whole. As the expulsion of the soul from nature at first -brought about a strengthening of the soul in itself, nature was the less -immediately able to govern the whole. The individual of modern times -strengthened and asserted himself against nature, and insisted upon a -realm of independent inwardness. The contest was a severe one; yet the -more nature was seen to extend, on the one hand, to the infinitely -great, and, on the other, to the infinitely small, the more fixed -relations it showed, so much the more overwhelmingly did it draw man to -itself, the more did its conception tend to include the inner aspects of -the soul also. The final blow in the struggle was given by the modern -theory of descent, since this theory asserts man to be the product -solely of natural forces, and maintains that everything which man -ascribes to himself as characteristic and distinctive is derived from a -gradual development of natural factors. And so nature is exalted as an -all-comprehensive world--nature, that is, as represented in the modern -mechanistic theory, which is thus transformed into a final theory of the -world, a naturalistic metaphysic. The human and spiritual world, which -hitherto had been felt to be an independent realm in contrast with -nature, appears henceforth as its mere continuation, as something which -fits completely into a wider conception of nature. - -A conviction of this kind must fundamentally alter the position of the -spiritual life, as well as its magnitudes and values: and this -conviction is no mere theory, but desires and strives to take possession -of the whole of existence and to change its form completely. Indeed, a -particular naturalistic type of life arises and wins a powerful -influence over the thought and activity of the time. - -Naturalism denies all independence of the spiritual life, which it -regards as nothing more than an adjunct to the realm of nature, and one -that can only exist along with sense existence, as a part of or as a -supplement to it. Spirituality has, therefore, to subordinate itself and -conform entirely to the life of nature; it can never produce and guide a -movement from itself, never evolve a basal and comprehensive activity, -never withdraw itself into its own sphere as into an independent realm. -All self-existent spirituality fades to a world of mere shadows; -whatever makes itself felt in us can only become a complete reality by -winning flesh and blood through the appropriation of physical forces. -Life, thus understood, possesses nothing in itself; it receives -everything from its relations to the environment with which it is bound -up: thought brings forth no new ideas; all ideas are merely -abbreviations of sense impressions. Effort can never realise purely -spiritual values; the essence of all happiness is sensuous enjoyment, -however refined that may in some cases be. The naturalistic system of -life receives a more definite delineation from the representation of -nature, which the mechanical theory, together with a theory of descent -adapted to it, sketches and impressively holds up to the present age. By -this theory nature is completely resolved into a co-existence of -individual forces, which, within the narrow bounds of existence, must -clash violently together, and assert themselves one against the other in -ceaseless conflict. This conflict, however, is a source of progressive -movement, in that it brings together, establishes, and employs -everything useful for self-preservation; it keeps life in a state of -youthful freshness, in that new conditions continually arise and demand -new accommodations with respect to the biologico-economic environment. A -biologico-economic mode of thought is evolved which revolutionises all -previous estimations of values. Everything intrinsically valuable -disappears from the world; its expulsion seems a deliverance from a -confused, indeed a meaningless, conception of things; the useful, that -which promotes the interests of living beings, each after its kind, in -the struggle for existence, becomes the all-dominating value. No -mysterious being of things is apprehended in the True; but those -presentations and systems of thought are called true which ensure that -the best accommodation to the conditions of life shall be attained, and -which just in this way hold the individuals together. No longer does a -Good speak to man with austere demand from a transcendent sovereignty; -but that is good which, within our experience, is of service to the -preservation of life. The Beautiful, also, is subordinated to the -useful, and it is solely by its value in relation to this that it -asserts itself. In everything, it is only one's own welfare, the -interest of individual preservation, that directly inspires conduct; but -real life shows man in so many relations, so closely implicated with his -environment, that he can strive for nothing for himself without also -striving for others. This extension of interests has no limits; there is -nothing in the whole of infinity which could not in this way become to -man, indirectly, a means of self-preservation and thus an object of -desire. - -The naturalistic type of life extends from the most general of impulses -to every branch of activity, and forms every department of life in a -distinctive fashion. Knowledge depends entirely upon experience; every -speculative element must be excluded as a subjective delusion; in all -its branches knowledge is nothing else than a broadened Natural Science. -Art may not pursue imaginary ideals; it finds its single task in the -faithful and simple reproduction of the natural environment. Social life -and endeavour will develop, above all, natural powers, and will seek to -adapt itself to the conditions given by nature, and, rejecting all aims -based upon mere imagination, it will care chiefly for the physical -welfare of the whole, as the source of all power and of all success. - -It is not difficult to understand how this form of life was able to win -and carry away the minds of its contemporaries. In the first place it -has the character of simplicity and immediacy, which, in contrast with -the complexity and the remoteness of the traditional position, appears a -great advantage. For, in this scheme, life, with all its multiplicity, -is dominated and unified by the idea of natural self-preservation; and -the things which immediately affect us, which lie physically and -psychically near to us, come most directly into relation to this aim. It -is a further tendency of this scheme of life to bring the whole of -existence into a state of activity and restless advance. For the state -of conflict which prevails under the naturalistic system allows nothing -to persist merely because of its present existence or through the weight -of tradition, but everything must always be reasserting its right to -existence; it must stretch and extend itself in order to be useful in -the life of the present. That which cannot satisfy this test is -unmercifully thrown over as a dead weight. It is also of great -importance to the theory in question that nature and the world are -involved in ceaseless change, and that, along with the conditions of -life, the requirements also alter: the matter is one of continually -accommodating oneself anew; and so life is placed entirely in the -present, and the fixity of an absolute conception and treatment of -change yields to the instability of a relative one. Last of all, and -most especially, life according to its own conviction bears the -character of truth. For human striving appears to attain the firm basis -of reality, and to become truthful in itself only when it is definitely -related to the surrounding world; while, so long as it trusted to the -capacity of the subject--which fondly imagined itself independent--it -fell into unspeakable error. Only when delivered from subjectivity, only -when fixed within the web of the whole of nature, does life seem to -awaken out of a dream, and to become fully real, a genuine, securely -grounded life. - -The energy of negation which this theory employs and with which it -drives out everything which has become old adds strength to the elements -of assertion and positive achievement in these changes. In this theory -there is nothing indefinite which could soften the opposition, nothing -mediatory which could overcome it, but, distinctly and harshly, -affirmation and negation stand face to face and call for a plain -decision between them. Whatever remains in doubt and under suspicion is -forced into the background, indeed eliminated altogether, through the -victorious onward march of modern Natural Science and the increasing -triumphs of technical skill, which seem to demonstrate, immediately, the -truth of the naturalistic type of life. Thus, this movement spreads in a -mighty flood through humanity, and seizes with a particular power the -classes which are struggling upward, and which meet science and culture -with a faith yet undisturbed. In matters temporal there is hardly -anything which seems able to withstand such an attack. - -Nevertheless, that which gains the support of many contemporaries is not -thereby proved to be the supreme power and the final truth. In that -movement there may be far more, and something far more important than it -itself admits. It may be that it achieves that which it does achieve -only with the help of elements of another kind; perhaps, indeed, it is -able to maintain its truth only in so far as it enters into broader -relations in a wider whole and thereby changes its meaning essentially. -Whether such is the case can be ascertained not by reference to -subjective opinion, but by an examination of the life of humanity. - -Now, the first movement of opposition is produced in just that sphere -which seemed Naturalism's strongest bulwark, that is, Natural Science, -the Natural Science based on mathematics and physics. Only the most -fleeting survey can lead to the confusion of Natural Science with -Naturalism; in reality, the naturalistic thinker cannot with justice -acknowledge any exact Natural Science, and a natural scientist cannot be -naturalistic in thought in consequence of his science, but only in spite -of it. For, Natural Science is anything but a mere copy of the sense -impressions which we experience; its origin and progress are due to the -fact that thought fundamentally acts upon and transforms those -impressions. If our intellect were no more than Naturalism can logically -make it out to be, it could, at most, only refine the animal -presentations a little; it never could have advanced beyond the single -presentations to a representative conception of the world as a whole. -Such an advance can be achieved only by thought raising itself above the -stream of appearances and placing itself over against it; but how could -a mere bundle of perceptions, to which Naturalism reduces the intellect, -achieve this? Incomparably more unity of being and freedom of operation -are necessary for this achievement than such a bundle could produce. - -In earlier times, no doubt, man went very much astray in the -interpretation of his environment; he transferred his immediate feelings -into it; he coloured the whole world in human colours, and associated -with its realities as with beings of the same nature as himself. But -even the error shows a seeking and an interpretation; the simple putting -of the question proclaims a being becoming superior to mere nature. The -most important thing, however, is that man has not regarded the matter -as finally settled with this anthropomorphism; he has come to regard it -as inadequate and has pressed forward to a new way of thinking. What -could drive him to that change but a desire for truth, and how is such a -conception as _truth_ attainable from nature? And if thought has -succeeded in breaking through the misty veil of anthropomorphism and -seeks things in their own relations; if an objective consciousness of -the world has emerged, a consciousness which is as different from the -immediacy of sense impressions as the sky is distant from the earth, has -not man also grown in himself beyond mere sense impression; is it not a -work of thought which supports and governs the whole construction, and -differentiates genuine nature from appearance? How much power of -comprehension and of relating together is exhibited even by Natural -Science, in that it analyses the sense presentation of the environment -into its single elements, ascertains the laws of these, and traces the -movement from the simplest beginnings right up to its present stage of -development. All activity of thought is thus subject to a certain -reproach in that it must continually bring itself into relation to -perception: nevertheless it will interweave all that is imparted to it -by perception into a framework of thought--transform it, in fact, into a -realm of thought. Spirituality is bound; but how dull an individual must -be to confuse such a bound spirituality with mere sensuousness! - -The error of Naturalism is obvious; concerned solely with the object and -its form, it entirely leaves out of account the psychical activity which -is involved in the perception of an object; it overlooks the -life-process within which alone we can have knowledge of an object and -occupy ourselves with it. As soon, however, as we regard the object from -this point of view, it will be transformed and will assume far more -spiritual traits. Reality will then burst asunder the framework into -which Naturalism desires to press it. - -The type of life which Naturalism gives rise to also contains more than -Naturalism is able to explain. At first sight it seems as though man is -taken up completely into a wider conception of nature; as though his -life obeys its forces and impulses exclusively; as though all his -asserted superiority to nature is simply imaginary. As a matter of fact, -in this turning to nature, man, with his spiritual activity, stands not -within, but above, nature. For he does not appear as a mere piece of -nature, but experiences it and thinks over it: its kingdom, its -organisation, its stability become to him a joyful possession and a -widening of his being. The spiritual life has developed in relation to -nature; nature has not welded it together. The same may be said of the -idea of the increase of power, which constitutes the main gain of life -in the naturalistic system. For, in the naturalistic type of life power -is not directed towards externals, as in nature, but is experienced and -enjoyed, and only thus does it constitute a source of happiness; yet how -could it be that, without an organisation of life in an inner unity -which transcends individual occurrences? Thus, the intellectual and the -technical control of nature which the Modern Age has acquired attracts -men and prevails over them chiefly as a growth of life, as an increase -of self-reliance. Even material goods, wealth and property, do not -determine the endeavour of the man of culture so much through sensuous -enjoyment, the limit of which is soon reached, as through their -possibilities as means to activity and creation, to the advancement of -human capacity. It is this in particular which has filled the material -civilisation of the present with the spirit of restlessness and -extravagance, and gives it its demoniacal power over men. It is this -relation alone which explains and justifies the present estimate of -material goods, so much higher as that is in modern culture than it was -in the older systems of thought, which branded as unworthy all endeavour -directed to the acquirement of such things. - -In short, even Naturalism in no way eliminates the subject with its -inwardness; rather in its own development it everywhere presupposes the -subject. It does not shape life out of mere and pure nature, but out of -a close union of a transcendent spiritual life with nature, and out of -an energetic insistence upon elements of nature within the soul. -However, man experiences not so much the things themselves as himself -in the things; the relating together, the surveying, the experiencing of -the whole is always a spiritual performance. This performance makes -something different out of nature, just as the naturalistic culture that -is striven for is different from the state of nature that is found at -the beginning. The misconception of the relation of nature to the mind; -the postulation of nature without mind, in place of nature with mind, -makes Naturalism self-contradictory and untenable. Naturalism therefore -struggles vainly against the following dilemma: if it is really in -earnest in the elimination of spiritual realities, it must inevitably -destroy its own fundamental basis and, as a system of life, must break -down; while if it in any way acknowledges a transcendence of nature, and -a transcendence just in that which is fundamental to it, then it is -necessarily driven beyond itself. - -But such contradiction in the basal position must be present through the -whole development of Naturalism and must make all its factors variating -in colour and double in meaning, since at one and the same time they -involve the spiritual element and reject it, eliminate it and bring it -into the foreground, the former openly and explicitly, the latter -concealedly and implicitly. Such is the case, in particular, with the -fundamental conception of the _struggle for existence_. In the context -of Naturalism, this conception can signify nothing else than the -preservation of natural existence, of mere life; such a conception, -however, is as incapable of comprehending the whole wealth of the work -of civilisation and culture as it is of developing within itself. If the -preservation of existence in this sense were really the highest aim, -then, all the work of humanity, incalculable and great as it is, all the -toil and creative activity of history, would be without result; in no -way would it lead beyond the starting-point; we should, of course, have -life, but nothing along with and in life. Indeed, the movement would be -a continual retrogression, for the experience of the present shows us -clearly enough that the conflict of life becomes ever more difficult, -toilsome, and embittered. If all this toil does not yield more than was -possessed in the original condition, that is, physical existence, then -this implies that we have to make an ever greater detour to establish -that which formerly devolved upon us immediately. In such a case our -life would be a continual sinking, a toil continually increasing in -difficulty, in order that we might simply be something, without being -anything in particular. Or, will anyone assert that there is no -retrogression when the achievement of the same aim costs ever more -effort, ever more labour and turmoil of spirit? - -The fact is that Naturalism also gives to life, which is seen to be thus -immersed in conflict, some kind of content, which it conceives as -increasing continually in the course of the movement, and as attaining -for us through the conflict an ever richer and more comprehensive -existence. But how can a conception such as that of the _content of -life_ originate in mere nature? How can it be even conceived unless life -possesses some consciousness of itself, unless there is a transformation -of what is external into something internal--a thing which nature can -never accomplish? - -With the conception of the _struggle for existence_, the useful becomes -the preponderant power of life; it attempts a transvaluation of all -values, since it lays stress rather on the relation of things to us than -on their own nature. The conception won acceptance from and power over -the minds of men because it was a complete change from the generally -accepted explanation, and at the same time seemed to simplify matters -greatly. Unfortunately, on further consideration this transformation -proves to be a complete reversal of the general scheme of life, indeed a -destruction of it. Man, it is true, does not preserve his physical -existence without toil; he must continually win it anew, and nothing can -occupy him which does not acquire some relation to this necessity and -make itself consistent with it. But the further question arises, whether -anxiety for the useful is also able to crush out that which is -distinctive and characteristic in the world of humanity. If we -recognise the limits of the endeavour after the useful, we shall soon -become doubtful concerning its claim to be the sole aim of conduct. That -endeavour is spent solely on the welfare of the individual; it can never -free itself from reference to the individual, and never, beyond that -perceived, can it take up anything as an aim in itself. Interest is -centred solely upon the external products of the activity of men and of -the process of nature, and not at all upon what men and nature are in -themselves. We find here nothing but isolated spheres of existence which -are devoid alike of inner relation to themselves and to one another. - -Now, Naturalism can appeal in its own defence to the fact that real life -shows its individual departments to have thousands of inter-relationships, -so that the welfare of the individual is inseparably bound up with that of -his environment, his family, his home, his state; and that therefore, in -order to prosper himself, his endeavour must be for the good of these -also. It may even serve his own interest to give up a direct advantage in -favour of a greater indirect one. Further, Naturalism is able to assert -that, however little the inner disposition of others may affect us -directly, this disposition can acquire a value for us in so far as its -persistence alone assures to us a continuance of achievement. As -considerations of this kind may be extended without limit, there is -nothing in the whole breadth of existence which the utilitarian view of -life need reject. - -But, in the midst of all this extension in breadth, this development of -life retains a fixed limitation in its inner nature, which cannot be -transcended: we can never strive for the alien, the other, the whole, -for its own sake, but only as a means for our own welfare; everything -inward becomes a matter of indifference if, sooner or later, it is not -transformed into an external result. Human life, however, through its -own development has grown beyond this limitation; if not in the breadth -of existence, yet in its inner nature and at its highest, it manifests -something significantly more. Man is capable of a love which values -another, not because it hopes for this or that which is useful from -him, but because with the whole of his existence he is valuable to it. -Man is capable of a love which can lead him to the willing -subordination, indeed the joyful sacrifice, of his own existence; of a -love in which the first self dies and a new self is born. "Love is the -greatest of all contradictions, and one which the understanding cannot -solve, since there is nothing more impenetrable than this individuality -of self-consciousness, which is negated, and which yet I should retain -as positive" (Hegel). Into what a state of poverty humanity would fall -if a genuine love of this kind were struck out of the number of its -possessions! But can Naturalism in any way understand and estimate such -an inner expansion of the heart, such a _Stirbe und Werde_ [a dying to -live], to use the words of Goethe? - -A deliverance of life from the mere _ego_ is effected in another -direction in work. Of course, work also stands in close relation to the -preservation of life; it must demonstrate itself to be in some way -useful. But work would never fill the soul and attain to anything great -if it did not also become an aim in itself; if it were not carried on in -complete submission to the object and according to its requirements. How -low all educational endeavour, personal guardianship, all work for -humanity would sink; how humanity would lack all self-forgetting -devotion to it, all bold pressing forward; and how unintelligible the -joy in a life's vocation would be, if the idea of utility solely and -entirely determined conduct, if the chief concern were always how the -work paid! Should we not sink, in such a case, into a slavery which -would enthral man far more oppressively than any command which a tyrant -could be capable of? - -It is true that on the average level of existence much is turned to the -service of the merely useful which was produced from love and work, and -this reversal of spiritual goods may be the first thing which comes -definitely under our notice. In order, however, even to be so applied -and reversed, they must originally have been generated in some manner, -and this original generation can never proceed from the useful, but only -out of the inner force and compulsion of the object, as, for example, in -the case of the great transitions of thought, of artistic creation, and -of religious conviction. And, as these have proceeded from inner -movements, so they have also brought about powerful inner changes. They -have not altered this or that in a given world in order to make it more -comfortable to man, but with an energetic revolution have transformed -our world from its very foundations, and have constructed a new world in -contrast to that which immediately surrounds us. How much or how little -individual men, or indeed even mankind as a whole, have appropriated of -this; how far man has corresponded and still corresponds to the -necessities of his own nature, is a matter and a question in itself: in -the spiritual life of humanity the new magnitudes are extant, and they -operate here as norms for testing all achievement. At the same time, -they show that our life and our nature are of a kind different from what -Naturalism represents them to be. However much Naturalism may boast that -it is possible for even the highest to be drawn into the service of the -merely human, with all its boasting it has not explained the origin of -the highest: can a thing proceed from its own shadow? The naturalistic -attempt to trace everything back to the useful really reverses the -condition of affairs and results in inner destruction wherever -disposition stands first. For conduct changes its character completely -according as it is regarded as a mere means, or as an end in itself; -according as its aim is striven for directly or only indirectly. Do such -things as love, fidelity, honour deserve these names if the thought of -selfish advantage is their motive power? It lies in the nature of -certain things that they must be treated as ends in themselves and as -matters of primary concern: to degrade them to a subsidiary position is -in their case only a finer kind of destruction; to be opposed to utility -is an attribute inseparable from their very being. Where disposition is -valued only as a pre-condition of achievement, as in Naturalism, at the -highest only a tolerable appearance, a substitute for a genuine -disposition, can be reached in the whole moral sphere. Naturalism -affords us an example of such a substitution when it sets up an -altruistic action, that is, an action which produces something useful to -another, in place of an inner expansion of life, which takes the other -up inwardly into our own volition and being, and which alone leads -beyond egoism. Naturalism is able to overlook all this; is able to make -what is the secondary view of things the primary one; the derived, the -original; is able to put the relation to human perception in place of -the thing itself, only because its interest is so completely occupied -with external relations that it does not independently evaluate the -inner; and again, because a reflection that appeals to the understanding -hinders all immediate relation and spontaneous appropriation. Otherwise, -it also would feel how deep, how intolerable, a degradation of man -ensues if his innermost experience, his striving after truth, his -wrestling for unity within himself, his love, and his suffering are made -a mere means to physical self-preservation, and are thus regarded from -the point of view of utility. - -If we glance over the life of universal history, we see that a history -of a distinctively human character extricates itself from the machinery -of nature only through man's acquiring an independence over against his -environment, evolving a life conscious of itself and from it exerting a -transforming power upon all presented to it. Only thus does a -civilisation grow up in contrast with the mere state of nature. In -civilisation and culture man enters into conflict with the infinity of -the external world, but he cannot carry on this conflict victoriously -without setting an inner infinity in opposition to that external one. In -the struggle between these two worlds the life of man is transformed no -less than the appearance of reality. More and more the visible world -becomes an expression of an invisible one; more and more life draws the -world into itself and finds the chief problems in its own sphere. Thus -life becomes raised above simple physical preservation; that which -serves in this preservation is regarded as a condition only and as -something preliminary. - -Among the peoples situated nearest to us, this tendency has taken -different forms; but the separation of creative spiritual activity from -all mere utility is common to all. Thus, Greek culture gave birth to a -life resting in its own movement, a life satisfied in itself. In the -sharpest manner it marked off the beautiful, that which could produce -pleasure immediately and of itself, from the merely useful, everything -which served something else. It lauded the life filled with the -perception and appreciation of the beautiful as the only free life, and -pronounced every other way of life to be servile. Further, if in -Christianity, in the comprehensiveness of its relations, the care for -the welfare of the narrowly human takes up a great amount of attention, -and a utilitarianism of a religious kind is evolved, the height of its -creation and disposition is not affected: in it the winning of a new -life superior to all selfishness, the becoming one with the divine, is -the one end in itself. If Clement of Alexandria could say that, if it -was a matter of choosing between the knowledge of God and eternal bliss, -he would have, without hesitation, to renounce the latter, or if Thomas -à Kempis said, "I would rather be poor for Thy sake than rich without -Thee. I choose rather to be a pilgrim with Thee on the earth, than -without Thee to possess heaven. For where Thou art, there is heaven; but -where Thou art not, there is death and hell"--then these are not merely -the lofty sayings of individuals, but a faithful expression of that -which gave to the whole system its world-penetrating and world-reviving -power. - -The Modern Age, too, which has conceded so much to utilitarian striving, -is in the innermost essence of its effort far removed from the spirit of -mere utility. For, from the two poles of its life, from the subject as -from the object, it breaks through all that is simply "given" and forms -a new, self-existent world. In modern times the subject frees itself -from the environment, places itself proudly over against it, and finds -its securest experience in the self-certainty of its own life. At the -same time it in no way renounces the surrounding world; but through the -activity of thought it reconstructs that world, and in this -conceptualises and idealises all its magnitudes. The more the subject -becomes assured of seeing all things spiritually and scientifically by -means of its own organisation, the more true is it that all sense -experience is sustained and modified by spiritual power. Natural -self-preservation cannot possibly satisfy the striving of the subject. -For this striving can never be reduced to a mere means, but finds its -power, as its joy, in becoming a world in itself; in the proud -maintenance and establishment of its own nature in face of every -opposition; in the impression of its particularity upon the infinity of -things. On the other hand, over against the circumstantiality of man, -great systems of thought are formed; evolve a characteristic content and -independent powers; and, as forces in the life of universal history, -press forward their consequences with inevitable necessity. These -systems seek to bring reality under their sway, and do not manifest the -least concern with regard to the continuance and the interests of man. -Science and art and the political and economical aspects of life afford -examples of what we mean. Accordingly, in the modern world and in the -modern man, two movements towards infinity clash together, and from -these there arise great commotion and violent unrest. Whatever may -remain enigmatical in this, the fact of the transformation of the first, -the sense experience of things, is beyond doubt. It is also beyond doubt -that man, regarded spiritually, does not find himself a member of a -given world, but must first seek and make clear his fundamental -relations to the world. From this position Naturalism, with its naïve -assertion of the finality and permanence of the sense impression, -appears to be an intolerable dogmatism. - -Naturalism is seen to be far below the highest point of universal -historical development; it cannot appropriate the experiences and -results of that development; it consists of a confusion of naïve and -scientific modes of thought, which win the adherence of many -individuals, but which, through their contradictions, can never -guarantee to life genuine stability and a clear course. Only because it -evolves in the atmosphere of a world of another kind, and thereby -imperceptibly enhances its own conceptions, does it appear at all -plausible. Nevertheless, even so, it is a mischievous confusion of -thought which must act detrimentally upon conduct. Those especially will -be opposed to it who recognise in human life great tasks and severe -perplexities, and desire that the highest powers and clearest thought -shall be called forth for the accomplishment of those tasks and the -solution of those perplexities. But Naturalism, obscuring, as it does, -the inner problems of life; with its backwardness in the movement of -universal history; and with its attempt to take from human life all -proud and free self-consciousness, indeed all soul, can tend only to -reduce the energy of life. - -The rejection of Naturalism by no means signifies failure to appreciate -the increased attention to nature, out of the wrong interpretation of -which Naturalism has proceeded. Not only has visible nature become more -to our knowledge; it has also become incomparably more to our life. The -fact that we feel ourselves conditioned by it, and have become more -closely associated with it, can be fully appreciated and must force us -to a radical revision of the traditional form of life. Such a revision, -however, can be successful in achieving its aim only if the new -experiences are systematised to form a consistent whole with the -remaining facts in a comprehensive, universal life; spiritual endeavour -is solely and alone capable of offering this universality and of -accomplishing this task. - - -2. THE SOCIALISTIC SYSTEM - -The socialistic system of life is often closely bound up with the -naturalistic, and blends with it so well as almost to form a single -whole; indeed, there is so much affinity in their fundamental -principles that the one may appear to be the completion of the other. -But when we come to details, we find that a different character and a -different emotional life are yielded according as the relation to nature -or to human society governs life; especially as we are parts in an -infinite nature, or as we place our own province in the foreground and -seek a new form for it. On the one hand knowledge takes the lead, on the -other activity. While the former, according to its nature, is more -concerned with reaching a consistent whole, the latter feels the -contradictions of experience most intensely. With the one progress -appears to be a gradual accumulation, with the other it does not seem -possible to dispense with a radical change; while the former is broader -in its outlook, the latter has more warmth of enthusiasm. Through the -domination of thought and life by the problems of society, a distinctive -form of culture may therefore be expected. - -In modern life different motives have led to a closer unity of men on -the basis of experience. Religion no longer accords to the individual -firm support as in earlier times, and with every advance of scientific -research nature is removed inwardly further from us; ceaseless criticism -and reflection tend to prevent us more and more from comprehending the -whole as a unity. Man, thus isolated in the whole, seems to himself to -be lost, unless he succeeds in discovering relations between himself and -others of the same nature as himself, and unless in co-operation with -them he helps to build up an independent realm of their own, which may -lend support and value to the life of the individual. - -In the Modern Age social life has tended to this end under the influence -of fresh impressions and new prospects. Hitherto that life was under the -influence of an invisible world of thought, especially of one of a -religious kind. The union of men had particular presuppositions and was -realised in a particular manner; here, the more closely a certain group -held together, the more sharply was it separated from others; the -calling forth of power in one particular direction meant diverting it -from other tasks. A changed mode of thought was also able to take -exception to the view that the ties which bind men together came from a -transcendent order, which is now felt as an "other" world and is the -subject of doubt. At first, therefore, we are apt to think it a pure -gain if modern society no longer concerns itself with these invisible -bonds, and regards the union as arising solely and entirely out of the -immediate experience of life. For then there is nothing to hinder the -balanced development of all the relationships of men among themselves; -the social life serves no other end, but finds its task and happiness in -itself, and in its actuality is disturbed by no kind of doubt. - -With this deliverance from all external constraint, a positive advance -of the life of society on the basis of the Modern Age is associated. A -life more free in conduct, and which through progress in the arts -ceaselessly expands, brings men nearer to one another, and forces them -into closer union; action and reaction accelerate each other. The -opinions and strivings of the masses are determined more easily and -exercise more influence; the whole and its influence upon the individual -become incomparably stronger. At the same time, the energetic attention -that men bestow upon the surrounding reality throws into bold relief -relations which have existed from the earliest times, but which hitherto -have not been prominent, and enables them to acquire a greater value for -life. Since the old appears in a new light, and the new arises, diverse -streams of social life are formed, and through their diversity operate -to the strengthening of the main tendency. - -Modern Sociology shows the individual to be far more dependent upon the -social environment, upon general conditions, than we are wont to assume -from the first impression, which usually throws differences into relief -and overlooks common traits, generally fails to pay sufficient attention -to the growth of the individuals, and is too apt to take the positions -which they possess as essentially the result of their own work. In -contrast to this, the one thing which now has power to impress us is -the fact that the dependence reaches back to the earliest beginnings; -that the individual has become what he has become through the -overpowering influences of heredity, education, and environment. -Further, the conviction that the differences lie within ascertainable -limits, and that there is a certain average level throughout all the -multiplicity of life, is gaining a firmer hold. To ascertain these -average levels now becomes the chief problem of knowledge, and to -realise them the chief task of practical political provision. Inner -changes are also brought about. The fact that, with these changes, -responsibility, guilt, and desert are transferred more and more from the -individual to the society tends to call forth more humane sympathy and -more mildness of judgment, and tends to discredit the excessive -self-esteem of a self-righteous Pharisaism. At the same time it -constitutes a powerful motive to work for the whole; to strive to raise -the whole, morally and physically; to develop a social morality and a -strong feeling of solidarity. - -To the modern man, therefore, the life of the State advances through -changes in content and form. The State, which in the Middle Ages had to -leave all problems of inner training to the Church, in its new function -of culture State now assumes all tasks, influences the whole life of the -individual, and is confident in its power to transform our existence -more and more into a realm of reason. Along with this there is a strong -tendency to place the State increasingly on the power and insight of -individuals; all through the nineteenth century this tendency won an -ever more overwhelming power. The more activity we bestow upon a -particular sphere of work, the more valuable does it become to us, the -nearer does it stand to our inner nature. Thus, the ancient mode of -thought, that the individual is a mere member of the political organism, -and that he receives his tasks and obtains his power from it, was able -to be revived. - -With this the stronger emphasis laid upon national peculiarities, and -the more definite self-assertion and more vigorous development of -nations are associated. Formerly national character had been veiled -and, as far as the spiritual ideals of humanity are concerned, as though -lost. Now nations appear as points where the spiritual life manifests -itself and concentrates distinctively. To work out their peculiarities -clearly, and manfully to assert them in the competition of peoples, -promises great gain for the organisation and energising of life; for the -first time, the divine seems to pass into daily toil on earth. - -Most of all, the modern organisation of labour, with its enhancing of -technique and its advance beyond the capacity of production of the mere -individual, heightens the power of impression of the picture as a whole. -Work brings about a deliverance from the passivity of the subject; it -organises itself into independent complexes, which develop into a state -entirely foreign to our nature. It produces its own motive powers and -necessities, and requires from the individual the strictest obedience. -The performance of the individual attains a value only in definitely -ordered co-operation with others; it loses all worth if he attempts to -ignore this relation. This is shown with particular clearness in the -evolution of the factory with its production by machinery. It is shown -further in every specifically modern work in administrative government, -in military organisation, in knowledge and education. Everywhere we find -great organisations; an enormous growth in the capacity of the whole, -but a sinking of the individual to a mere link of the great chain, a -proscribing of all individual will. If all thus depends upon the whole, -the success of endeavour and the happiness of life will be decided -chiefly by the organisation of the whole. It is not to be wondered at, -then, if the antitheses which arise in reference to this organisation -agitate people in the strongest degree; if a faith in the omnipotence of -political and social forms grows up, and if over these the keenest fight -rages. - -In this connection there is no problem which gives rise to greater -complications and severer conflicts than that in regard to the -preservation and raising of the standard of material existence. If, in -general, we attribute incomparably more value to the material in life -than was done formerly, so here also the problems of modern labour reach -their climax. The organisation and concentration of labour have made by -far their greatest progress in this matter; a gigantic accumulation of -capital on the one side and of labour power on the other has intensified -to the uttermost the opposition between man and man. In this conflict -more than in any other the whole being of man comes into play; here, -therefore, the most powerful passions flame up. No wonder that, if the -thought of a fundamental re-organisation rises to the surface, it wins -an influence amounting to fascination, arouses the hope of an essential -advancement of the whole of human existence, and impels men to vigorous -activity. - -Thus, then, this sphere, in which fact is regarded as principle, and in -which the problem of the development of society is elevated to a -position of importance above all others, and seeks to impress its stamp -upon the whole of life, is first and foremost. From this point of view -the organisation of society is the central problem of all culture, and a -distinctive social culture, a social system of life, is evolved. But -that which emerges at this point with especial power and clearness would -not have been able to win men so quickly and influence them so strongly -if it did not constitute a high-water mark of a wider movement, of a -general tendency of the modern man to regard the social relation as -being of the essence of life, and to shape life anew from this. Viewed -historically, this tendency arose as a reaction against the practice of -placing the individual in the foreground, a practice which since the -beginning of the Modern Age had been resorted to in the most diverse -departments of life. What was felt to be unconditionally right in -opposition to the bondage of the Middle Ages has, in the course of time, -shown a reverse side. Many painful experiences have led us to favour a -movement in the direction of the whole again; and so it comes about that -all hope of amelioration is able to be regarded as inevitably bound up -with the complete victory of this movement. - -A distinctive social type of life can be formed and can strive for -supremacy only if great problems arise within society and if its -position in the whole of our life is capable of and in need of change. -It will soon be seen that the case is so in respect of both these -things; and also that two movements, one more general in kind, and -another more precise but also more uncertain as to its goal, are -connected. - -The point at which the new development of life institutes a new demand -is the relation of the individual to the means of existence and the -goods of culture. Formerly an aristocratic order preponderated, which -allowed only a few to share in the abundance of these goods, while it -was only afterwards that the many were able to partake of the poor -remains. In material, as in spiritual, things man was concerned less -with the equitable distribution of the possessions of humanity than with -increasing them. The matter of chief importance, and this with regard to -questions of inward culture also, appeared to be in some way to -incorporate the contents and goods within the sphere of human existence, -and to fix them there; the extension of these goods among men was a -matter of secondary consideration, and often one that was only very -lightly thought of. The limitation to a small chosen class, indeed, -seemed to be quite indispensable for a secure and worthy organisation of -life. Thus, this culture acquired its character at the highest levels of -society, and from there descended in diminishing degrees to lower -levels: it was regarded as inevitable that in this descent much should -be lost, and that the less privileged classes must perforce be satisfied -with very little. - -A movement in opposition to this state of things arose in the first -place among the individuals who were placed in the background by such an -organisation, and who, not convinced of the validity of the doctrine of -the immutability of their fate, began to make comparisons and to ask -questions. Their desire was not merely for more happiness, but for -spiritual advance also. In humanity there is an energetic striving and -advance, and in this a far greater spirituality and a far keener thirst -for truth are often shown in the classes of the people who are -struggling upward and pressing forward than in those classes which from -early times have had possession of power and wealth and which are -hampered by a feeling of self-satisfaction. - -That which at first is striven for by merely a part of mankind acquires, -through its inner necessities, a power over others also, and becomes a -requirement of the whole. We experience here what earlier was called the -power of ideas in history, that is, the fact that in certain periods -certain thoughts and demands acquire an overwhelming power of -penetration and impel men to a line of conduct which is even opposed to -their special interests. We may so far speak of the supremacy of the -social idea in the present, as not only in the disposition of -individuals but also through organisation and legislation there is an -endeavour to bring help to the poor and the weak, to raise those who are -struggling upward, and to convey as directly as possible both material -and spiritual goods to all who bear human features. It is not only that -this appears a matter of justice; a rejuvenation and an energising of -the whole of culture are also hoped for. Without a radical rejection of -all that which in the traditional position has decayed, become alien, or -is now artificial; without a deep-reaching simplification and a greater -proximity to the soul, how could all partake of culture, and how could -it become a concern of all? The old demand of leading educationalists, -of Comenius and Rousseau, of Pestalozzi and Froebel, the desire for a -rejuvenation of our culture antiquated as it is in many respects, seems -to be approaching its fulfilment now that the matter is a concern of the -whole of mankind. - -However, this striving, which in itself cannot be rejected, enters upon -a narrow course and at the same time upon much that is problematical, in -that it unites with the positivistic tendencies of the age in the -rejection of all invisible connections and in the restriction of life to -the experience of sense. Instead of the whole, we now have the average -and the masses, and instead of a creation from the whole, a building up -from below; the needs of the masses are the main motive power of life. -But as with the masses the chief questions are those of the physical -preservation of life, and of economic existence, it seems as if, with -their solution, with the deliverance from oppressing cares and necessity -through a radical revolution, a complete state of happiness and a -ceaseless spiritual advance of humanity are assured. Material welfare, -which in earlier organisations of life was so depreciated, in the new -system becomes the matter of chief concern; it is regarded as that which -more than anything else leads to the development of every power and -makes culture the truth for the whole of humanity. - -The life of society is thus seen to be full of problems. Nevertheless, -the position of society in our life as a whole has been changed and -raised. We have become far more uncertain concerning our relation to -ultimate and universal reality; we doubt the possibility and the -validity of first winning, through religion or speculation, a world -beyond human experience, of the conveying it to that experience, and -from the point of view of such a world giving the human its light and -setting it its task. In short, the centre of life has changed from the -object to the subject; we know that we cannot abstract from our own -nature our spiritual organisation, but that we carry it into every -aspect of the whole; that we see and form the world through man. With -such a transition, the movement from man to world becomes the chief -movement of life; and the conception of man will decide the nature of -the conceptions of life and of reality. Henceforth greatness may be -attributed to these only if human nature is capable of an advance beyond -what it appears to be in the first impression. That, however, will -scarcely be possible unless humanity is conceived as a whole and, with -such a unity, has more power and depth than it has as it exists -immediately before us. This also will operate to the strengthening of -the social order, in which sense experience controls thought. - -Thus, many different factors unite to make the condition of mankind as -it is, that is, the state of society on the basis of experience, the -starting-point and final aim of all endeavour, and the relation of man -to surrounding men the fundamental relation of his life. But, as in the -case of culture as a whole, the individual departments of life must also -win a distinctive character if the welfare of the social whole, the -achievement for man and the influence on man, becomes the -all-controlling task which sets the aim and points out the way for all -activity. - -In this context science does not reveal hidden depths of things, but -aids man in winning power over appearances; it leads him to a more -zealous and a more active life. Art does not lift him into an ideal -world; but, within experience, softens the pressure of existence and -fills life with pure joys. Morality does not subject our conduct to an -invisible order, but directs man beyond himself to men around him; it -develops the feeling of solidarity and raises the standard of the inner -relationships of society. For religion as the revelation of an "other" -world there is no room; this world shows in humanity an object worthy of -reverence; so understood, religion also must work to the inner elevation -of society. - -In everything that which distinguishes the individual is thrust into the -background to make way for that which is common; work has in the first -place to concern itself with that which is common to all. In that here -science makes man the chief study of man, it considers him especially as -a social being and finds its chief theme in the knowledge of social -conditions. Similarly, the chief subject of art is not, as was formerly -the case, the doings and experience of individuals, but the forceful -representation of these social conditions. The raising of the general -level becomes the chief care of all practical activity, as also of -education. According to this scheme the individual is of consequence and -of worth only through those elements of the common life which he brings -to expression, and through the way in which he reacts upon that life. -The industry of universal history is understood, therefore, not from -that which relates primarily to individuals, but from that relating to -the movements and destinies of society. - -Such an estimate of the whole involves a conviction which seldom finds -expression, but which silently exerts its influence everywhere: the -belief in a summation of reason by the organisation of individuals into -a whole. Only a belief of this kind is able to establish the supremacy -of the mass over against the individuals, also in spiritual things; only -such a belief is able to justify the hope of a victory of the good in -the sphere of humanity. - -The net result of all these ideas and tendencies is a co-ordinated -system of thought, a distinctive type of life. In this system man is -first and foremost a member of society; he originates in it; he remains -in it; and his activity carries implications far beyond his own life. -Not community of labour only joins him with his fellows, but also the -general tone of thought and feeling. This type of life is not one -without sacrifice; for it has to give up many things which in earlier -times seemed a secure possession and were a source of joy. Yet these -things were only illusions which vanished, and mankind seems to find a -compensation, more than equivalent for all that has been lost, in that -it is more closely united and through this wins new powers; and -henceforth out of its own capacity can venture to take up the struggle -against every irrationality of existence, and to advance its own -well-being without constraint. A life is therefore evolved, conscious of -its limits, but at the same time active and courageous. - -In this manner, then, transcending all subjective opinions and wishes, a -distinctive social culture has arisen, and its growth and results are -clearly evident to us. Through combination of forces and through -diligent activity on behalf of one another, and this with the aid of a -highly evolved technique, we have brought about a magnificent elevation -of our being; necessity and disease have been successfully fought -against; the standard of education and the amount and kind of joy in -life have been raised in many ways; in life and suffering men have been -drawn together inwardly and associated together with a greater degree of -solidarity. If one accepts the creed of the socialistic movement in the -narrower sense: that human society can be placed on a new basis and at -the same time raised essentially in its achievement, one can conceive -that social culture may grow to the comprehensiveness of culture in -general, and arouse the hope of a kingdom of reason among men. - - * * * * * - -But here also there is a limit set to things, not from without, but from -within; not from a rationalising criticism, but through the actual facts -of the life of humanity. This limit appears with especial clearness when -we consider the relation of the individual, together with his work, to -the society in which he stands. If social culture should be regarded as -absolute culture, the individual must spend himself solely and entirely -in relation to his environment; all his activity and endeavour must be -exerted in achievement for this culture--must, indeed, be regarded as a -mere part of a common work. In such a system man could never attain an -independent position and a superior right in opposition to society. Let -us examine whether the experience of history establishes the truth of -this system or whether it does not much rather show the opposite to be -more correct. - -It was only in the earliest state of culture, and under very simple -conditions of life, that the individual was solely and entirely bound up -with the social organism, simply a member of family, of tribe, and such -like; entirely swayed by custom, authority, and tradition. All further -evolution was a differentiation and led to the greater independence of -the individual. There came a time, however, when, in contrast with his -mere membership of the society, the individual felt himself to have -arrived at a state of maturity; when he questioned the right of the -traditional order, and ultimately found himself coming into opposition -with the whole of society; his own thought thus became the chief basis -of his life and the measure of all things. At first that may have -appeared an impious break and a destructive negation; in reality, the -positive results which have been thus effected could never have been -produced out of a mere revolt. For, a deepening of life in all its -branches went hand in hand with the individual's attainment of -independence; now, for the first time, Religion developed a personal -religious experience, and Art filled man's whole soul; now only did -Science set a distinctive world of thought in opposition to the -traditional presentation; and so the whole of life gained enormously in -independence, mobility, and depth. How could this point have been -reached if an immediate relation to reality had not emerged in the soul -of man; if an inner world had not been formed from this reality, as the -representative of which the individual might feel superior to the -society and, from inner necessities, criticise the prevailing condition -of things? The fact is that all deepening of culture, all awakening of -life to self-consciousness, is a rising above the life of society, a -summoning of the individual to creative activity. Never have real -advances in Religion, Science, and Art, or great transformations of -life, originated out of a combination of the activities of the majority. -Only in isolated cases has an incomparable individuality, supreme in the -entire range of creative activity, been reached, and spiritual tasks -been treated as ends in themselves, without which there is nothing -great. Only out of the necessity of spiritual self-preservation, only as -an overcoming of intolerable contradictions within our own being, could -creative activity find a sure direction and a lofty self-confidence in -order to lead the whole of humanity along new paths. The individuals in -whom this was accomplished were, to be sure, under many influences from -historico-social life; but, to overlook the essential elevation above -the entire domain of merely human interests into a realm of -self-conscious truth, which was accomplished by these individuals, one -must confuse the conditions with spiritual activity itself. - -As this spiritual life has transcended social life from the beginning, -in the same way its effects are by no means exhausted in that life. It -has, it is true, exerted its activity upon the social environment, and, -after the initial opposition has been overcome, has often been -superabundantly honoured; but even so, it has been accepted in isolated -and external relations rather than in the whole of its being, and in its -appropriation through society it is apt to lose what is best in it. Ever -anew, even after centuries and centuries, it has attracted aspiring -souls to itself, and has always been able to offer something new to -them; in fact, in its essence it stands not in time but above it. The -more such genuine creative activity and production in all its spheres -become unified, the more a kingdom of truth spreads like an arch over -the whole machinery of human history, and, measured by the standards of -that truth, human standards are seen to be extremely low, like the size -of the earth when contrasted with the region of the fixed stars. This -realm of eternal truth, however, reveals itself immediately only to the -soul of the individual, who must convey it to society. - -Such an estimate of spiritual depth in the individual is quite -compatible with the fact that in the course of history the individual -has often fallen into utter uncertainty; has felt destitute and lonely, -and has passionately sought a support in society. For the individual may -cut himself adrift from the invisible connections in which his greatness -is rooted; he may base himself on his own isolated power and groping -intellect. When he has indeed done this, he has soon perceived and -experienced his insufficiency; after such experience he has longed for -the building up of a new society by spiritual activity, and when this -has been attained he has fled to it as to a sure haven. Men strove for -such a society in the later period of Antiquity; one such was founded by -Early Christianity, by which the centre of life was transferred from the -individual to the society. But in this transition the individual did not -again become simply a member of society. For the new union that was -sought could not come to men from without, but could proceed only as a -result of spiritual endeavour; for its origin and in the early stages -of its life it required great creative personalities of the kind of -Augustine; for its preservation it needed appropriation by individuals, -who unless they made an independent decision could not come to a -complete knowledge of the truth. Wherever such individual activity -languished, the inwardness of life at once became weak; the whole -threatened to lose its spiritual nature and to be transformed into mere -mechanism. But after, in the course of history, the individual has -developed so far as experience shows him to have done; after that, as -microcosm, he has found an immediate relation to reality and to himself, -his transcendence may for a time be obscured, but he can never be -deprived of it. As the individual has grown strong only as the -representative and champion of a culture that is spiritual, as opposed -to one that is merely human, so at the same time that spiritual culture -asserts itself and criticises all which limits man to his own sphere. -After having attained a greater comprehensiveness, a pure -self-existence, and other standards toilsomely enough, a narrowly social -culture must be absolutely intolerable to us. - -This assertion is valid especially in regard to the social culture of -the present. That culture, as we saw, makes significant and justifiable -demands which have arisen from historical conditions; but its right -gives place to error, if these demands are made the central point of -life as a whole, and everything else subordinated to them. The -unsatisfactoriness of this system of culture and the impossibility of -achieving its aims would be still more manifest if it did not constantly -supplement its own results out of the other organisations of life, and -did not boldly and unjustifiably idealise the man of experience. - -This social culture may be shortly described in some of its tendencies: -(1) Work for society was the compelling motive in the shaping of this -life of social utility. Some such social principle may suffice for the -distribution of goods; it never suffices for their original production. -We saw how spiritual experience can arise only from the compulsion of an -inner self-preservation, in which man does not think in the least of -the effects on others, but of himself and the object. Only that effort -which has sprung up without regard to its mere utility has been able to -achieve great things. If, therefore, merely social culture rigidly binds -up vital energy with the direction of all thoughts on the effect, in the -long run it must seriously degrade life. Can we deny that in the chief -departments of the spiritual life the present already clearly shows -tendencies to such a degradation? And can this be otherwise when we only -more widely diffuse the inherited possession, but are unable to increase -it through our own activity? - -(2) Social culture makes the judgment of the society the test of all -truth and requires from the individual a complete subordination. It can -do this, as we saw, only under the assumption that reason is summed in a -judgment by the people as a whole; but, in face of the experiences of -history and the impressions of the present time, can this assumption be -ratified? Upon its emergence, truth has nearly always been championed by -a minority so small as to be hardly discernible; and what in its case is -called victory is usually nothing else than the transforming of the -struggle from an external into an internal one. He who continues firm in -his faith in the victory of truth does so because he trusts, not so much -in the wisdom of the majority as in a reason transcending all that is -empirically human, and which begets a truth with power to constrain. The -present gives us the opportunity of testing this assertion by an -example. We see movements of the masses in plenty, but where do we see -great spiritual creations arise from the resulting chaos? Even Socialism -in the narrower sense has to thank but a few men for its vital power and -character, as, for example, Marx; the masses are indeed a condition and -an environment, but never as such the bearers of creative activity. - -(3) Where man, as he is, governs all thought, his well-being, his -complacency, an existence as free from care as possible, and as rich as -possible in pleasure, will become the highest of all aims. But would not -one find an inner emptiness, a monotony, even more intolerable than any -suffering if this aim were reached and life were freed from all pain -and necessity? Intelligible as it is that, to the classes whose life is -spent in hard struggle against necessity and care, the deliverance from -these appears the highest good and an assurance of complete happiness, -it is just as unintelligible that anyone who is conscious of the work of -universal history and the inner movement of humanity can share such a -belief. For that movement has given rise to difficult problems and -severe conflicts within the soul of man; a wrestling for a truth and a -content of life, where we now drift hither and thither on the surface of -appearance; a longing for infinity and eternity, where now a finitude -and a past fascinate and charm us; a clashing together of freedom and -destiny, of nature and spirit. The tendencies and tasks which this -movement produces may for a time be thrust into the background, but they -continually reappear and claim their right. It is a foolish undertaking -to try to make man happy by directing him to give up what is distinctive -in him, and to give his striving a less worthy character. - -(4) From a radical improvement of the conditions of life, the -socialistic way of thinking expects a continuous advance of culture and -an increasing ennoblement of man. To some extent this expectation would -be justified if a strong spiritual impulse and a sure tendency towards -the good were found everywhere; if it were only a matter of opening the -door to an inner striving that was everywhere operative; only a matter -of removing restrictions. The actual picture of human conditions -corresponds but little to such an optimism. How small a place spiritual -impulse has in human conduct and effort! How wearisome to the -indifferent and reluctant average man any thought of spiritual goods -becomes, and what severe restrictions moral development meets with in -selfishness, avarice, and jealousy! The impressions which reality gives -speak too plainly in regard to this for even the believers in -socialistic culture to be able to hide the facts from themselves; but it -is noteworthy enough that not that which they see with their eyes and -grasp with their hands determines their judgment, but that which, -unconsciously, they add to it: an invisible humanity, a greatness and a -dignity of human nature, a nobility in the depths of the soul; -conceptions for which, in this context, there is not the least -justification. - -All these considerations show clearly enough the limits of simply -socialistic culture, and the sharp contradictions of its adherents. This -culture only throws man back increasingly upon the merely human, and -unmercifully holds him firmly fixed in it. It chains him to his own -appearance and suppresses all tendencies towards depth. It knows nothing -of life's consciousness of itself; it knows no inner problems, no -infinite development of the soul; it cannot acknowledge a common life of -an inner kind, but must derive all from external relations. At the same -time it excludes all understanding of the movement of universal history; -for the chief content of this movement constitutes just those problems -which Socialism regards as foolish delusions. To be sure, the striving -after an inner independence of life has brought much error with it, and -it may involve much that is problematical. But that a longing after such -independence should arise at all and prove itself able to call forth so -much endeavour sufficiently demonstrates that man is more than a mere -being of society; more than a member of a social organism. - -Ultimately, socialistic culture presupposes, in its own development, a -greater depth of life than it is itself able to produce. It can make so -much out of its data only because it assumes in them a more -comprehensive and a deeper world of thought. Like Naturalism, Socialism -reaches a tolerable conclusion only by much plagiarism from the old -Idealism, before the principal conceptions of which it crosses itself as -before something atrocious. - -This inner inconsistency of socialistic culture, its remaining bound up -with something which inwardly it contradicts, is most plainly shown by -the historical experience of the Modern Age. Men were at first led to -take up the movements towards the strengthening of society chiefly by -the expectation that the invisible forces in human existence would be -invigorated, and by the hope that the inner life of men would be raised. -The more they have cut themselves adrift from these invisible -connections and have placed themselves simply on the basis of experience -the more have they lost in spiritual content. - -The movement towards the modern free State arose in association with -religious strivings; the desire for political independence attached -itself to and inwardly grew from the longing for more complete equality -before God. The more this relation to Religion and, further, to an -invisible realm receded into the background, the more difficult did it -become to guard the striving for freedom from being diverted in the -interests of individuals, classes, and parties; the more did the -movement inwardly lose by external expansion. We saw that the idea of -nationality acquired power from the conviction that there results in an -independent people an individualisation of the spiritual and divine -which is the first thing to ensure to existence a definite character and -a firm support. So long as this conviction predominated, each people had -a great inner task in reaching the highest point of development of its -nature, and, what is more important, did not need to direct its energies -upon externals. With the obscuring or the complete surrender of this -spiritual foundation, a blind adoration of one's own country, an -increase of unfruitful pride of race, a passionate struggle for external -expansion and power, inevitably accompanied by the surrender of humanity -and justice, threatens us. - -When in the nineteenth century the modern idea of the State again came -into currency, the State came to be regarded--as, for example, in the -system of Hegel--as the realisation of an absolute reason, and desired -to be honoured as something "earthly divine." Its leading -administrators, however, men of the kind of Altenstein, were imbued with -the philosophic spirit; were men who could be regarded as philosophers -in Plato's sense. To-day we still hear of such spiritual bases of the -State, in syllabuses of courses of study; but we count so little on a -philosophical training that when anyone gives any sign of such a -training he is regarded with astonishment as a rare exception. Even the -socialistic movement in the narrower sense, the longing for an economic -revolution, at first stood in close connection with philosophical -endeavours, and the hope of an inner ennobling of humanity, the hope of -raising the whole of culture, worked in it as a powerful motive force. -More and more, out of this a mere desire for power and enjoyment has -developed, a passionate struggle of class against class, of interest -against interest, and how this might lead to an inner elevation of -humanity is not apparent. The more socialistic culture, in its pressing -forward, has cut itself loose from a richer and more inward culture and -has trusted solely to its own resources, the more distinct have its -limitations become, the more has its incapacity to include the whole of -human existence been made evident. - -To assert this does not mean to depreciate the significance of the facts -which the social tendency has made us conscious of and the tasks which -it has imposed upon us. Not only do the advance into prominence of the -economic side of life, and the desire for a more energetic realisation -of a social organisation in this direction, remain unimpeached, but -there are demands of an imperative kind which extend beyond the scope of -this narrow conception. The increasing isolation and separation of -individuals make us feel the desire for reunion more and more strongly. -Man, with that which is near him and in him, acquires an ever greater -significance for the shaping of our life and our world; from no other -point of departure than from him can we attempt to reach the depths of -reality and from these to build up a realm of reason. - -Socialistic culture, however, treats these problems, to which it gives -rise, far too externally and too meanly to hold out any hope that its -method can lead to their solution; and so, as we see it immediately -before us, it brings truth and error into a melancholy mixture. Only a -broader conception of life could bring about a differentiation and give -to each factor its right. In this case also the promised solution of the -problem is seen to be itself a problem. - - -3. THE SYSTEM OF ÆSTHETIC INDIVIDUALISM - -The naturalistic and socialistic tendencies unite in the modern life of -culture for action in common. How near they stand to each other, -notwithstanding all their differences, our accounts of them will have -shown. Not only do both make the world of sense the sole world of man, -but both also find life entirely in the relation to the environment, be -it nature or society. Again, both maintain that all happiness arises -from work upon this environment, whether the work be in the main -scientific and technical, or practical and political. Thus the culture -of both systems bears throughout the character of a culture of work; in -one as in the other great complexes of work arise, and draw the -individual to themselves; all trouble and effort are for the sake of the -result; in both a restless progressive movement surrounds us and directs -all reflection and thought to a better future. With such a tendency we -have grown closer to the environment and we have ascribed more value to -the world and to life. With an ever-increasing activity, a proud -self-consciousness has developed in humanity. - -But the limitations and defects of such a culture, centred as it is upon -results, could not remain concealed. The age, alert and fond of -reflecting upon its own nature, has been compelled more and more to -perceive the negation that accompanied the assertion made in that -system. The striving for results alone made care for the soul -impossible; the being fitted into a complex whole impaired the -development to complete individuality. The more industrial and social -activities have become specialised, the less significant has that part -of human existence become which is embodied in the individual as such, -the more have all aspects of his nature other than those involved in -his work degenerated. The continual thought of the future, the impetuous -movement ever onward and onward, also threatens to destroy all -appreciation of the present, all self-consciousness and independence of -life. If we exist merely in order to serve as means and instruments to a -soulless process of culture, does not the whole enormous movement -finally amount to nothing, if it is not experienced and appropriated? - -Once such questions arise and make man concerned about the meaning and -the happiness of his life, a sudden change must soon take place. Man may -at all times fall into error concerning the aims of the culture of work; -indeed, concerning work itself. It may appear to him as something which, -originally his own creation, has broken loose from him, placed itself in -opposition to him, enslaved him, and finally, like a gigantic spider, -threatens to suck his life's blood. From this point of view it may be -regarded as the most important of all tasks again to become master of -work, and to preserve a life inwardly conscious of itself, in contrast -with the tendency of work to occupy itself solely with externals; to -realise a true present in contrast with the restless hurry onward and -onward; a quietness and a depth of the soul in contrast with work's -bustle and agitation. To those with such a conviction the culture of -work must seem sordid, secular, profane, and in contrast a longing for -more inspiration, more soul, more permanent splendour of life will -arise. - -Many movements of this kind make themselves apparent in the present; the -longing for a return of life to itself, for more joy and more depth in -life, grows ever stronger and stronger. Of all these movements, however, -one stands out with definite achievement--one which, upon the basis of -the present and with the means of sense experience, seeks a remedy -which, while in these two aspects it shares the general initial -assumption of the culture of work, within the limits of this assumption -is entirely opposed to this culture of work. We mean the system of -Subjectivism and Individualism. In that this system is blended with a -kind of art of its own, and gains strength from this, it boldly -undertakes to govern and shape our whole existence. - -He who wishes to rise above the culture of work without transcending the -region of experience will scarcely discover any other basis than the -individual with his self-consciousness, his "being-for-self." For, -however far work with its influences may penetrate into the innermost -recesses of the soul, there always remains something which is able to -resist it. Something original seems to spring up here, which fits into -no scheme and bows down to no external power. - -If, therefore, a newly aroused longing for greater immediacy and -happiness in life drives man once more to the subjective and to the -individual, he can emphasise this factor conceptually in order to -depreciate the other systems of life. For, whether the individual -belongs to an invisible world of thought or to a visible structure, his -task and his worth is then assigned to him by the whole; his activity -will have a definite direction determined by the whole, and his power -will be called into play only so far as it fitted into the framework of -the whole organisation. If all such relation to the whole is discarded, -and the individual becomes bold enough to place himself simply upon his -own capacity, and to acknowledge no other standard than his own -decision, an infinite course seems to open up before him. What lies in -him is now able to develop with complete freedom, and he need take -neither a visible nor an invisible order into anxious consideration. The -individual, raised to such sovereignty, will make far more out of -himself, and will mean far more than the narrow and often over-awed -individual of earlier ages. True, even in earlier times opposition from -the individual was not lacking, but the circumstances of the Modern Age -are especially conducive to his development and recognition. We know how -the modern man extricated himself from the ties which bound him, and how -he boldly placed himself in opposition to the world. We know how much -more freely thought rules in modern life; how much more deeply an -over-subtle reflection penetrates everywhere and takes all stability -from things. We know, too, how the external form of civilisation, with -its acceleration of intercourse, and its development in a thousand -directions, sets the individual more free. Is it to be wondered at if -the modern individual regards himself as the centre and undertakes to -shape the whole of life from himself? - -The individual can attain complete independence only when he liberates -his soul from all external connections, from every objective relation, -and, as a free subject, simply lives his own states of consciousness. -This is achieved above all in the disposition--transcending all form and -shape and bound to no particular object--which has obtained an -independent position chiefly as a result of the Romantic movement. In -this a complete detachment of life, an inward infinity, and a complete -independence seem attained; every individual has his own course and his -own truth; no limit is set to life, no command given, but he can with -the utmost freedom develop every impulse and exhaust its possibilities -according to its nature. Thus a life arises, profuse and extremely -active: a life fine and delicate in nature; a life which is in no way -directed beyond itself. - -But all agitation, profuseness, and refinement could hardly have -prevented this emotional life from becoming hollow, if, when it turned -to the individual, it had not united to itself another movement, which -is flowing with a powerful current through the age. We mean the movement -towards art, and beyond that towards an æsthetic conception of life. -From ancient times there has always been an antithesis of an ethical and -an æsthetical fashioning of life: of a preponderance on the one hand of -the active, on the other hand of the contemplative relation to reality. -Emphasis on the activity of man has led to the formation in modern -systems of life of a culture of work and utility. An æsthetical, -contemplative mode of thought can with good reason feel itself superior -to that culture. In contrast to utility, it promises beauty; over -against the heaviness and weariness of the way of life of a culture of -work, it promises a joy and a lightness; in opposition to effort, -hurriedly and continually striving further and further, it promises an -independent self-consciousness, and an inward calm. But, as this -movement towards art blends with that towards the subject it lapses into -a narrow course and assumes a distinctive character. Here, art has less -to comprehend the object than to stimulate and please the subject; it -will strive less after content and a further construction than with -lyrical cadences, to give expression to changing moods. It has a -difficult task given to it which can only approximately be solved--the -task of expressing something fundamentally inexpressible and resisting -all attempts to give it form. But in that art undertakes such an -impossibility, and exerts its power to the uttermost, it brings about a -refinement of the soul as well as an enrichment of expression. It -enables much to be grasped and comprehended which, without it, passes -like a fleeting shadow. It permits the observation of the most delicate -vibrations of the soul, and throws light into depths which would -otherwise be inaccessible. - -A distinctive type of life is thus formed from the side of literature -and art, and this feels securely supreme over all the embarrassments of -the culture of work and of the masses. The centre of life is transferred -into the inner tissue of self-consciousness. With the development of -this self-consciousness, life appears to be placed entirely on its own -resources and directed simply towards itself. Through all change of -circumstances and conditions it remains undisturbed; in all the infinity -of that which happens to it, it feels that it is supreme. All external -manifestation is valuable to it as an unfolding of its own being; it -never experiences things, but only itself--that is, its own passive -states of consciousness--in the things. - -A life of such a kind gives rise, in different directions, to -distinctive tendencies, which, through their antithesis to the -traditional forms, are sharply accentuated. This system thinks -especially to turn the whole of human existence into something -positive, to limit it on none of its sides, to raise it everywhere to -activity, joy, and pleasure. In the older systems of life, especially in -the religious, it finds far too much feeble renunciation, far too much -sad negation: such a depreciation of life is henceforth to give way to a -complete and joyful affirmation. But an affirmation appears to be -possible because in this system, through that reference to and -excitement of subjectivity, all that in any way affects man is -transformed in activity and advance; because before all else the subject -feels its own life in every experience and takes pleasure in this. It -must be added that the self-refinement of life, its mobility and -delicacy, free it from all the heaviness of existence, and that the free -play of forces which exist here transforms the whole of existence into -something lightly poised. We find this to be especially the case when we -turn to art, which joins beauty to power, or, rather, strengthens life -in itself through its embodiment in the beautiful. - -This free, joyous, and as it would seem purely self-conscious life is -throughout of an aristocratic and individual character. In that it is -adapted to the old experience, that to only a few is given the power and -the disposition for independent creation and independent life, it -addresses itself to these few and summons them to the greatest possible -development of the individuality of their nature, to the most decisive -detachment from the characterless average of the masses. For, without a -completely developed consciousness of individuality, without an -energetic differentiation and isolation, life does not seem to attain -its greatest height. Thus the matter is one of making all the relations -and all the externals of life as individual as possible. Everything -which places the development of life under universal standards, and, -through these, limits that development, is rejected as an unwarrantable -limitation and an intolerable restriction. This individualising of our -existence extends also to the matter of our relation to time. One moment -may not be sacrificed to another; the present may not be degraded to the -status of being a mere preparation for the future, but every moment -should be an end in itself, and, with this, life is considered as being -solely in the present. And so life is a ceaseless change, a perpetual -self-renewal, a continuous transition; but it is just this which -preserves to life its youthful freshness and gives to it the capacity to -attract through every new charm. Hence this system presents the most -definite contrast to the interminable chain and the gigantic -construction which the culture of work makes out of the activities of -the individuals. - -Æsthetic Individualism appears most distinctive in the way it represents -the relation between the spiritual and the sensuous. It cannot take its -attention from the external world, in order to centre it upon human -perception, without strengthening the psychical. But, as its own system -is based upon sense experience, it is impossible for it to acknowledge -an independent spirituality and to contrast it with the sensuous; the -spirituality which it recognises always remains bound and blended with -the sensuous. For it an entirely mutual interpenetration is the highest -ideal, a spiritualising of the sensuous, and a sensualising of the -spiritual to an exactly equivalent degree. This high estimate of the -sensuous, and the endeavour to harmonise the spiritual with it, put this -new system of life in the sharpest opposition to the older systems, -especially to religious Idealism, in which the supremacy of the -spiritual is essential. - -From such a basal character this system evolves a distinctive relation -to the individual values and spheres of life. Artistic literary creation -becomes the soul of life; the source of the influences for the -fashioning of a new man. The social, political, sphere is reduced to the -level of a mere outside world, which urges less to activity on our own -part than provokes a sceptical and critical attitude. The lack of -attention to all that which fits man into a common order, be it into the -State with its laws, or the civic community with its customs and -arrangements, permits the free relation of individual to individual in -social contact, friendship and love, to develop so much more -forcefully. In particular, it is the inter-relationship of the sexes, -with its many-sidedness and its inseparable interweaving of spirituality -with sensuousness, which occupies thought and dominates literary -production. Strike out the erotic element from specifically modern -literature, and how insignificant the remainder would appear! It is also -in the relation of the sexes that this scheme of life insists on the -fullest freedom. There is a marked tendency to regard an acknowledgment -of fixed standards and of traditional morals in this connection as a -sign of weakness and of a narrow-minded way of thinking. - -Since this scheme seeks to realise an æsthetic conception of life and an -artistic culture in opposition to all the restraint of tradition and -environment, it will come into particularly severe conflict with -traditional religion and morality. It must reject religion, or at least -what hitherto has been called religion, because, with its blending -together of the spiritual and the sensuous in a single world, it can by -no means acknowledge a world of independent spirituality; its thought is -much too "monistic" for that. It must reject religion also for the -reason that, with its immediate affirmation of life, it cannot in the -least understand the starting-point of religion, the experience and -perception of harsh inner contradictions in our existence. Religion, -with all the heroism that it truly shows, is here regarded as a mere -lowering of vital energy; a chimera which pleases the weak. - -In relation to morality the matter is not much different. A foundation -of morality in the necessity of its own nature is lacking in this -system. What motive could move a man who whole-heartedly accepted -Æsthetic Individualism to acknowledge something external to the subject -as a standard, and in accordance with this standard to put a check upon -his natural impulses? Indeed, with the denial of spiritual activity and -the division of the world into for and against, the entire antithesis of -good and evil loses its meaning and its justification. Reality appears -from the point of view of this system to be rent in twain in an -unwarrantable manner at the command of a human authority. What is -usually called morality is considered to be only a statute of the -community, a means by which it seeks to rob the individual of his -independence and to subordinate him to itself. - -All this reasoning presents itself as an offspring of our own time, and -wishes to establish the correctness of its claims on its own ground -through its results. Yet it by no means lacks historical relations: -often in the course of the centuries the subject has shaken off every -constraint and sought a solution to life's problems in its own realm. -This happened, first among the Sophists; then in a form less marked and -with more direct attention to happiness in Epicureanism; later, in proud -exaltation and in a titanic struggle with the world, in the Renaissance; -and again in a more delicate and more contemplative manner in the -Romantic period. Tendencies from all these operate in the Æsthetic -Individualism of the present time and enrich it in many ways, though -their contributions are not always free from contradiction. But, even -with these historical elements, Æsthetic Individualism is essentially a -modern product; and it cannot be denied that it has won a great power in -the present; a movement of culture in this direction is unmistakeable. -It is the very nature of this scheme of life not to hasten to a definite -form, and for this reason it does not manifest itself with very definite -features; but, with invisible power, it is everywhere present and -creates a spiritual atmosphere from which it is difficult to withdraw -ourselves. Notwithstanding all the attacks it is subjected to and the -doubts as to its validity, it draws power continually from both the main -tendencies which it unites; from the evolution of the subject and from -the growth of art. Thus, here again we are concerned not with mere -subjective willing and wishing, but with an actual movement in universal -history. - -Whether this movement be the primary and the all-dominant remains to be -examined by consideration of the total possessions of humanity. Such an -examination is in this case peculiarly difficult, because in -Individualism and Subjectivism diverse forms mingle together and give to -the movement very different levels. There is, therefore, an obvious -danger that, viewing these forms from the position of an average level, -at which we may attempt to arrive, we may judge one too severely and -another too leniently. And yet we cannot dispense with the assumption of -such an average level; only, it must not be applied mechanically to the -individual forms which are so numerous. - -In forming our judgment in this matter, it is necessary in the first -place to distinguish the aims and the methods of the scheme of life. -There can hardly be any doubt or dispute concerning the aims. For, if we -are called to give to life an independence, a content and a value; to -raise it to complete power; to press forward from anxious negation to -joyful affirmation; to reduce the monotony of existence; to organise the -whole realm of individuality so that it shall be fully clear; and if, at -the same time, the fact of the degeneration of the inner life through a -culture of work lends to such demands the impressiveness and the voice -of a present need, it is difficult to see how this system is to be -effectively opposed. Æsthetic Individualism here appears as the champion -of truths which may be obscured for a time, but which, nevertheless, -continually gain in significance in human evolution as a whole. A -further question is whether its aims, which cannot be rejected, are -attainable along the ways which Individualism follows and beyond which -it is not able to go; whether the means suffice for the attainment of -the end. If this should not be the case, we are in presence of a great -difficulty, in that something, in itself of the highest necessity, is -desired, but is desired in a way which not only is inadequate to the -aim, but directly contradicts it. - -And yet that is how the matter really stands. It is essential to -Individualism--with this it stands or falls--that it lead to an -independent life, to a self-consciousness; that it transform our whole -condition into something of positive value on the basis of sense -experience. That the actual condition of human reality, the nature of -human experience, inexorably resists such a transformation, and that on -this account the individualistic scheme of life is contradictory, we -intend to indicate more in detail. - -Man desires a self-conscious life, a deliverance from all external ties, -a removal of all oppressions. This desire is a lofty one, but one which, -as things are, is very difficult of attainment. For not only in what -happens to us, but also in the innermost depths of the soul--in our -spiritual constitution--we are bound up with an overwhelming and -impenetrable world. The mechanism of nature as well as the organisation -of society surrounds and visibly and invisibly coerces us. At first -sight we are no more than parts of an immense whole, and appear to be -completely determined by that which happens in this whole; we come from -it and sink back into it, and every moment we are dependent upon that -which takes place around us. What is Individualism able to do against -such forces, and what does it succeed in achieving towards life's -attainment of independence? The means it employs are the arousing of an -unrestrained mood, and the withdrawal of life to the greatest possible -concentration in its own passive states of consciousness. Because by -these means man is in some measure relieved from the oppression of -things, he imagines himself to be fully free. But is he free simply -because he appears to himself to be so; free, to take the example of -Spinoza, in the way in which the stone thrown up into the air might -during its motion suppose itself to be free? As a matter of fact, as -everyday experience shows us, it is just in his moods that man is least -stable and least lord of his own soul, and that the most diverse -circumstances, physical and psychical, visible and invisible, great and -small, influence and compel him. The transitoriness of appearances, -which form the matter of fact as far as moods are concerned, is lacking -in all firm relation, all inner construction of life; for nothing is -more mobile, nothing more subject to sudden changes, than mood--nothing -except the surface of the rolling sea, or a reed shaking in the wind. -The life of mood is, in reality, a purely superficial life; a projection -of the psychical nature on to the surface of the immediate passive -states of consciousness. Life in this case attains no depth, content, or -independence, but only subjective opinion, the mere semblance of -independence. We shall see that Individualism so persistently offers the -semblance instead of the real thing that it has come to believe that -with the production of the semblance it has acquired the reality. Life -can only attain a real independence when it has been widened to a realm -in itself, when inner relations, antitheses, problems thus become -evident; and when, through the exercise of activity upon these, an inner -world is raised up, which confidently places itself in opposition to the -endlessness of the soulless world and is able to take up the struggle -with it. We must show unrelenting hostility to any attempt to identify -mood with inner spirituality, with the soul's self-consciousness; for, -really, there is no greater contrast than that between simple -disposition and spiritual depth, between the man of mere sentiment, with -his dependence and vacillation, and the personality rooted in an inner -infinity. - -And so the independence and the predominance of the individual over the -social environment, which Individualism asserts, are nothing more than -an appearance. For what is offered in this system is far less a -self-conscious life and an undisturbed pursuance of our own course than -the inclination to say and do the opposite of that which is said and -done by the majority of those who surround us. It is easy to see that -life, as a matter of fact, always remains related to its environment and -to the standard of that environment; and that what is represented here -as independence is nothing but a different kind of dependence, an -indirect dependence. To the endeavour of Individualism to provide a free -course for the individual with his particularity it is scarcely possible -to offer any opposition. Unfortunately, however, intention and -realisation are different things, and Individualism is apt to assume as -something simple and self-evident that which of all things is the most -difficult, that is, individuality itself. Just as Socialism promises a -sure advance of life as a result of the removal of external hindrances, -so Individualism expects a magnificent advance of an inexhaustible -individualistic culture, if only the statutes by which the community -oppresses and limits the individual are annulled. What, then, is the -real state of the matter? Are men so full of spiritual impulse that it -is only necessary to open up a course for it? And further, does that -which is peculiar in a man signify, as a matter of course, that he is an -individuality with some sort of value?--and is it at once capable of -forming a centre of life? How indefinite and how lacking in consistency -the psychical nature of man usually is! How much that is lofty and how -much that is mean, how much that is noble and how much that is vulgar, -is found here! Shall this chaos display itself and be extolled as an -individuality? In truth, an inner unity appertains to a genuine -individuality, and the ascertaining and realisation of this are not -simply a gift from nature, but a result of spiritual endeavour. To -attain to a genuine individuality requires an energetic concentration of -life; an overcoming of the spirit of indifference; a unifying of the -multiplicity of experience; often, also, a transcending of sharp -contradictions. How difficult it has been for even the most prominent -individualities--men such as Luther, Kant, Goethe--to find their true -selves, that is, the essence of their being, the aspect in which their -strength lay! How great a problem, and what an object of the keenest -conflict, their genuine individuality formed to them! How could a task -of such difficulty find fulfilment, and life a unification and -elevation, in superficial and fleeting mood? If in order to make men -independent individuals it sufficed to declare them so, we should indeed -be much further advanced than unfortunately is the case. - -The new life ought not to be simply autonomous, independent and -individual, it should also be powerful and great. Is the mere evolution -and cultivation of sentiment able to give such power and greatness to an -unrestrained passivity? Of course, in its own estimation unrestrained -mood can raise itself high above the whole world, and so magnify the -supposed independence as to give rise to a feeling of supreme power; but -again, it is only a representation of power, a semblance of power, and -not a real power, that is reached. Mere mood and genuine power -constitute an irreconcilable antithesis. Attention to and cultivation of -sentiment may refine life; it will at the same time weaken and dissipate -it. Power develops and grows only in grappling with resistances, whether -they be outside or within one's own soul. Life will acquire a powerful -character only where an active spirituality is acknowledged, which, -drawing from its own nature, holds up standards and aims to the actual -condition of reality, especially to its own soul, and undertakes to -change this condition in accordance with the requirements set by these -standards and aims. Æsthetic Individualism, however, as we saw, -conceives of the spiritual life as chiefly receptive and contemplative; -as an appropriation, a mirroring and an enjoyment of an existent -reality. Thus for it the spiritual life might be closely connected with -this existent reality, indeed might be one with it; but at the same time -the view robs that life of the power of arousing and elevating, of -independent construction and secure advance. - -An aristocratic character, the separation of an exoteric and an esoteric -sphere, has been distinctive of an æsthetic conception of life from -ancient times even until now. The fact appealed to in justification of -its assumption of this character is beyond doubt: it is that, not only -in art but in all spiritual creation, only few among those creating or -reproducing stand high; that genuine creation always comes about in -opposition to the mediocre; that if it identified itself with the -interests and conditions of the majority it would be deeply degraded, -indeed inwardly destroyed. But this is a contrast between spiritual -creation and human circumstances, not a division of humanity according -to two sets of circumstances; in truth, fewer of the really great than -of those great in their own estimation have boasted of greatness. For -the genuinely great have been occupied far too much by the demands of -their task, and been too deeply conscious of the inadequacy of human -capacity, to have been able to indulge in a reflection upon and a vain -enjoyment of themselves. The infinity of the task by which, rather than -by other men, they measured themselves made even the highest result -appear inadequate to them. It is necessary to Individualism to represent -the unmistakeable distinction between a culture that is genuinely -spiritual and one that is merely human, as a difference between two -classes of men; and it is only because it knows no objective restraint, -no inner necessities, and can measure men only with men, that it is able -to believe itself justified in looking down upon other men from its -standpoint--as though the mere profession of faith in its programme at -once effected an elevation of nature. - -The undertaking to transform life completely into something of positive -value, suddenly and directly to advance to complete affirmation of life, -is associated with the desire for power. So far as this is simply a -desire to abandon an irresolute and narrow mode of thought, false -humiliation and self-belittlement, and mere accommodation to -circumstances in tasks where the beginning is difficult and calls for -great effort, we may frankly admit its justification. But the matter is -not so simple as it is represented in this train of thought. Ultimately -no spiritual movement which would win mankind can give up its claim to a -final affirmation of life. Even the most completely pessimistic systems, -systems of absolute negation--as, for example, the original -Buddhism--could not conquer wider areas without making that negative -milder and transforming it into an affirmative. But the question is -whether, after all that humanity has experienced and suffered, a quick -and immediate affirmation is possible; whether the way to a final -affirmation does not lead rather through an energetic negation. So long -as the restriction which life felt seemed to come from outside only, -and not to reach the inner recesses of the soul, as the prevailing mode -of thought in Antiquity represented the case to be, the decisive -rejection of all suffering, the proud armouring of the soul against all -pain, could be accepted as the crown of all virtues. In face, however, -of actual experience, Antiquity could not continue to hold such a -conviction. For good or for evil, it was compelled to regard suffering -as something more important and to occupy itself more with it, and, -until Christianity opened up new paths, it fell into the danger of -losing all vital energy. Whatever position one may take up with regard -to the dogma and the tendencies of Christianity, the fact cannot be -struck out of history that it has laid bare infinite perplexities in the -soul of man in regard to his relation to the world, and at the same time -has taken up suffering into the centre of life, not to perpetuate it, -but to rise above it by the revealing of a world of spirit and of love. -This has not made life easier, but more difficult; yet at the same time -it has made it greater, deeper, and more inwardly determined. Every -scheme of life which light-heartedly professes to be able to lead us -quickly over suffering and to cast it off proves itself to be -intolerably superficial, if not frivolous. Superficiality easily -triumphs over men and becomes their first opinion; men seem to welcome -first every way of thinking which makes life comfortable and presents no -demands of any sort. But the problems of our existence, and the longing -for genuine and not merely illusory happiness, remain, and in face of -the seriousness of these problems it soon proves to be fleeting and vain -to try to find satisfaction in that which is simply comfortable. - -The case is no different in regard to Individualism and the problem of -morality. The value of an energetic opposition to laws of convention and -external etiquette is beyond question; but it should not be forgotten -that such a conflict has been carried on within the sphere of morality -and religion from ancient times; that in every age that which was -spiritually highest has forcibly withstood the efforts of men -illegitimately to claim absolute validity for their statutes and -tendencies. But Individualism commits the error of asserting that the -mean morality which is reached at the average level of humanity -constitutes the essence of morality, and in so doing excludes from -itself the feeling for everything great and deep which lies within -morality. With all its talk of greatness and breadth, Individualism -makes life narrow, since it leads man solely to the cultivation and -unfolding of his own passive states of consciousness, and permits the -pleasure-seeking _ego_ to draw everything to itself and hold it fast -there. Everything, however, which exists beyond his sphere it interprets -as a mere "other" world, and thus declares all submission to the object -for its own sake, all forgetfulness of self, all becoming more -comprehensive, and all renewal through genuine love, to be only -delusory. Further, in this system, in which natural impulse governs -everything, the conceptions of responsibility and guilt, and with this -the antithesis of good and evil, must be held to be the result of a -narrowly human way of thinking, as something which, though serving no -real purpose, still alarms men and overawes life. Yet through the -development of a spiritual activity which places it in a more inward and -free relation to reality, humanity has really advanced beyond the -position in which man acted as a part of mere nature. In this, too, -Christianity also marks a great advance; we have only to picture to -ourselves the life-work of Augustine in order to have a clear example of -the separation of a genuine morality, as the expression of a new world -based upon freedom, from the attention to and cultivation of natural -instincts. The greatest thinker of the Modern Age, Kant, has only -established this distinction in a newer form. In this connection -responsibility and guilt, as transcending nature, also become a witness -of greatness; they give expression to the fact that man is an -independent co-operator in the universe, and regards the world as in -some sense his own; to the fact that life does not simply happen to him, -but also through him. For, along with freedom and its world, the old -world of given existence remains and holds us fast, not merely -externally but inwardly also; life is a severe conflict between higher -and lower, between freedom and destiny. With so much that is complicated -and perplex, life must be regarded as in the highest degree unfinished. -But just because of this it involves an incalculable tension, and even -in its constraints and pains it leaves the self-preservation and the -welfare of the mere subject at a level far beneath itself. When, -therefore, Individualism, neglecting the movement of universal history, -wishes to limit us to this mere subject, and, effacing all dividing -lines, calls upon us to submit to every force which plays upon us, and -to enter into the glad enjoyment of life, there is really no difference -between this and advising a man, who has gone through the many and -difficult experiences of life, to throw to the winds all he has thus -gained, and to please himself again with the games of childhood. - -The position is similar with regard to the relation of the spiritual and -the sensuous, as Individualism represents it. It is rightly opposed to -both a monkish asceticism and a conventional, feigned, low estimate of -the sensuous; it is indeed with good reason that Æsthetic Individualism -defends the right of the sensuous. But to give the sensuous its right -does not mean to permit it to be joined together in an undifferentiated -unity with the spiritual, as though it were of equal value. Naïve ages -were able to strive for a perfect balance of spiritual and sensuous; -but, with the increasing depth of the life of the soul, a division has -resulted which no toil and no art can simply remove again. Now, -therefore, either the spiritual will be dominant over the sensuous or -the sensuous over the spiritual. In Individualism, with its amalgamation -of the spiritual and the sensuous, by which all claim to spiritual -activity, and therefore to all independence of spiritual life, is given -up, the sensuous will inevitably dominate over the spiritual. The result -is simply a degeneration of the spiritual, a refined sensuousness; and -it is defenceless against an intrusion of vulgar pleasure. Will any one -seriously assert that we find ourselves to-day in a naïve position in -relation to sense? - -In this respect, as in all others, the strength of Individualism lies -chiefly in criticism; its refined perception makes it especially capable -of apprehending clearly the errors of the traditional conceptions of -life. Its influence, however, suffers from the contradiction which it -involves, in that it purposes to solve the problems, to which only an -independent and self-determining spiritual life is equal, with the means -of sense experience. Such a spiritual life is to be attained only by -transcending this sense experience. Owing to the fact that Individualism -places its sole attention upon the surface of sense experience, its -aims, in themselves of the highest necessity, must be distorted and -grossly misrepresented. Independence, greatness, and certainty--ever -hovering before life--cannot be attained by Individualism in reality, -but only in picture and semblance. And it can lend to this appearance a -moderate power of conviction only because, just in the same way as the -other modern organisations of life, it enriches itself imperceptibly -from the same traditional modes of thought and of culture, in opposition -to which it stands, and of which the impelling motives are to it a -sealed book. - -Thus, in truth, it does not offer mere and pure subjectivity, but -subjectivity on the basis of a rich life of culture, which it is itself -unable to produce, but without which it would lapse at once into -complete emptiness. The æsthetic-individualistic scheme of life proves -to be a phenomenon, accompanying a ripe, indeed an over-ripe, culture. -An independent culture, with its labour and its sacrifice, it is unable -to produce. - -To reject Æsthetic Individualism means to attack modern art and its -service to life just as little as to reject Naturalism and Socialism is -to estimate meanly modern natural science and present social endeavour. -On the contrary, it may be said that, as Naturalism has no keener -antagonist than modern natural science, so modern art, with the energy -which is bestowed upon it and with its many-sided expansion of the soul, -stands not in agreement with but in opposition to Æsthetic -Individualism. For, indeed, a creative artist of the first rank has -never subscribed to a merely æsthetic conception of life. Still, however -much artistic endeavour and a merely æsthetic conception of the world -may be associated by the individual, in their nature they remain -differentiated, and no appreciation of art is able to justify the -æsthetic conception of life, which subjects all life to a contradiction; -works against life in striving to attain its own ends; neglects the -development through the centuries; and, instead of the substance hoped -for, offers only opinion and appearance. How can life find a support in -this? - - - - -II. CONSIDERATION OF THE SITUATION AS A WHOLE AND PRELIMINARIES FOR -FURTHER INVESTIGATION - -(a) THE NATURE OF THE NEW AS A WHOLE AND ITS RELATION TO THE OLD - - -From the description that has been given of the modern systems of life, -we have seen that the Modern Age is by no means homogeneous, and that -the conception "modern" has more than one meaning. Culture, in -particular, has a character fundamentally different according as life -finds its basis on the one hand in something external to itself, in -nature, or in society, or on the other hand in the subjective states of -consciousness. But that a common striving is present in spite of every -difference, indeed of every antithesis, is proved by the energy with -which all deny and reject the older form of culture and its -transcendence of sense experience; by the vigour of the struggle against -that which is regarded by the more modern systems as mere phantasy and -deception, but which nevertheless continues to dominate social life. The -kinship of these systems extends, beyond a common acquiescence in a -negation, to a common affirmation. On all sides a thirst after a more -forceful reality, and a more imposing immediacy of life, is to be found. -Sense experience manifests itself throughout as fuller in content and -more plastic; and so the chief point of support is found within it, and, -though in different ways, the whole of life is organised from it. Still, -granted that this could be effected only in opposition to the -traditional conduct of life, the new is by no means desirous of -remaining in a state of mere opposition. It seeks rather to unite the -opposing elements to itself, to adapt them to itself, and to satisfy to -the fullest extent the ideal demands of human nature. It is an attempt -entirely to renew and completely to revolutionise life--a vast -undertaking! Whether it has succeeded, or whether it is still engaged in -bringing the attempt to a successful issue, is the problem that we had -to investigate. - -As far as our chief question is concerned, our result was a decided -negative. True, much that is great and much that may not be lost again -has been achieved. The new systems of life have indeed appropriated -whole groups of facts; have invigorated whole groups with new powers; -have revealed new tasks of the most fruitful kind, not only in the -individual but also for the whole; and have given to life dominating -impulses and a powerful impetus. But all this becomes a doubtful gain, -indeed it threatens to become a loss, if particular experience and -achievement desire to govern the whole of life, and to impress upon it -their own peculiar stamp. Not only does life become intolerably -one-sided in such a case, but its wealth of experience is cut down in -order to fit it into the given framework. We also saw that a serious -inner inconsistency originates. For a long period this inconsistency may -be concealed, but where any great energy is present in life, it must -break forth with a disturbing force and become intolerable. Since the -modern systems regard the whole of life as arising from relation, -whether it be to the environment or to the subjective states of -consciousness, they must reduce everything inward and universal to the -level of a derived and secondary product; they must repudiate and oppose -an original and independent spirituality, a self-conscious inner world. -Such an inner spiritual experience has evolved through the whole of -history, and transcends all forms of life-organisation: it is impossible -to explain it away. The modern systems must themselves experience this. -For they could not possibly transform the abundance of diverse -appearances into an organised whole; they could not pass from universal -to universal, without presupposing and employing the same transcendent -and encompassing inner world, which directly they attack. At the same -time, however, they give to every factor of life a position and a depth -wholly inconsistent with what they are justified in doing with their own -mode of thought. They cannot perform their own tasks without drawing -incessantly upon another kind of reality, one richer and more -substantial. In truth, they are something other, and something far more -than they believe themselves to be. Does this not show, beyond -possibility of refutation, that they do not fill the whole of life? - -The contradiction immanent in the modern systems of life is especially -apparent in the fact that they are unable to banish supersensual powers -and to limit life to sense experience, without attributing to sense -experience more content and more value than that which experience itself -justifies, and which, to be consistent, they should not overstep. The -naturalistic thinker ascribes unperceived to nature, which to him can be -only a co-existence of soulless elements, an inner connection and a -living soul. Only thus can he revere it as a higher power, as a kind of -divinity; only thus can he pass from the fact of dependence to a -devotional surrender of his feelings. The socialist bases human society, -with its motives mixed with triviality and passion, on an invisible -community, an ideal humanity, which he clothes with the splendour of a -power and dignity that transfigures the immediate appearance of society. -It is only in this way that he is able to direct his whole effort upon -the welfare of mankind, and to expect a pure victory of reason within -its sphere. The individualist in his conception exalts the individual to -a height far more lofty than is justified by the individual as he is -found in experience; for his thought, the individual is far more -powerful and far more prominent and noble than immediate impressions -indicate. Only thus is he able, from the freedom and the development of -the individual, to hope for the beginning of a new epoch. - -In these newer systems of life the conception of reality as a whole is -also subjected to the same groundless and, likewise, false idealisation. -As in these systems nothing may be acknowledged which transcends sense -experience, there can be no universal which pervades and holds together -the manifold. This being the case, reality must be a co-existence of -single pieces; but no one will readily confess himself of this opinion. -A pantheism, vague to the highest degree, is therefore seized upon as a -cure-all, that man may have something which permeates and connects; but -of this something, however, all more detailed description is lacking, -and is carefully avoided. A conception so vague allows us at the same -time to think and not to think something; at the same time to affirm and -to deny. It seems to accomplish so much and to demand so little; it -makes the impossible possible; and offers the most convenient asylum to -all indefiniteness and confusion. It is a pity that in all this it is -not a reality that surrounds us, but a mere _fata morgana_ which -deceives. And a conception so vague is to displace religion and accord -support to the new life! Truly, this requires a stronger faith than that -with which the older religions were satisfied. - -The modern systems of life desire a more forceful reality; in this they -set work an aim which cannot be rejected. The course they have entered -upon, however, does not bring them nearer to this aim, but rather -removes them further from it. Neither the self-evidence of the senses -nor the oscillation of mood can ever represent genuine reality to a -being who, for good or for evil, has once learned to think. Many and -varied impressions may come and go in sense experience; but their -abundance cannot prevent the chief conceptions, by which they are here -accompanied, from receiving a character abstract and vague in the -highest degree. We hear continually of the whole, of reason, of power, -of evolution; but all these conceptions have no stability and little -content; they are like shadows and phantoms which vanish as soon as we -wish to take hold of them. So, by an irony of fate, just those modes of -thought whose chief impulse was the desire for more reality dissipate, -dissolve reality. We see that the spiritual life may be denied by the -individual, but not driven from the work of culture. It is true that -immediate experience, outer and inner, has become much more to the -present age than it was to earlier ages; but it has become so only -through spiritual endeavour. If, therefore, the Modern Age now turns -definitely against this spiritual activity, to rob it of all -independence, it destroys that which first gave it its own power. - -The modern systems of life have raised the standard of human existence -enormously in regard to power and content; but they have done this at -the cost of its spiritual concreteness. They have suppressed the life of -inner spiritual experience and denied the problems of man's inner -nature. They know of no grappling of man either with the infinite or -with his own nature; they recognise no conflict between freedom and -fate, and no inner development of the soul. And all this because their -view of life as a whole takes away all depth, and transforms existence -into a mere series of appearances. Thus, for anyone who regards such -depth as the basis of life, and who, therefore, will not reject the -experience and the result of the work of universal history, it becomes a -necessity to reject and oppose the modern systems as guides of life. The -more explicitly and exclusively they are presented, the more decided -must his opposition be. For, what shall all the gain on the -circumference of life profit man if through attention to that the centre -of his life becomes empty and weak, if there emerges no content and no -meaning in life itself? What is the value of all the advancing and -refining of human existence if it does not bring with it a genuine -spiritual culture and an inward elevation of mankind? - -The increasing experience and perception of such limitations in the new -may lead men to give more attention again to the old. The striving to -transcend mere sense experience can no longer appear as a mere flight -into an "other" world of dreams, or as due to a feeble and cowardly -disposition; it may now be admitted rather as a deeply rooted endeavour -to reach greater depths of life. Yet such a relaxation of the opposition -to the old, and such an inclination to estimate it more highly, by no -means justifies us in simply taking it up again in the form in which it -lies before us. For to this not merely the modern system of life, but -the whole development of life and work, is opposed. The contradictions -and doubts which have grown up in the course of this development are not -in the least overcome by the failure of the modern systems of life. For -we do not find ourselves confronted here with an "either--or," in which -the invalidity of the one alternative immediately establishes the -validity of the other; but both may be inadequate. So we remain -surrounded by the old and the new, under powerful influences from both, -but not in a position to accept either the one or the other exclusively. - - -(b) THE CONDITION OF THE PRESENT - -This situation, with its juxtaposition of the new and the old, is so -full of confusion and perplexity that only a feeble disposition is -capable of acquiescing in it. In the old we respect or surmise a depth; -but this depth does not know how to give itself a form suitable to the -present, or to influence us with the means available in our own time. -The new directs all our attention to the immediate present and fills us -with its intuitions; but this present becomes superficial to us, and -with increasing power a desire for more substance and soul in life rises -up in opposition to it. The old lifted us to the proud height of a new -world, but this height showed signs of becoming severed from the rest of -existence, and lapsed therefore into a state of painful insecurity. The -new builds up from the experience of sense, but it finds no conclusion -without going beyond this experience and thus contradicting itself. The -old regarded the spiritual life of man, if not man himself, as occupying -the centre of all and thereby fell into the danger of a hastened -conclusion and of an anthropomorphic conception of reality. The new -takes from man every position by which he is especially distinguished, -and ignores all connection with ultimate depths, but in so doing it -overthrows more than it intends; it undermines nothing less than the -possibility of all spiritual work, all science, all culture. - -And so we find ourselves in the midst of contradictions, drawn first in -one direction, then in another: that we are at a crisis in life as a -whole and in culture, that we are in state of spiritual need, cannot -fail to be recognised. This crisis is made all the more acute through -the peculiarity of the historical circumstances which have led up to it -and the social conditions which surround us. Historically, we are under -the influences of two cultures: one older, which up to the seventeenth -century was in undisputed supremacy and which has asserted its authority -up to the present day, especially in regard to the arrangements of -social life; and one newer, which, after the influence of many varied -preliminary tendencies, has arisen since that time with the energy of -youth, and which, in the minds of individuals, has easily become the -dominant power. The two cultures had different starting-points and -followed different main courses. The old culture carried within itself -the experiences of Greek life, the inner progress of which may be seen -especially in the development of its philosophy. In the old culture -endeavour was driven more and more beyond the world of sense to a world -of thought, in which it went on from a universal to an ethical and -ultimately to a religious conviction. To the thought of Greece, as she -grew old, the world of sense experience sank more and more in reality -and value, and life found its basis and chief realm of experience in a -region transcending sense. Christianity definitely established this view -of life, and made the invisible Kingdom of God the true home of man, the -most immediate and the most secure that this life knows. - -New peoples then grew up in this way of thinking; peoples who still had -their work before them; to these, the break with the world of sense came -more as the imposition of an overpowering authority than as due to -their own experience. This fact constituted a point of weakness in every -way; but no serious complication arose so long as these peoples were not -yet ripe for spiritual independence. As soon, however, as this was the -case, it was inevitable that contradictions should manifest themselves, -and that a newly awakened impulse should urge the movement into an -entirely opposite direction. - -That is what really happened; the main tendency of life is now directed -just as much upon the world as earlier it went beyond it; it has been -transferred from the invisible to the visible, from the supernatural to -the natural. We see this most clearly in the case of religion, which, as -though with immanent necessity, runs through the sequence of a -predominant transcendent Theism, a Panentheism, a Pantheism--gradually -becoming colourless--an Agnosticism, and a Positivism. Everything -supernatural disappears from thought, and life is concerned solely with -sense experience. Thus, finally, we appear to have arrived at the same -point as that from which the Greeks started out: the Monism of the most -modern coining, for example, is hardly to be distinguished from the -Hylozoism of the ancient Ionian thinkers. But is the whole result of the -movement of universal history really only a deception? Has it simply -brought us back again, from the false paths that we have tried, without -according us any kind of positive profit whatever? We have become men of -another kind; we think and feel differently; we have built up a rich -culture, have transformed the world, have created a spiritual -atmosphere; and we are capable of striving after infinite life and -ultimate truth. Could all of this spring out of mere error? If that were -so, should we not be compelled to reject the whole of this as phantasy -and deception? But if the error was a means and an instrument in the -attainment of truth, and if mankind in its going out from itself and in -its return to itself is inwardly developed, where does the boundary -between truth and error lie, and what is the meaning of the whole? So -here again we lapse into uncertainty; history, to other ages a secure -support, leads us into still greater doubt. - -Finally, we must add to this crisis of culture the onward march of the -social movement, which continually increases in power; the passionate -longing of ever-growing groups of men for immediate participation in -culture and the joys of life. Such movements may accomplish themselves -within a fixed and acknowledged sphere of culture and of life; what -changes they then bring lie within this sphere; they do not place the -whole in question. Thus, the democratic movements of the fifteenth and -sixteenth centuries left certain principles of religious conviction -untouched; they left the conception of the world entirely unchanged. But -the matter is quite otherwise when a movement of this kind comes in -contact with a culture which is inwardly unstable and which is growing -uncertain concerning its final aims. We cannot fail to recognise what a -great danger of degeneration there is under such circumstances. The -masses, thus struggling upward, then seek their own way of life, and in -so doing they naturally concentrate their attention upon that which lies -immediately before their eyes and affects their immediate well-being. -From this position they will advance all the more quickly to a certain -conclusion, in that they are unconcerned with the experiences and -perplexities of the work of universal history, and therefore, with -unclouded enthusiasm, expect complete truth and pure happiness from -freer exercise of their powers and the rejection of all authority. If we -wish to ignore the dangers to culture which thus grow up, we must either -estimate man as he is too highly, or spiritual tasks too meanly. Until -the present, an independent spiritual life, making man more -comprehensive in being, raising and freeing him, has manifested itself -only at individual points; in the first place in chosen individuals, -from whom it has been conveyed to the common life. The spiritual world -made its appearance as a power superior to the interests and the -opinions of individuals and of the masses. Only in such transcendence of -the merely human did it develop any characteristic content, find an -inner unity, arouse respect, and lead man beyond mere nature. If all -this should now become different, if man in the mass should come to feel -himself to be the measure of all things, and should relate all to his -perception as the centre of infinity, would not a severe contradiction -arise between human enterprise and spiritual necessity, and would not -the full development of this opposition threaten the whole state of -culture with a violent convulsion? Ultimately the inner necessities of -our being would certainly win the day against all errors of -superficiality, but what severe conflicts and losses the division must -cost! - -The consideration of all these facts reveals us under the power of -different, indeed antagonistic, movements, and most especially in the -midst of the great struggle for supremacy between the visible and -invisible world, as the conflict between Positivism and Idealism gives -expression to it. Life for us contains two movements, one of which -starts from the centre and the other from the circumference; the former -cannot embrace the fullness of reality, and its basis is also insecure; -the latter gives no inner unity to life and lowers the standard of the -whole. As each of these main tendencies again divides, movements the -most varied surround us, tear us asunder, and crush our souls under -their oppositions. God and reason have become uncertain to us, and the -substitutes that are offered--nature, society, the individual--fail to -satisfy us. The unrest and uncertainty that arise from this are not -limited to a single sphere, they extend to the ultimate basal principles -of life. The new mode of thought declares the chief world of the -ancients to be a delusion; but we saw its own world dissolved in shadows -and schemes by spiritual activity. Since the one dissolves the reality -of the other, we are threatened with the loss of all definite results; -our own being becomes a dark problem to us; we know neither what we are -nor what we are not. - -The impression that we get of the condition of the present as a whole -may also be represented in the following manner: the historical -movement of humanity unfolds an incalculable wealth of life; this life, -however, cannot reach its own highest point and cannot win a character -of a spiritual kind unless it organises itself into a whole, unless it -attains an inner synthesis transcending all isolated states. Such -syntheses have been realised, and have led to distinctive organisations -of life; but these organisations have all proved to be too insignificant -and too narrow, and none has been able to overcome the rest and to -embrace the whole wealth of life. So life as a whole has broken them -down; and since it has thus lost all inner structure, it must inevitably -fall into a state of rapid degeneration, and must threaten to lose all -content and meaning. - -The evil effects on the development of life that are caused by this -convulsion and division, and by the lack of a dominant tendency; how -this condition leads to the destruction of everything simple and -self-evident, and lends to an unrestrained reflection an unwarrantable -power; how it robs endeavour of all its main tendencies, and permits -true and untrue, good and evil, to run confusedly together, all this and -much else is to-day so much and so widely discussed, and presents itself -with such overpowering clearness to our vision, that its description -need not detain us even for a moment. - -Ought we to submit to this disintegration and degradation of life as to -an inevitable destiny, or is it possible to work against it and to -strive after a unity transcending the division? The fact that the -division makes so strong an impression on us and that we feel it to be -so intolerable is at once in favour of the latter alternative. How could -this experience be possible if all multiplicity did not fall within a -comprehensive whole of life--if our nature were not superior to the -oppositions and did not drive us compulsorily to seek a unity? The life -which, in distinct contrast to decaying Antiquity, flows through our age -in a powerful, ceaselessly swelling flood; the unwearied activity of -this age; the excellence of its work; its passionate longing for more -happiness and fullness of life, all forbids a hasty and light -renunciation. It is true that there are hard contradictions, and that -spiritual power is at present not equal to cope with them; but this -power is not a given and fixed magnitude: it is capable of an -incalculable increase. Thus we ought not to be too ready to assert that -the limitations of the age are identical with the bounds of humanity, -and we ought not faint-heartedly to discontinue the struggle for a unity -and a meaning in life. - -This problem cannot be acknowledged without at the same time being -admitted as the most important and the most urgent of all problems. For, -on the decision concerning the whole, that concerning the spiritual -character of life depends, and, as this character extends through the -whole of life, every single matter will be differently decided according -to the decision concerning the whole. Only purely technical and merely -formal matters of work may remain unaffected by the problem, but -wherever a content comes into question it will at once arise and -manifest its urgency. This problem, therefore, will not suffer itself to -be thrust into the background; we can neither dally with it nor turn -aside from it. The individual, indeed, in his sphere of free decision -and of independent action can withdraw himself from the question, but he -can do so only at the price of the debasement of the quality of his -life, only in that, from an independent co-operator in the building up -of the ages, he becomes a dependent under-worker. - - -(c) THE FORM OF THE PROBLEM - -Only a few words are now necessary to come to a more definite -understanding concerning the form of the problem, which, with compelling -force, rises into prominence out of all this complexity. Where the -convulsion is such a fundamental and universal one as it shows itself to -us to be, it is of the first importance to rise above the existing -chaos, and to avoid all that which, even indirectly, would lead us back -to it. Many of the aids which would-be healers of the time's evils -recommend with vigour therefore need not be considered. - -Every attempt to make a direct compromise between the different forms of -life, to appropriate eclectically this aspect from one and that aspect -from another, is inadequate. The view that none of the systems of life -could have won so much power over mankind without containing some kind -of truth, which may not be lost, has, to be sure, a good deal of truth -in it. It is first necessary, however, to attain a position from which -this truth in each case may be ascertained and rightly appreciated; and -we can only reach such a position in opposition to the confusion which -surrounds us. - -A recourse to history and an adherence to a high achievement of the past -promise just as little help. One thing is certain: history cannot be -eliminated from our life; its highest achievements invite us to consider -them again and again. But what is to be accepted by us as "high," -indeed, what as "spiritual" history, is not at all definite without -further consideration. It is what is esteemed in our own conviction as -true and great which decides in this matter. We look at history from the -position of the present and with the spirit of the present. If, -therefore, as we saw, the present has fallen inwardly into a state of -complete uncertainty and doubt, our consideration of history must be -affected in the same way; and, of course, not its external data, but its -inner spiritual content and meaning must be made uncertain. At the same -time, we cannot fail to recognise that in reference to the central -problem with which we are concerned, the present situation is quite -peculiar, and lacks historical parallel. Sharp contrasts have always -been found in human experience; and in transitional periods in history -they have been felt with painful acuteness. But never did they so extend -over the whole of life and so deeply affect fundamentals; never was -there so much uncertainty with regard to what should be the main -direction of endeavour, and the meaning of all human existence and man's -relation to the universe, as in the present. Everything which to earlier -ages appeared an inviolable possession has become to us a problem. What -gain, therefore, in respect of the chief matter could a return to the -past bring? In his investigation of the far-off ages the scholar may for -a time forget the present: the attitude of mind which may result in -bringing him fame for his work would be dangerous and destructive as a -disposition of the whole of mankind. For we cannot treat that which is -foreign to our nature as something of our own, without losing our -distinctive character and degrading our own life to one of mere -imitation. - -Further, it has become impossible to strive for the ideal by selecting -from the realm of experience a single point and treating it as an -archimedean point, as absolutely fixed, and shaping our life from it. -Descartes attempted to do this with his "I think," and Kant with his "I -ought." But it is very doubtful whether there is an archimedean point in -man; whether to make such an assumption is not to over-estimate man. The -experience of history shows further that that which some have taken as -absolutely primary and axiomatic has been regarded by others as -derivative, and has been explained in an entirely different manner. The -presentationalist does not deny the actuality of thought, or the -naturalistic thinker conscience; but he understands it as a subsidiary -phenomenon, and therefore can find no support in it. How then can that -overcome all doubt which itself calls forth serious doubt? - -A whole sphere can be withdrawn from the confusion and used to overcome -it just as little as can a single leading point. For the uncertainty -with regard to the whole extends far into every individual sphere; and -such a sphere may appear, to one in one way, and to another in another. - -Science is not infrequently treated as though it were enthroned on high, -supreme above all the struggles and the doubts of existence, and as -though, from its sovereign capacity, it were able to give a secure -content of truth to life. It is true that science has much in its forms -and in its work which is not the subject of dispute; but that with which -we are here concerned--its intrinsic value, its spiritual character, and -its place in life as a whole--is by no means a matter beyond dispute. As -a matter of fact, every system of life has its own assertion in -reference to this problem: to each to know signifies something different -and is capable of something different. Whoever decides for one of these -assertions concerning the nature of knowing has at the same time made a -decision concerning the systems of life. He stands not outside, but in -the midst, of the struggle. The same thing holds good with regard to -morality, which is often welcomed as a secure refuge from the doubts of -science. For, however certain it may be that in this sphere also there -is no difference of opinion in respect of many things, as, for example, -concerning the goodness or badness of certain types of conduct, still, -the more we come to be concerned with principles the more do problems -arise. In the immediate present the fact is most unmistakably clear that -in this field also the fight does not rage around the interpretation of -a given and acknowledged fact, but around the fact itself. What a -different purport and meaning morality has in the systems of Religion, -Immanent Idealism, Naturalism, Socialism, and Individualism -respectively! - -Finally, the attempt to give to life stability and peace by turning to -the subject, to personality, as to a point removed from all perplexity, -also fails. We should be the last to place a low estimate upon -personality, but the conception receives its meaning and value only in -its spiritual connections, and without these it soon becomes nothing -more than a mere term, which blurs and blunts the great antithesis of -existence. If that which is called personality exists as a merely -individual point by the side of things, then we can never discover how -occupation with things is capable of transforming life as a whole. If, -however, in this activity we should win an inward relation to infinity -and a spontaneity of life, then this admission involves a confession -concerning reality as a whole which can never be justified by a theory -which regards the mere individual as the starting-point. That the idea -of personality implies a problem rather than a fact is indicated by the -different conceptions of it which we meet in the different systems of -life. In considering personality, Religion thinks of the immediate -relation of the soul to God; Immanent Idealism, of the presence of the -infinite at the individual point; Individualism, of the supremacy of the -free subject over against the social environment. It is only by reason -of the common terminology that we fail to recognise how great the -differences are in the thought on the matter; how that which one regards -as of value in personality is severely attacked by another. - -All these attempts therefore prove to be inadequate because they lead -back to the state of uncertainty they were meant to overcome. To reject -them, however, involves us in a certain assertion, which to some extent -points out the main direction which further investigation must follow. -No external compromise can help us, but only the winning of a -transcendent position which is capable of giving to each factor its -right without reduction; no flight into history can lead us to the -truth, but only an activity of the present, not, however, of the present -of the mere moment, but which embraces the work of universal history; no -placing a single point or sphere into a supreme and all-dominant -position can help us to overcome division, but only a conflict for a new -whole; no mere turning to personality is of value before a sure basis is -given to it from the whole! All leads us to this conclusion: we must -strive for a new system of life. And to achieve this is not impossible, -for, as we saw, a system of life is not imposed upon us by fate, but -must arise from our own activity. If the systems which have previously -been formed no longer satisfy, why cannot mankind evolve others? Or is -it proved that the existent forms exhaust all possibilities? A too -narrow conception of life was seen to be a common defect of all these -systems; its richness broke through the attempted unifications, and with -this they fell into irreconcilable contradiction. Should not a synthesis -be possible which would do more justice to the whole extent of life; -which need not deny and exclude so much; and which might also unite what -at first seems absolutely contradictory? Doubtless such a synthesis -would not be achieved all at once; it is inevitable that growing life -should involve many discords and movements within itself. Yet this -synthesis would present itself at least in a manner similar to that of -the extant systems; and, since it strives after something human, it must -always be mindful of its limits. - -Should such a universal synthesis be at all possible, it must certainly -be something which is to be found and disclosed rather than something -which simply is to be produced from ourselves. How could we hope to -advance to it if it were not somehow involved in the depth of our being, -and in our fundamental relation to the world, and if it did not already -exist here in some way? It is a matter, therefore, of arousing to fuller -independence and at the same time of raising inwardly something which -exists within us; of recognising something new and even astonishing in -the old and the supposedly self-evident, so that the truth of the -universe may become our truth and give power to our life. - -A task of this kind is a matter of the whole soul and not merely of the -understanding; it is a concern of humanity, not of the individual alone. -Of that which the single individual may contribute towards the -attainment of the aim it is hardly possible to think humbly enough. And -yet each has to use his power to the best of his ability; if in cases of -great necessity and of ill-fortune in matters of an external kind the -individual considers it only right to hasten to help, how could he -withdraw himself where the task is the satisfying of a spiritual need -of mankind? Still less than in the former case is he able to disregard -the matter as something alien and indifferent to himself. For, in the -struggle for the whole, he fights at the same time for the unity of his -own being, for a meaning for his own life. - - - - -II - -THE OUTLINE OF A NEW PHILOSOPHY OF LIFE - -INTRODUCTORY REMARKS AND CONSIDERATIONS - - -Our inquiry ended in a definite negation; it showed the present -condition of things to be marked by severe internal conflict and in -danger of dissolution from within. Many movements of thought and life -cross, disturb, limit, and oppose one another. Since what to one seems a -wholesome truth seems to another pernicious error, all inner community -of life disappears, and with it all firmness of conviction and joy of -creative activity. The more these conflicting tendencies develop the -more do they crush and destroy all the traditional elements of our life; -the more are the spiritual contents and goods, which the necessities of -life compel us to adhere to, deprived of their basis in the depths of -the soul. The confusion which prevails in the present time, with its -continual change, its rapid alteration of circumstances, its power to -convey the most diverse impressions, its production of ever new -combinations, might even attract and entertain us if it were no more -than a drama. But if the confusion is more than this, if it includes our -destiny and is meant to signify the whole of our life, then, by reason -of its detrimental effects upon the whole of life and upon man's -inwardness, and by reason of its lack of content and soul, it must -completely fail to satisfy us, and must provoke an energetic resistance. -True, a condition of things so full of contradictions has also its -advantages; it accords to the activity of the individual the greatest -liberty and gives him a feeling of supremacy; its dissolution of -everything previously regarded as fixed enables uncontrolled feeling and -unstable mood to acquire power, and at one time to flatter man -pleasantly, and at another to carry him away impetuously. The -individual's attainment of freedom, however, gives as yet no content to -life; and the feeling of supremacy is as yet not a real supremacy. These -feelings and tendencies, which, within a wider whole of life, certainly -serve to add to its animation, inevitably lead to a state of vagueness -and emptiness when they put themselves forward as the whole. The -supposed aids which are offered us are no more than mere pretences; and -they become dangerous and harmful so far as they deceive us concerning -the seriousness and tension of the situation. - -The feeling of tension was increased through the historical treatment -which accompanied our inquiry. For, from the point of view of history, -the present confusion shows itself to be not a temporary obscuring of an -indisputable truth, or a tendency on the part of man to become feeble -and weary in the appropriation of such a truth, but to involve in doubt -the basal nature of truth itself: the meaning of our life as a whole was -seen to have fallen into uncertainty. The systems of thought, in the -light of which we have hitherto regarded reality and steered the -oncoming flood of appearances, have broken up and dissolved. We have -become defenceless in face of the impressions of the environment which -affect us with increasing force, and impel us now in one direction, now -in another. It is not simply this or that aspect in human existence, but -the whole of man's nature which has become problematical in this -dissolution. Formerly, the chief result of the effort of universal -history had seemed to be that man rises more and more above nature and -builds for himself a realm with new contents and new values. Now, the -desire to be something higher than nature appears to be a bold -presumption; the idea that man has a special position is ably contested, -and every distinctive task is denied him. Man appears to be far too -insignificant and to possess far too little freedom to be able to take -up arms against the world and to obtain the mastery of it. Doubts such -as these are all the more painful because they are the result of our own -work; in that we toiled, investigated, and pressed forward, we -undermined the foundations of our own life; our work has turned with -destroying power against ourselves. With the increase of external -results, life as a whole has become increasingly hollow; it has no -longer an organising and governing centre. Is it to be wondered at if -the finer spirits of our age are weary, disheartened, and repelled by -the feeling of the disharmony of the whole of present culture, which -calls for so much effort from man and yields him so little genuine -happiness; speaks of truth and lives from semblance and pretence; -assumes an imposing mien and utterly fails to satisfy when confronted -with ultimate problems? Is not the power of attraction, which the figure -of St. Francis of Assisi was recently able to acquire, an eloquent -witness to the reality of the longing for more plainness and simplicity -in life? And yet we cannot take up again the position occupied by an -earlier age; we cannot take up a past phase unchanged. No return to the -conditions of the past can bring satisfaction to the spiritual needs of -the present, for a device of this kind always leads by a detour back -again to the starting-point. Ultimately, it is from ourselves alone that -help can come; and we can have recourse to no means other than those of -the living present. - -First of all, our state of necessity must be admitted to the full, and -the danger of a further degeneration of life in respect of its spiritual -nature adequately estimated. It is always a gain to obtain a clear idea -of the condition of the matter in question and to grasp the problem as a -whole. For, through this, we are saved not only from illusions leading -to error, but also from the authority of the mere present and from a -feeling of anxiety and fear in the presence of contemporary opinion. If -this age is in a state of such uncertainty; if it achieves so little for -that which concerns the foundations of our spiritual existence, then -neither its agreement can impress us, nor its opposition appal us; but -the endeavour to make life firm again can seek confidently what is -needful for it, and, with care in regard to what it shall affirm and -deny, can follow the way which its own necessities point out. - -One fact in particular must tend to increase our confidence in this -endeavour: the fact, namely, that a negative result, which proceeds from -our own work, cannot be a mere negation, but must contain an affirmative -element within it. From what reason could the traditional systems of -life have become inadequate to man other than that they do not satisfy a -demand that we ourselves make upon them, and must make upon them? It is -plain that we need and seek more than we possess, and this seeking -betrays that our being is wider or deeper than was assumed in those -systems. Why did each of the different systems become inadequate, unless -it was that life itself rejected as too narrow the standard involved in -them? Why was it impossible to regard the different systems as having a -certain validity, to allow them to continue side by side, and divide our -existence amongst them, if not because we cannot possibly give up all -claim to an inner unity? If, then, the present confusion is rooted in a -wrong relation between our desire and our achievement, we need not -faint-heartedly surrender ourselves to it. It is plain that there is -something higher in us, which we have to arouse to life and realise to -its fullest extent. We may be confident that the necessity of our being, -which gave rise to the desire, will also reveal some way by which it may -be satisfied. - -A closer consideration of the results of our inquiry leaves no doubt -with regard to the direction which research has to take to accomplish -its task. Diverse, fundamentally different systems passed in review -before us; each came forward as the unadorned and true expression of a -reality that seemed common to them all; their struggle appeared to be a -conflict concerning the interpretation of this reality. It became -evident, however, that the conflict is, on the contrary, in regard not -to the interpretation but the fundamental nature of reality; different -realities arise which are irreconcilably opposed. The systems do not -originate in a common and secure basis: the basis itself is sought, and -may assume various forms. The conflict therefore is much more over -ultimate problems than is usually supposed; it arises primarily out of -the nature of life itself, out of the inner movement which advances -against the illimitable world around us, and seeks to gain the mastery -over it. Our life and our world acquire a definite character only by our -taking up such a movement of counteraction, the particular nature of -which decides over all further moulding of life. We have seen that when -we ourselves became active we took up and emphasised one of the -possibilities which lie within the range of our life, and held it as -supreme over all the rest; we took as the fundamental relation one of -the relations of which our life is capable, as, for example, the -relation to God, to the immanent reason of the universe, to nature, to -society, to one's own individuality. A particular sphere of life was -thus marked out; a scheme of life was yielded which appeared capable of -taking up all experience into itself: according to the starting-point -adopted, we sketched a distinctive outline and sought to include the -whole content of human industry, man's universe of work--as we might -call it--in order to lead to our own perfection. This scheme, assumed to -be true, then had to show what it was capable of; a powerful effort was -brought forth to overcome the resistance of a world which, even when it -was grasped from within, still remained alien to our nature; and, -ultimately, to form the whole into a unity. We were not, as it were, an -empty vessel into which a content flows from outside, but we generated -from within a movement which went onward and onward, and desired to take -up everything in itself; it was a matter of radically transforming the -external into an inner life. We could succeed in this only in that life -self-consciously pressed forward to win new powers; formed connections, -branches, and graduations; accomplished an inner construction; and with -progressive self-elevation became an all-inclusive whole, which did not -possess a reality by the side of itself, but itself became complete -reality. Thus, life took possession of the world only in that it widened -itself from within to the world, and, in the appropriation of -everything alien to it, advanced from the original outline to full -concreteness. - -According to the results of our inquiry, the chief decision in the -struggle with regard to the nature of the world also depends upon our -type of life. We convinced ourselves that there was no conception of -life common to the different systems, but that from its starting-point, -throughout its whole development, each of them shaped life differently -from the others; and we saw that the differences even went as far as -complete opposition. Each system of life had its own kind of experience; -each formed its own instruments for the appropriation of the world; each -saw of the infinite that in particular which corresponded to the main -direction of its own movement. A consideration of all the facts makes it -quite clear that a decision depends neither upon externals nor upon the -individual, but upon the inner life and the whole; and further, that -cognition does not give a solution to the problems of life, but that -life itself has to reach a solution through its own organisation and -construction, its own advance and creative activity. - -However, that which was the compelling and deciding power in the systems -of the present day--the struggle for life itself--has not attained to -complete recognition in them. Rather, they were too quick to begin to -occupy themselves with objects, and sought to show themselves superior -in this respect to their rivals; the attention to results prevented the -correct appreciation and estimation of experience itself. The -impossibility of coming to an agreement concerning the object then -forced us back to the life-process; and we were led to the view that the -object appeared different because we ourselves placed something -different into it, and that we saw less the object itself than ourselves -and our life in the object. Thus we were induced to place our attention -chiefly on the subject; but then there was a strong tendency to leave -the world outside as a special realm; and the division of work between -subject and object drove us still further into uncertainty. In the -midst of such confusion, we did not come to the point of making a -decision; we did not attain the position from which alone an agreement -is possible; at one time one system, at another time another carried us -away. We failed to recognise that, however much we come into contact -externally, we live spiritually in separate worlds; that, while using -the same expressions, we speak different languages, and therefore cannot -possibly understand one another. - -The gain is by no means an insignificant one, and a distinctive -treatment arises, if we become clearly conscious of the fact that the -shaping of the process of life itself is the chief object of conflict; -that the movement is not one between world and life, but lies entirely -within life; and that the essential matter is the perfecting of life -itself. The recognition of this fact leads us to an immanent mode of -treatment that has many advantages. The facts involved are now seen to -lie deeper. The source of experiences is not so much the relation to the -environment as the movement and expansion of life itself. Striving and -conduct may now involve a certain concreteness; indeed, the actual -experiencing of limitations and negations may lead to an elevation above -them. The type of life does not seek to justify itself, to show its -truth, through harmony with an external world; it is justified by its -own advance, its increase in strength, and its upward growth. It is only -a justification of this kind, a justification within its own realm, that -can acquire a power to convince and to restore again to life that -concreteness of which, in opposition to the excess of unrestrained -reflection and vague feeling, it is to-day in the direst need. If we -desire to arise above this state of division, and to attain a greater -unity, we can achieve our aim only by the power of an inner unification -of our life. - -Instead, therefore, of considering the internal from the point of view -of the external, we must consider the external from the point of view of -the internal; our knowledge must be essentially a knowledge of self, our -experience an experience of self, if we would come any nearer to the -attainment of the aim. Our inner nature is not given to us as something -complete; it has first to be aroused to life and developed; we need to -attain to a state of self-determining activity if we would reach the -highest that we are capable of. From the recognition of the necessity of -greater activity, and of seeking the roots of the problem at greater -depths, we become aware of a new relation of thought to life. Although -thought may involve certain fundamental forms, and may adhere to them in -all its activity, it is life in its totality, as we understand it, which -first gives to thought its more detailed form, a characteristic nature, -clear aims and sure tendencies. Thought, therefore, is inseparable from -the movement and the advance of life; all hope of progress rests on the -hope of a further deepening of life; a revealing of new relations, and a -development of new powers. It is not from mere knowledge, but only from -the movement of life as a whole that we can make any advance; but the -life here referred to is one that includes knowledge, and not one that -takes up a position independent of knowledge, and, in opposition to it, -bases itself on supposed practical needs. - -A treatment such as the one we have indicated has to be followed in the -investigation upon which we are about to enter. The chief aim of this -investigation is to reveal and to call forth life; it is not its chief -aim to interpret life in conceptual terms. It is from this position, -therefore, that we ask the question--which the conflict of the different -systems of life forced upon us--whether a unity transcending the -oppositions exists in us and can be aroused to life through our -self-determining activity. It is from this position also that we ask the -further question--which springs out of the struggle between the older -and the newer modes of thought--whether ultimately man must give up the -superior position which from early times he has adjudged himself, or -whether an inner elevation is possible which gives him the power to cope -with new tasks and new conditions. Whether such a treatment leads to a -positive result is a question of fact; and what the answer to this is -cannot be decided by a preliminary consideration, but only by the actual -investigation. - - - - -I. THE MAIN THESIS - -(a) THE ASCENT TO THE MAIN THESIS - - -The most expeditious way of arriving at a comprehensive conception of -human life is to begin with the impression which we get of it as a -whole; ascertain what problems arise from this, and seek to make what -headway we can in solving them until we reach a stage where the -necessity of a particular assertion becomes apparent. From the outset, -however, the attention will be centred chiefly upon that which -differentiates human life from other forms of life existing within our -knowledge; it is from a consideration of this that we shall most readily -see the whole in its proper light. - - -1. MAN AS A BEING OF NATURE - -No one doubts that human life forms the highest point of development -that comes within our experience; that it is in some way more than mere -animal life. But what it is that is characteristic in human life as -distinct from animal life, and how it is to be interpreted, is a matter -of dispute. From the earliest times there has been a great diversity of -opinion and conviction concerning this matter, and absolutely -contradictory views have been maintained. Some thinkers have believed it -possible to regard human life, in spite of its uniqueness, as -essentially the same as that of the animal, and to trace back all -difference to a difference in the quantity of the fundamental nature -which they all possess; these thinkers did not concern themselves with -presenting the higher as developed from the lower by a gradual growth. -Others, on the contrary, regarded human life as something essentially -new and in its very nature distinct--the beginning of another kind of -world--and denied to the uttermost a derivation from lower forms; these -held it to be impossible to avoid the recognition of a break between -animal and human life. According to which of these positions was -accepted, life obtained a fundamentally different prospect and a -fundamentally different task; activity necessarily had different aims -and sought different paths; the conflict around this problem affected -the whole sphere of existence. - -As a result of the movements and experiences of the nineteenth century, -this conflict has entered upon a new stage. In earlier times the -decision had generally been made as a result of the immediate impression -of the civilised man who was conscious of his superiority; it did not -seem possible for him to lift himself far enough above his environment; -the life of his soul, through its distinctive spiritual character, -seemed to be as distinct from every impulse which nature exhibited as -the sky is distant from the earth. Science and art, morality and -religion were accepted as an original possession of man and as the power -which had dominated his life from the beginning. He appeared to be a -higher being; and to direct all thought and endeavour towards the -strengthening of the distinctively human was regarded as the chief -requirement of life. - -The movements which have arisen in the Modern Age have led to a radical -change in our treatment of this question: this change is chiefly due to -science. Modern science breaks down the authority of the immediate -impression, and, in contrast with it, projects a new representation of -the world. Man is no longer looked upon as occupying a position of -lonely elevation, but is seen to be in the closest concatenation with -nature around him, and is regarded, finally, as a mere part of its -machinery. Many movements of thought tend toward this conclusion and -support one another. The physical relationship which exists between man -and the animals could not have been so clearly perceived, and traced -with such exactitude of detail by modern science had not the fixed -boundaries, which in our representation had hitherto divided the life of -the human soul from that of the animals, been abolished. The new view -was further supported by the results of a keener investigation into the -nature of psychical life, since in this investigation the traditional -conception was analysed into its individual constituents, and it was -sought to explain from their combinations even the highest spiritual -achievements. The result of this modification of ideas was that the -inner life of man was assimilated much more closely to nature than -before; the juxtaposition and the succession of occurrences gained in -significance; it was recognised that relations did not hold from the -beginning but are developed gradually. The forces and impulses which -were operative in this development seemed to have arisen from an actual -process of nature, without any co-operation of human caprice. Our -psychical life appeared to be nothing more than a continuation of -nature. The great divergence between the heights attained in experience, -and the theories that were formulated to account for them, caused no -misgivings because the idea of a gradual evolution during an indefinite -period of time was sufficient to bridge the widest gulf. At the same -time the conception of society allied itself with that of history and -lent its support to the general tendency. Every higher aspect of life -that was accepted formerly as a proof of a supernatural order now became -a witness to historico-social relationship and, with its new -interpretation, lost its old mysteriousness. All this was, of course, -only on the assumption that human life brings nothing essentially new -with it. Not the least doubt as to the validity of this assumption came -to those who entered upon this train of thought. - -Thought was able to follow this course with the greater confidence -because it went hand in hand with a change in practical life. By reason -of the development of modern life, man's relations to the environment -have become increasingly significant to man. Modern industry and -physical science have led him from a preponderatingly contemplative -relation to his environment to an active one; infinite prospects have -been disclosed; the forces of nature have been pressed more and more -into the service of mankind. But even in the service which they render -man these forces have won a power over him, since with a determining -power they keep his activity and his thought bent upon themselves. The -material side of life has escaped from the mean estimation in which it -had previously been held, if not in the conduct of individuals, yet at -the height of spiritual culture: to the present age it has become the -indispensable basis of all development. The social movement, with its -summoning of the masses to complete participation in happiness and -culture, supports the tendency to estimate material goods more highly. -With the cessation of oppression and necessity, and with the increase of -material well-being, a general advance and an inner development of life -seem assured. The whole tendency which we have considered exhibits man -as solely and entirely a part of nature, even though nature may be -conceived of more broadly than it was formerly; and the life of the -society and of the individual as being determined by natural forces and -subject to natural laws. How, along with this tendency, the traditional -conception of the world has been completely transformed; how biology, in -the sense of natural science, has been taken as the leading point of -view for the explanation of life, it is unnecessary to follow further, -since our consideration of the naturalistic system of life has already -given us an insight into this matter. - - -2. THE GROWTH OF MAN BEYOND NATURE - -But even after we had seen an older type of life disappear and a new one -with the power of youth rise up, gain mastery over souls, and transform -conditions, despite all its triumphs the new movement manifested -limitations--limitations which did not arouse the criticism of the -thinker, but with the compulsion of an actual power the opposition of -the developing life of mankind. That which we became aware of in this -connection will become even more clear to us, and impel us to seek for -new aims, if we now concentrate our attention upon the process of life -and follow it throughout its experiences. - -There cannot be the least doubt that we belong to nature: no one can -fail to recognise that it penetrates deep into the life of the soul, and -to a marked extent impresses its own form upon that life: the boundary -therefore is not between man and nature, but within the soul of man -itself. But whether nature is able to claim the whole life of the soul, -or whether at some point there does not arise an insuperable opposition -to such a claim, is another question. Even the most zealous champion of -the claims of nature cannot deny that man achieves something -distinctive: we not only belong to nature, we also have knowledge of the -fact; and this knowledge is in itself sufficient to show that we are -more than nature. For in knowledge, be it in the first place however -meanly conceived, however much concerned with the simple representation -of external occurrences, there is a kind of life other than that which -is shown in the simultaneity and succession of events at the level of -nature. For it is a characteristic of knowledge that in it we hold the -single points present together and connect them into a chain; but how -could we do that without in some way rising above the mere succession -and surveying it from a transcendent point? In this survey we pass from -earlier to later, from later to earlier; and at the same time we are -able to hold the multiplicity together: there must be a unity of some -kind ruling within us; but the mechanism of nature can never produce -such a unity. A transcendence of nature therefore is already -accomplished in the process of thought, even when it only represents -nature, only displays it to our consciousness. Intellectual achievement, -however, is by no means exhausted in the representation of nature. The -development of a new scientific conception of nature sufficiently -demonstrates, as we saw reason to believe, that thought has far more -independence than such representation implies; that in arranging and -transforming phenomena it opposes itself to the environment. For the -scientific conception of nature is not offered to us immediately as -something complete; it has to be won from the naïve view with toil and -difficulty. In order to arrive at this scientific conception, thought -must have a position antecedent to the impressions, must become -conscious of itself, realise its own strength, and in its activity lead -from universal to universal. The work of thought is not simply -transitional: without its continuance that which has been gained would -be quickly lost. Mere existence gives to nature no present reality for -our thought and life. To follow the pathway to reality involves the -overthrow of manifold delusions; and this necessitates such a longing -for truth, and a power to gain truth, as only a thought, which -transcends the sense impression, can produce. Not only is transcendence -of nature demonstrated through the fact of the existence of thought with -such independence, thought also carries within its being unique demands, -measures the life of nature by their standard, and in that life -recognises limitations not simply on this side and that, but also in the -inner being of the whole. Thought cannot possibly be satisfied with the -state of things as they are presented; it desires to illuminate, -penetrate, and comprehend it; it asks "Whence?" and "Why?"--it insists -that events must have a meaning and be rational. And from this point of -view it feels the mere actuality of nature--which excites no opposition -within its own sphere--to be a painful limitation and constraint, -something dark and meaningless. To thought, a life which is swayed by -blind natural impulse must be inadequate, indeed intolerable. Similar -conflicts arise in other directions. Thought embraces a whole and -demands a whole; it cannot refrain from passing a judgment upon the -whole. If this treatment is applied by thought to nature, the -predominant concentration of life in the single individuals and their -juxtaposition will appear to be a serious defect; all the passionate -strivings of the individual beings cannot deceive us concerning the -inner emptiness of the whole. For in nature there is nothing that -experiences the whole of this movement as a whole; makes the experience -self-conscious and something of value in itself. In the movement of -nature everything individual is sacrificed; and there seems to be -nothing to which this sacrifice brings results which are experienced as -a good. The same holds good of a culture that resolves human social -relationship into a simple co-existence of individuals, regards them as -battling together in the struggle for existence, and believes all -progress of the whole to be dependent upon their ceaseless and pitiless -conflict. Even if such a conflict leads to further external results, -there is no spiritual product: the results are experienced by no one as -an inner gain. The indescribable meanness of this whole culture, swayed -as it is solely by the spirit of egoism; the slavish dependence to which -this culture condemns man; the rigour of the individualism that rules in -it, cannot possibly escape from the criticism of thought. Thought, in -transforming this condition of things into an experience--that is, in -making us conscious of it--at the same time makes it impossible for man -to accept it as final. Since it makes us more conscious of the -limitations of this state of life, thought demonstrates--and that -through this very consciousness of its limitations itself--that our -whole existence is not exhausted by that individualisation and -detachment, but that there is a tendency of some sort within us which -strives towards the unity of the whole. - -Problems no less complex arise in relation to time. Looked at from the -point of view of nature, no inconsistency is felt in the fact that only -a short span of time is granted to the life of individuals; that they -come and go in most rapid succession. For here the individuals do not -rise to the consideration of anything beyond their own time; their -presentation and desire are exhausted in the present; they feel no -longing for a continuation of life. The position is radically changed -with the entrance of thought. Thought does not drift along with time: as -certainly as it strives to attain truth, it must rise above time and its -treatment must be timeless: a timeless validity appertains to truth, a -comprehension of things "under the form of eternity" (_sub specie -aeternitatis_). To a being who, in his thought, rises to comprehension -of experience from the point of view of the eternal, all temporal -limitation, and especially the short duration of human life, is a source -of surprise and a contradiction. The rapid sequence of generations, the -perpetual decay of all that impels us so forcibly to desire life and -holds us so firmly to it, seem to deprive our endeavour of all its -value, and give to the whole of existence a shadowy, phantom-like -character. Feelings of this kind have been aroused anew in our own time. -The restlessness of the activities of our civilisation and the lack of -real meaning in this civilisation, which to the present age seems to -constitute the whole of life, need only to be clearly and forcibly -comprehended by thought, and all its bustle and all its passion cannot -prevent the emergence of an acute feeling of its dream-like nature. - -The feeling of the lack of reality and depth in the life of nature will -become the keener in proportion to the degree of independence thought -evolves. For the more thought finds its own basis in itself, the more -will it treat nature as an appearance, the more clearly will it -recognise that sense, with all its obviousness and palpability, does not -guarantee the possession of truth; for truth comes to us only through -thought. In thought, therefore, the world of nature loses its immediacy -and becomes a realm of appearances and phantoms. - -A consideration of all the facts leads us to the result that a life -consisting solely of nature and intelligence involves an intolerable -inconsistency: form and content are sharply separated from each other; -thought is strong enough to disturb the sense of satisfaction with -nature, but is too weak to construct a new world in opposition to it. -Life is in a state of painful uncertainty, and man is a "Prometheus -bound" in that he must needs experience all the constraint and -meaninglessness of the life of nature, and must suffer therefrom an -increasing pain without being able to change this state in any way. - -The experience of our time confirms this conclusion in no indefinite -manner. Since, with regard to the material and the technical, we have -attained heights never before reached, the bonds between us and our -environment have increased a thousandfold, and our work has united us -more closely with the world, we seem now for the first time to attain a -sure hold of reality. At the same time, however, the activity of -thought, and with it unrestrained reflection, have also increased -immeasurably in modern life. This reflection forbids all naïve -submission to the immediacy of nature; destroys all feeling of security; -and comes between us and our own soul, our own volition. We are thrown -back once more on to the world of sense, that we may seek in it a -support and a scope for our life and effort; and from the point of view -of this world the work of thought appears to be a formation of clouds. -But this formation persists; draws us back again to itself and, with all -its insubstantiality, proves strong enough to make us regard the -physical as appearance. Our life is divided into two parts which cannot -and will not coalesce. The emergence of a new life, which can do nothing -but comprehend the other in thought, and which, while it is indeed -capable of depreciating the other, cannot itself advance further, is -seen to involve a monstrous inconsistency. - -If the union of nature and intelligence produces so much confusion, we -are inevitably led to ask whether man does not possess in himself more -than thought; whether thought is not rooted in a deeper and a more -comprehensive life, from which it derives its power. It is not necessary -that such a life should be manifest to us in all its completeness; we -shall also be compelled to acknowledge it as a fact even if in the first -place it has to struggle up in face of opposition; however, in its -development it must show distinctive contents and powers which could not -be the work of a subjective reflection. If there is a life and a -development of this kind, it will be necessary for us to comprehend it -in its various aspects and tendencies, and only when we have -accomplished this may we endeavour to obtain a representation of the -whole. - -Now, developments of life which defy limitation by the mechanism of -nature and set a new kind of being in opposition to it do, in truth, -appear. We recognise such developments in the processes by which life -liberates itself from bondage to an individualism and its subjectivity, -and afterwards attains a self-conscious inwardness. We may consider both -these developments somewhat more in detail. So far as man belongs to -nature, his conduct is determined solely by the impulse to -self-preservation; every movement must either directly or indirectly -tend to the welfare of the individual; everything may be traced back to -what happens to the individuals. This by no means indicates a distinct -separation of man from his environment. For even the mechanism of nature -closely unites that which happens to the individual with that which -happens around him; the individual can progress only in so far as he is -united with others: he cannot advance his own well-being without -advancing that of others. Even in a "state of nature" man takes his -family, his nation, and the whole of humanity indeed, up into his -interests; and as this tendency is not bounded from without, but may be -immeasurably refined and extended in an indefinite number of directions, -it easily comes to appear that this involves an inner deliverance from -self, and that another is of value to us for his own sake. But it is no -more than an appearance; for with all the external agreement the inward -separation is far greater, and amounts to opposition. Within the limits -of nature we can certainly concern ourselves with something which is -only indirectly useful to us; but we can never be concerned with -anything which is devoid of all use to ourselves; we cannot take such a -direct interest in the welfare of others as will tend to our own -disadvantage. If experience gives evidence of such an activity and such -an interest, in so doing it demonstrates a transcendence of nature. Now, -experience does give such evidence, and indeed with irresistible -clearness. A witness to this is seen in the zeal with which man -habitually attempts to give to his struggles for mere self-preservation -a better appearance, a semblance of conduct performed out of genuine -regard for the interests of others. To what purpose all this trouble to -acquire such an appearance; for what reason this hypocrisy which -permeates the whole of human life; and whence this appearance itself if -we belong solely and entirely to nature? Further, whatever elements of -semblance there may be in the general state of human life, the -development of that life is by no means nothing but semblance. The -social life of man is not explicable as a simple collection of -individuals related to one another in different ways; but in the family, -in the state, in humanity as a whole there is evolved an inner unity, a -sphere of life with distinctive values and contents. And as it is of the -nature of these to transcend the ends and aims of the individuals, to -arouse other feelings and stimulate to other efforts, so their demands -may be directly opposed to those of individual self-preservation. Man -sees himself compelled to decide whether he will pursue his own welfare -or that of the whole: from the necessity of a decision it is impossible -to escape. However much in the majority of cases self-interest may -preponderate, we cannot dispute the possibility of his acting in direct -and conscious opposition to his own interest; of his subordinating and -sacrificing himself; and of his doing this "not grudgingly nor of -necessity," but willingly and gladly; of his feeling this subordination -to be not a negation and a limitation, but an affirmation and an -expansion of his life. All who strive for some essential renewal and -elevation of human life base their hope and trust upon such a -disposition. A renewal and an elevation of life involve far too much -toil, conflict, and danger; they demand a renunciation and a sacrifice -far too great for them to be commended to us by consideration of our own -welfare, or for them to dispense with the necessity of counting upon an -unselfish submission, a sincere sympathy, a genuine love. That which was -produced with glowing passion in heroic beginnings must with a quieter -warmth pervade all progress also. An inner community of minds is -indispensable if the whole of culture is not to become a soulless -mechanism and inwardly alien to us. It is true that the external way of -regarding the facts of life often fuses together as one, lower and -higher, a continuation of nature and the beginning of a new life. -Language also supports this tendency, since it indicates fundamentally -different psychical states with the same terms. Yet the love in which -the union with others is sought only in order to advance one's own -interests, and the love which finds in this union a release from the -limitations of the natural _ego_, and gains a new life, remain distinct. -The sympathy which feels the sufferings of others to be unpleasant -because one's own complacency is disturbed by them, and which in -consequence fades away and disappears as soon as the sight of the -suffering comes to an end, is absolutely separated from a sympathy which -extends to the soul of the other, and possessing which, in order to -contribute to the relieving of the other's need, one willingly -sacrifices one's own complacency: a sympathy, therefore, which extends -its interest and help without limit beyond all that simply has to do -with the relation to the environment. How much real love and genuine -sympathy the experience of humanity shows is a question in itself. Even -as possibilities of our being, as matters of thought which occupy our -attention, and as tasks and problems, they give evidence of a -development of our life beyond the limits of nature. - -This forgetfulness of self is a kind of deliverance of life from the -limitations and the interests of the individual: a new relation of man -to man, of person to person, thus arises and brings about an essential -change, indeed a complete transformation of aims and feelings. The -deliverance is effected in another direction with the emergence of a -new relation to things, to the object. In the realm of nature everything -that is external has a value for man only as a means and an instrument -to the advancement of his own welfare; from the point of view of nature, -it is impossible to understand how a thing could attract us on account -of a content and a value of its own. As a matter of fact, the object -does attract us and acquire a power over us in this manner, and this not -merely here and there but over a wide area in movements which affect and -transform the whole of life. Nothing else differentiates work--viewed -spiritually--from other activity, and nothing else elevates work above -other activity than this: that in work the object is inwardly present; -and that man may make its moulding and extension a motive, and find this -a source of joy. This seems to be something self-evident, only because -it happens daily to us and around us; and we do not recognise a new type -of life in it, simply because in human life it is usual to find that -work only gradually attains complete independence. For it is the -pressing necessity of life, the impulse to self-preservation, that first -arouses us from our natural inactivity and compels us to occupy -ourselves with things; and in this change from inactivity to activity it -is our own advantage that we first seek. But that which to us, to -commence with, was simply a means; that which was perhaps most -unwillingly done, begins to attract and hold us more and more for its -own sake; becomes an end in itself, and is able so to charm us that it -forces the idea of utility completely into the background. It is -possible for work to become so attractive, and of such a value in our -estimation, that to ensure its success we can make sacrifices, and can -pursue it in direct opposition to our own welfare. Only when the object -is regarded and treated in this manner can it win an inner proximity to -us; reveal to us its relations; develop characteristic laws; make -demands upon us and call forth our power to meet them. In this way it -constrains us, but the constraint is not exerted upon us from without, -but proceeds from our own decision and activity. We do not feel the -relation to be an oppression, but rather as a witness to our freedom; in -the subordination to the object we feel that we are caught up into a -life more comprehensive, clearer and richer than any we can develop from -the subjective. We reach a stability and a calm in ourselves, and have -within our own being a support against all vacillation and error. Work, -therefore, produces relations which on the one hand unify the endeavour -of the individual and fashion his life as a definite whole; and on the -other, bind humanity into a creative community. In the former case we -have vocation, with its demands and its limitations, it is true, but -with them also its strengthening and its elevation of life; in the -latter complexes of work develop in whole departments of life, in which -the individuals find themselves side by side and are ultimately united -into the community of an all-inclusive whole of culture. From this -something is evolved which is independent not only of the choice but -also of the interests of mere man: a kingdom of truth, a world of -thought transcending all human subjectivity is formed. Thus we see -something grow up within the human sphere which leads man beyond -himself, and which is valid not simply for him but even in opposition to -him. The whole matter bristles with problems: from the point of view of -the life of nature this new life must appear to be an insoluble riddle; -and yet it has far too much value and certitude to be banished as -imaginary. - -Along with this detachment of life from the mere individual and the mere -subjectivity of man, there is a liberation from external ties, and the -development of a self-conscious spirituality. As at the level of nature -life is spent in the development of relations with the environment, in -action and reaction, so the form of life in man remains bound, since the -life of the soul cannot dissociate itself from the experience of sense. -The apparent inwardness that is evolved at this level is simply an -after-effect of sensuous feelings and desires. So far as the life of -nature extends, the forces and laws of the life of the soul will only -refine what the external world exhibits in coarser features. The -mechanism of nature also extends into human life; natural impulses of -conduct, as well as association of ideas, reveal the fact that the life -of the soul is in complete dependence upon natural conditions. From this -point of view it seems impossible that inwardness should ever become -independent. The actual experience of human life, however, shows that -what is thus regarded as impossible is indisputably real. The detachment -from the mere subjectivity of the _ego_ and the development of universal -values, which exist over against us, can be effected only if the basis -of life lies deeper than the contact with the environment. It was a work -of thought which brought about the transition and gave birth to the new -life; only with the help of thought did it ever become possible to form -relations of a new kind and to rouse man's interest in them. The -realities which arose were not of sense but conceptual, ideal. The more -this movement increased in extent, the more human existence was -transformed into realities of thought. Is not such a transformation -evident when in ourselves we see before all else, not the sensuous being -of nature, but a personality or an individuality; when in relationship -with one another we form the idea of the state, and feel that we are -ourselves members of the state; when we regard and value the cognate -beings around us from the conception of humanity? As a matter of fact, a -strong tendency in this direction runs through the whole history of -humanity: sense does not disappear, but is taken up more and more into -something conceptual; the world of thought gives us increasingly the -point of view from which we fashion our lives. We find a progressive -spiritualisation of religion, of morality, of law, of the whole life of -culture. In everything life seeks a deeper basis; an inwardness wins an -independence of the environment, and exercises on the environment a -transforming power. The relations and the order of the realities of -thought manifest a law different from that of sense presentations with -their mere juxtaposition. For in the former case an inner unity, an -objective relation is evolved, and the significance of the individual -member is estimated according to its position in the whole. The -distinctive attributes in a conception form no mere collection, and the -statement of a syllogism no mere sequence; rather, in both, a -comprehending act of thought grasps the manifold and arranges the -separate elements according to their relationship within the whole. The -course of presentation with its mere succession is by no means simply -suppressed through this development of thought; it persists and governs -consciousness on the surface. But the surface is not the totality of the -intellectual life; through it and transcending it an activity of thought -manifests itself, forms new connections, and maintains itself against -all opposition. - -Accordingly, the power that thought exercises is fundamentally different -from the physical power of association, or even of custom. In the case -of thought there is an insistence upon a consistent and related whole -which, even though externally insignificant, produces most powerful -effects. If contradictions exist in our world of thought and condition -of life, they may become intolerable, and the desire to remove them lead -to the emergence of impetuous movements. If, on the other hand, we -recognise that certain things which formerly seemed to be unrelated, -even though they existed side by side, are really inwardly related; or -if, again, an assertion involves a consequence that has not hitherto -been deduced, then the demand, that these things shall be unified and -this consequence developed, is capable of breaking down even the -strongest opposition. In this matter an invisible is capable of more -than a visible power. Of course, thought in isolation has not such a -power; it acquires it only through its relation to a wider life and in -championing the cause of that life. For thought is wont to defend the -life of the individual, of a people, a historical situation of humanity, -on the one hand from an abundance of inconsistencies, and on the other -from dissolution and incompleteness, without any conflict growing out of -it. Life as we experience it immediately is anything but a regular -logic of the schools. In itself simple perception of the fact that an -inconsistency exists, or that ideas which have been regarded as valid -require further development, need not arouse the feeling of man and lead -him to assert his activity; he can acquiesce, and leave the condition of -things unaltered; he can voluntarily resign himself to the -inconsistencies and incompleteness. But, nevertheless, there is a point -at which this condition of inconsistency can be endured no longer, at -which to transcend it becomes the dominant task of life. This point is -reached when the confusion is no longer something external to us which -we contemplate, but enters into the substance of our life, so that the -inconsistency becomes a division, and an attitude of inconsequence -towards it a limitation of our own being. The solving of the problem -then becomes an essential part of our spiritual preservation. And in -that it commands the whole energy and passion of such preservation it -can do that of which thought, with its necessity, is not in itself -capable, it can rouse our whole life to activity and break down even the -strongest opposition. It is from the inner presence of a determining and -moulding process of life that thought itself first obtains a -characteristic form, and is able to impress it upon things, and so -subject them to itself. A spiritual self-preservation of this kind is -fundamentally different from all physical self-preservation: for the -former, it is not a matter of the self asserting its place in the -co-existence of things, but of becoming an independent inward nature, -and of establishing a distinctive whole of life. The exact significance -of spiritual self-preservation is for the present obscure enough; but -whatever it may be, it derives its power from within and not from -contact with the environment. - -How deeply these inner movements are rooted in human life the so-called -historical ideas show with particular clearness. Certain thought -complexes, or rather certain tendencies of life, arise, and win an -overwhelming power in opposition to all narrowly human concerns. They -force the activity of mankind into particular channels; they follow out -their consequences with pitiless rigour; they speak to us in a tone of -command, and require absolute obedience. Neither the interests of -individuals nor those of whole classes prevail against them; every -consideration of utility vanishes before their inner necessity. The -history of religions, for example, has often shown such an astonishing -consistency in the following of characteristic tendencies that their -adherents could see in it the working of a divine spirit. Similarly, the -Enlightenment, in its time with overpowering might seized minds and -penetrated deeply into every department of life; to-day we have a -similar experience in the case of the social movement. On all sides -something is acknowledged as an imperative requirement, as indispensable -for the spiritual persistence of man--something which cannot be brought -in from outside, and which may indeed be entirely inconsistent with -external conditions. Has not the conflict of inner necessities with the -external circumstances that were opposed to them been a leading motive -power in history, and is not all genuine progress achieved through such -an opposition? - -Again, the great force that has been exerted in the movement of history -in the detection and the elimination of contradictions can be explained -only in this context. Logic, as we saw, played an unassuming rôle in -this matter, and the indolence of man always inclined to easy -accommodation and compromise. It was the increased vital energy, the -adoption of a particular issue as the main issue, that made movements, -which had long existed in a state of harmony and peace, irreconcilable -enemies, and drove them to a life-and-death struggle. With a lower level -of spiritual activity the Middle Ages unsuspiciously united a religion -of ecclesiastical organisation with a religion of personal feeling and -disposition; and it did not feel that there was an inconsistency in -their union so much as that one was the completion of the other. As soon -and so far, however, as in the Modern Age spirituality won more -independence and more self-consciousness, and felt itself to be the -centre of the whole, it was inevitable that a dependence upon an -external order should be experienced only as an intolerable oppression; -and the division of life between the one and the other became an -impossibility. It was necessary only that a powerful and passionate -personality, like that of Luther, should take up the problem, and make -it the sole object of his effort, and the hour of revolution had come. -How meanly they think of the controlling forces of history who would -trace back such changes to the selfishness or the vanity of individuals! -Looked at from our point of view, the inner changes within the life of -universal history often appear to be simplifications--cases of energetic -concentration on the essential, and of fundamental separation of the -subsidiary. The truly great carry on a ceaseless conflict against the -chaotic confusion which the life of the majority is wont to produce ever -anew--a condition in which matters of the first importance are confused -with those that are subsidiary; all inner gradation is lacking; and the -great is treated as something insignificant, and the insignificant as -something great. There is a struggle to secure a clear differentiation -and gradation; to establish a centre, and to transform life into a -genuinely self-conscious life. Have not all the principal revivals of -religion, of morality, of education, been simplifications? - -These movements show life in a particular form; something emerges in it -which, unconcerned with the weal and the woe of man, follows its own -course and makes absolute demands; and, more than anything else, -disturbs and destroys his calmness and complacency. How heavily Germany -has had to pay for the movement of the Reformation by being thrown back -politically, nationally, and economically! It is inevitable that all -movements of an ideal kind, the social movement of the present included, -should appear from the point of view of natural well-being, troublesome -and pernicious disturbances. They can be regarded as something higher -only when we acknowledge that life does not consist entirely in external -relations, or in the endeavour to attain harmony with the environment, -but that an inner task grows out of life itself, and first gives to -human existence a value and a dignity. - -In the development of a self-consciousness and of a movement of life -itself, we rise above the motive of utility, by which nature is swayed. -It is a moral element in the widest sense; it is the consciousness of -something objectively necessary, unconditionally transcending the ends -of the narrowly human, that first gives to convictions axiomatic -certainty and to conduct the right energy. This moral element attains to -a more independent display in the moral self-judgment of man that is -called "conscience." True, this conception has been the subject of much -error and has been much over-estimated. Not only has the moral judgment -less power over man than is frequently assumed, but that which is called -conscience is often--generally, in fact--nothing more than a by-product -of custom and of accommodation in human social life. In this case the -inner life has still attained no independence, but remains dependent -upon the environment; and the disposition thus produced is nothing more -than a feeling of aversion to the results of conduct, nothing more nor -less than concealed fear of punishment--a state of the soul which the -most prominent thinkers have, with good reason, stigmatised as a -manifestation of weakness and cowardice. But, however much that is -foreign to it and of an inferior order may have been associated with -conscience, nevertheless, judging conduct, as it does, according to the -inward disposition and not according to consequences, conscience is a -unique, original phenomenon. To whatever extent conscience, as we know -it, may have had its source in something external, and in however great -a degree it may depend upon changing circumstances, it is nevertheless -impossible to explain the fundamental fact by reference to the -environment. For, if our life depended solely and entirely upon the -environment and no movement arose from within, all influence from -without could do nothing but subdue us by sheer force; there could never -be an independent recognition and acceptance of the command addressed -to us; never the feeling of an inner responsibility for conduct; never -an independent extension of the original precept; and yet all these -phenomena are in fact found in human experience. True, we are affected -very greatly by external forces; but that they may achieve what they do -a movement from within must meet them, take them up, and carry them -further. The enormous amount of pretence which flourishes amongst us -with regard to matters of morality, and which so easily obscures our -vision for the chief matter, would be unintelligible if the spiritual -did not manifest some kind of independence in the moral judgment. Unless -there is such a development towards independence, the moral judgment -must also, as far as its content is concerned, be determined by the -condition of the social environment: it could never follow a course of -its own; never give rise to anything new; never enter into inner -conflict with the environment. Yet, as a matter of fact, we find these -tendencies in abundance. The individual is able, in the light of his own -moral conviction, to approve and value something which all around him -reject; and conversely, to condemn and reject something which all around -him esteem and respect; and this he is able to do under the compulsion -of inner necessity, and not simply out of a love of vain paradox. This -opposition of individuals to the condition of things in the social -environment has been the main source of all inner progress in matters of -morality. For it is in matters of morality, in particular, that that -which hitherto had given no offence has become intolerable to -individuals; and that new and imperative demands such as had never been -made before have emerged with constraining power. Or did the idea of -humanity, the abolition of slavery, and the commandment to love one's -enemies, for example, arise in some other way? If in respect of such -matters as these that which on its first appearance was paradoxical -quickly came to be regarded as self-evident, what else was operative in -bringing about this result than an inner necessity, from which, when -once we become conscious of it, we can never again escape? Suitable -conditions in the social environment were, of course, also necessary for -the fulfilment and the extension of those moral requirements; but they -could never have originated from the environment, or have derived from -it their unconditional nature, their certainty of victory, and their -indifference to all external consequences: qualities without which they -could not have effected what they have. - -In the life of the individual the moral judgment manifests its power in -affirmation as well as in negation. If it approves one's disposition and -conduct, it gives to life a greater stability and joyfulness; if it -condemns, then existence is paralysed by division. In this experience it -is implicitly assumed that the distinction of good and evil has its -source neither in the preferences of the human individual nor in those -of the human society; but that in this antithesis a new order that is -present only to the inner nature is revealed. - -We see, therefore, that in contrast with its attachment to the external, -life attains an independent inwardness which we are compelled to -acknowledge, however mysterious the inward may at present be to us, and -however little we may be able to define its nature more closely. Earlier -in our investigation we were led to recognise a movement of life from -the narrowness of the individual to the comprehensiveness of the whole. -It is obvious that our two results are closely connected with each other -and refer to each other. For we attain a unity, as contrasted with the -juxtaposition of the elements of the visible world, only through a -powerful activity from within; but this activity cannot emerge unless -life forms a whole in contrast with its dissipation into disconnected -points. - -These two developments are obviously sides of the same life--a life -which bears a totally different character from that of the psychical -life which forms a mere continuation of nature. Within the soul itself -there is a distinction between two levels, of which that other than -nature may in agreement with established usage be called "spiritual," -however little may be implied by this expression; however mysterious, -indeed, the conception may for the present be. In contrast with the old, -this new level is unmistakably at a disadvantage. The old seems to -include the whole range of human existence; the new, on the other hand, -must toilsomely struggle for a place of some kind. Nevertheless, in -spite of its external insignificance, the spiritual gives birth to a -movement of no mean character; in face of all opposition it seeks to -form a centre of life of its own, and to make this the chief basis of -effort; it is to be found thus in the life of mankind as revealed in -history, and also in that of the individual. Within the conception of -culture we comprehend all achievements distinctive of man. But what is -culture if it does not assure to man a position independent of nature; -if it does not set up ideals which can arise only out of a new life? -Ultimately the chief motive-power of culture is the longing of mankind -for a new kind of being in contrast to that of nature. Culture -necessarily becomes superficial and empty when it directs human striving -to external objects and does not lead through all occupation with -externals to its own development and to the advance of its own being. -The work of culture is genuine and powerful only when man seeks in it -his own true and ultimate self. - -How every development of the spiritual advances towards the attainment -of a new unity of life may be more clearly seen in the case of the -individual, in relation to whom we meet with the conceptions of -personality and of spiritual individuality. However much confusion there -may be in the ordinary use of these conceptions, the conception of -personality merits the estimation in which it is held only if it is -regarded as the bearer of a new life in contrast to that of nature, and -not simply as something added to nature. The development is more evident -with the conception of spiritual individuality. For such an -individuality is by no means something given to a man in the natural -characteristics which he brings with him into life. Within this -particular nature, as a rule, many things, significant and -insignificant--things which are original in himself and things which are -due to external influence--are chaotically confused; and, as it lacks an -inner unity and an adjustment of the different aspects, one aspect may -directly contradict another. If the individual is no more than these -natural characteristics, he can become active as a whole only through a -summation of the multiplicity, and not through a dominating and -organising unity. With the transition to the new kind of life a desire -for such a unity awakens and gives rise to a definitely characteristic -movement. A unity must be found within us in some manner; it must be -included in the range of possibilities open to us. But in order to -obtain supremacy it must be grasped, be appropriated and strengthened by -our self-activity. We ourselves therefore become a task in the treatment -of which it is possible to fall into serious error. Looked at from this -point of view our spiritual nature is seen to be the product of our own -activity. We cannot fail to recognise a peculiar interweaving of freedom -and fate in our existence. - -The inner history of all creative minds shows how great may be the -inspiration and the tension which arise in this striving to realise a -spiritual nature; an inspiration and a tension which are evident even -when the main direction for the realisation of this nature has been -easily found and only the more detailed form has to be sought: they are -still more apparent when the main direction itself is in question. How -toilsome it has often been for a man to come to that in which his -strength lay, and with the aid of reflection to attain a state of secure -creative activity; to unite all forces to a common achievement; and to -make a distinct advance beyond the traditional position of the spiritual -life! Life was by no means a completed gift and something to be easily -enjoyed, even in the case of natures lavishly equipped by destiny--as, -for example, Goethe: it was in a struggle for itself that it won a -complete independence and a proud superiority over everything external. -This struggle was being fought in all his cares, in all thought for -natural and social well-being, all utilitarian considerations in regard -to the externals of life. It gave to the man amid all his doubts and -agitations the certainty of being something unique, something -indispensable; at the same time it lifted him into an invisible world, -and enabled him to understand his own life as an end complete in itself. -How different this is from the struggle for existence, for the -preservation of physical life; and how clearly a new life, another kind -of reality, arises in these movements! The new life does not by any -means appear only at the heights of spiritual creation; rather it would -be true to say that the life which is present in the whole of human -existence becomes most easily discernible at these heights. The movement -towards a spiritual individuality may be begun in the most simple -conditions; and it is not to be estimated according to the degree of its -achievement. For, where world stands against world, everything depends -upon the decision with regard to the fundamental principle, and this may -be made at any point. The mere possibility of making such a decision -testifies here irrefutably to a reality: the reality of a new order of -things. - - -3. THE INNER CONTRADICTION OF THE NEW LIFE - -The conclusion we are led to is that a new life distinct from that of -nature arises in our soul. With a great diversity of manifestations, it -surrounds us with an indisputable actuality; no one can fail to -recognise that something of importance, something distinctive comes to -pass in us. But as soon as we try to comprehend these manifestations as -a whole, and to ascertain the meaning of the whole, a difficult problem -arises. It is comparatively easy, however, to come to an understanding -as to the negative aspect of the matter. It is obvious that the new life -is not an embellishment or a continuation of nature; it would bring with -it something essentially new. Again, it is obvious that it is not a -product of a single psychical function, such as thought or feeling; it -would form a whole transcending the psychical functions, and from this -whole determine the form of each function distinctively. But what is -this new reality and this whole to which the course of the movement -trends? The more we reflect over the question the more strongly we feel -that it is a direction rather than a conclusion that is offered to us in -this matter; something higher, something inward and so on is to evolve, -but what is embedded in the inward and in what this supremacy is based -is at present not apparent. Further, every attempt at a more definite -orientation at once reveals to us a wide gulf, indeed a harsh -contradiction, between the content of that which is sought and the form -of existence from which it is sought. The chief impulse of the spiritual -life is that it wills to liberate us from the merely human; to give us a -share in the life of the whole; to remove us from a happening between -things to their fundamental happening. Seen from within, the history of -humanity is primarily an increasing deliverance of life from bondage to -the narrowly human, an emergence of something more than human, and an -attempt to shape our life from the point of view of this: it is an -increasing conflict of man with himself. At the same time, however, it -is a taking up of the whole into himself; since man in all his planning -and striving is related to the whole, it seems to him that his own -nature must remain alien to himself if the whole does not disclose -itself to him and allow him to participate in a life which has its -source in ultimate depths; if in the life of the whole he does not find -a purer and a more genuine self. The idea of truth impels us beyond all -the limitations to which a particular being is subject, beyond all -communication of things from without. There must be nothing between us -and reality; the inner life of reality must become ours, and thus our -life will emerge for the first time from a shadowy existence to full -reality, from the narrowness of the mere individual to the -comprehensiveness of infinity. The idea of the good makes similar -demands. To the spiritual movement, the advancement of merely human -well-being is far too mean an aim. This movement makes us clearly -conscious of the triviality of mere happiness; of the oppressive and -destructive effect of a continual reference to our own subjectivity; and -of the unworthiness of treating love and justice as only means to our -welfare. It becomes at the same time an urgent duty to break through the -narrow limitations of the natural ego, and to conduct our life from the -point of view of objective truth and comprehensiveness, and so for the -first time to become capable of genuine love and justice. - -It is true that these aims are lofty, and, we feel we have the right to -say, aims that may not be rejected. But it is not at all evident how -they are to be reached from the position of man; it is not at all clear -how man shall press forward from mere existence to the creative basis, -from the part to the whole: for his particularity and his mere existence -hold him fixed. But in his existence nature preponderates by far: -individual tendencies of a new order do appear; but how could they in -their state of isolation and weakness bring about a revolution and place -life on a new foundation? As a matter of fact, we usually find these -impulses to a new life drawn into the service of natural and social -self-preservation, and, over against the passionate struggle for -existence, condemned to complete impotence and shadowiness. - -The whole life of culture makes us clearly conscious of this perplexity. -The essence of that life consists in this, and by this alone can it be -held as true--that it wills to build up a new, spiritual reality within -the sphere of humanity. But to what extent is such a reality -recognisable on the basis of experience? In and with all civilisation -man continues obstinately bent upon the attainment of his own ends: the -struggle for material goods exerts an immense influence upon and -controls men; an indescribable amount of pretence and hypocrisy -accompanies and surrounds the spiritual movement. Between that which man -really strives for, and that which he asserts that he is striving for, -and which perhaps it is his intention to strive for, there is great -divergence. Falsehood like this is not limited to individuals; our whole -culture is one monstrous deception in so far as it promises to develop -humanity to something new and higher, while in reality the new is -occupied mostly with polishing up the old, the life of nature, to give -it a glittering appearance. It is on this account that in times of -criticism and introspection so much opposition has been offered to -culture; that such passionate scorn has been aroused against the -hypocrisy and pretence which pervades its whole life. But although we -are fully aware of its deplorable state, we do not break its power over -us. It is perhaps the most bitter of all our experiences that we are -held fast under the spell of a condition of things concerning the vanity -and futility of which no one with any insight has the slightest doubt. - -However, in moralising over this state of things we ought to guard -ourselves from becoming too passionate. For it is a question whether it -could be otherwise; whether the fault is in any way in our will, and is -not solely and entirely in the nature of our being itself. For it is -certainly a contradiction throughout that man, who is an individual -being existing by the side of others, and whose life belongs to the -domain of experience, should set himself in a universal life -transcending all particularity and live from the bases of reality. How -can that which is primarily a part of a given world build up a new -world? Ideas like those of the true and the good are, from this point of -view, simply delusions, manifest impossibilities; man may trouble and -weary himself with them, but all his endeavour only leads him into a -state of greater confusion. These ideas are to him for ever an "other" -world; he may expand himself and develop, but he does not come a step -nearer by doing so. - -It is true that in striving for truth, man advances beyond sense -presentation to the activity of thought; but the thoughts always remain -his--thoughts of mere man. However much he may widen his own sphere as a -consequence of his reflection upon them, he does not go beyond it. In -history also the striving for a scientific comprehension of truth -appears to be a vain struggle; the passing through different phases has -not brought it nearer its aim so much as, with ever-increasing -clearness, it has manifested the impossibility of attaining what is -sought. - -The ancient conception of truth, with its belief in a relationship of -the being of man with the whole; with it assumption of an easy -transference of life from one to the other; with its view of truth as an -agreement of thought with an external reality, has through the course of -life become untenable; it has been rejected through the influence of the -tendency of our being to become more inward. For this tendency -necessarily led to a detachment from the environment of the world, and -to a separation of the two sides of our experience. We became clearly -conscious of this separation at the beginning of the Modern Age. We saw -that, if we were not to give up all claim to truth, only one course -remained possible: to make a division within the human domain, a -division between a merely human and something else which might be -regarded as the presence of universal and genuine life in man. And so -Spinoza distinguished an objective thought from the springs of the -emotions; Kant distinguished practical reason from the theoretical which -is bound up with the limitations of human nature; and Hegel elevated the -thought-process, which manifests itself in the work of universal -history, far above the opinions and the wishes of individuals. Each of -these championed a distinctive conception of truth and a characteristic -form of the spiritual life; but with regard to all attempts we come to -doubt whether even that proclaimed as more than human is not still -within the domain of man; whether in every case we do not wrongly -declare the last point which we reach to be the deepest basis of -reality. - -The position is somewhat similar with regard to the idea of the good. In -the attempts to which we have referred, it passed current as a -deliverance from all selfish happiness, which was felt to be intolerably -narrow. A new, purer, and more comprehensive life is to proceed from -the winning of a new position. Now, there are many different conceptions -of happiness, and higher levels are distinguished plainly from lower. -But the highest level does not transcend human desire; man must bring -all into relation with his own well-being. He cannot in opposition to -his own well-being adopt something alien as an end in itself; his -activity can be aroused for nothing which has not some value for -himself. In this case also, therefore, the bounds of his life hold him -fast, and, unless these bounds are transcended, the good cannot be -distinguished from the useful. Of this a clear confirmation is furnished -by the experiences of religions. In their origin they wished to free man -from himself and to set him in a new life--whether they promised -tranquillity in a surrender to the infinite whole or won a positive -content by the revelation of a kingdom of divine love. How soon the -succession of events has led back to a quest of happiness! How soon has -it become evident that the religions have far less revealed a new world -to the majority of mankind than chained them more firmly to the old; and -that they easily arouse to greater power the raw instinct of life, which -they desired to overcome! - -We seem to be shut in on all sides: it seems a monstrous inconsistency -to wish to build up from man a world transcending man; to remove him -into a world other than that of a man. A world of this kind is, however, -essential to the spiritual life; with its abandonment that life is only -a delusion; and the less intelligent people who reject as a meaningless -folly all striving for the true and the good seem to be right. - - * * * * * - -Why do we refuse to adopt this view, and to discontinue an endeavour the -aims of which appear to be unattainable? In the first place, because the -movement cannot be given up so easily as those critics imagine who adopt -this view; for it does not consist simply of explanations and theories -that might be completely refuted by rigorous argument, but a certain -reality has been evolved, desires aroused, forces called into life, and -movements inaugurated. Even if they halt in their course they were -something; they do not disappear therefore before the attacks of -Scepticism; further, however mean their results may be, they prove to be -strong enough to indicate the limitations in the life of nature, and to -make it inadequate for us. The matter is the more mysterious in that the -striving is anything but a product of the natural desire for happiness. -For the movement disturbs all our complacency; it leads man to be -discontented with that which hitherto had fully satisfied him; it -surrounds him with fixed organisations; desires from him much labour and -sacrifice, and makes existence, not easier, but more difficult for him. -Delusions are wont to deceive us by pleasing pictures; to attract us -with the promise of pleasure and enjoyment. How does a delusion, that -imposes so much toil and trouble upon us, win so much power over us? -There is another matter to be considered in this connection. A complete -renunciation can appear possible only because it is not clearly -perceived how much which we cannot give up and which ultimately we have -no desire to give up is involved in it. Only a want of clearness of -thought, and still more a weakness of character, could wish to retain in -the particular case what was given up as a whole; could affirm as effect -what it denied as cause. As soon as this course is recognised to be -impossible, it becomes evident that with the rejection of the spiritual -life everything is abandoned which gives to our life dignity, greatness, -and inner unity, and joins us to others with an inward bond. Realities -such as love and honour, truth and right, must be regarded as empty -forms; and even science must come to an end, because there is no longer -any inner unity of work, no objective necessity. - -Such considerations again show us that a complete negation is -impossible; and it seems that we must remain for ever in painful -suspense between an unattainable affirmation and an impossible negation. -We might be able to endure this condition of affairs if it concerned a -problem which arose in reference to something of little importance to -our life, something that we could relegate to the background, and simply -permit to lie there, without compromising our life. But our problem lies -at the centre of life; is, in fact, itself the centre. To be left in -suspense here means to condemn life as a whole to a state of paralysis, -to surrender it to complete dissolution. Against this everyone who has -any vital energy in him will contend; with his whole might he will seek -to escape from a condition so intolerable; he will not hold back from -making a bold venture, mindful of the words of Goethe, "Necessity is the -best counsellor." - -In seeking a way out of the contradiction, it is essentially necessary -not to forget the source of the contradiction. We saw that source to be -in the fact that the spiritual life would set up a new world, and at the -same time remains bound up with the merely human and presents itself as -an endeavour of mere man. To the spiritual life a universal character is -indispensable; of this claim nothing can be abated. There must therefore -be a change as regards man; it must be that more comes to pass in him -than the first impression makes evident. It must be that the spiritual -within him, which seems at first to be his own product, is a -participation in wider connections; the spiritual must be operative in -man, but not originate out of the merely human. It is true that this -makes a reversal of the traditional position necessary, and not merely -of its representations; and such a reversal provokes serious doubt. -Modern science, however, has taught us sufficiently often that the first -appearance of anything need not be the ultimate one; that there may be -cogent reasons for regarding something that at first seems based in -itself as the proof of something existing beyond. Thus, modern natural -science has transformed the world of sense into a world present only to -the eyes of research. Certainly, science accomplishes these changes -within the bounds of experience: on the contrary, in regard to our -problem, in which the fundamental form of reality is in question, it is -indispensable that we should transcend these bounds; without a change in -respect of the whole, and hence without a resort to metaphysics, it is -not possible to accomplish our purpose. It is quite clear that the -tendency of our time is opposed to appeals to metaphysics: yet it is a -question how far this attitude is justified. So far as metaphysics -assumes the same form as in the past--that of conceptual speculation of -a thought hovering unrestrained over the existing world--then it is -rightly opposed. But the attitude is unjustifiable which assumes that -with the overthrow of the older metaphysics all metaphysics may be -ignored. For a metaphysic can proceed also from the whole life, and need -not be a product of mere thought. The implication therefore is this, -that the centre of life itself must be changed, and thus a revolution of -the previous condition accomplished; that an actuality already operative -in life is to be given its rightful place and brought to its full -effect. The business of metaphysics, therefore, is not to add something -in thought to a reality which lies before us, or to weave such a reality -into a texture of conceptions; but to seek to grasp reality in itself, -and to rouse it to life in its entire depth for ourselves. Every change -of thought then rests on a change of life. Such a metaphysic may appeal -to the saying of Hebbel, "Only fools will banish metaphysic from the -drama; it makes a great difference, however, whether life evolves out of -metaphysic or metaphysic out of life." - -Even if our age rejects a metaphysic of this kind also, if it surrenders -itself without resistance to the inconsistencies of the world of sense, -this would be the last thing which could deter us from an appeal to -metaphysic. For the inner cleavages and the superficiality of the life -of our time--and we saw reason to believe that these are facts--stand in -the closest relation to the rejection of metaphysics: this rejection has -made the age inwardly insignificant. If an indirect proof of the -necessity of a revolutionary transformation of life, and at the same -time of a metaphysic may be offered, our age furnishes one quite -sufficient in its own experiences; its opposition can be only a -recommendation of an appeal to metaphysic. - -The one main thesis which it is essentially necessary to establish is -analysed in sufficient detail throughout the whole course of our -investigation; it simply sums up that which has already been advanced -point by point. The intolerable contradiction arises, as we saw, from -this, that the spiritual life with its new world should be a product of -mere man, and that that life should remain within man and at the same -time lead in its essence beyond him. This contradiction cannot be -overcome otherwise than by our recognising and acknowledging in the -spiritual life a universal life, which transcends man, is shared by him, -and raises him to itself. That this transition brings with it a change -in the appearance of life and of the world as a whole, and that as a -result our striving is brought under entirely different conditions, -needs more detailed presentation. - - - - -(b) THE DEVELOPMENT OF THE MAIN THESIS - -1. The Main Thesis and the Possibility of a New System of Life - -(a) _The Development of the Spiritual Life to Independence_ - - -Our investigation reached its highest point in the demand that the -spiritual life should become independent of man. Man cannot produce a -spiritual life of his own capacity: a spiritual world must impart itself -to him and raise him to itself. It must be shown that this does not by -any means signify only a change of name, a new labelling of an old -possession, but implies far-reaching changes, and indeed involves a -complete reversal of the first condition. At the same time the course of -the investigation must establish that this transition to the spiritual -life is not something subsequently inferred or offered simply for the -explanation of an otherwise unintelligible fact, but that it would -overcome a false appearance, and help a misunderstood truth to its -right. The fact that is affirmed should become an immediate experience -of one's own and should advance life rather than knowledge. Only the -whole investigation and not an introductory consideration can furnish a -proof of our contention. - -There are within our own soul distinctive movements tending in -directions different from those of nature. We recognised that there is a -life which proceeds from some kind of comprehensive whole; a life which -transcends the opposition of subject and object, and evolves a -self-consciousness in contrast with the relation to externals. All these -features present a quite different appearance, form a more coherent -whole, and will occupy a more definite position in the representation -of reality, if in them an independent life superior to mere man is -recognised and acknowledged. The principal reason for this is that it is -only by means of that deliverance from the simply human that the new -life is able to express its own nature clearly and to realise as part of -its own nature what otherwise seemed to have its source in something -external. The individual traits that we become aware of are the -revelation of a universal life, if they are no longer regarded as -limited by the idiosyncrasies of the human. With this acknowledgment -they can gain ascendancy over man and prove their power upon him. - -We saw that it is characteristic of the spiritual life that it is lived -from the whole; the elements are fashioned by a comprehensive unity; the -different complexes and tendencies which arise in this life strive -ultimately towards a single aim. We saw also that it was absolutely -impossible that the tendency to universality should be originated by -man, whose chief movement is towards differentiation and division; and, -further, that it should be realised by him in face of the opposition of -nature, which extends to the immeasurable in matters great and small. -The unity that is necessary for this cannot arise out of the many as an -ultimate result; it must be original and be operative from the -beginning. We may postulate such a unity only if the spiritual life is -itself a universal life transcending that of the isolated individuals; -if it bears in itself a unity which takes the multiplicity up into -itself. And so the whole from an abstract conception is for the first -time raised to a living reality; and only on thus becoming a reality can -it exercise a distinctive power upon individuals and in contrast to -individuals; and inwardly unite and essentially raise them. Only in this -way is it conceivable that another kind of activity having its source -within the soul may exert itself in opposition to the mechanism of -nature and transcend it; and that selfishness and spiritual weakness may -in some way be overcome. Man, so far as he shares in the spiritual life, -is more than a mere individual; a universal life becomes his own and -works within him as a power of his life. - -Further, the taking up of the object into the life-process, the -transcendence of the antithesis of subject and object, is characteristic -of the spiritual life. But this remained an inner contradiction, a -complete impossibility so long as the spiritual life was regarded as an -occurrence in a being who, with a closed nature, stands over against -things as though they were alien; and who can take up nothing into -himself without accommodating it to his own particular nature. The -contradiction is removed only when the spiritual becomes independent; -for then both sides of the antithesis come to belong to each other and -are related to each other in a single life; and a life transcending the -division may develop, a life that produces the antithesis from within, -lives in the different sides and seeks in them its own perfection. The -life-process is now seen to be a movement that is neither from object to -subject, nor from subject to object; neither the subject's attainment of -content from the object, nor the object's becoming controlled by the -subject, but an advance of a self-conscious life in and through the -antithesis. Life, by this movement, ceases to be a single, thin thread; -it wins breadth; it expands to an inner universality. At the same time a -depth is manifested in that a persistent and comprehensive activity -emerges which lives in the antithesis. In this manner life first becomes -a life in a spiritual sense, a self-conscious and self-determining life, -a self-consciousness. - -That this change is possible and brings with it a new type of life is -shown with complete clearness by experience in the separate departments -of the spiritual life. Thus, artistic creation at its highest is neither -the production of the truest possible copy of an external object, the -artist painfully abstaining from all subjective addition; nor a -presentation of subjective situations and moods, the artist endeavouring -to the utmost to avoid everything objective; but a transcendence of the -opposition of soulless objectivity and empty subjectivity by an art that -is sovereign, autonomous, and with a character of its own; the creative -activity belonging to which gives life from the soul to the object, and -moulds the soul by means of the object. This kind of artistic creation -is directed primarily towards an inner truth, not towards a truth that -is produced by the object, but one that arises only in the contact of -the object with the soul. It is manifest that creation is effected here -not as an interaction between subject and object, but above and through -this antithesis; it is only by transcending the antithesis that the -artist can give himself in his work, lend to it a soul, place an -infinity within it. In this respect conduct manifests a character -similar to that of creation. Conduct would never attain an inner -stability and enter upon an independent course, if it could not raise -itself above the opposition of a submission to orders that are forced -upon it from without, and a mere play of subjective inclination; if it -were not able to become the self-assertion and self-development of a -life transcending that opposition. At this point also the acknowledgment -of an independent spiritual life teaches us to comprehend as a whole -that which, in a many-sided development, the different departments of -life show to be real. - -The obscurity in which the conception of inwardness was hitherto -involved begins to disappear when the spiritual life is no longer -regarded as supplementary but as an independent life. It cannot be -denied that, within humanity, there is an endeavour to develop the life -of the soul to a state of self-determining activity and, at the same -time, to free that life from the bondage to sense in which it remains at -the level of nature. Yet, definite affirmation that shall correspond to -the negation of sense has been lacking; it has not been clear how -inwardness might find content and characteristic forms; there has been -no advance from the subjective to the substantial. But since a universal -activity is operative within the multiplicity and through the division, -and since it sets itself in the division and from this returns to -itself, a self-conscious inwardness becomes conceivable which has a life -of its own with new experiences. Since within this life "to receive" -presupposes the comprehending power and the self-determining activity of -a vital whole, something other than sense is able to evolve and through -all the persistence of sense to become the chief matter. The spiritual -life is not directed to a reality adjacent to it, but evolves a reality -out of itself; or rather, it evolves as a reality, a kingdom, a world; -and so it advances from vague outline to more complete development; it -struggles for itself, for its own perfection, not for anything external. - -It is directly implied in the above conception that the spiritual life -is something different from single psychical functions, such as -cognition, volition, and the like; and that man, so far as he shares in -it, is more than one such function or a sum of such functions. For these -functions come under the antithesis of subject and object, while the -spiritual life transcends it. It is also clear that the spiritual life -does not change this or that in a life which already exists, or add this -or that to it, but that it introduces a new kind of life--a life by -which man is distinguished clearly from everything inferior to him. - -If the spiritual life is an evolution of a reality in the life-process, -then the question arises as to how this reality is related to the world -that immediate experience shows us to be surrounded by. As surely as man -in his subjective reflection is able to free himself from the world and -to place himself in opposition to it, so there can be no doubt that the -spiritual life belongs to the permanent reality of the world and, as we -see it, grows up out of its movement. The transition to an independent -inwardness is not something which happens externally to the world but -within it: no special sphere, separate from all the rest, is originated; -but reality itself evolves an inner life: it is the world itself that -reveals a spiritual depth, or, as we might say, a soul. We are not -justified in doubting and attacking this view simply because the -spiritual life meets us only in man, and thus, in contrast with the -infinity of nature, is in its external manifestation so insignificant. -For something essentially new appears in it, something that involves -another order of things: the fact that little falls within our range of -vision is in this connection not at all relevant. If anyone is disturbed -and driven to denial by the external insignificance of the -manifestations of the spiritual life, he shows only that he -misunderstands what is distinctive and revolutionising in that life. The -spiritual life is not to be thought of merely in reference to the -experiences of the individual, but also to the work of humanity, to -history, to the advance of culture. All these show us a development of -life that presents the world from a new side; and this must be an -important factor in the estimation of the world, especially if the -spiritual is recognised as having a life independent of man. - -The inward must necessarily present itself as the fundamental and the -comprehensive; as that which in its invisibility sustains, dominates, -and unifies the visible world. Nature, which there was a tendency to -regard as the whole, is now of the essence of a wider reality and a -stage in its development; and it is impossible for the conception formed -from it to be regulative of the whole. Ultimately, therefore, reality -cannot be regarded as something dead, detached, and given: it signifies -to us something living, something experienced in itself, something -sustained by incessant activity. At the same time, the lateness of the -appearance of the spiritual life within our realm and the many ways in -which this appearance is conditioned force us to acknowledge that the -life of the world as a whole has a history. The conception of history -that we have become familiar with in its application to nature and to -the spiritual life throughout is now extended to the relation between -the two. However many mysteries it yet involves, definite progress in -our conception of the world must be admitted. - -Most of all it is man with his life and endeavour that appears in a new -light. Two worlds meet together in him, and, indeed, not merely in such -a manner that he provides the place in which they meet and enter into -conflict, but so that he acquires an independent participation in the -new world, and through his own decision co-operates in its development. -For spiritual life, with its self-determining activity, can never become -itself as a mere effect; to become this it must be apprehended and -roused to activity as cause. But it is cause and animating power only in -its being as a whole; so, as a whole it must be present to man and -become his own life. Thus, in contrast to the particularity of his -natural existence, a life having its source in the infinite grows up -within him: in the former a mere part of a world; in the latter he -becomes a world in himself: in the one, bound up with the particular -nature of man; in the other, he is elevated above all particularity to -something more than human, to something cosmic. - -To such changes in the content of life there must be corresponding -changes in its form. Empirical consciousness with its discreteness and -succession of presentations and states cannot possibly comprehend the -new life; to do that the soul must acquire a greater depth. It must be -capable of an activity which, with single phases, extends into this -consciousness, but which as a whole and in its creative work must -transcend it. With the acknowledgment of an independent spiritual life -in man two questions giving rise to different methods of treatment -necessarily become distinguished: the one as to the nature and extent of -the spiritual that is revealed in him; and the other, how, under the -specific conditions of his nature, it emerges and establishes itself. It -will become evident how important it is to distinguish these -sufficiently, and yet on the other hand to associate them closely. - - -(b) _The Demands of a New System of Life_ - -If the acknowledgment of an independent spirituality thus alters the -view of reality as a whole, and in particular of man, we are faced with -the question whether we may not attain a new synthesis through this -spirituality, and whether it does not begin a characteristic formation -of our world. Our treatment of the philosophies of life of the present -day makes it possible for us to approach this question with definite -demands. We saw life branch off in different movements, each of which -took up into itself a wealth of fact; but we found none of them strong -enough to absorb the others into itself, or even able to estimate them. -If life is not finally to fall into dissolution, it needs, in contrast -to these movements, one more universal in character, and this can be -more than a weak compromise only when there is a still more fundamental -relation of life than that which the developments that we have -considered proffered. In that case the more original basal relation -ought to be able to manifest itself as a presupposition of those -developments; it should make intelligible how divisions can originate in -the condition of man; in particular it should illuminate the opposition -between the idealistic and the naturalistic systems of life--an -opposition which, like a deep gulf, divides the life of the present. In -short, it should depend upon whether the change that results with the -acknowledgment of the independence of the spiritual life makes it -possible for us permanently to transcend those oppositions and to work -towards their reconciliation. But we ought then to see that, with its -universality, the system of life striven for does not fall into a state -vague and lacking in character. Through its whole being, in affirmation -and in negation, the system of life must definitely express itself; it -must synthesise and differentiate, elevate and exclude. But it will be -able to do this only if it produces a new kind of life-process and a new -web of life: only thus can essentially new evaluations and tasks, new -experiences and genuine developments, originate; only thus can life as a -whole be definitely raised. Of course, this new cannot signify something -that has just been discovered and that has arisen suddenly. How could it -be a truth which gives to us security, and how could it dominate our -life, if it is not rooted in our being, and if it had not exerted an -influence at all times? But it makes a great difference whether the new -has been concealed, obscure and against the tendency of our own -activity; or whether it is taken up fully in our own self-determining -activity and thereby essentially advanced. If, on the one hand, the new -must be something old, on the other hand the old must become something -new if it is to liberate, strengthen, and elevate our life where its -needs are so urgent. - - -(c) _The Spiritual Basis of the System of Life_ - -There can be no doubt that the acknowledgment of the independence of the -spiritual life involves the recognition of a new fundamental relation of -our life. This relation is no other than that of man to the spiritual -world, which is immanent in him and at the same time transcends him. It -is more original than the relations implied in the systems of the -present day; for these, even though contrary to their own knowledge and -intention, all presuppose this fundamental relation to the spiritual -life. Religion could not be so violently attacked and so zealously -denied by so many, if the relation of life to God were the absolute -relation and were present before all others. The value of religion -depends essentially upon the content of the spiritual life which it -serves. With the mere relation of life to a supernatural power, the -nature of which is not more closely defined--with mere blind -devotion--nothing of value is attained. An honest religious attitude of -a formal kind can go together, on the one hand, with spiritual poverty -and blindness, and, on the other, with hatred and passion. How sad the -condition of things in general has often been even when religion has -shown a strong development of power! How often the help of divine power -has been invoked even in the commission of crime! If, however, the value -of religion and its effect on the substance of life are measured -according to its spiritual content, then this content necessarily -becomes the chief object of attention and conduct. We can assure -ourselves of the relation to a supernatural power only from the -experiences of the spiritual life, and not previously to this life and -independently of it. The relation of life to the spiritual life must -therefore necessarily precede its relation to God; life must be certain -of a universal spiritual character before it can assume a truly -religious one. - -We find the case to be no different as regards the system of Immanent -Idealism. It is open to considerable doubt whether the world as it lies -before us can be looked upon as a pure unfolding of the spiritual life, -as this Idealism asserts. In any case, for the spiritual life to -comprehend the world within itself it must itself be established as a -universal power, and clearly distinguished from mere man. Otherwise the -way of Immanent Idealism leads to an anthropomorphism of a more refined -kind; and there is a danger that the whole world which this system -champions may be criticised hostilely and rejected as simply human. -Immanent Idealism, therefore, also points to the problem of substantial -spiritual life. - -The naturalistic systems do the same thing in a different way, and this, -indeed, in contradiction to their main contention. For, when they -attempted to produce a system from themselves, they could achieve their -object only in that they were implicitly based upon the spiritual life, -and introduced again indirectly that which they had previously rejected. -They are developments of the spiritual life in particular directions and -under particular circumstances: they think that they are able to -accomplish out of their own resources something which they accomplish -only with the help of a fundamental spiritual life; and so the more -consistent they are in their denial of an independent spirituality the -more inevitably they lose all internal coherence. - -Thus from whatever point we start we come to the question of an -independent spirituality; an answer to this question is involved in -every system of life. But as its implications are not distinctly -recognised, it does not receive its proper due. If we consider the -question adequately, it will be found that a universal life must precede -all differentiation and division; and that from this life each movement -must receive a new elucidation. A multiplicity within the whole is quite -intelligible, because it is a development of the spiritual life, not -absolutely, that is in question, but in relation to the position of man -and under the conditions to which he is subject. The desire to give -greater stability to our life in opposition to the never-ceasing flow of -appearances that constitutes our immediate existence, also compels us -strongly to emphasise the importance of the relation to the spiritual -life, which is acknowledged as independent. Without an elevation above -this constant change all spiritual work must inevitably become -disintegrated, and no truth of any kind would be possible to us. In the -Modern Age especially there is a keen desire for a firm basis, as a -secure support of life as a whole. But it is useless to seek this basis -in life as we immediately experience it, whether in thought, in -activity, or in anything else; for in the whole life of immediate -experience there is nothing that is free from change. To seek this basis -in a particular point is also to no purpose, even if one could be raised -to a position above change; for it could not operate beyond itself in -such a way as to support the rest of life. If, therefore, we would not -submit to a dissolution of life, we must seek a basis for it beyond its -immediate state and in a whole of life. Such a whole of life is offered -only by the spiritual life, which, transcending man, is also immanent in -him. Of course this cannot be taken possession of immediately at the -beginning of the journey of life; but it is held up to us as an aim, and -we can only gradually approach it. But how could it operate within us -thus, if our life had not some kind of participation in it from the -beginning; if our life were not in some way based in the spiritual life, -and in progressive activity only developed the spiritual that is in it? -For unless we are based in the spiritual life we should drift helplessly -to and fro in uncertainty, and our endeavour would never be -intelligible. From this point of view also, our relation to the -spiritual life is seen to be the fundamental problem that must precede -all others. - -If there can be no doubt that the problem of life is comprehended most -universally when we view it in relation to the spiritual life, there may -be all the more uncertainty whether all characteristic form and, with -it, all deep-reaching effect are not lost by reason of this -universality. If the conception of the spiritual life involved its usual -vagueness, this would in reality be the case, for recourse to it would -not effect any fundamental transformation of the immediate condition of -life; and we should not rise above the mere combination of its various -movements. The case is quite otherwise if the spiritual life is -distinguished clearly from the human and is acknowledged to be an -independent world. So understood, it must show a particular content, a -new structure of life, and must give a distinct form to everything that -it takes up into itself. It is necessary to consider, also, its relation -to the world of sense, and we may expect to be faced in this matter with -complications and problems that will agitate our life in its whole -extent, and set it in a new light. - -In the spiritual life we recognised a new world, a realm of inwardness, -which has become independent. Within this realm life cannot be directed -to something alien, but can be occupied only with itself, with its own -development. Its experiences cannot be related to externals; they must -lie in itself. Now, have we any knowledge of a movement that reaches -back in this manner to the elements of life? We perceive a movement of -this kind clearly enough. In the first place, all development of the -spiritual life shows, even within the individual, the attribute that a -universal mode of thought, conviction, disposition, sets itself in the -single function and continues present within it. The tendencies and -manifestations of the spiritual are not all at the same level of -development, but since a universal activity, a comprehensive and -persistent deed, is present in the particular manifestation, the process -acquires a depth, and a single act is able to give expression to a -tendency of the whole as well as to react upon it. - -But this movement extends beyond the immediate state of the soul of the -individual to spiritual work, and gives it a particular form. Life as a -whole, as reality's consciousness of itself, may be regarded as -throughout capable of a multiplicity, as containing within itself -different sides and possibilities. Since its evolution produces this -multiplicity, life as a whole can express itself in the individual -aspects and tendencies; expand them till they become different -departments; experience itself in particular ways in these departments, -and in so doing achieve a development of its own; it is able also to -bring these departments and their developments into their relation to -one another. Since thus, within the world as a whole, life concentrates -in different ways, and the particular tendencies which thus arise meet -and enter into conflict with one another, and since their conflict is in -particular a contest to determine the form of the whole, there is -revealed the prospect of a wealth of experiences which come not from -without but out of the movement of life itself, and spring from its -occupation with itself. The conflict between the different movements of -life must bring the whole into a state of tension and lead it to further -development. In the progressive formation of itself, in the development -of a reality conscious of itself, life through its movement finds itself -and develops a content. This movement will summon all the psychical -powers of man to activity; it cannot possibly proceed from them. If we -are to take part in the building up of that inner world, a spiritual -creative activity from the basis of our being must be operative through -these psychical functions, uniting them, and applying them as means and -instruments. - -If, for us men, life becomes conscious of its content only through -movement and conflict, nevertheless this content may not be regarded as -ultimately proceeding from them. If, as a whole, life did not transcend -movement and conflict, if the latter were not included within a -self-conscious and self-determining life, then they could yield no -inner result, and could not lead to the further development of the -whole. The attempts to derive this self-conscious and self-determining -life from ontological conceptions such as "being," "whole," "movement," -and so on, as the older metaphysics often undertook to do; or the -tendency to treat it only as a supplement to them, are to be dismissed -most decisively. The fundamental qualities that the spiritual life -evolves always presuppose a self-conscious life and become intelligible -only in relation to it. Without it, the conceptions of the true and the -good remain in complete obscurity, as will be shown later in more -detail. - -If our human reflection often advances from the indefinite to the -definite, from the abstract to the concrete, this does not involve that -the latter is originated from the former: the advance could not be -achieved unless that which comes at the end was operative from the -beginning as its basis and presupposition. - -If a self-conscious life unfolds itself with an increasing content -through all departments and activities of life, then these departments -will have their meaning and their value primarily in that which they -accomplish for the further development of that life, and in the -particular tendencies that they add to it: this yields a treatment and a -standard of value different from those which we are led to if we make -the psychical states of the individual our starting-point. The treatment -of religion, for example, as a mere occurrence of an unrestrained -psychical life may understand by religion a particular agitation of this -or that psychical function; but with this we do not obtain a spiritual -content. Again, it is not evident how a world of thought formed from -such an individual psychical life could acquire an independence of man, -and lift him above the position in which it finds him. The problem of -religion attains quite a different basis if the spiritual movements and -contents which emerge with it are emphasised; with this it develops and -discloses the reality of the spiritual life more deeply. Then through it -we may discover and win something that alters the condition of life, -transcends the immediate life of the soul, and is able to exert an -elevating influence upon man. The value and the truth of a particular -religion will be judged in the first place by the nature of the -spiritual substance that it offers, and the degree in which, in its -advance, it is able to join itself to the movement of life as a whole -and to guide it further. A great divergence is possible between this -spiritual substance and the movement and passion that call forth a -religion on the basis of humanity: the real is, in human relations, by -no means without further consideration to be regarded as rational. - -The case of the other departments of life is the same as that of -religion: the character and the value of all achievement depend entirely -upon the range and the kind of substantial spirituality that they -evolve. The same is valid of whole epochs and cultures, of peoples and -individuals. The exertion of the greatest energy upon externals and the -most revolutionary transformation of human conditions cannot protect us -from becoming inwardly destitute, or lead us beyond mere appearance to -genuine reality. On the contrary, the experience of history shows often -enough that spiritual revivals have been accompanied in their origin and -growth by manifestations externally insignificant; and that something -which struggles against the broad stream of human life fundamentally -changes the standards and values of our existence. - -Our whole spiritual life, therefore, constitutes a problem; it is an -indefatigable seeking and pressing forward. In self-consciousness the -framework is given which has to be filled; in it we have acquired only -the basis upon which the superstructure has to be raised. We have to -find experiences in life itself, to reveal something new, to develop -life, to increase its range and its depth. The endeavour to advance in -spirituality, to win itself through struggle, is the soul of the life of -the individual and of the work of universal history: where there is no -endeavour of this kind, there is no true life and no genuine history; -our activity in relation to the world as a whole assumes a different -form, and the world is represented differently and presents to us -different problems according to that which is attained here in the basal -structure of life. Life's struggle for itself, for its own content, its -own truth, is the greatest and most intense of all struggles. - -The passion which animates all the endeavour after a revelation of life -and to win life itself is no other than the desire for a genuine -reality: for a being within the activity, for a full as opposed to an -empty life. If the formation of reality from within once begins, and the -desire for a substantial inwardness gains the day over the merely -subjective, then the intolerable inadequacy of all that is usually -called life is bound to be strongly felt. The growth of intelligence has -led man beyond the life of nature and its blind actuality. In -intelligence, the inner life already proves far too independent to be -satisfied with being a mere appearance accompanying nature. With this -evolution the psychical powers win a greater freedom, and man is able to -face his environment more boldly: indeed, in his thought he can grasp an -infinity; and in arousing and using all his powers he may hope from his -own position, in the interaction of subject and environment, to give to -life a content, and thus to make it a genuine life. But here the -limitation of man and the contradictory character of life as it is -immediately experienced soon come to be felt. All the rousing of forces, -all the passing backwards and forwards between subject and object that -we experience in the immediate condition of life, does not lead beyond -interaction, and yields no content: it does not raise life to a -self-conscious and self-determining life; so that, in spite of all its -activity, our life in this condition remains inwardly alien. There is -thus an enormous disparity between the means that are offered and the -aims that are reached; an inward unrest; an incessant conflict, without -any prospect of victory, against the ever-recurring tendency to become -spiritually destitute; a state of dissatisfaction in the midst of all -results of an external kind. Only the revelation of a self-conscious -life, a life which itself evolves as a reality, can be the source of -progress, and lead from appearances and shadows to a genuine life. - -It is apparent that with such an aim a task is presented that dominates -and comprehends the whole extent of our existence. We have to take up -everything into that self-conscious and self-determining life and to -transform the condition of life as it lies immediately before us. A -demand of this kind is not limited to a change of this or that; it -implies a complete transformation and renewal. It not only involves the -whole multiplicity of life, but it must also itself tend to bring about -an increase in the multiplicity; indeed, this task first gives the -multiplicity a firm foundation and an inner value. For the development -and the formation of self-conscious life, it is essential, as we saw, -that life concentrate in particular tendencies and departments; that the -whole place itself in them, and return to itself from them; and that by -this they develop a life of their own and give rise to their own -experiences. To act thus, to advance the whole in its own development, -the individual concentrations of life must possess an inner spiritual -unity which comprehends and dominates all multiplicity. This is seen in -the case of individuals, peoples, epochs, and whole civilisations: only -by overcoming the state of confusion and division in which they at first -find themselves do they come to wrestle with the spiritual life as a -whole and win a spiritual character. These unities of life, however, -will enter into the most diverse relations with the whole and with one -another; and since in so doing they further self-conscious and -self-determining life, they develop reality without limit. From all the -facts we have considered we see that, with the attainment of -independence by the spiritual life, there emerges a distinctive kind of -being which everywhere exerts its activity, holds up a new aim, and -desires a transformation: life is for the first time placed on a firm -foundation, and taken possession of in the deepest source of its -movement. - - -(d) _Human Existence_ - -For the construction of a new system of life, this independent nature of -the spiritual life is primary and most essential. Such construction is -dependent in the second place upon the relation in which the development -of the self-conscious and self-determining life of reality stands to the -position and to the activity of man; in particular whether it wins this -position and activity for itself with ease or meets with definite -opposition. Now, there cannot be any doubt that the recognition of the -fact of the development of the spiritual life to independence of man, as -we traced it, must make us feel that the state of things at the usual -level of human life is most unsatisfactory. It is not that one or -another aspect is inadequate, but that as a whole it is definitely -opposed to the requirements of an independent spiritual life. For the -spirituality that is evolved here is treated for the most part as a mere -means in the pursuit of human welfare. Civilisation, at the level at -which we are most accustomed to it, lifts man above mere nature, but at -the same time it forces him into rivalry and conflict with his equals, -and leads him to expect happiness from victory. This is the case not -only among individuals but also among nations. Since the desire and the -conflict for more generate an indescribable amount of excitement and -passion, life seems to be full, whereas in reality it is entirely -lacking in content, and behind the tumult is felt to be empty. But man -has no intention of giving up all claim to a share in genuine -spirituality: and so he gives a better outward appearance to his -endeavour and his conduct, and practises deceit upon himself as well as -upon others. Genuine spiritual life cannot possibly proceed from -circumstances so contradictory and so confused. Neither can such -circumstances produce the concentration of life that is necessary for -the strengthening and advancement of the spiritual life. It is not the -abuse of some one thing that provokes attack: it is not a particular -failing, but the ordinary daily course which, unresistingly, man is -accustomed to accept as his world, that shows in its successes no less -than in its failures the greatest divergence from genuine spirituality. -It is just at the point where man becomes proud of his own doings and -makes much ostentatious display that he can least of all conceal the -spiritual poverty and the foolishness of his way of thinking. - -Attempts to attribute the responsibility of all limitation to man and -his will, to find the root of all evil in the moral failings of -humanity, have not been wanting. Universal religions have given these -attempts an embodiment. It has seemed as though the harmony of reality -is only disturbed by man, and as though his moral restoration were the -only thing necessary to lead to all good. To be sure, such a way of -thinking manifests a disposition of great seriousness, and it may appeal -to the fact that the perplexity of our existence is nowhere more real -than in reference to the ethical problem. Still, there is no possibility -of doubt for the man of the Modern Age that this conception is too -narrow; that it not only contradicts indisputable impressions and -experiences, but also takes the question much too subjectively and too -anthropomorphically, and thus falls into the danger of doing harm to the -cause that it wishes to serve. It is not simply our disposition, it is -our being as a whole and the circumstances that we are in, which -obstinately oppose the emergence and the development of an independent -spiritual world. It is the most elementary forms of life themselves that -prevent the elevation of our existence to the level of a genuine -spiritual life. We cannot blind ourselves to the fact that the greater -part of our life is bound up with a form of existence in which it is not -able to embrace the spiritual life. Any kind of appropriation of the -spiritual--if it is at all possible--can be effected therefore only in -opposition to that form of existence. In genuine spiritual life all -movement should proceed from the whole and should be sustained by the -whole, even when it is concentrated in the individual departments and -tendencies. Human existence presents the spectacle of individuals ranged -side by side; and if a movement to overcome the original inertia is to -begin at all, their impulses, their desire for happiness, and their -conflicts are necessary. The spiritual life knows no limits; it works -and creates from the infinite whole: the individual is narrowly limited, -and with all his activity and work constitutes but a tiny point in the -infinite whole. The spiritual life presents its content as transcending -time; even if for us it is only gradually revealed, time is in this a -mere means to the presentation of an eternal and immutable truth: man, -however, drifts with time; is dependent upon the momentary situation, -and experiences himself in an incessant change: how can he comprehend -the eternal? Spiritual creation is effected in the transcending of the -antithesis of subject and object: human endeavour is conditioned by this -antithesis. The former with its self-determining activity overcomes from -within the attachment to sense: man even in the highest flight of his -endeavour cannot withdraw himself from it. From the altitudes occupied -by the spiritual life submission to the impulses and the goods of sense -seems to be something mean and base: and yet without these man cannot -possibly preserve his life; he has not conferred sensuous needs and -desires upon himself by an act of will, but finds himself endowed with -them from the beginning. Spiritual life with its formation from within -banishes from itself all mechanism; all compulsion of blind actuality: -without a mechanism in thought and in conduct, without habits and -methods determined by custom, human life cannot attain to an enduring -stability either in the case of the individual or in that of society. -Thus, through the ever-present necessity of self-preservation and -self-renewal, human life is compulsorily related to something, bound to -something, that not only is not adequate to fulfil the tasks of an -independent spiritual life, but is directly opposed to them. There is -something in our life which we cannot dispense with, yet which, from the -spiritual point of view, it is an imperative duty to shake off. - -We see clearly enough that it is not merely our will that is in play, -but that two worlds conflict within us, and that the world to which we -primarily belong, according to the testimony of experience, holds us -fixed with superior power, and draws back to itself all movement which -strives upward. If, in particular, the dimness and the weakness of the -spiritual life in man; its severance from its source; its disintegration -into isolated powers; and, finally, the moral perversity which human -existence exhibits, and the debasement of spiritual power to a mere -means for natural or social self-preservation, become clear to us, then -it is evident that a compromise between such a pitiable and shallow -confusion and a genuine spiritual life is absolutely impossible. The -acknowledgment of an independent spiritual world tends only to increase -the contradiction and make us more clearly conscious of it. - -A clear consciousness of the inadequacy of the human is especially -important and necessary in contrast to the utter confusion which reigns -with regard to the spiritual life and vitiates the whole of the -endeavour of the present. The increasing transference of life to the -world of sense has led the present age to abandon all inner bonds of -mankind. The endeavour of Antiquity to lift our life above the -insignificantly human by giving it a share in the greatness and -magnificence of the whole, and the attempt of Christianity to give a new -nature to life from the relation to God, appear to the present age to be -Utopian. Since the faith of modern Idealism in the immanent universal -reason has become more and more dim, man is thrown back more and more -exclusively upon himself, upon man as he is, upon empirical society. -There has grown up a strong belief that this empirical existence is -quite sufficient in itself, and is able to satisfy our spiritual needs -from itself. The ennobling of man, the improvement of his condition -within this existence, becomes the aim of aims. Now, this presupposes -that within the province of man, the good, even if it does not entirely -preponderate, is still confident of a triumphant advance. It -presupposes, further, that the establishment of a certain state of life -will bring complete happiness with it. At the same time, all that is -disagreeable in human experience--the power of selfishness and pride; -the weakness of love; the feebleness of all spiritual impulse; the -incessant increase of the struggle for existence, with the consequent -degeneration of the inwardness of the whole--appears with dazzling -clearness to the more refined perception of the modern man. After even a -little consideration he cannot doubt that, if, in spite of all -limitations, an unclouded state of human well-being could be -established; if all pain could be banished from our life, life would -fall into the power of the other and worse enemy--emptiness and -monotony. As a refuge from such perplexities there is a tendency to flee -to society and history. From the point of view of humanity as a whole -and with the thought of a better future, all defects and losses of -individuals seem to vanish; the hope of an unceasing progressive -development rises above the feeling of the unsatisfactoriness of the -condition of the moment. But what are these relations of empirical -humanity other than those of a mere collection of individuals who never -become an inner community, and what is empirical history other than a -mere succession which never produces an inner unity of movement? In the -appeal to the former, as in that to the latter, it is only -surreptitiously that something essential can appear to be acquired. In -reality, conceptions are here made use of which in other relations have -a meaning, but which here signify nothing more than empty abstractions, -simply subjective constructions of thought. However, notwithstanding all -the glossing over, the real state of things must ultimately assert -itself: pessimism must then be the last word, and the belief in a -rationality in human existence must finally be given up. The faith in -the greatness of the empirical man is, indeed, of all faiths the -boldest. For, if the other faiths proclaim a new reality in contrast -with the world of sense, they have the possibility of one in an -invisible world. In the case that we are considering, however, -experience itself must offer more than mere experience; we must not only -be certain of a thing that we do not see, but that which we do not see -must coincide with that which exists immediately before us. Such a -position is no longer a faith, but a gross contradiction, a complete -absurdity. - - -(e) _Results and Prospects_ - -The immediate experience of man may by no means be rejected as a whole -on this account; if it were, spiritual work itself would degenerate and -lack content. However, we only need to take up into a whole the -impressions and experiences which each in his sphere acknowledges to be -indisputable, and it will be clear that a movement toward spiritual -independence can never proceed from such a pitiable state of confusion -as that which is thereby seen to exist. It is essential that the -movement toward spiritual independence have an independent starting -point, and proceed on its own course. Only then is it able to select and -appropriate the spirituality that exists in those confused experiences, -and at the same time purify and strengthen it. We may most decisively -reject all presumption to sovereignty on the part of the human realm; -nevertheless, for the construction of a spiritual world that realm -cannot be dispensed with. For this construction is not peacefully and -securely accomplished through the self-development of a spiritual power -placed in us, as was supposed by those who attempted to represent -reality as a whole as a cosmic process of thought. If through the -joyfulness of its faith and the definiteness of its undertaking this -attempt captivated the minds of men for a time, at last it was -frustrated by the fact that we men do not find ourselves immediately in -the atmosphere of reason, but have first through toil to raise ourselves -into it; that we have to do not with absolute spiritual life, but with -spiritual life under the conditions and limitations of human existence. -Thus, in the first place an independent spiritual life, a universal -self-consciousness, must work in us and be changed in our activity; and -this can be accomplished only by a revolutionary transformation of life -as we immediately experience it; only by the attainment of a new point -of view. But if at this point of view certain fundamentals of a new -world become evident, they are as yet only fundamentals, and, without -the help of a world of immediate existence, without recourse to the -movements and experiences of human life, they cannot be completely -developed and embodied. The complete development of a self-conscious -reality is by no means made possible by combining an original spiritual -movement with the world of sense brought to meet it. For the spiritual -life can be furthered by coming into contact with that world only so far -as the spiritual life takes it up and transforms it; the situation is -rather that the spiritual movement wrests a content from sense -experience and at the same time is raised in itself; it is a realisation -of self through the other. The further the movement advances the more -one may win one's own in what is apparently alien; the more that which -is really alien may be separated and opposed. Thus we have a -characteristic picture of the spiritual life in man; only the more -detailed treatment can confirm it. - -The matter of greatest importance to the whole, and the one upon which -all hope of success rests, is that the movement towards an independent -spirituality, to the building up of a new world, should, in spite of the -opposition of immediate circumstances, become manifest also in the human -sphere in characteristic operation, and that it should establish stable -bases in this sphere and rise upon them to the highest by means of work. -We have now to investigate more closely, to demonstrate more exactly, -and as far as possible to show that at all the chief points of life such -movements begin; that one such movement advances another; and that all -are associated in a community of striving, and that from here the -spiritual movement that we see in history is lit up, strengthened, and -for the first time rendered practicable. - - -2. The Transformation and the Elevation of Human Life - -(a) _Aims and Ways_ - -The question before us is whether any kind of transcendence of the gulf -between the spiritual world and man is effected; whether that world, in -spite of its antithesis to the world of sense, manifests itself also -with a characteristic effect in our sphere, and thereby inaugurates a -movement which takes possession of our whole life and advances it. Only -on the result of such an inquiry can we judge whether man is able again -to establish his position, which has been so shaken in the course of -modern culture; and to save the courage and faith of life from violent -changes and convulsions. At the same time we must ascertain whether the -representation of the spiritual life that we have sketched is true in -reference to things as they are found in the human sphere. - -To be sure, proof or verification through experience is, in the case of -this problem, in the highest degree peculiar. No definite reality -spreads itself before us by which we must test the validity of our -representations of thought. Representation and object cannot be simply -brought into coincidence, but as life, which we wish to comprehend, is -found in movement, and as, further, in immediate experience genuine fact -and the form assumed by it in the idea of man are confused, so the -revelation of the spiritual life does not come to us immediately, but -has first to be extricated and wrested from the most diverse errors and -half-truths. Every attempt to obtain proof from experience rests on the -conviction that a movement of the kind, the recognition of which is -being fought for by us, is already in some way in process everywhere -where human life goes beyond mere nature; and that only the clear -comprehension of the aim and the taking it up with complete -self-conscious and self-determining activity are lacking. If now the aim -which is presented is the right one, that is, that which is implied in -the spiritual movement of life itself, then its acknowledgment and -appropriation must tend to the elucidation, the unification, and the -strengthening of all endeavour tending in the direction of this -movement; it must lead to a development and an elevation of life above -the condition in which it is immediately experienced. In the first -place, it must be shown that the connections, preparations, directions -in life in its general condition, tend towards the new according to its -chief demands; and, further, it must be shown that the existing -condition is raised essentially through becoming comprehended by the -revealed universal movement, and is led to its own perfection. Again, it -has to be shown that thus life wins a more precise content and a greater -power in its every aspect: that which is present in all human endeavour -as a necessary requirement must now become more intelligible, and at the -same time from something impossible of fulfilment to something possible, -and reveal new aspects and new tasks. Further, those elements which at -first sight exist unconnected side by side and tend to limit one another -must unite, and must strengthen one another. On the other hand, -divisions must arise: it is as necessary energetically to reject that -which follows wrong aims as to come to a peaceful settlement with that -which errs only in the means. The antitheses which the work of humanity -contains must also become intelligible, and at the same time a way must -be prepared by which these antitheses may be overcome, not one by which -merely a compromise between them may be arrived at. The breaking forth -of the new must tend always toward the self-elevation of life; with -arousing and strengthening power, it must take up the whole of life into -its movement: it must demonstrate a transcendence of all the reflection -and subjectivity of man, and this can be accomplished only through the -disclosure of new forms and contents of life. Accordingly attention must -in the first place be centred upon the pointing out of such new forms -and contents. - -The union of the spiritual life with man, its being firmly rooted in -him, is seen to be at the same time something old and something -new--something old in so far as it must have been existent and in some -way effective from the beginning, something new in so far as its -distinct emergence and its transition to a state of self-determining -activity must alter the condition of things essentially; in fact, must -turn life as a whole into a problem. Where the reality of man is -reduced, as by Hegel, solely to an unfolding of thought and cognition, -the present may find its most important task in the complete -clarification and appropriation of the past; life comes to complete -satisfaction in the drawing of historical achievement to itself. Where -it is a question of the building up of a reality based on self-conscious -and self-determining activity, when we ourselves share in such activity, -we must find ourselves in an essentially different relation to things; -and with all the connection with the past, life will press forward, -changing and elevating in contrast with the whole past. - - * * * * * - -A contact, indeed a union, must therefore be established between the -independent spiritual world--which in some way must be operative in -us--and the activity of our own which struggles upward; and, through the -gain of such a contact, that world must be led to more complete -organisation, and that which strives upward made secure, unified, and -advanced. In this it is essential that the movements and the demands -which the fundamental idea of the spiritual life contains be present to -our minds. The spiritual life appears, so we saw reason to believe, in -the first place, to be something essentially new in contrast to the life -of nature. The spiritual life is not the product of a gradual -development from the life of nature, but has an independent origin, and -evolves new powers and standards: new beginnings must, therefore, be -recognisable in us if the spiritual life is to become our life. The new, -however, manifested a development of the inner life to independence in -opposition to its state of subjection at the level of nature, and so -thus in man also the inner life must in some way come to itself and -attain to freedom. We saw, further, that this development to -independence cannot be brought about through new achievements in a given -world, but that it needs the building up of a new world--a new basis for -life: it extends even to the final basal forms; not any kind of activity -could suffice, but a being within the activity, or, rather, a division -of activity into something sustaining and comprehending on the one hand, -and something demonstrating and producing on the other, is necessary. It -is only thus that life becomes turned toward itself and elevated to a -self-conscious life; activity to self-determining activity; experience -to self-conscious experience. Man could not participate in such a -self-conscious and self-determining life, if in him also a new life, a -spiritual self, had not begun to be in some way. It is impossible for -this self to be merely individual in nature: it can change the form of -things and convey a new world only if it encompasses the multiplicity -and experiences it as its own. An infinite self-conscious and -self-determining life must not only include man within itself; it must -become his own life, his true self. - -To realise this life, this self, in more detail and to pass from mere -impulse to fruitful work, such as the building up of a new reality -necessitates, man must in some way transcend in his own sphere the mere -juxtaposition of individual powers. Connections must be formed within -the realm of man that somehow deal with that task and advance towards -its accomplishment in a way that is beyond the capacity of individuals. -A transcendence of the antithesis of subject and object, that dominates -the greater part of life, is also essential to the new life; an -energetic revolution must raise life to a state of resting upon itself, -to autonomy: and so in man also movements must appear in opposition to -this antithesis--condensations and concentrations, in which life from -being a movement hither and thither becomes a forming of reality from -within. In these connections only out of a self-development of life has -a reality arisen at all; and its content was not there complete at the -outset, but was yielded only through the continuance of that -self-development: it must be shown, therefore, that in man also life -begins to turn toward itself, and that this makes it possible to attempt -tasks which to our capacity are otherwise inaccessible. - -It is necessary to acknowledge that in all the spiritual movement which -appears in the domain of man, there is a revelation of the spiritual -world: as merely human power cannot lead the whole to new heights, in -all development of the spiritual life the communication of the new world -must precede the activity of man. At the same time, where we are -concerned with a life that is independent, and of which the activity is -conscious and self-determined, the change cannot possibly simply _happen -to_ man: it must be taken up by his own activity; it needs his own -decision and acceptance. - -We shall consider the question of the possibility of this almost -immediately: so much, however, is certain--that this necessity of a -decision by man himself makes the matter far more complex and of far -greater risk. The establishment of an independent spiritual life in man -finds its chief enemy not in nature, but in the limitation and -perversion of spiritual impulse through man's subordinating it to his -own ends. The chief conflict is not between spirit and nature, but -between real and false spirituality. Thus thought emerges in man, seeks -a representation of the world and would in this attain to truth; but -when this striving first appears, man is wont to treat himself as the -central point of the whole, to measure the whole of infinity according -to what it achieves in relation to him, and to see reflections of -himself throughout its whole extent. And so we have the anthropomorphic -way of thinking, the nature of which we have become aware of only -through toil during the progress of the work of culture; a way of -thinking from which it has needed even more toil to protect ourselves, -and which, in forms often hardly noticeable, is ever ready to appear -again and to draw the spiritual movement into its paths. With the -emergence of the spiritual life, man becomes more free in relation to -his environment; more free also in relation to the necessities of mere -nature: his activity can exert itself more independently, concern itself -with lofty aims, strive towards the infinite. But all this capacity -becomes drawn into the service of the human; the wishes and the desires -of the individual grow to an enormous extent. Since out of the struggle -for existence, with its natural limitation, an interminable struggle for -more existence arises, naïve self-preservation becomes transformed into -an unrestricted egoism. That the more-than-human which appears in the -domain of man should be employed to the advancement of the merely human -is a danger that is present even at the highest stages of development: -at one time man would prove his own power in the more-than-human; at -another, and this more especially, he treats it as a means to attain his -material welfare. Religion, for example, would reveal to man a new depth -of reality, and so create a new life for him; and yet, how often even -this new reality is degraded to a means for the preservation of his -insignificant personality, and regarded as something which on his behalf -guides the whole world aright! - -The development of the spiritual life in the human sphere can thus be -seen to be anything but a sure and steady progress; every step forward -brings new dangers; unutterable confusion arises through the use and the -perversion of the new in the interests of man. But, if the development -of the spiritual life within man is thus an unceasing conflict against -human error, this conflict, despite its exhibition of the littleness of -man, is at the same time a witness to his greatness. For it shows not -only that the spiritual movement needs the active co-operation of man, -but also that there is a conflict within humanity itself against the -perversion of the spiritual; that there must be more within man and -operative in him than the narrowly human. Indeed, in nothing does man -seem greater than in this development of a more-than-human within the -domain of man, in this severe and untiring conflict with himself. How -could this conflict arise and become the soul of universal history if -man did not possess a life and being transcending his particularity, and -if he did not realise more in himself than we at the first glance see in -him? The error of Positivism is that, although it shows most clearly how -this spiritual movement dissolves the forms of life as it is immediately -experienced, it does not perceive and value the fact that, at the same -time, a new life, an inner life emerges; that, indeed, the negation -itself is possible only through a more comprehensive spiritual -revelation. To consider the negative and the positive in their relation -to each other, and to weigh them one against the other, is the -indispensable condition for the adequate understanding of human life. - - -(b) _The Nature of Freedom_ - -The arousing of a new world to life within man is a problem and a task: -it cannot be effected unless the spontaneity and self-determining -activity that are distinctive of this world also manifest themselves -within him. Further, it cannot be effected unless within man, who with -the greater part of his being belongs primarily to nature, a deliverance -from nature is accomplished and the centre of life is removed to its -spiritual side; and this cannot happen without the co-operation of man. -We need freedom, therefore, in two senses: as the presence of an -independent inner life, and as man's capacity to change--and we cannot -fail to recognise that these are closely related. - -Now, the impressions and experiences of modern life are opposed to -freedom in both of these senses; indeed, with apparently insuperable -force they oppose freedom in every sense. Modern science most clearly -shows that man belongs to a great world-whole and world-movement; his -life and work seem to be completely determined through his relations in -this whole; his whole life is subject to an irresistible destiny, and in -all his undertakings and conduct he can only follow the course directed -by it. This destiny assumes for us the most diverse forms; and through -this diversity surrounds us on all sides. Through the power of heredity -we enter life with a definite nature: in the family, the state, and the -society a particular kind of environment surrounds us and gives to our -nature its more detailed colouring: the age meets us with particular -tendencies, takes us up into itself with a supreme power, and just as -decidedly directs us towards certain ends as it diverts us from others. - -Even in earlier times all this was not ignored, so far as the individual -aspects are concerned; but the Modern Age was the first to conceive the -problem as a whole, and with this it has pursued the idea of -determination even into the inner structure of the life of the soul, -with the demonstration that here also nothing is spontaneous, nothing -unmeditated, but that even down to the most primary impulse everything -depends upon something else, and proceeds from definite relations. From -this point of view the idea of freedom, and in particular that of a -freedom of choice, appears to be only a remnant of an unscientific way -of thinking. The fact that man feels--as an immediate impression--free -in cases of hesitation between different possibilities has lost its -power to convince the individual of the Modern Age. For the new mode of -thought has evolved point for point along with an increasing divergence -from the naïve manner of representation, and it has won its greatest -victories in opposition to this manner of representation. The revolution -that Copernicus accomplished in the representation of the world has -become typical of the whole of modern work; and as regards our problem -also, dissent from ordinary opinion is less a cause for doubt than a -recommendation. - -However, our attitude in regard to this problem has, indeed, been -essentially changed by modern thought. There can be no further talk of a -vague freedom of the will, of a capacity to act in one manner or -another unaffected by anything that preceded and by the whole -environment; the fact of the subjection of man to a destiny, both -external and internal, is forced upon us with overwhelming power. -Whether the idea of freedom in every sense is shown to be invalid is -another question; perhaps the problem is not so much solved as put on -one side. In any case, if a fundamental problem--one that has been -discussed from the earliest times--is suddenly declared to be finally -solved, the suspicion must soon arise that the solution appears to be -self-evident only because certain presuppositions which are in no way -self-evident are implicitly assumed in it. - -The surrender of every kind of freedom meets in the first place with the -suspicion that thereby far more is lost than we think or intend; that -much is lost to which it is impossible to surrender all claim. Great -trouble is taken to prove that the denial of freedom by no means does -away with the possibility of an ethical moulding of life. Yet it might -be shown without difficulty that, in attempts of this kind, either the -freedom, rejected in its ordinary sense, finds entrance again altered -and deepened--as, for example, in the philosophy of Spinoza--or the -ethic that remains after freedom has been denied retains only the name, -and in itself signifies something merely mechanical. But why do we -insist upon the ethical; why does so much depend upon its continuance? -For this reason: that upon it depends whether life merely _happens to_ -us or also _from_ us; whether we are simply parts of a rigid -world-mechanism or self-determining co-operators in the building up of -reality. If the former hypothesis is true, we are no more than the -platform upon which events become connected; and we can possess no other -unity than a summation of the multiplicity. A unity of this kind could -not possibly attain to independence and transcendence; could not make an -inner judgment upon events; could not take up a conflict in opposition -to the condition of life as it is immediately experienced. The -conception of conduct would inevitably be degraded to that of mere -occurrence. We should cease to have inner unity and be comprehensive -selves; we should not be able to speak of disposition and conviction: -for it is of the essence of all these things that they cannot be -imparted, but must arise newly and spontaneously just in the individual, -and for this a concentration of life, an elevation to self-conscious and -self-determining activity, is necessary. - -Where inner unity and such an activity are lacking, a true present does -not exist. For if, through the all-dominant relation of cause and -effect, that which comes later proceeds in certain sequence from that -which came earlier, our whole existence is only a stream of occurrences, -and that which is called present is nothing more than the point of -transition from the past to the future. Now, a real present can be -reached from such an apparent present only if an independent task -originates at this point, and a decision has to be made: the more our -whole life and being here become a problem again, the more securely -might we trust to the possibility of advancing beyond all previous -achievement, and of a spontaneous breaking forth of new powers, the more -will our life be transformed into a genuine present. A genuine present -does not exist within the sequence, but above it; it cannot come to us -opportunely, but must be attained through our own activity: it is our -own work. It is, therefore, not a common and equal possession, but is -differently constituted according to the individual. The present is the -more real and comprehensive for us the more spiritual power we evolve -and the more spiritual content we give to life. Thus the present is not -a mere point in the succession of times, a mere ripple in the stream of -appearances, but involves a counteraction to this flow; its formation is -to be accomplished only by the placing of life in the region of the -spontaneous, the independent, the time-transcendent. - -All the losses in individual matters are, however, only appearances and -parts of a universal loss that the surrender of freedom involves. This -loss is no other than that of an independent nature-transcending -spiritual life in general. Spontaneity is no subsidiary quality, the -disappearance of which might only involve a modification; with it, the -spiritual life as a whole stands or falls. The experience of history -also shows clearly enough that that which has in any way reached a -spiritual height never persists by simply existing, but that, if it is -not to degenerate rapidly, it must proceed ever anew from spontaneous -creative activity. The law of nature, that everything remains in its -existent state of rest or motion until it is acted upon from without, is -not true of the spiritual: of it nothing abides that is not continually -brought forth anew. - -The surrender of freedom, therefore, means no less than the inner -destruction of the spiritual life. And before we submit to this we shall -feel compelled to make a more careful inquiry, to see whether the -arguments against freedom are really so cogent as they are represented. -They do exert a compelling force, but only so long as their -presuppositions are admitted and held to be unassailable. That they are -not unassailable will become evident as soon as we clearly recognise -their nature and implications. - -If the world forms a closed and "given" system, in which every -particular is determined completely by its position in the whole, there -is no place for spontaneity. The question of freedom has no meaning for -man if he belongs solely and entirely to such a world, and within it has -only to weigh aims one against another. But in accordance with the -results of our investigation we contest these two presuppositions most -decidedly. To an investigation that begins with the life-process as the -basis of its treatment, it is certain that a "given" world never can be -primary, but only secondary. That it may attain to an inner present it -needs a life that is not itself "given," but with its activity -encompasses a multiplicity, unifies, and makes it definite; for anything -to be experienced as "given" a self-conscious and self-determining -activity is necessary. If this self-determining activity can struggle -upwards to complete power and consciousness only slowly, still it is -the first and the sustaining world; and at the same time it can never be -asserted that the forms of its life are only ideas and appearances. Life -is not formed from existing individual points, and does not pass between -such points, but all multiplicity is sustained by an active whole, and -from this whole animated ever anew. This active whole may not be -conceived as dependent upon another, and it is quite capable of advance. -We have endeavoured to show that the matter is not one of subtleties of -thought, but of different natures of the world and of activity; and that -with the attainment of independence a new world emerges. We have also -shown that in us the new world must first wrestle with another, to which -we primarily belong; that inner changes must take place in us; and that, -if all our toil is not to be in vain, the relation of the two worlds -must be changed. - -Man, therefore, has a special significance in that the two worlds meet -together within him, and in that there can be no change in their -relation to each other at this point without his co-operation. The -problem of his life concerns more than his conduct, it extends to his -being; the question is, how far the different worlds may become his own -world, his life. The matter is one of shifting the centre of life from -the position in which it is in immediate experience. Thus, the tension -and the conflict involve the ultimate elements: each of the worlds has -its own tasks and evaluations; things do not affect man with a given and -fixed value, but they receive their value first from their relation to -the main course upon which his life enters; and so all conflict -concerning particular matters implies a decision concerning the whole. -Of course, such a decision is not being made from moment to moment; and -more especially, it is not made simply by reflection, but it is involved -in the whole of life. Only that which in him, in endeavour and work, -participates in such decision is true life; individual acts of external -conduct only bring to expression that which has happened and still -continues to happen inwardly and in the whole. - -In all this the possibility of an inner elevation is presupposed. -Everyone who strives for an inner development of man; everyone who, with -clear insight into the meanness of the general condition of human -affairs, unswervingly continues to strive for the advancement of -humanity, relies on this possibility: without it there is no hope of a -development and a growth of one's own life, of an elevation of it above -the condition in which it is first experienced. And so without this -possibility endeavour loses all its true tension, and all that we are -able to accomplish in ourselves and in others is no more than a -dexterous use of existent forces. But is this condition of the matter, -spiritually discerned, more than a mere discipline? - -It is true that the possibility of an elevation has its fixed -conditions; it necessitates particular convictions with regard to the -world and to man. We must view the world as being still in a state of -flux and regard man as not being simply a closed and limited individual. -The infinite spiritual life must be present as a whole to him, and -arouse a new world to life in him; his conduct must be rooted in the -power and content of the infinite life: only thus can we understand that -in man also a movement begins and a change is brought about. And so it -remains ever an inderivable, original phenomenon, which we must -acknowledge as a fact, that a spontaneous life breaks forth in man, a -new and relatively independent life-centre originates. We always come -back in the long run to original phenomena; the origin of living being -in general is also an original phenomenon. May we deny the fact of such -original phenomena, because they make our representation of the world -less uniform and simple? To do so would be nothing else than to make our -previously formed conceptions the measure of reality; it would be a new, -specifically modern anthropomorphism. - -This freedom, with its requirement of a world of inner life that -introduces new contents, and also that we belong in some way to this -world, is by no means a capacity to make a decision capriciously at any -moment; it is not a denial of the power of necessity. Of course, it -implies that there may be some kind of counteraction to this necessity; -and that if this counteraction can attain success only as a result of -the activity of life as a whole, even the individual moment need not be -a matter of indifference. For, as the spiritual life has always to win -its own height anew, so the present in its relations is not a mere -consequence of the past: times of temptation can come repeatedly when -all that which has been achieved becomes doubtful again; but times of -elevation also come when an advance is made beyond that previously -achieved. It is not possible for us simply to reject the present -existence and all the conditions which constrain us, and to choose for -ourselves a new kind of existence, instead of the one we have; from that -it is impossible to free ourselves: in all further endeavour we have to -take it into account, to make our peace with it. Nevertheless, life can -attain to a transcendent point of view, from which the world of sense -becomes the object of judgment and of adaptation; from which, to be -regarded as completely ours, it needs acknowledgment and appropriation -by us; and from which it is seen not to constitute our whole life, as -that which is ultimate. Indeed, the tendencies within us which are -concerned with nature, first reach their highest through such -acknowledgment and appropriation by us: placed on a spiritual basis they -lose their rigid exclusiveness and become unified; our particular nature -no longer constitutes our whole being, but becomes the central point of -a more comprehensive life, which extends further and further to -infinity. - -Our life, therefore, is a conflict between fate and freedom, between -being "given" and spontaneity; and this conflict may be followed through -all life's divisions. The conflict appears primarily in the individual -in the development towards personality and spiritual individuality. For, -as personality, unless life has a spontaneous source, is an empty word, -so also spiritual individuality does not come to anyone, but has first -to be won by the work of life essentially elevating that which destiny -brings: so far, it is our own work; but it is not entirely our own work, -because that which comes to us from nature, and the condition of life -gives us fixed points of support and points out a certain course. -Similarly, peoples have in their nature, environment, and history -definite conditions of their being, from which they cannot withdraw. But -spiritual creation and inward greatness do not grow simply out of these -conditions, however favourable they may be, but out of a spontaneous -activity which takes up that which has been presented to it, gives it a -central point, and from this develops it. The deciding question is -always whether and how far individuals and peoples attain to and -preserve such a self-determining activity. This activity alone makes it -possible for life to be unified inwardly; for its elements to be -distinguished and separated, and for some to be brought into prominence -and others relegated to the background; for life to be made secure and -elevated, and as the result of all for a spiritual individuality to be -formed. The same thing holds good of the condition of a particular time, -and man's relation to it. At first man appears to be a child of his age, -a slave of his age. But by the spiritual life he is able to win an -independence of the age, and to make himself its lord. Again, he cannot -free himself from the problems of the age; he cannot alter them just as -he likes, cannot divert into an opposite direction the power which they -exert upon him. But there is always an "either--or," either submission -to the succession of experience, or the beginning of an opposition from -spiritual self-determining activity: in this, also, the possibility of -calling new powers to life presents itself. From this spiritual point of -view activity centred upon the concerns of the particular age is no -longer regarded as the whole life; the particular age with its work is -comprehended in an infinite life. As through all its different stages -and constituents, so ultimately humanity as a whole also carries on a -struggle for a spiritual being, an advance to a new level. Humanity may -not be regarded as something finished; it must evolve to a nature other -than its present one, bring about a transformation of its life, and win -a spiritual individuality: the life of humanity is in a state of motion -and it must become self-determined. - -The idea of freedom thus reveals far-reaching prospects and the greatest -tasks; it manifests its truth and power in taking possession of common -experiences and illuminating them, and in the arousing and -re-organisation of our life. With the acknowledgment and the adequate -appreciation of freedom, with the revelation of its universal relations, -man is elevated in the most essential manner, for it manifests the new -world as active in the midst of his life and capable of appropriation by -him: it calls him to independent co-operation in the conflict of the -worlds; it gives to the simply human and the apparently commonplace an -incomparable greatness. However powerful destiny may be, it does not -determine man entirely; for, even in beginning opposition to it there is -a liberation from it. However mean man's activity, it carries in it a -decision between worlds; however vanishing the moment, it is not -entirely lost. True, the idea of freedom involves definite -presuppositions: it involves, indeed, a profession of faith concerning -life and reality as a whole, a profession of faith that contradicts -every form of Naturalism and Intellectualism, and, in opposition to -their representations of the world, champions another. But this -profession of faith does not concern this problem only; it is involved -in our work as a whole, and so the whole may support and confirm it. - - -(c) _The Beginnings of the Independent Spiritual Life_ - -As the problem of freedom gains in clearness and depth in the relations -which have been discussed, so also the beginnings of independent -spiritual life which are manifested in the domain of man become much -clearer in them. Without such beginnings, which represent a new order -in contrast to nature, and which oppose the degeneration of life to the -narrowly human, a movement towards independent spirituality could never -emerge in us. They are really intelligible and acquire power only when -they are unified and acknowledged as the activity of a new life and -being. - -These beginnings appear in an elevation of life accessible to every -individual, an elevation above the forms as well as the content of mere -nature. We perceive this in the norms with which the research of the -present is busily occupied. Our life does not consist entirely of simple -matters of fact, but in certain directions qualities and forms are -presented to it which are able to contradict the immediate state of -things and to exercise a certain power over it. Thus the norms of -thought, the norms of conduct and of artistic creation are evolved, each -making particular demands, and being different in the manner of its -operation. However, we are concerned here not with the aspects of -difference, but with that which is common to all; and this consists in -the working of an actuality in us that is something other than natural -occurrence, an actuality that needs our acknowledgment, and through this -acknowledgment first wins power over us. The demands which these norms -make upon us are in no way convenient to us; they limit our caprice; -they often cost hard toil and heavy sacrifice; our desire for natural -happiness does not commend them to us. How is it then that we do not -simply reject them? what is it that gives to them a constraining power -over us? If they remained isolated and impenetrable experiences, if they -adhered to us as something alien in nature, were foreign elements in our -being, their power would be unintelligible. It is to be explained only -upon the hypothesis that they are unfoldings of our own life, which by -these unfoldings is proved to be something other than a life of nature. -Unless they are rooted in our own life, these norms are like misty forms -in the air. They obtain complete reality and motive power first as -movements of our self, which then is no mere point by the side of other -points, but an independent manifestation of life of the spiritual -world. - -This is in particular clearly the case in the idea of duty, the -elucidation of the inner meaning of which is Kant's greatest and most -enduring service. A duty is always a command; it presents itself as -independent of all caprice. At the same time, however, it can never be -forced upon us by an external power; it needs our own assent and -acknowledgment. Our own volition and being must operate in it, and, in -this, being must present itself otherwise than it appears to be at the -first glance. We must bear and maintain within us a new world; in -submission to its orders we must assert and develop ourselves. In this -manner alone can we explain the joyfulness which accompanies all genuine -performance of duty, and without which duty is no more than a task -forced upon us. How much power duty, and the norms in general, may -acquire in the greater part of human life is a question in itself; but -they could not exist for us even as ideas and possibilities if they were -not in some way based in our own being. However, as they show this being -in a new light, it follows that they must themselves gain in clearness -and in power and become more closely unified if they are understood and -treated as developments and modes of self-preservation of our own life. - -It is with regard to content as well as to form that beginnings of a new -life appear. At the level of nature only that which serves the -self-preservation and the advancement of the life of the individual -being is estimated as a good; all that is involved in this may be -comprehended under the conception of utility. But notwithstanding its -great power over man the consideration of utility does not form the only -motive of his life. For a detailed treatment of this matter we may refer -to what was said in the discussion of "The Growth of Man beyond Nature." -At present we are concerned especially with the view that the new that -appears in us should be acknowledged to be the manifestation of a new -world and the expression of our real being. In the growing of man beyond -nature negation usually preponderates; he must limit the impulses of -his natural _ego_, acknowledge and respect the rights of others, be -ready to subordinate and sacrifice himself. It is for the most part not -evident what can commend such a negation to him and give it power over -him; and an impulse aroused to clear consciousness and strong desire -may, therefore, feel this entire connection with a new world to be an -unwarrantable limitation, and reject it as a violent intimidation and a -degradation of life. The matter is seen in its right light only when -negation is regarded as the reverse side of affirmation, and even then -only if the winning of a new life and being is acknowledged in this -affirmation. The positive impulse of self-preservation is indispensable -to complete vital-energy, but mere self-assertion on the part of an -individual in opposition to others does not constitute a genuine self; a -genuine self is constituted only by the coming to life of the infinite -spiritual world in an independent concentration in the individual. Only -thus does life, which otherwise were empty, acquire a content. Then the -individual is no longer compelled to develop his powers in conflict with -other individuals, but in directing his life towards this infinite -spiritual world, in its complete appropriation and organisation. Hence, -only that which raises the spiritual content of life can be regarded as -good, and goods will be compared in value in accordance with this -standard. The more they lead beyond mere results to the development of a -new being and self, the more essential they are to spiritual -self-preservation; everything else becomes a means or a preliminary -condition. Negation, also, has greater significance and importance from -this point of view. The new affirmation can acquire no complete truth -and no real power in man without a fundamental deliverance of life from -mere nature and its particularity. Without earnestness of renunciation -the new life sinks back to the old or both are combined in an -undifferentiated unity, with the consequence that the new life loses its -power to stimulate to new endeavour. As human beings are, this negation -must always be a sharp one. - -In this connection, it may be said that life needs the stage of law -which restricts natural impulse, and constrains to the acknowledgment of -superior organisations of life; but from the stage of law there must be -progress to the stage of love, which for the first time reveals an inner -relation to reality and reacts upon the stage of law, giving it a soul. -On the other hand, a love that would be genuine comes not to destroy the -law, but to fulfil, to take it up into itself. As love and law are -indisputable powers in the life of humanity, so they also proclaim the -emergence of a new world and the development of a new being within the -domain of humanity. - - -(d) _The Transcending of Division_ - -A particularly severe conflict with regard to the problem of the unity -of life arises between the natural condition of man and the requirements -of an independent spiritual life. The spiritual life demands an enduring -whole which includes all multiplicity within itself and of which the -movement originates within: human existence is primarily a juxtaposition -of individuals and a succession of moments; no union seems to be more -than that which is constituted by a mere collection of the individuals. -If the division were not in some way transcended no spiritual life could -grow up within humanity, and man have no share in the building up of a -spiritual world. The nineteenth century gave a confident answer to the -problem: it contended that history and society of their own capacity -bind the elements of life into stable forms which take up all -multiplicity into themselves and raise our existence to spirituality. We -most emphatically deny the validity of this contention, and hope to show -that history and society themselves involve difficult problems; further, -that only when we conceive them in a particular way are they able to -help in the unification of life and then only in a limited manner; and -lastly, that they do not so much produce a spiritual life as presuppose -it, as essential to their own existence. Naturalism and Intellectualism -have also confused the outlook; if we free it from this confusion, -history and society will take a secondary place in our estimation; they -will themselves be seen to be deeper and more comprehensive and to -involve movements which extend further than appears in immediate -experience; and they will become witnesses to the living presence of the -spiritual life within humanity. - - -(i.) _The Spiritual Conception of History_ - -The nineteenth century transmitted to us a conception of history that is -far more peculiar in nature and far more open to attack than is usually -recognised: history is represented as a great stream which takes up all -individual achievements into itself, unites them, and, regardless of all -human error and caprice, leads surely to its end. No genuine achievement -is lost, and all gain seems to be permanent; beyond all the trouble and -uncertainty of the moment appeal is made to the power which, directing -and elevating, permeates the movement, clarifies and refines it. In this -conception the necessity of a process that has the power of determining -its own activity and making its own decision is primary. The fact that -the matter is not so simple as this conception of history represents is -shown by the experience of the age itself, which directly contradicts -it. For according to this conception the whole past should discharge -itself into the present and so impart its whole result immediately to -us, and the direction that our activity ought to take should be pointed -out to us with complete certainty by history. But we are distinctly -aware of the extent to which this direction is a matter of question and -doubt, and of the uncertainty into which we have fallen with regard to -the relation of the present to the past: in the process of our -investigation we saw this in particular in the division and conflict -between the different systems of life. History is seen to be a difficult -problem far more than a secure fact; and we are compelled to take up a -new consideration of the question. - -In this consideration a distinct delimitation of the achievements -characteristic of man is primarily necessary. Modern science already -recognises a history of nature, and much that was formerly regarded as -complete is now seen to be in a state of flux and movement. Since every -event leaves effects behind, in the course of ages the results -accumulate, develop, and act upon one another, that which comes later is -conditioned by the influence of the earlier and is intelligible only in -relation to it, a distinctive historical method gains currency. Geology -presents to us with particular clearness a history of this type. In so -far as man belongs to nature and the spiritual life has not yet -developed to any degree of independence in him, he is also the subject -of such a history. That which happens within him leaves behind effects -that become the conditions of later occurrence. This conception of -history, as determined solely by mechanical causes, is still maintained -in some quarters in spite of further developments of thought. But it is -not apparent from this point of view how, even with the greatest -accumulation of effects, history could yield anything of gain to an -inner unity, to a life from the whole: for that, man must bring with him -something essentially new; and as a matter of fact this is what he does. - -Not only do events happen to us and change our condition, but with our -own activity we are able to hold fast to these events, to give to them -an inner permanence, to bring them ever anew from the dim distance into -the living present. We do not drift onward with the stream of time, but -withstand it; seek to wrest something fixed from "becoming" and change, -and salvation in the eternal. We cannot do this without altering the -whole view of things and manifesting a new spiritual capacity. - -The retention in mind of individual events by means of annals, monuments -and similar methods is the beginning of a history of a higher kind: even -so much shows a greater activity, since it involves a judgment of the -significance of events, and on the basis of this judgment begins to -wage war against the destroying power of "cormorant devouring time." The -achievement is incomparably higher, if certain spiritual unities and -tendencies are adhered to and are given permanent currency: thus -religion in particular gave a stability to life and delivered men from -the tyranny of the mere moment. The matter remains simple so long as the -movement is within a single people or a definite sphere of culture. But -in its progress it goes far beyond these limits. New peoples arise; the -state of culture undergoes great changes, indeed revolutions; life is -taken up from new starting points, from which everything of importance -to earlier ages loses its value. But it is lost only for a time; a -desire to return to it and to bring it into complete harmony with the -new is soon felt. The circle of vision is thus increasingly widened, and -all multiplicity is finally united into a whole. This retention of the -past is primarily a matter of knowledge and of intellectual -appropriation. But it is not limited to this; it would operate not only -in the extension of knowledge but beyond this in the development of -life. Whatever has been won by human power is to be preserved, unified, -and used to advance the present. Thus, there arises a historical -culture; an education on a historical basis; religion and philosophy, -art and law derive power and content from the work of universal history, -and life as a whole seems to win a greater comprehensiveness and -stability. And so it has come to appear as though the past imparts its -whole result to the present without any effort on the part of man and -without incurring him in any risk. - -In reality the case is entirely different. The stream of the ages -becomes spiritually significant to us only in so far as we develop an -independence of it. The stream does not itself, automatically and -independently of us, select the elements of value which it contains or -unite the ages to a harmonious result: we ourselves must achieve this. -Spiritually regarded, we do not from the beginning stand upon a sure -foundation, on which we might peacefully build; we must first acquire -such a foundation through endeavour, and in this matter we see doubt and -violent change continually make that uncertain which is apparently most -secure, and make it necessary to seek greater depths. - -For this treatment of history, involving, as it does, self-determining -activity, an elevation above time is essential. Without in some way -transcending time we could not survey individual events and unite them -in one representation. But we would do far more than that; we would -select and take up into our own life that which is valuable in the -earlier, in order thereby to enrich and strengthen our life, and to lead -it as far as possible from the present of the mere moment to a present -encompassing the ages. How could this come to pass unless we were able -to secure an independent vantage ground transcending the stream of the -ages; a vantage ground from which we may survey and judge the ages, -appropriate some elements from them and reject others? Experience shows -clearly enough that the tendency and the content of life with which we -meet the past, decide what shall be its spiritual representation, and -how we shall stand in relation to it. For experience shows that each -main tendency of life has its own view of history and its own treatment -of history; it shows further that every change in life which is in any -way far-reaching involves an alteration in our relation to the past; -gives prominence to the new, and relegates the old to the background. -There arises therefore a history of history; a history, for example, of -that which in the life of Antiquity has seemed essential and valuable to -the different later ages. For us, therefore, history, in regard to its -spiritual nature, is involved in constant change. The past does not -decide concerning the present so much as the present concerning the -past; the past is not something dead and fixed behind us; ever anew it -becomes the object of passionate conflict. - -But does not this dependence of the past upon the present deprive -history of all independence and of all value? Does it not surrender life -completely to the contingency of the changing moments? Does it not -destroy all inner unity of the ages? This would, in fact, be the case -if the matter remained on a simply human basis; if a spiritual life -transcending time were not manifested through all the changes of the -ages; if a spiritual history could not be distinguished from a narrowly -human one. Spiritual history is concerned with that which through all -human activity and endeavour reveals a self-conscious inner life and -which, as such a revelation, is valid not only for a particular age but -through all ages and independently of all ages. Spiritual history would -be impossible unless there is active within us from the beginning an -independent spiritual life which first realises its content through the -historical process. - -Such a transcendent nature is most evident at those highest points of -human development which we call "classical," not because they should -dominate and bind all ages, but because in them the spiritual life -attained to a complete independence over against man, lifted him above -himself into the fire and flood of creative activity, and made it -possible for him to produce characteristic contents. These classical -achievements are especially important for the development of life if -they not only bring something new in individual departments and in -particular directions, but also shape and present the whole to us in a -distinctive manner, and seek to appropriate to themselves, and in the -appropriation to elevate, the spiritual impulse that exists in man; if a -new being, in contrast to nature and society, emerges and would become -lord of the whole. Life as a whole is thus transformed into a problem -and a conflict. The question is whether this movement is able to take up -everything into itself and to lead life to its highest level, or whether -it meets with an insuperable resistance. In this matter life tests -itself by itself, by its own development--a thing which is possible only -if its experiences arise out of its being as a whole. If in a particular -case it proves that essential requirements remain unsatisfied, that the -movement is not able to include the spiritual life within itself, a -severe convulsion is inevitable, the spiritual life as a whole comes to -a standstill, and there can be no advance until life concentrates anew -and the new concentration gains ground. It is to be expected that a new -concentration will bring forward and develop that, in particular, which -formerly did not find complete satisfaction. In the first place, -therefore, there is an abrupt break and the emergence of an apparently -irreconcilable opposition: the old is relegated to the background; -tested by the new, the old soon comes to be regarded as a complete -mistake. In reality it is not so. For, as certainly as spontaneous -creative activity was operative in the old and produced characteristic -contents, it involves something which, superior to all the change of -time, will survive convulsion and doubt, and assert itself in some way -in a more comprehensive life. But the old will not survive and re-assert -itself unless the timeless reality within it separates itself from all -human and temporary addition; unless it manifests what lies behind the -historical form. - -The same thing happens in the case of the new movement that arises. With -all its greatness of achievement, limitations become manifest in it; -then, more comprehensive forms arise; and so in the historical movement -as a whole the spiritual life is revealed in forms continually -increasing in content. In opposition to the tendency for one age to be -separated from another, however, a desire for unity, for a life which in -some way embraces the multiplicity of movements and concentrations of -life, and binds them into a whole, makes itself felt. A unity can hardly -be achieved by simply regarding the different concentrations and -tendencies as on the same level and making a compromise between them; -rather it is necessary that the different concentrations and different -movements contend with one another; it is just their conflict which may -elevate and deepen life. The movement to secure this unity and to retain -elements from the past is not an accumulation of elements and tendencies -in time, but an increasing deliverance from time, the establishment of a -timeless truth independent of the change of things. Experiences, of -which the external manifestations no longer exist, are again called to -life, and preserved for all time by spiritual power; indeed, that which -is lost in immediacy by the absence of the external manifestation is -more than compensated for by an advance to the source of the power: -things which in their temporal form are a mere co-existence are -transformed into an organised whole. Movements, which in history have -often been engaged in passionate conflict, may enter into a relation of -interaction, and may be regarded as a sequence of stages, in which the -earlier prepares for the later, and the later presupposes the earlier; -in which all give life to and further one another. A universal life thus -progressively arises within the domain of man; the individual -achievements unite more and more to the building up of a new, enduring -world; the whole realises itself in the individual occurrence, and -through the development of a time-inclusive present transcends the mere -moment. - -This movement of life in history involves more unrest, conflict and -doubt, than the nineteenth-century doctrine of evolution implied. For -this doctrine saw in the historical movement the unfolding of a -spiritual life, sure as regards its foundation and its main direction; -the antitheses within that movement seemed to be involved in a single -process, which determined the limits of each tendency in relation to the -others; a transcendent necessity was regarded as leading to the -development of all in their relation to one another. As a fact, the -conflict is also concerning the substance and the main direction of the -whole; the spiritual life must first realise itself within the region of -mankind, and it is realised through the toil and work of man himself. It -is just the fact that the problem is an ultimate one, that even the -fundamental forms of life develop only in conflict and experience, and -that we are concerned not with winning simply this or that in life, but -genuine life itself, that makes history significant. At the same time, -this brings man into a more inward relation to the spiritual life, and -this life is made more his own life and being than if he were -surrounded by the power of physical or intellectual processes. Nothing -makes humanity as a whole more significant than that in its province and -through its work the new world begins to develop. - -With such a conception of history, the philosophical treatment of it -must direct its attention chiefly to the independent spirituality which -in the course of the centuries, and especially in great changes, is -evolved in contrast with the narrowly human; and to the main direction -which is given to life by this spirituality. The philosophical treatment -of history ought first of all to trace the liberation of life from the -simply human; the inner elevation of our being to a more-than-human. -Antiquity at the height of its spiritual development began to desire a -universal truth independent of man; a moulding of life in accordance -with an inner right; and an order of things beyond the power of human -caprice, as was shown by the giving symmetry and harmony precedence in -art, and justice in conduct. Christianity brought about a liberation of -the innermost disposition, the root of endeavour and of love, from -purely natural impulse, however ennobled; and in this way brought men -into new relationships and set them before new tasks. The Modern Age on -the part of science began a relentless conflict against the -anthropomorphism of the mode of life as immediately experienced; thus it -has made the spiritual life even in its form independent of man, in that -it has created spiritual complexes and has recognised in them movements -and inner necessities of their own. Through the whole of this movement -of universal history life frees itself more and more from its dependence -upon mere man, and from the bondage to "given" presuppositions and -"given" natural impulses, and from a "given" world in general. Life is -based more and more upon its own independent nature, and from its -position of independence develops a new kind of being. It is this gain -of a new world through struggle that alone gives to history a meaning -and an inner unity. - -If history thus accomplishes the formation of great spiritual complexes, -and if there is an endeavour to fit these with all their antitheses into -an all-comprehensive whole, if it unites all ages and all powers with -the bond of a universal task, it is a clear witness to the living -presence of the spiritual life within the human sphere. Apart from this -presence all these achievements would be impossible, and the whole -movement must vanish into thin air. The estimate of history here given -is valid only when a spiritual history is clearly distinguished from -merely human history. Only when history as a whole gains a soul and a -support from this spiritual history are the non-spiritual factors able -to attain to any rational significance; only then can history have a -meaning and transcend the relativity from which otherwise it cannot -escape. On the one hand, history demands for its own existence the -presence of a spiritual world within humanity; on the other, it -testifies to this presence by that which is characteristic in its own -content; by that which can be understood only as a progressive -disclosure of such a world. - - -(ii.) _The Spiritual Conception of Society_ - -The problem of society is closely akin to that of history. In the life -around us a certain union is attained in that men dwell together, but -this immediate union does not simply of itself produce a spiritual -unity, a spiritual whole: if society manifests such a unity, then in it, -also, a distinctive revelation of the spiritual must be acknowledged. - -Modern science shows clearly and distinctly that the individual is not -an isolated atom, but exists in relation with a social environment; and -that, even to the innermost recesses of his being, he is determined by -the constitution of this environment. But science falls into serious -error if it goes beyond the truth of this contention and attempts to -represent spiritual creation as the result of the mere inter-relation -and accumulation of individual powers. For between spiritual creation -and this inter-relation and accumulation of individual powers, in spite -of all their external proximity, there is the widest divergence. -Spiritual creation requires to be treated as an end complete in itself, -and must follow the laws of its own being; it claims an inalienable -supremacy above all trivial human interests, which yet for a time -dominate the common life. Further, it cannot succeed without the -development of an inner unity which maintains and characteristically -forms a whole of life. The existence of men side by side gives rise to a -variety of opinions, strivings, dispositions, which mingle confusedly -together; the usual condition of things that arises from this confusion -has anything but a definite character. The condition of our own time -must convince everyone who is unprejudiced, how little this pitiable -confusion can of itself produce anything spiritual and associate men -together in an inner unity. For in the epoch of railways, telegraphs and -newspapers, of large towns and of factories, movements of the masses are -certainly not lacking; they surround the individual and influence him -more strongly than ever before. But where, out of all the fluctuation of -public opinion, out of the confusion and bustle of life, does creative -spiritual activity arise, give to life an inner content, and unite -humanity in an inner community? Rather, we see humanity continually -split up into opposing factions; we see the strife tend more and more to -affect the foundation of our existence. - -However, in spite of the spiritual impotency of the movements of the -masses, creative spiritual activity has emerged in humanity, has -overcome the separation of the individuals and inwardly unified the -forces of life. It must not only be possible to effect, but we must -actually effect a unity which transcends the individuals, a union which -has its source in the spiritual life itself. - -In reality the experience of humanity shows such a union. Of primary -importance in this connection is the fact of the power of so-called -"ideas" in history--the fact that certain aims transcending natural -welfare win power over the whole domain of culture, bind men together -and lift them above their selfish interests. To be sure, in the -movements which arise to carry out these ideas much that is -insignificantly human is introduced; and the interests of individuals -and of classes often largely preponderate, but the origin and the -progress of these movements cannot be accounted for by the merely human; -they are only to be explained as due to man feeling directly within -himself the necessity of spiritual tasks. If he feels this necessity -only under particular conditions, and if it is only for a short time -that it asserts itself at its highest, still it extends its influence -over life as a whole, and is everywhere a unique phenomenon, even when -limited and confused by much that is alien to it. - -Further, the fact that whole peoples have developed distinctive national -characters is of importance in this connection. Such a character is -distinguished essentially from all mere participation of common -conditions, not only physical but also psychical, that social life -brings with it. For the development of such a character life must rise -to energetic activity and become unified; there must be an advance -towards a common goal; an active relation must be taken up not only -towards the environment but also towards itself. A national character is -not "given," but is attained through the work of history; it develops -only through common experiences, sufferings, and triumphs: in its origin -and its continuance it involves an elevation above the aims of physical -and social preservation, a development of pure inwardness. - -Finally, no inner relation of humanity proceeds from the physical -association of men, from their meeting in a common world. If a vital -whole, a common truth, did not exist within us, all our relations would -be external: we could not follow common aims in life and endeavour or -have common experiences; we could not think and live for one another, or -develop spiritual contents in different departments, such as those of -law and religion, science and art, and give to them a cognate spiritual -character. It is always the presence of a self-conscious reality that -binds humanity together inwardly. We can be as certain in our -acknowledgment of this presence as we can that our experience shows such -an inner unity in important achievements and in the formation of whole -departments of work and other complexes. - -With its acknowledgment we avoid the severe contradiction that is shown -in the contemporary estimate and conception of humanity. To our more -dispassionate consideration of things the disagreeable aspect of the -social machinery, the growing sharpness of the conflict, the passionate -eagerness of the desire for more, the inconsistency between the enormous -amount of subjective excitement and the spiritual poverty, are clear. -Logically, this confused and self-contradictory state of affairs ought -to lead to a rejection of the whole, and to a pronounced pessimism. Yet -humanity is regarded as noble and worthy of respect; it is made the -value of all values; the object of our faith and our hope; all our -efforts are directed towards its well-being. And this is done without it -being perceived that thus the basis of experience is forsaken and that -the impression of humanity obtained from experience is bluntly -contradicted: the introduction of an abstract conception seems to alter -everything and to lead to its being regarded as good. In the shattering -of beliefs at least this one has remained: belief in the power of -abstractions. He who would abandon this belief and at the same time hold -fast to the high estimate of humanity must admit that a spiritual world -is active in man, and in so doing acknowledge that man is more than he -appears in immediate experience. Such a one will feel increasingly the -necessity of actively comprehending and definitely distinguishing from -the medley of trivial social concerns every manifestation of a spiritual -world in man. It is not out of society but in conflict with it that -everything great has grown. And yet that which is great is rooted in a -whole of life. Spiritual work must have its basis in this invisible -whole, not in mere society; and from this position it must protest -against the presumptuous claim of society to evolve the spiritual life -of its own power. The community that proceeds from a spiritual union -will be primarily an invisible one; but whether this invisible unity -could not realise itself better and be effective also in the visible -world is a serious and difficult question that continually becomes more -urgent. - -If the conviction that we have here given an account of definitely -contradicts the historico-social view of life which was so potent in the -nineteenth century, and which deeply degraded the spiritual life and its -self-conscious and self-determining activity, it by no means fails to -recognise the significance of history and society; and has no intention -of taking up again the mode of thought common in the period of the -Enlightenment. History and society are indispensable means for the -development of the spiritual life in humanity: from mere individuals and -from individual moments it could attain neither content nor power. But -to declare for this reason that history and society are the generating -basis of the spiritual life was a definite error; though in the -historical movement of the problem it certainly finds an explanation and -an excuse. The higher estimate of history and society has grown up on -the basis of Idealism; to Idealism the spiritual life seemed to live and -first to attain to its complete truth in history and society. Later on, -attention and activity were diverted from a world of thought chiefly to -the world of sense; and with this change history and society lost their -spiritual foundation and their animating soul. Nevertheless, their claim -to produce the spiritual life remained; they were expected to achieve of -their own power more than was possible even with the greatest exertion. -In truth they can bring forth spiritual contents, and serve the -development of the spiritual life within man, only under the -presupposition of the presence of a transcendent spiritual life. At the -same time their achievement in the combination of forces and in the -production of spiritual results is a witness to the reality of the -spiritual life. - - -(e) _The Elevation of Life above Division_ - -We saw that the spiritual life attains an independence only if it does -not simply bring about an effect upon a world independent of it, but -produces a reality from itself; concentrates so as to become a reality -itself. At the first glance man seems by no means to satisfy this -demand. For his life, after, in its progress, rising above its initial -stages, in which it was undifferentiated from the environment, is -subject to the antithesis of man and world, of subject and object, and -the divergence seems to increase continually in the course of his -development. The more power the life of the soul wins, the more it -produces a characteristic content, the freer and more active reflection -becomes, the more does the world recede before man, the more definitely -is immediate contact with the world prevented. The gulf is not bridged -by the epistemological consideration that that over against which we -place ourselves must also, fundamentally, belong to our own life, be in -some way included within it: this treatment signifies a removal of the -antithesis to another region rather than an inner transcendence of it. A -genuine transcendence cannot be effected without an expansion and -development of life, evolving new connections which transcend the -division, and lifting us into a sphere above mere subjectivity. - -Connections such as these are, as a fact, brought about by an expansion -and development of life; but these connections which in their individual -appearances are evident to all are seldom adequately estimated as a -whole, and in respect of the problems to which they give rise. These -connections are effected in work, in work as a spiritual occurrence. We -have already seen how in work the object loses its alien nature and is -taken up into our own life; we must now follow more closely the process -by which work is extended and deepened; produces a characteristic sphere -of life and establishes a spiritual reality in the domain of man. - -At first we are occupied in work with an abundance of individual tasks -that have no inner relation to one another. But the more work advances -from an external contact with objects to an inner change of them, the -more necessary is it that these tasks should be unified so as to form a -whole; and that each task should have its position in this whole, and -represent in itself a particular aspect of the whole. The proof of -greatness in a "work" is just that the nature of the individual aspects -is determined fundamentally by their relation within the whole; that -what is characteristic in the work as a whole is manifested even in its -simplest elements; thus, for example, every independent thinker has -particular views with regard to the nature of the fundamental forms of -logical thought such as the concept and the judgment; in the same way -every independent artist creates his own language of forms. Work not -only leads to a unity of life in the case of individuals; but, further, -without a union of individual forces for a common end, without an -organisation of all human work, we should stand defenceless in face of -the infinity of the world, and we could never advance to a state of -culture. In such community of work man creates a new sphere of existence -for himself; he forms his world of work and sets it in contrast to -everything which does not come within it. This world of work transcends -the individual; and yet it is our world; it is sustained by human power -and, directing and forming, reacts upon man. For, the more unity this -world of work acquires and the more control it wins over the object, the -more definite departments and relations it evolves in itself, the more -does it manifest characteristic laws and methods which, with superior -power, prescribe to human activity its nature and direction, but which -can originate nowhere else than in the domain of man. And so within the -domain of man we rise above all caprice and subjectivity: since the law -of the object determines man's work, his life is raised above the -antithesis between soul and object. Work is not something that man, -essentially perfect, undertakes incidentally and as something -supplementary, but it is that through which he first develops a -spiritual life; through which he acquires a spiritual existence; and the -character of the work determines at the same time the nature of this -existence. As the individual departments of work evolve characteristic -modes of thought and conviction, so out of work as a whole a particular -spiritual nature arises which does not exist in relation to a world -external to it, but contains within itself a world formed by its own -activity. All this, in conformity with our fundamental conviction, -involves the implication that man is not a spiritual being from the -beginning, but only has the potency to become one. - -Such a raising of the aim which is set to work involves an increase in -the amount of toil that it necessitates, and the dangers which are -incurred: the object and the encompassing life are subject to these -dangers. For the complete success of work and the formation of a genuine -self, it is as necessary that the object be taken up entirely into the -process of work as that there should not be another vital unity more -ultimate than the self which grows up in the work, but that the self -should form the final conclusion: whatever is not taken up into the -process of work lessens its content, weakens its power, endangers its -truth, and prevents just that from being achieved which is here in -question. If, however, we consider the opposition that arises at -different points, genuine work is seen to be a high ideal, an infinite -task which even in favourable cases is only approximately fulfilled. At -the same time it is a witness to the sway of elevating and modifying -powers within the domain of man. - -The object is concealed from man chiefly by his own inclination to treat -himself as the centre of reality; to transform the environment into a -reflection of his own being; and to measure the infinite by the standard -of his own well-being. Along with this humanising of the environment, -man develops the most diverse forms of occupation with it, but however -far such occupation may be extended, it does not lead man beyond his own -domain; it does not aid him in his spiritual progress. It is possible -for occupation upon the environment to aid spiritual progress only when -things attain an independence, and from this firmly resist the tendency -of man to represent them in accordance with his subjective wishes. Only -such independence of the objective makes it possible for it to arouse -new powers in man and for his life to be based on something deeper than -immediate feeling and desire, and to begin an inner transformation. But -this movement has various levels which differ distinctly from one -another; and from the position of a higher level it is difficult to -regard the achievement at a lower one as genuine and complete work. The -Modern Age with its exact research often cannot regard the work of early -natural science as work of high value. A similar gradation is evident in -the striving for happiness; for the raising of human well-being. So long -as endeavour is directed to attaining and preserving mere subjective -states of feeling, and so long as a movement beyond this subjectivity is -not acknowledged to exist within man himself, and the requirements of -this movement are not satisfied--as is the case with Epicureanism and -Utilitarianism--endeavour, earnest as it may be, does not acquire the -character of spiritual work; it does not essentially advance life, and -therefore in the long run does not satisfy human needs. Epicureanism and -Utilitarianism with all their results inevitably become insipid and -empty to him. - -If there are powerful hindrances to this endeavour for something more -than the subjective, there is at the same time a wealth of movement -which bids defiance to them, and the course of history shows continuous -expansion and development of this movement; it shows that man is able to -take up a conflict against the trivially human, and, in the building up -of a new world, to raise himself essentially above his original -condition. Exact science breaks away from the object of perception, -removes it to a distance, analyses it there, ascertains its laws, and -then restores it in changed form to men: in this it also advances human -life in itself, in that thought rises more freely above perception, and -a system of pure thought sustains the whole world of sense. A further -divergence between the struggle for physical existence and the building -up of a new world appears in history in the endeavour for happiness and -a significant content of life. In the experience of humanity, morality -and religion, looked at inwardly, assume two fundamentally different -forms. On the one hand they are looked upon as a mere means to support -man in a given world; to bring him into congenial relation with the -world; and so to organise this world that it may achieve as much as -possible for human well-being. This form governs human experience at its -general level, and easily comes to be regarded as the only form. At -higher levels of creative activity, however, a totally different form -made its appearance: there was a break with the whole world of sense and -well-being as though with something intolerably narrow, and in a -self-conscious life a new world arose and brought forth characteristic -contents; the appropriation of this world raised life above all mere -particularity and subjectivity; at the same time this appropriation -became an infinite task and work for man and for humanity as a whole. If -this form of religion and morality has been manifested with complete -clearness only at high levels of life in history, from these heights -this form has also exerted an influence upon the rest of life, animating -and raising it; indeed, it is only this genuine conception of religion -and morality which first gives to them an independence and a value in -themselves. Thus, notwithstanding the inadequacy of human achievement we -cannot but recognise that life transcends mere subjectivity and the -separation that it involves. - -In another direction complexities arise in that something objective is -evolved and established which, however, is not brought sufficiently into -relation with life as a whole and united with it. Then, work may -progress within its own province constantly and vigorously, but it loses -touch with our soul; we do not realise or develop ourselves in it. With -all the feverish tension of individual powers work is then inwardly -alien to us, and its power over us may become a heavy oppression. -Through such a detachment from life as a whole work loses soul and is -nothing more than mechanical; in short, we have all those results of -division between work and soul which we may feel with particular -acuteness in the contemporary state of culture. Experiences rising from -this division lead us to demand that work shall be so organised as to be -capable of taking up life as a whole into itself, and with this of -becoming our true self. Again, life as a whole cannot enter upon work as -complete, for then it would force something alien upon work, and by this -pervert it; life as a whole can be evolved only from the unification and -elevation of work itself. We do not begin and carry on work as a fixed -individuality, but we form individuality first through work by the -continual overcoming of the opposition of subjective disposition and -object. Spiritual contents are not produced by a communication of -something that is in itself complete to something else that is in itself -complete, an interaction of disposition and object; rather must we say -that genuine work sets both sides in motion and with elevating power -unites them in a single life. So understood, every movement which tends -to the development of spirituality in individuals, peoples, ages, and -finally of humanity as a whole, is a witness to the possibility of a -transcendence of this opposition, of the emergence of a reality within -the life-process. - -We cannot give work a spiritual nature in this way, and make it the -instrument of a new reality, without being compelled to acknowledge that -there is much less genuine work among men than we are accustomed to -assume. On the other hand, we must also recognise that the little that -there is signifies much more, and indicates much greater advances of -life than it is usual to admit. Nothing differentiates individuals and -ages more from one another than the extent to which they take part in -genuine work; the degree to which they transform their life in such -work. Mere reflection and good will can accomplish very little in this -matter; without an energetic nature, a strong inner disposition with a -definite tendency, as well as the favour of destiny, not much can be -achieved. What is usually called "life" is only a will to live, a -straining after life; it yields but an outward appearance and a shadow -of life: genuine life is first brought forth by that transformation. - -But the less human existence in general immediately includes genuine -work, the more indispensable is it that there should be firmly rooted -tendencies to such work in the basis of our being, and that these -tendencies should be developed to greater clearness of form and to -greater effect in the work of universal history. So that our work may -not be split up and destroyed, we need definite syntheses that establish -a structure of life. On the one hand we must accomplish an analysis into -individual tendencies and departments of life which, operating -independently, generate life; and on the other hand we must find a unity -of endeavour among these tendencies and departments; a movement from one -to another; a common activity directed towards the building up of a new -world. These syntheses must be an immediate experience at each point; -they must be involved in all division of work; everywhere set -distinctive tasks; produce characteristic achievements; and in energetic -organisation of existence elevate it to the level of a characteristic -system of life, full of power, which presses forward to further -development. Only thus could a movement originate which might expand to -a real whole and be capable of establishing this whole against the world -as it is for immediate experience; only thus could humanity defend -itself against the power of the environment and of destiny. - -Experience alone can decide whether our life contains such syntheses, -and whether by means of them it forms a whole: the movement of universal -history shows that there are such syntheses. The natures of these -syntheses give to the chief epochs of culture their distinctive -characters, by which the natures of their elements and of the relations -between them are determined; and man acquires a definite relation to -the world and can make a judgment upon it. Such a synthesis, with its -life-penetrating and life-forming power, certainly contains some truth; -it is not a product of narrowly human reflection and imagination. The -course of time and the changes of history, therefore, cannot simply -break it down completely; rather with the truth that it contains such a -synthesis elevates life above time into the eternal. But it has not been -demonstrated that life is capable of only one synthesis, or that it may -not produce a variety of such: life does not necessarily realise its -unity in simply establishing a single synthesis; it can seek unity in -the supremacy of a chief synthesis above others. That experience in our -own sphere of culture shows the latter to be the case we intend to -indicate in a few lines. - -A characteristic synthesis first made its appearance at the height of -classical Antiquity. It was art, chiefly plastic art, that determined -the nature of this synthesis. Form as a unifying and systematising power -is at the centre of life, takes possession of matter and organises it, -transforms chaos into a cosmos; and in this exercise of power it -realises itself, even though its fundamental nature is regarded as -transcending all change and variation. Spiritual work is formative and -selective; it is the triumphant realisation of form; it is necessary -that life in all its stages of development should be permeated by this -formative spiritual activity. There are numerous independent centres of -life, but the tendencies from each are towards the realisation of the -whole, and find their perfection in it alone. - -Thought, independent of the world, must extract from the medley of first -impressions permanent forms, and unite these into a consistent -representation of the whole; it finds the acme of its achievement in -bringing this representation clearly to consciousness in a form that is -complete and free from subjective addition. In conduct, an organisation -and a unifying of the elements so as to produce a harmonious effect is -the chief thing. From the chaotic mass of individuals, the state by -constitution and law forms a living work of art, a differentiated -organism. For the individual the chief matter in conduct is to bring the -diverse forces in the soul into the right relation of order and -gradation, to reach the highest of all harmonies, the harmonious life. - -All this involves particular estimates of value, a characteristic -solution of the problems and a harmonising of the oppositions of our -existence. It is a matter of general knowledge how this synthesis has -elevated and ennobled life, and is still increasingly felt as an -influence tending to further development and harmony. But it is equally -well known how the progress of life has rebuffed the claim of this -system of life to be the only valid one. We have become aware of -contradictions which do not find sufficient acknowledgment in this -system: a gulf deeper than it is able to transcend has made its -appearance between man and his environment: in particular, the supremacy -of form, which constitutes the basis of the system, has been shaken. -Antiquity, at its highest development, had, without much consideration, -given to form a living soul; its later course dissolved this union, the -soul degenerated more and more into an inwardness of feeling, and gave -up all claim, if not to the world, yet to its organisation and -formation: form, deprived of soul, threatened to become superficial, and -to change life into play and enjoyment. It was at this point that -Christianity intervened with a powerful effect, but it has not, in the -sense with which we are here concerned, produced an organised system of -life. - -Such a system was first produced in the Modern Age, and more -particularly in the period of the Enlightenment. This system makes force -the centre of life; to increase force without limit is the task of -tasks. The elements of reality are centres of force; but these elements -are not isolated, because force is called forth only by force, and the -amount of life depends on the degree to which relations are developed. -Since in this way one tends towards another, they become interweaved and -joined, and the many are united. For this system the world does not -appear as a work of art which rests in itself, but as a process that -ceaselessly increases in volume: the main achievement of spiritual work -is, with complete consciousness and self-determining activity, to take -possession of this process, which actually surrounds us; to change its -infinite life as much as possible into our own life, and to co-operate -to the best of our capacity for its advancement. Since here spiritual -work never tolerates a state of inactive peace, never accepts the world -as a rigid destiny, but is concerned to develop the world, to analyse -the world as it first appears into its elements in order to reach the -forces that move it, life acquires a more active relation to the -environment than it does in the earlier, more contemplative system, and -feels itself to be more in the workshop of reality. - -The relation of knowledge and life is changed from its traditional -character. Research cannot transform the world from the apparent calm -and completeness of the immediate impression into movement and -development, without analysing the representation offered into its -ultimate elements; ascertaining their laws, and finally, with the help -of the idea of unlimited time, reconstructing from the beginning the -world, which it had first of all destroyed. With such destruction and -reconstruction modern research brings the world much nearer to us, and -gives us more power over it than does the earlier type. Corresponding to -the understanding of reality from its evolution, man finds his own life -in a progressive movement. Human society is regarded less as a -well-arranged work of art than as a complex of forces, which come to -full development and make sure progress only in their relation. The -chief demand is for the greatest amount of freedom of movement; the -greatest number of relations between individuals, and a ceaseless -increase of the stream of life, that should take up into itself all that -bear human features. The individual also must realise his existence as -one of "becoming" and motion; he is not bound by a closed standard of -nature. Through the power of his spiritual nature he is able to -assimilate ever new capacity, and to grow without limit: nothing gives -more proud courage and joyous force to his life than this consciousness -of an inner infinitude. A characteristic ideal of culture and education -is formed: all individual departments of spiritual work are now regarded -primarily as means to the increase of human power, and must assume a -form corresponding to this. And so life everywhere becomes more active -and more powerful: it finds its aim within itself, in its own elevation, -and has therefore no need to seek it in something external; the whole -existence of man becomes more his own work. As work comes more deeply -into touch with the nature of things the development of power becomes at -the same time a controlling of the world. It was not to be wondered at, -therefore, when the modern man, with the development of this system of -life, believed that for the first time he had left a childlike condition -of constraint and limitation, and entered a state of freedom and -maturity. - -But the further development of life shows clearly enough that this -system, which makes force and movement its leading principles, is not -the final stage of human endeavour: the leading idea of our whole -investigation is that human endeavour is more than this. We have seen -that a system of mere force and movement gives no soul to work and does -not lead life to self-consciousness and self-determination. A rushing -stream seizes us and carries us along with it, but we reach no position -independent of it; and so we cannot unify the multiplicity, nor gain a -content from its immeasurable achievement; indeed, the increasing -extension of life divides us more and more into single forces, and -deprives us of a self that transcends the movement. At first this was -not fully perceived, since the soul was implicitly assumed to be force -and the extension of movement was regarded as a pure gain to the life of -the soul. But the further development and the keener emphasis on the new -state attained could not but clearly indicate the contradiction here -involved; could not but lead to a separation between soul and work, and -force them into conflict. Hence there is a danger of work becoming -mechanical, and of the life of the soul, which, with this separation, is -thrown back entirely upon the subjective, being lost in indefiniteness. - -These experiences of mechanical work and indefinite subjectivity give -birth to a new situation, in which the problem of the soul, a problem -which in the earlier systems remained in the background, is forced into -prominence. The task of life is seen to be a more fundamental one; it is -a matter not so much of altering a given reality in one way or another -as of first discovering a genuine reality, of advancing beyond all mere -activity to a being which exists within the activity. - -It has become evident to us in many ways that from the recognition of -this a characteristic form of life proceeds. The only question is -whether the change is capable of bringing about a thorough organisation -of life, whether it can produce independent centres of life and unite -them into a community of life, and thus lead to the development of a -system of life. We ourselves most resolutely maintain the view that this -is really possible; that life is in process of forming itself into a new -whole, and that with the clearer establishment of this, problems which -have existed from early times receive full explanation, and a definite -advance is made in their solution. - -We saw that, in its highest stages of development, life concentrates at -particular points, and that a characteristic sphere of life is in this -way brought forth, as, for example, in spiritual individualities, -national character, and so on. As soon as these developments are -acknowledged to be spiritual and are sufficiently distinguished from -simply natural existence, as soon as the manifestation of a new world is -recognised in them, they become a great problem. Then they cannot be -regarded as a mere product of a particular part of nature, but must be -accepted as primarily a creation from the spiritual life as a whole, a -creation which at the same time must maintain itself and transform in -its own activity that which it receives. The relation to the spiritual -world as a whole is the fundamental relation of life, and yet the -further development of life does not follow immediately from the -relation to the whole, but from the relation to the innumerable other -centres of life; the infinitude that the individual being acquires from -the relation to the whole receives that which is particular in its -organisation and its content only from the experience of the relation to -others. The relation to others, however, is not produced by nature, but -as spiritual, only from the spiritual world as a whole and must be -continually sustained by the whole. The relations of individual to -individual will therefore be included within the whole, and through the -presence of the whole will be essentially advanced beyond the capacity -of mere nature. The love that arises here is fundamentally different -from all the love which arises from natural impulse; and, understood in -this manner, notwithstanding all that may be doubtful in respect of its -fulfilment in individual matters, there is much point in the demand of -Augustine, that, in the relation of man to man, not man but God should -be set in the first place, and that man is to be loved only through God. - -However, it is not an increase of activity alone that is sought in the -multiplicity of relations, but a growth of being--a being not beyond all -activity, but existent within it. It is necessary not only that the -life-process achieve more, but also that it grow in itself, change that -which is alien to it into its own, and display more reality within -itself; life must experience every single activity as the manifestation -of the activity of the whole, and thus, along with unlimited extension, -preserve self-consciousness. - -The demand for a self-conscious life, the demand for an elevation of -activity to the organisation and development of being, by no means -excludes other forms of activity, if only for the reason that this -demand presents a high ideal to which man can only very slowly -approximate. But this ideal constitutes an aim and a standard for all -other activity; the giving of form and the increasing of force must aid -in the development towards this aim if they are not to become devoid of -real worth. The more necessary it is to insist upon an animation of -reality through the development of self-conscious life, the more must we -guard against the danger of anthropomorphism, which, when we are hasty -and impatient, inevitably finds an entrance to and corrupts the whole of -our thought and life. Only with much toil and with continual -self-criticism can life be brought to the point where the transition to -self-consciousness is possible; and even then the whole cannot, under -human circumstances, be attained at one stroke; but at first life must -endeavour to concentrate, to form a nucleus so that in this way it may -acquire a firm basis, and from this take up a struggle for its further -spiritualisation. - -The same thing is to be seen in the differentiation and the gradation of -life: everywhere a movement towards self-consciousness begins, but the -emergence of this movement forces an antithesis into prominence, and -life is completely transformed into work and conflict. Thought cannot be -satisfied with representing the world as a work of art or as a process; -thought must seek self-consciousness in the world. This it finds in the -emergence of an independent spiritual life and in reality's -coming-to-itself; at the same time the difference between spirit and -nature becomes more pronounced, and all the divergences in life -increase. Men can find their highest unity neither in joining together -so as to form a whole as a work of art, nor in a system of progressive -increase of force. Neither alone could prevent society from becoming -spiritually destitute, nor could both together. Society also needs a -self-consciousness and acquires it only through the development of a -spiritual content and spiritual character; but this must be won by -continual struggle from the medley which constitutes the general -condition of social life. Again, the individual does not attain a -content for his life through an immediate combination of his powers so -as to form a harmonious whole, or through increasing them without -limit; the individual also must by activity concentrate his life and so -gain the basis of a new world: never is he in his life, as a whole, -personality and spiritual individuality. True, there lies within him the -potentiality to become such a spiritual individuality, and this -potentiality may be transformed in his own activity; and the existence -thus acquired can affect the rest of life, arousing and elevating it. - -Thus the ideal is set completely in the distance; it is seen that we do -not live our life from a given basis, but that, on the contrary, we have -first to acquire the basis and to preserve it by continuous work; it is -not a particular direction of life, but a genuine life itself and with -this a spiritual being that is in question. We appear, therefore, more -imperfect than ever before. But in this connection the imperfection -itself is a witness that important tasks are set before us, and that -superior forces rule in us. In the midst of all that is obscure it -cannot fail to be recognised that there is a movement towards the -development of a new self-conscious reality above the capacity and the -interests of mere man. This movement has been manifested in great -historical achievements, in the formation of fruitful systems of life -which at the same time were developments of the life of the individual. -It has brought forth ever new creations; now it sets before us the task -of developing a new system of life which does complete justice to -self-consciousness, and in accordance with its main idea must also -transform all individual aspects and departments. Where we recognise so -much to do, we are certainly far removed from opinion and pretence. - - - - -II. THE MORE DETAILED FORM OF OUR SPIRITUAL LIFE - -(a) THE PROBLEM OF TRUTH AND REALITY - - -Whatever there is peculiar in our conception of the spiritual life must -be manifested and proved in reference to the problem of truth and -reality. In the first place our conception decidedly rejects the widely -held view of truth as a correspondence of our thought with an external -reality. For the attainment of independence by the inner life makes it -impossible for something externally existing to be taken up into life -without undergoing an essential change. It is also inconceivable from -this point of view how something beyond us could in any way attract and -arouse us. The problem of truth can do this only if it originates within -our own life: it can become a compelling power only if the attainment of -truth aids us to transcend a division within ourselves which has become -intolerable. The representation of life, that we have given, makes it -quite evident that such a division does spring up within us. Within our -own life a certain activity begins, which becomes wider and wider, and -which would signify our whole being. But this activity finds limits and -contradiction within ourselves: much takes place in our experience -independent of this activity and apparently without our co-operation; a -certain condition of things exists, and asserts a rigid actuality; and, -so far as this condition extends, we are bound; we bear something -impenetrable within us. So long as these two sides of our being remain -separated life is not complete and genuine: activity lacks a foundation, -a content, and a direction that is sure of its aim; and all the bustle -of free movements, all effort of reflection cannot conceal the state of -spiritual poverty. On the other hand, the fact that we bear so much -within us that only half belongs to us and that presses upon us like a -fate must cramp and oppress us. And so life does not experience itself -as a unity; it lacks an inner truth, since activity presents itself as a -whole and yet is not one. Life itself is therefore a problem. The -problem must be felt to be the more serious the stronger the desire for -a self-consciousness becomes. However, self-consciousness cannot -possibly be reached without a transcendence of the division between -activity and the given condition of things. Life has first to seek -itself, its unity, its perfection; and it is just this that is the -problem of truth: and in this problem life is turned not towards -externals, but towards itself. We understand now how the desire for -truth can exert such an enormous power, for, in this struggle for truth, -we fight not for something alien, but for our own being. - -This conception of truth determines also the nature of the effort to -attain truth. The task cannot be to subordinate one side of life to the -other, and to derive one side as far as possible from the other; that -is, to transform the given condition of life as far as possible into -free activity, or to adapt activity to the given condition in such a way -that activity is merged into it; but the task is one of pressing forward -to a transcendent active whole which unites the two sides, and develops -them both; and in mutual relation gives to activity a content and to the -given condition a soul. We have seen how a movement to attain such a -unity runs through history and extends into the soul of the individual. -That life is in general able to unify and raise itself is the -presupposition of all striving after truth: the proof of this, however, -is to be found in the actual furtherance of life, in the new contents -which are thus obtained. - -Such a way of regarding truth, that is, as an upward endeavour of life -to its own unity, a unity not forced upon it but immanent, exhibits its -unique nature especially in its opposition to the intellectualistic -conception of truth, which, notwithstanding that it has been rejected -and attacked so often, still continues to assert a mighty power. -According to the intellectualist, cognition should treat the problem and -solve it of its own capacity; it seems that the synthesis that is sought -must be found in the first place in the realm of thought, and thence -imparted to the rest of life. As a fact, however, knowledge itself is -affected with particular severity by the division of free activity and -fixed given condition; and from its own capacity thought cannot attain -to a state of full creative activity which alone is able to overcome the -division, but for the attainment of this is referred to an advance of -life as a whole which alone can reach an essentially new position. To be -sure, cognition has particular fundamental logical principles which -regulate all its work. But to regulate and to produce are two different -things. The most scrupulous adherence to these principles does not lead -beyond reflection to an inner relation to the object, to an inner -transcendence, a penetration, and an appropriation of the object; it -leaves us still in the position of simply attempting to know, in a state -of mere reflection and search. All real knowledge involves a spiritual -creation, an advance, and a self-formation of life as a whole. The chief -epochs of culture have therefore given a distinctly unique character to -the inner nature and the fundamental texture of knowledge; the character -given to it by one epoch being entirely different from that given to it -by another. Modern knowledge does not differ from earlier knowledge only -in a quantitative way: as soon as its connection with the chief -synthesis characteristic of modern life is revealed, it can no longer be -regarded as absolute knowledge, but only as a particular kind of -knowledge beyond which there are possibilities of further developments. - -From life as a whole the conflict will extend into all its individual -departments, and give to the activity in them a greater intensity. -Religion, art, and human society all have first to overcome the -opposition of subjective power and alien given condition, and thereby to -win a truth. In no case does truth mean a taking up of things which are -presented to the activity of life--it means rather an advance of life to -its own perfection. - -In accordance with this conception of truth, that which claims to be -true will not be able to prove its right otherwise than through its -power, that is, through its capacity to embrace life as a whole and to -raise it above opposition into the state of complete activity. Every -such attempt must prove its power and its right in opposition to rivals -by being able to wrest from them the truth contained by them, and in new -relationships to lead beyond the state they reach, and to change life -more into a self-consciousness than they are able. - -Hence the endeavour after truth here shows more movement, more freedom, -more multiplicity: different starting points and different ways may be -chosen, and the correctness of the one need not involve the -incorrectness of the other. The only indispensable thing is that the -movement pass beyond the state of division and reflection to one of -complete activity; only in that way can the content of life gain through -the movement of life. And so we see the great significance of progress -in work, in spiritual work; according as it succeeds, genuine life is -distinguished from the mere will to live. To be sure, each piece of work -that is here undertaken is a venture; it is far easier and far more -secure to continue in the state of mere reflection and reasoning. But -the latter does not lead us to an experience and a decision in a matter -concerning the development of life, and therefore does not bring us a -step further in this chief matter. Work with its failures is better than -all subtle contemplation which leads to no activity; for failure can -lead us beyond itself to truth, while feebleness and inactivity keep us -in the old position. - -In our conception of it truth is anything but a system of universal -propositions out of which, by deduction, all detail might be derived. -Rather the organisation of life into an inner unity, upon which in this -view of truth everything depends, will exclude all that is only general -and turn towards the differentiation of the whole. The more life -progresses in this direction the less is it a mere application of -general principles; the less does it find its consummation after the -manner of a conclusion from given premises; the more does it become a -progressive activity, a new formation and an elevation. - -In this conception, there is also room for a truth peculiar to the -single individuals. As the comprehensive life-synthesis can permeate -every individual detail of existence, so it is necessary for every -individual life-centre to realise its own particular synthesis, and that -every individual should fight for his inner unity and thus, also, for a -truth of his own; he must, however, realise this unity and truth in -every particular activity. A truth which is not my truth is, for me, not -a complete truth. Only it is necessary that such individualisation be -effected within the whole, not independent of it; it must result from -the inner necessity of creative activity, not out of a vain wish to -excel. In any case, it follows here that, as the immanent and universal -form of truth requires more activity and power, it is also able to grant -more free movement and multiplicity. Truth and freedom have been thought -opposed to one another in the course of history; if the former seemed to -require unconditional submission, the latter had a strong tendency to -shake off every tie as an oppressive yoke. If we see that truth of life -can be reached only through freedom, and also that freedom acquires a -content and a spiritual character only through its relation to truth, -the opposition by no means entirely disappears, but a basis is won upon -which we may strive to attain an agreement and a fruitful interaction -between the two. - - * * * * * - -So understood, the problem of truth has the closest connection with that -of reality: with regard to the one as to the other we are concerned in -a conflict against the external conception common to a naïve state of -life, which, though far surpassed by the inner movement of the work of -history, obstinately asserts itself through the evidence of the senses -in single individuals and hardly ceases to impress men with its apparent -self-evidence. The naïve way of thinking understands reality as a space -which encompasses men and things; reality seems to be presented, -"given," to man through the senses; only that which is exhibited to man -in these sense-relations passes current as real. In this Ptolemaic form -of life, dominated by sense impression, everything other than sense -fades to a mere illusion, and this includes the spiritual life itself, -although in it alone is reality known. Now, however, as science has with -no mean power led beyond this Ptolemaic representation of nature, so the -development of life has led beyond the Ptolemaic reality. Life could not -emancipate itself from its attachment to the environment and develop an -inwardness without effecting a revolution in this problem. The inward -becomes the first and surest experience, with which all that is to pass -current as real must show itself to be in consistent relation: -everything external loses its proximity and becomes a problem; it can be -established as real only through that which it achieves for the inner -nature and in accordance with the standards of that nature. The power to -convince possessed by sense impression is now based, not on its -obviousness, but on the spiritual activity that it arouses. Here also, -only the experiences of the spiritual life itself can lead to the -experience of something less than spiritual. - -As such a revolution brings clearly to consciousness the spiritual -achievement in the formation of reality, so at the same time it gives -the object more movement and transforms it in spiritual endeavour. Two -things are necessary to the conception of reality: an independence of -man, and a realisation of the many as a unity. Now, since that which -lies wholly beyond experience must for that reason be inaccessible to -us, this assertion of independence can have no other meaning than that, -within life itself, something becomes detached from the stream of -consciousness and fixes and asserts itself as independent of it. The -power thus to transcend the time-process is a characteristic mark of all -spiritual activity; this activity evolves within us something in -opposition to us, and in so doing accomplishes a marvellous expansion. -This is most clearly seen within the sphere of thought. For all the -functions peculiar to thought receive their differentiating -characteristic only through such a detachment from the flow of -sense-presentation and by establishing themselves as independent of it: -the concept presents its content as something fixed in contrast to the -stream of presentations; the judgment proclaims its connection of -concepts to be something that does not pass away with the act of -connecting them but persists in face of all the changes of the psychical -life. Life accomplishes a gradation within itself and lifts itself above -the mere stream of change. Only because life establishes within itself a -fixed nucleus, and in this manner wins an independence of its own -momentary condition, can it oppose a world to itself, and set itself the -task of appropriating this world--that, further, that independent -nucleus should remain no mere collection, but should be inwardly unified -is again a requirement and an achievement of the spiritual life. How far -that requirement will be fulfilled depends upon the nature and the -degree of the development of the spiritual life. - -Reality, therefore, is to be found chiefly in the self-consciousness of -the spiritual life; from this self-consciousness we build up our -reality. Since spiritual requirement is from this point of view the -measure of human undertaking, our activity is judged by the degree to -which the state of the world is changed in it and has thus become our -reality. How far our capacity reaches in this matter cannot be decided -by preliminary consideration, but only by the progress of life itself: -in particular it is not permissible to assume things-in-themselves -independent of us and thus to reduce our world to a realm of mere -appearances. For, so far as that independence reached, things could -never enter our life, and never be inwardly appropriated; at most they -could concern us only in their effects. As far as the conception of -nature as a mechanism is concerned, which regards all occurrence as a -texture of related individual points which exist, inaccessible, behind -it, there is much to be said for the view that things are only known in -their effects; but this view is an intolerable limitation--dogmatic in -the highest degree--if it is meant to represent our fundamental relation -to reality and to ourselves. For then we should be related to ourselves -as to something alien; all the self-consciousness of life would be -destroyed; there could be no development of being in contrast to single -acts, but we must be completely resolved in the stream of appearances; -there would be no advance in the striving after reality. As a matter of -fact, we are concerned primarily with the content that life is able to -give to itself; how far it presses forward to reality. Our world is to -be measured more especially by the degree in which life becomes -deepened. But from the beginning man, so far as he shares in the -spiritual life, is not a being adjacent to reality, but within it. He -would never be able to attain to a reality if he did not bear it within -himself and needed only to develop it. Thus ultimately he does not look -inwards from outside, but outwards from within; and his limitation is -not the chief thing, but the secondary. - -The inner structure of our life corresponds with this conviction. It is -characteristic of all spiritual life that it does not pass hither and -thither between individual points, but includes and develops a -multiplicity within a transcendent unity; by this the spiritual life -grows within itself, and more and more acquires a self-consciousness. -And it is just in this way that it evolves to a reality. Reality, -therefore, here is not a fixed and completed magnitude, but is of -different degrees. In the first place there is a difference in the -energy which maintains a union of the manifold and a transcendence of -the division: according to the nature of this energy the self appears, -sometimes stronger, sometimes weaker; its power of changing, at one -time greater, at another smaller. Again, the force of the resistance -that the given condition to be appropriated offers, differs according to -the amount of its positive power; and the clash of the given condition -and free activity will be harder or more gentle according to this power. -One man finds intolerable contradictions where to another all is plain -and smooth; one believes that things are transformed in their own being -where another holds that only their surface is affected: and so, that -which one regards as reality may seem to another only a realm of -shadows. - -Mere energy, however, is too subjective to be able to obtain a genuine -reality from life: for that, a transformation of life in work, an -elevation to full activity, is necessary; but the preceding paragraph -has shown that this transformation and elevation is of different kinds -and of different degrees. The system of the formation of being promises -to give to life the most fundamental organisation and the most forceful -reality. For into the single elements embraced by the movement of life -it is able to breathe a life of their own, to confer upon them an -incomparably greater independence than in those systems in which they -are regarded as lifeless objects which are acted upon, and which only -set isolated forces in motion. When within a comprehensive life -different centres of life meet, and in their interaction the activity of -the whole wins an ever richer content and a more stable nature, genuine -reality must increasingly unfold itself. - -Looked at from this position, reality is not a fact but a problem and an -ideal; it does not lie at the beginning but at the end of the course: it -is different with different individuals, peoples, and times; each in its -particular nature and work has its own reality. Thus we cannot -comprehend the problem of reality from experience without conceiving -reality as existing in flux: the assertion of an independent spiritual -life, transcendent over all human undertaking, is a sufficient safeguard -against a destructive relativism. It is one of the most troublesome -appearances in the conflicts of minds that they fail to recognise the -many-sidedness and fluidity of our conceptions of reality; that each -takes his conception as the self-evident one and urges it upon the -others. In this way originate the many unfruitful disputes concerning -this world and the next, immanence and transcendence, in which the most -external and superficial conception is usually presented as -self-evident; while yet, according to the fundamental relation and the -chief basis of life, very different conceptions arise, and as a fact, -systems of thought nowhere come into more severe conflict than with -regard to their conceptions of reality. Only to a mode of thought which, -without further consideration, accepts the world of sense as the genuine -and only reality, can philosophy and religion, for example, appear to be -occupied with things implying an "other" world, and which, therefore, -are incomprehensible. On the contrary, Augustine thought to attain to -genuine reality and at the same time a true life only by elevation to a -realm above sense, so that to him the world of sense was secondary and -derivative. - -To-day we are again deeply concerned with the problem of reality. -Notwithstanding all the passionate agitation of forces in the -incalculable extension of and the breathless haste in work, a genuine -reality fails us; our life lacks the proper character of being real; and -so, in the midst of all the external results of our work, our life, -spiritually discerned, threatens to become destitute and unreal. An -eager desire for reality exists in our time; it is often thought -possible to satisfy it by the closest possible connection with sense -impression and impulse, and by expelling as far as possible all elements -of thought. But thought is there, and cannot be expelled; with its power -to analyse, it steps continually between us and things, takes away from -them the proximity they have for us, and dissolves them into mere -pictures and shadows. As a fact, the problem of reality lies primarily -within the spiritual life; and it cannot be solved otherwise than in -that the spiritual life advances within itself from division to unity, -from the movement of forces to self-determining activity, from all mere -activity to a formation of being. If thus our life becomes transformed -into a self-preservation, if in it we unfold and assert a spiritual -being, we become certain of a reality and feel a satisfaction. Never, -however, can reality come to us from without. - - -(b) MAN AND THE WORLD - -Through our whole investigation we have expressed the conviction that -man acquires a secure relation to the world only through his belonging -to a spiritual life acknowledged as independent; otherwise, all entrance -to the world is shut off. The growing independence of the inner life has -broken down the immediate connection which dominates the naïve way of -thinking: if, however, man once finds himself set in a position of -independence of the world, he can hardly draw it back to himself simply -of his own capacity. All appeal to subtlety and reflection seems only to -widen the gulf still more. Only the acknowledgment of an independent -spiritual life offers a way out of such a desperate situation: if in the -spiritual life the world attains to a self-consciousness, and if, on the -other hand, the spiritual life is present and active within man, there -is a possibility that man and the world are united; and that, at the -same time, human life also becomes cosmic. But it is a question how far -the possibility comes to be realised; how far the union that exists in -the innermost basis can be developed and transformed within us in the -work of life. Only the actual experience of life can answer this -question. We must ascertain whether there are any particular -developments of life which are not productions of the human, but which -manifest the operation of a transcendent world; and, further, whether -these developments are able to find a more detailed formation in their -contact with the world around us, and to adapt themselves to the -multiplicity of this world. Such a turning to the individual thing would -be impossible if a complete life-form ruled within us and impressed -itself on things only from the outside. For in this case this form must -inevitably be uniformly effective in its whole extent; in appropriating -the multiplicity it could not itself advance to greater concreteness. If -such an advance is effected, there is a contact within life between the -one and the other; and so the world acquires an inner connection with -our activity, and the spiritual movement can take possession of the -breadth of our life and with its differentiation gain a greater -intuitiveness. - -An immediate union of man and world is indeed opposed to the fact that -the spiritual life which should unite them always exists, for us, in its -particular form in human existence and that this form cannot be -projected beyond man into the whole. The form of human existence -constitutes an insuperable boundary; if it governed our life as a whole, -then man could never overstep his narrow, particular sphere. But it is a -conviction that is fundamental to our investigation that our whole life -does not come under this form, but that there are tendencies in life -which are operative beyond this form of existence, and attain to an -independence of it. So far as these life-tendencies may be detached and -developed, man may confidently take up the problem of the world, and -feel related to the world around him; he can try to transform its life -into his own. The particularity of his manner of presentation and -perception then simply sets the limitation, that that which may be -admitted to be certain and true in its fundamental content can be -presented only through the medium of human peculiarity; the more -detailed amplification of the representation is always only of a -symbolic character. We see from this fact that there is a contradiction -ever present within our life that prevents it from ever gaining an -ultimate conclusion; however, it does not take from us the possibility -of an inner union and a community with the whole. Indeed, the -contradiction itself, and the powerful movement that it calls forth, are -to the train of thought here indicated a witness to a fundamental -expansion of our life. - -An attempt to unite our life with the whole appears in the first place -in thought, in its work of obtaining knowledge. This emergence of -thought involves a transformation of life that could never be occasioned -by mere man, but can be understood only as the revelation of a new stage -of universal life. In thought, the intellect, otherwise bound to the -mechanism of the sequence of presentations, attains an independence. It -places itself in a position independent of the world, and seeks to -comprehend it as a whole, to appropriate it as a whole. The primary -connection with things is dissolved, to become established anew upon a -higher level and with an important transformation of its nature; through -the deviation a real appropriation is achieved. All this is incomparably -more than a merely becoming conscious of a given world, which is an -experience that could arise in some way at isolated points; thought -contains a development of the world which ultimately can proceed only -from the power of the world itself. How can the individual matter be -elucidated if the whole remain obscure? How can the desire for -enlightenment obtain such a power over man, and assert itself in him in -opposition to the interests of his physical self-preservation, if a -universal movement were not operative in him? Man does not elucidate the -world, but the world elucidates itself within him. What is thus reached -is valid not for him alone, but universally; the development of this -universal movement of thought enables him to win a closer relation to -the world, a life embracing the world. - -Our thought cannot advance in the definite work of building up science -without producing and employing a definite logical structure with fixed -principles: these principles are immanent in the work of thought; they -are above all the caprice and all the differences of the individuals. -This logical structure cannot be carried over and applied to the world -around us, as all scientific research carries it over and applies it, -without implicitly presupposing an objective logic of things, a -conceivability of experience: in this, man does not simply project -externally and apply mechanically forms already existing in a complete -and final state within him. For the multiplicity of things not only -gives to those principles a particular form, in the production of which -they must themselves participate, but through the relation to the world -the fundamental forms are also further developed in their nature as a -whole; it is only with the co-operation of both sides that the -thought-structure achieves what is ultimately reached. The chief thing -is that thought actually transcends the state of contemplative -reflection, and advances to fully active work; that out of the movement -of our thought proceed further developments, which extend to the object -also; that, moreover, we come under the compulsion of inner necessities, -and, possessing the highest freedom, are raised securely above all -caprice. This creative thought in us, which is at the same time our own -thought, constitutes a witness to a meeting of our thought with a -thought that has its basis in things and in the whole. Inability to -imagine such a thought should never lead to the denial of an absolute -logic, with which all scientific research stands or falls. The -disclosure of this relation, however, gives to our thought, in the midst -of all doubt, a firm foundation, a joyful certainty, an infinite task. - -Artistic creation and appreciation brings another characteristic -unfolding of life; and this also demonstrates an inner relation of man -to the world, and can be developed only when this relation is -acknowledged. In the first place, for this creation and appreciation a -deliverance of life from the turmoil of ends and interests, which at -first sway our existence, is essential; artistic creation and -appreciation involves a resting and a tarrying in itself. If the world -were no more than this turmoil, if it did not in some way attain to -self-consciousness, how could such a deliverance be brought about? If a -self-conscious life were not present in man, how could a longing for an -artistic moulding of life arise in him? But an arousing of an inner -life in things, the revelation of a soul, is accomplished not through -imparting something from without, but through a meeting together of -things and human endeavour. On the other hand, the spiritual expresses -itself in a visible form and in doing so moulds itself. The chief thing -in this connection is not mere beauty, a preparation for idle enjoyment, -but a truth, a revelation of contents, a further development of life -through and above the antithesis. How could something invisible and -something visible, to express the matter briefly, find a common ground -and combine together in a common action if nature were not more than the -mere web of relations into which the mechanistic conception of it -transforms it; if spiritual life were not more than the subjective form -of life that it is supposed to be, according to general opinion; if from -that form of life an inner life did not arise, and beyond all -subjectivity attain to a full activity, and thus to the building up of a -reality within its own province? That we do not simply become aware of a -movement within ourselves, and then read it into nature, but only take -up and lead to its own truth that which strives upward in nature, is -again testified by the inner advance of this striving through its -contact with the world, and by the infinite abundance of particular -contents which are revealed to us in the world and which continually aid -in our development. Again, our life experiences the most important -elevation in that it takes up and carries further a movement of the -whole, and is liberated from the narrowness of the particular sphere, -without merging into a vague infinity. To realise clearly that we belong -to the world, and energetically to amplify this relation, is of the -greatest significance for artistic creation and appreciation. For it is -only by becoming firmly established in these relations that artistic -endeavour is able to resist the tendency to degenerate into play and -pleasure--a tendency which threatens it with inner destruction; as in a -similar manner the work of thought must guard itself from degenerating -into mere reflection. In the realms of thought and art there remains -much that is alien, ever surmise and symbol; but even symbol is not to -be disdained, if it serves an important truth. - -A universal character is shown most clearly by the movements that -co-operate towards the ethical moulding of life. Without freedom there -is no such moulding; but we saw above that freedom requires a world of -spontaneous life and its presence within man. However, when freedom is -thought of in these relations, it is elevated above the usual conception -of it and also above the usual criticism. All moral life is pretence and -delusion without the arousing and fundamental idea of duty. But where is -the truth more clearly expressed than in duty, that what man does by no -means concerns himself alone; and that nothing can constrain him but -what he acknowledges as his own will, his own being? As duty is -concerned ultimately not with something isolated but with a whole, not -with a performance within the old order but with the creation of a new -order, so in the moral life a whole new world appears to be taken up -into man's own will and being. Duty exhibits the new world particularly -in relation and in opposition to the old; the new world appears in -itself to be pre-eminently a kingdom of love. Love is primarily not a -subjective emotion, but an expansion and a deepening of life, through -life setting itself in the other, taking the other up into itself; and -in this movement life itself becomes greater, more comprehensive and -noble. Love is not a mere relation of given individuals, but a -development and a growing in communion, an elevation and an animation of -the original condition. And this movement of love has no limits; it has -all infinity for its development; it extends beyond the relation to -persons to the relation to things; for things also reveal their -innermost being only to a disposition of love. Again, the striving after -truth in science and art cannot succeed without love and an animation -that proceeds from it, without inwardly becoming one with the object. -How could this unity and activity in the whole be possible, how could -it even become an object of desire, if the whole itself did not strive? -And how could such a wealth of cultures proceed out of this movement if -that which was striven towards at one time was not taken up and carried -further by other times; how could the single movements tend together -without the unifying and elevating power of a universal life? As a -phenomenon to the individual, the movement involves a definite -contradiction: wherever it has been further and more freely developed it -has been directed to a kingdom of love; and this has necessarily been -thought of as the soul of reality, and a severe conflict has been taken -up against the world of self-assertion. Thus in the realm of morality -also we find ourselves in world-movements, we create out of the whole, -work towards the whole, and are borne on the flood of infinite life. - -Accordingly, life-developments of various and related kinds arise: with -their manifold experiences they strive to attain to a harmony and a -union with one another. They can seek these only on the basis of a -self-consciousness of reality; find them only through their unification -in a universal life, to which each individual tendency leads. -Representations of the whole are attempted at the highest points of -creative activity by philosophy, religion, and art; these -representations accompany, indeed govern, the work in these spheres of -life through history. But the limitations of our capacity, through which -we are unable to give a suitable form to necessary contents, and through -which we attribute and must attribute human traits to that which should -lead us beyond the human, are of particular force in this matter of -forming a representation of the whole; and, indeed, this is the more so -the further we remove ourselves from that which may be immediately -transformed in work. These representations of the whole are, therefore, -inadequate; their content of truth is clothed in a wrapping of myth, and -humanity lies under the danger of taking the myth for the chief thing -and thus of obscuring the truth, and this must produce an incalculable -amount of error and strife. Still, it is impossible to give up all claim -to these representations of the whole; for they alone make the fact of -our belonging to the whole and of the presence of the whole in our life -quite clear and enable it to exert a far-reaching influence. Only with -their help can the degeneration of life to the intolerable -insignificance of the narrowly human be resisted; only with their help -can a movement from whole to whole begin. - -Thus it is a matter not so much of abandoning these representations of -the whole as of referring them continually to their essence; to those -unfoldings of life which are experienced by us; to test them by these -and to renew them from these. It was the error of the earlier -position--much too indulgent to Intellectualism-that it did not -sufficiently maintain the relation with these living sources, and so -fell into the danger of having no definite tendency, or even of failing -to recognise the relativity of the myth. If a more energetic direction -of life upon its own content and experiences teaches us to preserve -these connections better and to develop them more forcefully, a new type -of representation of the whole is yielded in contrast to the old, and -far more different from it than may appear at the first glance. We may -hope that with its development the truth will be seen more clearly -through the myth, and that the striving, which we cannot give up, to win -a universal life may not lead us astray into a world of dreams. - - -(c) THE MOVEMENT OF THE SPIRITUAL LIFE IN MAN - -The question as to in which direction the spiritual life moves in man is -implied through our whole investigation, and in it receives an answer. -Nevertheless, it requires to be definitely stated and treated by itself, -so that the distinctive character of the movement and its influence in -the moulding of life may be fully acknowledged. It has become clearly -evident to us that an independent and, therefore, genuine spiritual -life cannot arise out of life in its usual condition, but only in -opposition to this condition. For, however little this condition of life -may lack spiritual elements, they are mixed and bound up with other -elements far too much to be able to bind themselves immediately into a -whole, and to display an independent power. That the spiritual life must -and can gain a basis independent of this condition of life is the -indispensable, fundamental idea of Idealism. But such attainment of -independence of the usual condition would help little if the spiritual -life which is based upon itself had not a particular nature of its own, -and if from this it did not oppose everything alien and partly alien to -itself. The doctrines of innate ideas, of an _a priori_, and so on, -which have occupied humanity for thousands of years did not intend -anything different from this. The details of the conception of these -were indeed often open to criticism: it was sought to exhibit individual -conceptions and propositions as existing complete at the beginning, -where rather movements or tendencies are in question, which can find -their realisation only within the work of life. Again, the _a priori_ -was limited to the intellectual sphere, whereas it is indispensable to -all spiritual activity; for example, how can morality, rising above -merely natural preservation and rejecting all mere utility, as it does, -be conceived without such an _a priori_? To deny to spiritual life an -original nature and power--an _a priori_ in this more comprehensive -sense--means nothing else than to eliminate that life as an independent -factor, and to reduce it to the position of a secondary product. For -without an original nature the spiritual life would be like soft wax -that may be shaped in one form or another to suit our own pleasure: then -the spiritual life could not possibly follow its own aims, could not -possibly attain to an independence in the inner life, in which we -recognised the characteristic nature of the inner life. As certain as it -is that there is a spiritual life at all, so certainly does it bring -certain fundamental tendencies and movements with it; as surely as it -develops in particular directions--and that it does this we have -seen--so surely is this _a priori_ also differentiated. To trace this -fundamental state of spiritual activity in all its relations and -multiplicity is an especially important task of philosophic research. - -The revelation of such an original fundamental activity of the spirit -must induce us to undertake to form our whole world from this activity, -and to produce from it or to transform into it that which exists over -against activity as an independent realm of experience. This has been -attempted for thousands of years with the summoning of an enormous amount -of spiritual power and the arousing of a proud self-consciousness. But -failure was inevitable because it was not recognised that the development -of the spiritual life in man is conditioned. However certain it may be -that original spiritual movements must be active within us, they are not -so with organised content and overwhelming power from the beginning, but -they acquire content and power only through the process of life itself, -only in grappling with the oppositions of experience and in the -appropriation of the tasks and stimuli which experience brings to them. -The incompleteness and the mutability of what was accepted earlier as a -fixed and unchangeable racial possession of the spiritual life is to-day -quite clearly perceived. What great changes morality, for example, has -undergone in the course of the ages; how toilsomely has much been won -which later ages have considered self-evident! To be sure, morality -remains, even through all such changes, an original spiritual phenomenon, -which can never be derived from an external source, but which could -emerge and establish itself only as an inner necessity of the spiritual -life in opposition to the realm of mere utility. But the actuality of -this original phenomenon gives rise to a difficult problem, for the -solution of which a closer contact with the environment, a fundamental -arrangement with experience, is necessary. And so the problem is traced -to a more ultimate source, and, though this makes the matter less -simple, it gives a higher significance to our work and to the movement -of history. - -Even the fundamental forms of thought which are often accepted as of -everything the most fixed share in this gradual amplification. Man, so -far as he participates in spiritual impulse, thinks, of course, in -conceptions; he gives to appearances fixed points of support by the -establishing of things, and relates events causally. But all this is -full of problems and is comprehended only in its upward endeavour; it -raises more problems than it solves; and around the solution of these -the whole work of science moves. What different things the "idea" meant -to Plato and to Kant, and to ancient and to modern thought generally: -how every thinker of moment has given a particular conception of -substance and of causality; how whole epochs have exhibited their -particular nature in the treatment of these problems! - -For the sake of its own perfection, therefore, the spiritual life must -continually turn back to the realm of experience, from which, at first, -it tore itself free. Attempts to evolve the whole life from that _a -priori_ have always given as a result something of a bloodless nature, -abstract in the highest degree, a mere web of formulæ, in so far as -experience, which had been relegated to the background, has not -indirectly asserted its right again, and infused the formulæ with life. -Accordingly, our life does not spend itself in one direction, but bears -within it the counter-tendencies of a tearing oneself free from the -world of sense and a returning back to it, of a detachment from it and -an appropriation of it to oneself. But, in this, independent life and -bound life do not become combined; how could that be the case without -the loss of all inner unity? A basis is necessary; and it is furnished -only by self-determining activity. Experience acquires a spiritual -content and value only so far as it is based upon this activity, and is -taken up into a spiritual movement. Experience does not share something -with the spiritual life, but, through stimulation and opposition, it -forces that life to further development within itself. The state in -which the world of sense is first found undergoes an inner elevation in -that appropriation: sense presentation, for example, is to scientific -work something quite different from what it is to naïve perception; even -if it obstinately withstands a complete resolution into magnitudes of -pure thought, it takes up more and more thought elements; it enters into -conceptual relations; it answers questions which the work of thought -sets. To the whole sphere of sense science gives the background of a -world of thought, and transforms mere sense into a spatially bound -spirituality. - -The same thing is valid with regard to the things of value in life; in -these, also, sense and spirit are not simply combined; but something of -sense becomes a spiritual good only so far as it serves the spiritual -life in some way; it cannot do this, however, without itself undergoing -a transformation. This is to be seen nowhere more clearly than in -economics. Money and estate had at all times a value for -self-preservation and enjoyment, but in the doctrine of economics and -political economy they could obtain acknowledgment only after a power to -advance the spiritual life had been recognised in them. As culture in -the ancient world had not yet reached this point of view, it branded all -endeavour after material wealth as inferior, and as far as possible -checked such endeavour. Only since the Modern Age has recognised in -money and estate an indispensable means of gaining control over the -surrounding world and of increasing human power have they secured a -place within the spiritual life, and as a result of this have become -more highly estimated. At the same time, however, they have been changed -inwardly in the process, since that which they achieve, not towards -ostentatious display and enjoyment, but towards the increase of human -power over things has become the chief matter. - -As in this way the content and the value of that which is offered by the -world of sense shows its dependence upon the condition of the spiritual -life, so in science also a similar relation between experience and the -spiritual life is found. Science appeals to experience with particular -zeal, more especially after it has first accomplished far-reaching -changes in its own thought constructions; only then does experience give -anything new to knowledge and exhibit a greater depth. Experience can -answer only in the measure in which it is questioned; the question, -however, varies according to the stage of development of the spiritual -life. - -Such a view fully appreciates the significance of life-work, and must -strive energetically to gain its acknowledgment. This work is not a -carrying out of a complete scheme in a given condition of things, an -application of firmly rooted principles to particular cases, but a -self-realisation and self-perfecting of the spiritual life which builds -up a self-conscious reality. In this our life is not divided between two -different realms, but, in a comprehensive spiritual world, different -stages of reality meet together, which must be brought into relation and -developed. To be sure, the world of sense retains a certain -independence; it resists a complete transformation into spiritual -magnitudes, and our life, therefore, retains a certain restriction and -impenetrability. But the self-consciousness of the spirit becomes more -and more the chief basis and sphere of life: this self-consciousness -continually takes up more into itself; it makes the world that was to us -at first primary, indeed the only world, more and more secondary and -subordinate. - -This increasing spiritualisation of human life never becomes a sure -possession that calls for no toil; ever anew it demands our attention -and activity; it has continually to be won anew as a whole. As soon as -the tension slackens, the world of experience with its appeal to sense -preponderates, and it soon appears to be man's sole world, one which -cannot tolerate anything beyond itself. For the spiritualisation of -human life, a longing rooted in the whole being is primarily necessary; -for with the keen feeling of the vanity of the world of sense -experience, this leads to the removal of the centre of life into the -invisible world of self-determining activity. Further, a clear -presentation of this invisible world is needed; and in this the help of -the visible is not to be dispensed with. For its own establishment the -realm of the invisible must borrow means of expression from the visible, -which now governs human presentation; must transform and refine them for -its aims; prepare out of them an impressive presentation of the whole. -Along with the energy of turning to the spiritual life a creative -imagination is required, through which the invisible may become equal to -holding its own against the visible. - -The help of such imagination is indispensable for religion, in order -that the supernatural world advocated by it may gain an effective -presence in the province of humanity. And so with bold upward flights of -imagination the heroes of religion have projected a new condition of -reality as a whole, a kingdom of justice or of love, and have judged -human existence by the standard of this new condition. Similarly, -philosophy did not become an independent world of thought without the -help of imagination; and of how indispensable it is to art we need not -speak at all. Again, work in political, social, educational matters, at -least as far as radical renewals are concerned, has really been taken up -and carried on, and has won a triumphant power, only where the state -striven for has been presented as something visible and clearly present; -this alone has united the multiplicity, and has led with compelling -force beyond the extant situation as though that were something -intolerable. Humanity as a whole must be present in an ideal condition -to our minds for us to be aroused sufficiently from our indolence. - -Our life, therefore, contains movements which tend in opposite -directions: there are a pressing forward and a turning backward, a -detachment from experience and a taking up again of experience; and so -we may well speak of an action and reaction within its movement. But -the antitheses that arise aid in advancement only so long as they are -encompassed by a whole of activity. In that the course of history -increases far more than it diminishes the antitheses, the dangers grow -more and more, the possibilities and the tasks of human existence, -however, also grow. - - -(d) THE EMERGENCE OF A NEW TYPE OF LIFE - -The conception of the spiritual life here developed gives rise to a -particular type of life which can bring about a transformation and -elevation of man from two main positions: the union of man with the -spiritual life is much closer, and the spiritual life in itself is -incomparably more, than is represented by the customary conception of -that life. For in our conception man does not merely enter into some -kind of relation with the spiritual life, but finds his own being in it, -and becomes so completely united with it that it is able to determine -him immediately as his own self. The spiritual life is not a particular -function among others, not a part or an aspect of a more comprehensive -world, but is itself a world, and, indeed, a world in which life first -attains to self-consciousness and becomes a complete reality. If this -world becomes the immediate possession of man himself, his life must -experience a deep-reaching change, indeed a revolution of its usual -condition: to trace the main tendencies of this revolution is our -immediate task. - - -(1) _Life's Attainment of Greatness_ - -The placing of man in the spiritual life, becoming aware of its own -independence, must make the forms of this life his own, and in this way -bring about a reversal of the commonplace of every day. Life is -transposed from the narrowness of its merely particular nature to -infinity; what was hitherto alien and hostile to man is changed into his -own possession, and is able to arouse an animating and elevating love. -At the same time a deliverance from subjectivity and its web of -interests and ideas is effected, to the advantage of a life-process that -takes up the object into itself, and thus advances to independence and -sovereign creation; a life is attained that is not spent in movement to -and fro between antitheses, but unfolds a content through them. As this -life attains to complete independence only because it produces a -universal activity in contrast to individual activities, so -participation in this life must lead man beyond division to a -comprehensive unity. It is this that is sought in the idea of -personality--an idea which is often quite obscure and superficial, but -which can in this context be elucidated, manifest its complete -significance, and prove its power of development. - -As the spiritual life is a self-consciousness, so man also wins from it -a life that is not exhausted by activity directed upon anything external -to this life, and that does not expect its content from outside like an -empty vessel, but would be itself and realise the possibilities lying -within itself. So far as such a life extends man does not stand on the -border of things but in the centre, in the formation and creation of the -whole; he experiences the world not as something external but from -within. The question of the limits of this life is no longer primary but -secondary, and the answer to this question is to be expected from the -experience of life, not from preliminary reflections. Since, in this, -life has a content in itself and develops this content through its -movement, it distinctly grows above all the play of forces with which it -is often confused; if such a play of forces suffices for a lower stage -it cannot suffice for further development. For the feeling of joyous -excitement which accompanies the exertion of power is not sufficient in -opposition to the serious perplexities that accompany all spiritual -work; indeed, not even against the cares and needs that are involved in -the mere preservation of existence in an advancing culture. Life then -easily comes to be regarded as full of trouble and of work, and becomes -a burden from which one wishes to be delivered. Life is not from the -beginning a good, but it must prove itself to be such by its more -detailed development. In the spiritual life this comes to pass, since it -produces a reality out of itself; it does not become valuable first in -its relation to the external world, but it carries a value in itself, as -is clearly shown by the joy that permeates all experience of the true, -the good, and the beautiful. This joy must be further increased if all -the multiplicity of this experience is regarded as the unfolding of a -comprehensive and persistent fundamental life. - -A life of this kind is no indefinite impulse; it cannot become an -independent reality without penetrating into every aspect and making the -ordinary state of things everywhere inadequate, indeed intolerable. -Since the independent spirituality and spiritual character that is -acquired, and that which the particular thing and activity signifies in -the spiritual life as a whole, everywhere constitutes the most important -question, the problem of truth will be raised at each point; and in this -way a sharp division will be made between the genuine and the spurious; -everything that strives within us in the direction of the spirit will -unite and acquire a more stable basis; everything that would satisfy man -in other ways will be seen to be empty and vain. Life now acquires a -deeper reality, but this must first be reached and brought to complete -effect. New forms, in contrast to the ordinary representations, must -also make their appearance if life is to be equal to the task of -developing content and character. - -Life in the individual must have roots deeper than the immediate -psychical life; for psychical life cannot itself produce and make clear -that which occurs in it, for this reason at least, that it involves the -antithesis of individual and environment, of subject and object, beyond -which spiritual creation results. The spiritual impulse that the -immediate life of the soul manifests can be based only upon deeper -realities and more comprehensive relations. And so a _noölogical_ -treatment is to be distinguished from the psychological, not in order to -displace or limit the latter, but rather to complete it; and it is a -problem to show the point of transition in the immediate life of the -soul. The significance of the individual life, as far as content is -concerned, will depend upon whether an independent spirituality arises -within it, and constitutes it a distinctive life-centre. According to -the new standards a free spiritual activity does not suffice, however -extended it may be, and however sustained by subjective emotion. For all -such activity may be without spiritual substance, and in spite of all -external results the life that is nothing but this activity may remain -spiritually destitute: how shallow many individuals are whose -achievements deserve and obtain the highest appreciation! The inwardness -that the spiritual life requires is not simply a reflex of work in the -soul--from that little is gained--but the forming of a characteristic -spiritual self-consciousness that lifts us above all mere achievement, -and also by giving to activity a soul first makes it complete. - -We have often seen how the acknowledgment of an independent spiritual -life forces us to make a sharper distinction between human history and -human society and all merely natural history and merely natural -co-existence of men. At the same time, in that which is called history -and society, a distinction between an esoteric and an exoteric kind is -also required. The value of individual epochs and of history as a whole -depends upon the spiritual substance that grows up in them; everything -else, to whatever extent it may, with commotion and external result, -assume the air of being the chief thing, is only environment or -supplement. Similarly, in the case of society, the spiritual content, if -it has one at all, and human fortune and conduct must become more -distinctly separated. There is far less genuine history and society than -is usually assumed; but this little signifies incomparably more than -both would imply without the spiritual life. - -Similarly, with the acknowledgment of an independent spiritual life in -us, a new light is shed upon the individual departments of life, and new -tasks are set them. They have now, primarily, not to further human -well-being, to be of service in the attainment of narrowly human aims, -but they are characteristic unfoldings of the spiritual life. The -particular nature of these departments has its basis in that life, and -they must prove their capacity by advancing it. They are concerned with -man only so far as he participates in the spiritual life; and so they -will not so much strengthen him in his human nature as elevate him -spiritually, and remould him more and more to the form of the spiritual -life. A deliverance from the confusion of that which is narrowly human -with the spiritual is also necessary, and, along with this, life as a -whole must be more energetically based upon the spiritual life, and the -spiritual life itself must be given a more distinct form. From the -position of this life, that which has been handed down to us must be -evaluated and new paths must be opened up for the future. Religion could -obtain no content, and all change in it would be only an advance from a -more crude to a more refined anthropomorphism, if it were based solely -upon human needs and aided man to attain a supposed happiness. Religion -rises above such a condition of doubt only if it exhibits its roots in -an independent spiritual life and is able to show its actuality and its -power by aiding the development of the spiritual life. At its highest -religion has always been concerned with winning a new world and a new -humanity, not with the achievement of something within the old world and -for the old humanity. And as we need a religion of the spiritual life, -we also need a morality, an art, and, finally, an all-comprehensive -spiritual culture, through which something really new may be produced -and man be elevated in this being, and not simply circle round and round -continually in the old paths. Everywhere the matter is one of advance -and revelation; from this point of view the complexes of every day must -also be seen in a new light, and in what is apparently simple and -self-evident great achievements and tasks become manifest. We now, for -the first time and in another sense, win again that which we thought we -already possessed; indeed, by the revolution to the spiritual life, life -as a whole is transformed into a task. Every individual has such a -life-embracing task in the cultivation of a genuine personality and a -spiritual individuality. Humanity as a whole has such a task in the -building up of a kingdom of reason within its domain, in the furtherance -of the movement which comes to it from the whole and summons it to -co-operation. - -Human life by participation in the spiritual life finds its basis in the -inward and spontaneous, in the infinite and eternal. The development and -the experiences of the spiritual life and its conflict with a world, -which is only being won, are here the chief content of human life and -unite individuals inwardly; the destinies of individuals receive their -particular nature from such a common life. As this life of independent -spirituality is possible only by detachment from the chaotic condition -of life as we find it at its general level, the development of the -spiritual life must make us clearly conscious of the spiritual -destitution of the majority; and especially must it oppose the attempt -on the part of such a life as that of the majority to present itself as -the whole, and to make itself the standard of human endeavour. In such -an attempt the trivially human inevitably preponderates, and this now, -at its highest points, invests itself with ostentatious pomp and a -feeling of power; now, almost as a whole, relies on the reason of the -masses, which loudly and noisily proclaims that those things which -according to human opinion are valuable are of all things the highest; -confidently makes its judgment and its task the standard of truth; and, -with arrogant presumption, demands a reverence towards itself that is -due solely to the spiritual world. From of old there have been many -indictments of this, but as long as a new life, based in the spiritual -world in contrast with merely human life, was not attained to, these -indictments did not lead to a deliverance. Under the guidance of -religion humanity has evolved such a life and for thousands of years has -found support in it. However, humanity has lost this life and this -support, in its old form, and the loss was inevitable. If humanity will -strive after a new form and at the same time transcend mere appearance, -it can attain to this only on the basis of the spiritual life, that is -acknowledged to be independent. Only on this basis can it enter into the -conflict on the side of gods against idols, for truth against appearance -and emptiness. - -The new life cannot develop without elevating the individual in his -spiritual nature above all environment. For, as surely as the -construction of a spiritual reality within humanity needs a union of all -powers, there is a spontaneous springing up of the independent spiritual -life only within the soul of the individual. All social and all -historical life that does not unceasingly draw from this source falls -irrecoverably into a state of stagnation and desolation. The individual -can never be reduced to the position of a mere member of society; of a -church, of a state; notwithstanding all external subordination he must -assert an inner superiority; each spiritual individual is more than the -whole external world. But as the individual does not derive this -superiority from himself, not from a natural particularity and -peculiarity in distinction from others, but only from the presence of a -spiritual world, so he is securely guarded from all vain self-assurance -and the arrogance of the idea of the Superman, which grotesquely -distorts the great fact of the revelation of a universal life at -individual points. - -The desire for the presence of the infinite at the individual point may -be characterised as an approximation to mysticism. Indeed, we need both -a metaphysic and a mysticism; but we want both in a new form, not in the -old. It seems to us preposterous to declare that necessary demands of -the spiritual life are finally disposed of, because the older solution -has become inadequate. If man does not in some way succeed in -appropriating the spiritual life, if it is not actively present as a -whole within him and animating him, then his relation to the spiritual -life remains for ever an external one; and this life cannot acquire a -complete spontaneity in him, can never become a genuine life of his own. -But the older mysticism was the offspring of a worn-out age, which -primarily reflected upon quietness and peace, and was under the -influence of a philosophy that sought the truth in striving towards the -most comprehensive universal, and saw in all particularity a defect -(_omnis determinatio negatio_). And so, to be completely merged in the -formless infinite could be regarded as the culmination of life. As the -spiritual life is to us, on the contrary, an increasing activity and -creation, a world of self-determining activity, so its being called to -life at individual points is a rousing of life to its highest energy; in -this also, a continual appropriation is necessary. Further, the movement -of the spiritual life does not appear to us as an advance from -particular to universal, but as one from differentiation to the living -whole; from the indefiniteness of the beginnings to complete -organisation and distinctive form. The inwardness that we advocate is -not a feeble echo and a yearning for dissolution, but is of an active -and masculine nature, and rests on ceaseless self-determining activity. -One may or may not call this mysticism; in any case mysticism of such a -kind cannot be charged with that which now appears to us to be defect or -error in the older form. - - -(2) _The Increase of Movement_ - -As certainly as a universal life must surround us and, with efficient -power, in some way be implanted within us, yet only our own activity can -appropriate and amplify that life for us. As the transition to the -independent spiritual life changes the problem so that no achievement -in a given world will satisfy it, but only the winning of a new world, -our existence must become much more active; our life must be made not -only much more comprehensive but also inwardly transformed and deepened. - -Naïve opinion is accustomed to presuppose a fixed sphere for our -activity; it is possible for it to do this only because it confuses the -spiritual and that which is less than the spiritual and leaves them -undifferentiated. Since the attainment of independence by the spiritual -life makes this confusion impossible, it may at the same time be -recognised that the fixed relations in which we seem to be are also in -reality due to our own activity. From this fact a method of treatment is -justified, the introduction of which constitutes one of the greatest -services of Kant. This method in his own terminology is the -transcendental method. Unlike ordinary opinion, it does not regard the -relation of the departments of life and all its activities as being -self-evident, but it enquires into the inner possibility of this -relation, that is, it indicates the conditions without which the union -of the manifold could not be accomplished; it reveals the spiritual -activity that exists in the whole. It reveals a far finer texture of -life; it shows syntheses from the whole to the elements; it indicates -clearer limits and makes us more definitely recognise what -differentiates the individual departments. This is what Kant did in the -case of scientific knowledge, of morality, and of the realm of the -beautiful. The transcendental method itself is first indisputably -justified and given a secure foundation with the acknowledgment that a -world of independent spirituality emerges in man, and this through his -own activity, not by a mere favour and gift of destiny. For, when this -independent spiritual world is acknowledged it first becomes a matter -beyond doubt that the basis, and the bonds which unite the whole, could -not be given, but must proceed from our own activity. The transcendental -method must therefore be applied not only to the individual branches but -also to the whole, and the possibility of a spiritual life in man in -general made a problem. Then from the whole the method must also be -extended to the departments that are not brought into prominence by -Kant; it must discuss, for example, the possibility of history in a -characteristically human sense. Since our reality is thus dependent in -the first place upon our own activity, life and movement acquire a wider -scope and a greater value. - -The movement of life also tends to be increased by the fact that in our -conviction the more detailed form of the spiritual life itself must -first be won by our activity, and that this detail can be acquired only -little by little through attempts, experiences, convulsions; that for -man the spiritual life with its actuality forms a difficult problem. -What more particularly separates us from the Enlightenment is that while -for it the ultimately valid form of the spiritual life appeared to be -immediately present and to need only an energetic working out, we extend -the historical treatment not only to the representation, but also to the -nature, of the spiritual life; and so the ultimately valid form of the -spiritual life appears to be a high ideal, to which man can only -gradually approximate. The fact that endeavour is centred not upon -externals but primarily upon our own being must make our activity far -more significant and more intense; and this leads to a higher estimate -of history as well as of a historical treatment. As hence epochs are no -longer distinguished simply by their achievements, but by the nature of -their spiritual life, so the life of the present must also be given its -place in the moving stream, and so our innermost nature also depends on -spiritual work. - -If with such an increase of movement much is mutable that otherwise -seemed to be as firm as a rock; and if, in particular, the foundations -of life themselves also suffer change, life seems to lose all support -and to fall into an unlimited relativism. Indeed, life must thus lose -all stability if in the spiritual sphere movement does not involve -something in opposition to change: and this as a fact it does involve. -As the spiritual life cannot develop a content without presenting it as -timeless, there is no great achievement in history that does not include -some kind of timeless truth, and the movement of the spiritual life is -not merely a flowing onward with time but also an elevation above time. -In spiritual work, therefore, the achievements of the ages can be -surveyed and examined; indeed, in distinguishing between past and not -past the sequence of times can be transformed into a timeless present. -Of course this is valid only with the presupposition of an absolute -spiritual life, which is present in all the uncertainty and change of -human undertaking, and does not allow it to become fixed in error. -Unless an immanence of the absolute spiritual life is acknowledged, an -essential characteristic of the spiritual work of the Modern Age remains -absolutely unintelligible, namely, its critical character. Modern work -is not completely objective, and occupation with the object does not -completely exhaust that work; but activity realises its independence of -the object, investigates its relation to the object, surveys that which -has been achieved, and tests it by transcendent standards. Such a -critique belongs especially to the fundamental nature of the -Enlightenment, to the proud self-confidence of which a conscientious -self-examination forms a necessary antithesis. The critical method -reached its highest point in Kant, and we can never go back again upon -the transformation of life that has been effected by it. But how could -the critique be justified and exercise such far-reaching influence as it -has done, if it were not more than a product of a subjective reflection -that accompanies the object, and that has to do with the object -externally? The critique could effect an inner transformation and -elevation of work only because it set new forces in motion. And it did -this in that it measured all human achievement by the demands of a -transcendent spiritual life and out of it developed inner necessities, -to which all achievement had to correspond. So the movement was not lost -through the lack of an aim; and life did not flow onward with the stream -of presentations, but found a support in itself; it was able to exert a -powerful counteraction; it did not need to acknowledge anything that -had not proved its validity before the judgment-seat of immanent reason. -This emergence of the question of validity in contrast to that of -actuality must inwardly raise and ennoble the movement of life; it -reveals to man an active relation not only to the environment but -primarily to himself; it leads to a ceaseless differentiation and -examination of the quality of life. - -It is true that the Enlightenment, which acknowledged that alone to be -true which was clearly and distinctly cognised, exercised this critique -in a too narrow manner; yet notwithstanding all that may be -problematical in its application to details, the right and the necessity -of the fundamental idea are not thereby overthrown: the question -remains; it can be fully justified only in the relations that we have -indicated; but at the same time it must be transferred from the merely -intellectual to the spiritual as a whole, and form in relation to the -whole that which in the state of culture contains and develops an -independent spirituality and a self-conscious life; but by this it gains -a content of truth. This self-consciousness alone can be regarded as -essence and genuine reality, while everything else is reduced to mere -environment and becomes matter of secondary importance, if not of mere -appearance. Task after task is revealed, more especially for the -present; we see how, with the attainment of independence by the -spiritual life, the movement is not only extended, but also grows -inwardly and tends towards the elevation of life. - - -(3) _The Gain of Stability_ - -The movement of the spiritual life as not only directed towards the -outside but also turned inwards towards itself gained for us a greater -independence. But even that which emerges from within exists only in the -process of formation, and in this that which satisfies us to-day may -to-morrow be uncertain; and so we cannot dismiss the question whether -the spiritual life lacks the necessary stability; whether, in the midst -of all becoming and change, caprice and subjectivity are not without the -necessary opposition. In any case, the question of fixation must have a -different appearance within a system of life based upon activity from -that it would have within a system which proceeded from a given world: -in the former, that which is fixed cannot be introduced from outside, -but must exist within the movement itself; it can manifest itself only -through a movement of a kind and form which transcend the utmost -capacity of the mere subject. - -Our investigation as a whole contends that the fixity is of this kind; -and at this point only a short revision and a summing up are required. -All spiritual activity is, as we saw, a transcendence of the antithesis -of subject and object; it is progressive and formative universal -activity. But this activity cannot be produced and formed according to -desire or fancy; we must be elevated into it; and, as a result of this, -we feel that we are under the compulsion of an inner necessity, which -distinctly counteracts the caprice of the mere subject. We saw, further, -that within the life-process spiritual contents are raised out of the -stream of events, and that they unite so as to form a world in contrast -with that stream, a world greater and more comprehensive, which -nevertheless continues within our life. This applies to all the branches -of our work; everywhere the deciding step to joyful advance is when -activity proceeds from mere search and contemplation under the necessity -of the object. No resolution, however, or even the most sincere -volition, can of itself force us to this decisive step. Man must be -taken possession of by a spiritual activity and power, and elevated -above the state of groping and doubt. This is shown in all scientific -work and artistic creation; everywhere success does not appear to be the -work of the human, but a gift and a grace from higher forces; everywhere -those who have created have felt guided and sustained by such forces. -Beyond individuals humanity as a whole develops complexes in science, in -law, and so on, which evolve inner necessities and require their -recognition and fulfilment by man, and follow courses of their own -regardless of the weal or the woe of individuals; so far as life follows -these tendencies, it is elevated above doubt to a state of stability and -joyfulness. - -Such movements appear at first as a multiplicity, and are most directly -effective through that which is distinctive in the particular -departments of life. But through all multiplicity and above it, there is -a striving towards a comprehensive unity; every advance towards this -unity is an immediate gain in stability and certainty. Nothing helps the -individual to become inwardly firm more than the unification of his life -in a whole of activity, more than becoming certain of an inward -all-comprehensive task in the development of a spiritual individuality. -The development of a spiritual individuality is a task that comes to him -from within, and which, while it is more than anything else his own, is -yet above all caprice. This task may tend little to promote that which -is usually called happiness; the striving to fulfil it may transform the -whole of existence into a state of toil and trouble, of conflict and -care; and yet it alone gives to life a meaning and a value, a sure -direction and a secure self-consciousness, and by assuring man of a -spiritual existence of his own makes him certain of the spiritual life -as a whole. Such a unification of the manifold activities so as to form -a life-work, an incomparable kind of spiritual being, is something -entirely axiomatic, which is in no way derived from outside. Again, this -unification does not depend upon particular representations of the -world; only the fanaticism of party can bind it to definite doctrines of -the human and the divine. It itself, however, is a secure starting-point -for the development of convictions; its acknowledgment involves the -acknowledgment of a spiritual world independent of and operative within -us, and summoning us to co-operation, even though this implication is -often concealed from consciousness. Where our own life lacks such a -fountain-head the conviction of a spiritual life never attains to -axiomatic certainty, but depends on the thin threads of reasons and -proofs, and therefore is most easy to overthrow. And so, for the -overcoming of doubt and faintheartedness everything depends upon -attaining to a unity of activity and creation which inwardly embraces -life as a whole, and with this, upon being something, not simply doing -something. - -What is valid of individuals is valid also of peoples and epochs, of -humanity as a whole. Whether a people feels certain of a spiritual life, -and is thereby elevated to a state of inward joyfulness, depends -primarily upon whether it recognises and acknowledges in itself a common -spiritual task: if this is not the case, the acutest apologetic cannot -prevent the increase of doubt and faintness of heart. Similarly, the -disposition and life-feeling of epochs is decided primarily by whether -their endeavour unites them inwardly or whether it is divided, and at -the same time becomes inconsistent. The endeavour of our own time does -suffer from such division and inconsistency; it is this in particular -that gives the negative tendency so much power over us and in the midst -of all greatness of achievement in external matters makes us inwardly -despondent. Humanity as a whole can attain to a stable spiritual life -which is more than that of the particular times and peoples only by the -revelation and appropriation of an all-comprehensive task which governs -it with inner necessities. Such a task alone makes life a preservation -of spiritual character; and gives conviction an unshakable firmness, and -a joyous confidence of victory. And so everywhere only the formation of -life itself is able to guarantee to it inner stability; the movement -itself by its elevation above all caprice and its inner unity is alone -able to overcome the dangers which the transformation of life into -activity brings with it. - - -(e) ACTIVISM: A PROFESSION OF FAITH - -The system of life here developed receives its distinctive colour and -tone chiefly because it brings into prominence the fact that we do not -belong to a world of reason, which from the beginning had only to be -perceived and enjoyed, but that we have first to advance to such a -world; and for this we require a revolution of the first condition of -things. The basis of true life must continually be won anew; and even -the individual achievement always contains a decision between one and -another type of life. Only through ceaseless activity can life remain at -the height to which it has attained; that which life experiences and -receives is judged according to the more precise form of activity. Since -it gives this precedence to activity, to such activity, this system may -be called "Activism." Activism, however, demonstrates its unique -character and develops its capacity only if it is definitely -distinguished from all other apparently related tendencies. Neither a -sudden resolution nor even a mere incitement of power brings us at once -into the condition of activity. For at first we are surrounded and -embraced by a world of inflexible nature and of feeble spirituality, -which is at the same time mixed with human pretence: this world binds us -so strongly, and suppresses all independence with such force, that the -mere individual remains entirely powerless in opposition to it, and -could soar to no higher wisdom than that of an involuntary submission to -it. Activity without release from the given world is an absurdity; but -such release is attainable only through the living presence of a world -of self-determining activity; the power of such a world alone is able to -arouse the individual to self-determining activity. But how could man -appropriate this world to himself without changing its life into his -own; without acknowledging its content as valid for himself also; -without making its laws norms of his conduct? - -Activity in this way acquires an ethical character; it is this which -draws the boundary line between spiritual activity and merely natural -impulse, and distinguishes genuine from imaginary self-determining -activity. Ethical relation does not mean a submission to alien and -unsympathetic regulations, but a taking up of the infinite spiritual -world into our own volition and being: this relation brings things close -to us and reveals them, so that they are able to impart their life to -us, and we are able to grow with their growth. So understood, ethical -relation is primarily not regulative but productive; it is not merely -being prepared to fulfil certain demands, when they are made upon us, to -live in accordance with strict regulations, but it involves the motive -of aiding in the development of the world, of advancing everything good -and true: it requires an untiring forward endeavour and advance to the -building up of a kingdom of reason and love. If in this way conduct is -lifted above the pursuit of that which pleases and interests the mere -subject, this is not on behalf of something alien, but for the elevation -of our own being, for the sake of this genuine being, for the sake of -our spiritual self. - -It is this inner elevation and this demand for a new world that -distinguishes Activism from all mere Voluntarism and Pragmatism, to -which it appears to approximate, and with which, in its negative aspect, -it is, indeed, associated. For it shares with them the rejection of an -intellectualistic view of life, in which cognition is regarded as -finding truth of its own power and as conveying it to the rest of life. -Further, Activism desires, as do Voluntarism and Pragmatism also, the -basing of truth upon a more spontaneous and essential activity. But the -flight to the will is more a reaction against Intellectualism than an -overcoming of the difficulty. As such the will does not yield a new -world and a transcendent power; it may, therefore, be that mere volition -is implicitly transformed into a self-determining activity encompassing -the whole extent of life. Pragmatism, also, which has recently made so -much headway among English-speaking peoples and beyond them, is more -inclined to shape the world and life in accordance with human condition -and needs than to invest spiritual activity with an independence in -relation to these, and apply its standards to the testing and sifting of -the whole content of human life. But after the experiences of history -the claim to this latter can scarcely be given up. After man has been -seen to be particular and limited in nature, as things first present -themselves, he no longer suffices for the starting-point of the -endeavour for truth, but to attain to this starting-point an elevation -above the human into a universal spiritual life is necessary. And that -is the intention of Activism. - -The unique character of Activism becomes clearer especially in -comparison with organisations of life, of which one indeed makes -activity the chief thing, but gives to it the character of a mere -process; while another thinks of the fundamental relation of man to -reality in general not under the ideas of conduct and progress but under -those of contemplation and enjoyment. The idea that life constitutes a -process transcending all human endeavour and decision has shown a strong -power of attraction in the Modern Age; and, in the system of Hegel -especially, has found an imposing embodiment. This idea is asserted most -definitely in the evolutionary conception of history, since it regards -the motive power of history as striving to its aim, certain of -accomplishing it, and unaffected by human opinion and preference. By -this deliverance from the insignificance of human motives and the -variations of human conditions the object seemed to gain incomparably in -greatness; but it was considered that this deliverance from man involved -an elevation above the ethical conception, which then appeared to be -something subjectively human. But not only does this conception of a -process that ceaselessly advances with compelling necessity contradict -the actual state of things as they are found in history, which shows so -much stagnation and retrogression, and so many different spheres of -culture existing side by side indifferent to one another, but the -transformation of life into a mere process, if consistently carried out, -must also destroy or seriously debase its spiritual character. If life -were a mere process it would be nothing other than a soulless -mechanism; only in the case of such a mechanism can one phase proceed -immediately from the others without at the same time a whole of life -becoming active and exercising an animating power within the whole -process. As a fact, the process is usually supplemented in thought by a -universal life unifying, sustaining, and controlling the individual -phases; however, so far as such a life does not simply come to us, but -needs our own activity, the deed comes before the process; and a new -world reveals itself to us. The disregard of the ethical element by the -systems which make mere process their fundamental idea is explained by -the fact that they understand the ethical only as a decision and turning -of man, accompanying the spiritual life, not as the motive and -progressive power of the spiritual life itself. They know only a human -ethic, not an ethic of the spiritual life--as a self-assertion and a -self-elevation, through which it first attains its complete freedom and -independence. Still, to trace this further is the less necessary since -this mode of thought lives rather from earlier achievements than works -from fresh impulse springing up in the present. - -The relation of Activism to the æsthetic mode of thought requires closer -consideration; we indicated at the beginning of our investigation that -Æstheticism forms one of the chief streams of the life of the present -day; at this point, only its relation to Activism need be examined. This -Æstheticism has its definite conditions. Where the contemplation and -enjoyment of the world and its beauty are to constitute the essence of -life, we must be assured that the world is a kingdom of reason and -beauty, so that the condition in which it is incites us to no -far-reaching change. Further, there must be no perplexities in our soul, -and no deep conflicts within our being, so that this contemplation may -occupy us completely, and be a source of happiness. Lastly, we must be -closely and surely united with the world so that a change of life may be -accomplished easily and smoothly. If one of these requirements is not -satisfied; if, instead of this harmony, the world manifests severe -conflicts and harsh contradictions; if such exist also within our soul; -if, lastly, there appears to be a deep gulf between us and the whole, -then the æsthetic solution of the problem of life is an impossibility. -If in spite of these contradictions we attempt to entertain this -solution, our life will become insincere, and will lose all spiritual -productivity, and, as a whole, our life will be spent in subjective -mood, empty enjoyment, and become feeble. Now, however, the Modern Age -develops in a direction which is directly opposed to the requirements of -the æsthetic form of life. The great world appears to us to be a -meaningless machine; and in the struggle for existence the earlier -harmony is forgotten. We perceive in man far too much that is -insignificant and far too much selfishness, emptiness, and mere show for -us to be able to regard him as being inwardly complete. Lastly, the -modern strengthening of the subject and the ceaseless growth of -reflection have so fundamentally overthrown the immediate relation of -man to the world that only a far-reaching transformation of life can -prepare for a reunion. If our life is so full of problems and tasks; if -we do not find ourselves in a completed world of reason; but if we must, -with all our powers, work toward such a world, we shall turn to Activism -as the only help possible. But we shall resolutely reject Æstheticism as -a veiling of the real condition of things and a too facile solution of -the great problems of life. - -Activism does not imply that immediately and at one stroke our life may -be transformed into spiritual activity and may quickly establish a -positive relation to reality: that would be to fail to recognise the -conditions under which man exists, and the necessity of undergoing -experiences and changes. Such an attitude might easily lead to the -formation of syntheses of life that would be much too hasty and far too -narrow; and the necessary breaking up of these would arouse a keen -distrust of the whole undertaking. The power which the Romantic movement -from time to time wins over minds is based on the fact that it warns us -against an over-estimation of our activity; that it demands that the -soul should be open to the influences of the world; that its -impressions should be appropriated without restriction and permitted to -fade away completely; that in opposition to all the limitation and -organisation of life, it still longs for the infinite; and that it also -to some extent satisfies by turning to unrestrained feeling. At the same -time, the Romantic movement makes us clearly conscious of the power of -destiny, the transcendence of external and internal necessities above -all human intention and utilitarian conduct. In this way life acquires a -much greater comprehensiveness and freshness; it seems to return to its -source, to retain far more immediacy. But it is one thing to acknowledge -the importance of this, another to make it the essence of life. When -such precedence is given to this Romantic tendency life threatens to -become delicate, feeble, effeminate; it knows no energetic opposition to -the flow of presentations; instead of a definite union it offers -aphoristic thoughts and stimuli; through the lack of logical acuteness -it falls into the direst contradictions; it sacrifices all distinct form -and organisation to a revelling in vague moods. As in such a state of -weakness the spiritual life does not succeed in gaining complete -independence in face of the natural conditions of our existence, so it -does not attain the necessary ascendancy over sense. Sense, in its own -province entirely incontestable, raises doubts in us in that it flows -together with the spiritual, is undifferentiated from it, brings it -under itself, and turns it from its course. And, in this, sense does not -possess the naïve freshness and the natural limitation of its original -state, but it is over-refined and too full of excitement. - -To recognise all this clearly is at the same time to acknowledge the -superiority of Activism over all mere Romanticism. However much may -still be lacking in Activism, through the fact that man often regards -the difficult and complicated task as easy and simple, and thus sets too -low an estimate upon the distance between himself and the spiritual -world, there is still the objective necessity of the requirement to -transform our life as far as possible into a state of independence, to -achieve independence in opposition to a world confused and only half -rational. Such a self-determining activity is by no means simply a -matter of subjective disposition; it requires a particular form of life. -In opposition to the desultoriness and change of the life of sense it -needs a powerful unification and organisation. It advances to methods -and laws of the object in contrast to playful caprice; to a logic of the -object in opposition to a persistence in contradiction; to a further -construction of the first impression in contrast to comfortable -complacency; to a courageous continuation and building up of life in -opposition to a complacent acceptance of destiny. It gives to life a -dramatic character in contrast to a lyrical, sentimental one, and along -with this it can acknowledge fully that a genuine drama usually contains -much that is lyrical. - -It is detrimental to Activism itself if it takes the problem of life -lightly. It is vital that it should not forget or underestimate the fact -that the effort to solve the problems of life meets with great -difficulties, that the solution costs incalculable trouble and work, and -that even when the best is achieved it is only approximate. When -Activism recognises this fact it may acknowledge a certain validity in -the positions of its opponents and may learn from them. But there is a -harsh contradiction that extends to the innermost basis of life, an -implacable "either--or," whether man simply receives the world and -accompanies it with his own mood, or whether he finds courage and power -to take up a conflict against confusion and irrationality, to co-operate -in the building up of a kingdom of reason. For the latter, the -affirmation of reason in the innermost basis of reality as a whole and -of his own being is necessary. Whether men and times find a way to such -an inner establishment, to such transcendence of all external and -internal limitation, is that which decides the main tendency of their -life. - - - - -III. THE SPIRITUAL LIFE IN MAN IN CONFLICT AND IN VICTORY - - -We intend to make the following section as short as possible, as we have -treated this subject so much in detail in "The Truth of Religion" and -also in "The Struggle for a Concrete Spiritual Experience." We must -refer those who wish for a closer consideration of the subject to those -works: the subject will be treated of here only so far as is necessary -for a representation of life as a whole; a concise statement may have -distinct advantages. - - -(a) DOUBT AND PROSTRATION - -It is a leading idea of our whole investigation, and one which has held -good in every branch of it, that for us men spiritual life is evolved -only in opposition to a world other than spiritual; that reality does -not surround us from the beginning, but forms a high ideal in contrast -to the customary want of purpose and energy in life. The existence of a -world lower than the spiritual, and the late appearance of that which -arises from within as the primary and the all-dominant reality, must -give birth to many questions and much doubt; from early times these -facts have occupied and much disturbed reflective thought. Man might -place the problem on one side without incurring any risk, if the -spiritual life when it comes to the fore assumes the guidance of life -and manifests itself as world-transcendent power--externally, in that it -subordinates to itself and takes up into itself everything else; -internally, in that with certain progress it presses forward in the -human province, wins the whole soul of man, and becomes more and more -his only world. In particular, where the spiritual life is regarded, as -we regard it, as the self-consciousness of reality; where, therefore, -that which apparently stands in opposition to the spiritual life must -ultimately have its basis within it, the demands of the spiritual life -have a coercive power. And so when experiences a thousandfold, new and -old, present a picture which contradicts these demands we must feel the -state of things to be a particularly painful one. - -That, however, is what really happens: it is the case in the relation of -the spiritual life to nature, as well as in its relation to humanity; it -happens, therefore, in our whole experience. If the spiritual life -constitutes the fundamental nature of reality; if, in it, reality first -attains to self-consciousness, it is to be expected that when the -spiritual life appeared it would create for itself an independent form -of existence in contrast to that of nature, and would exercise a -superior power in this form of existence, to which nature must -accommodate itself. But, as a fact, this is so far from being the case -that even the attempt to imagine the spiritual in any way leads -immediately to the quixotic. In the experience of humanity the spiritual -life is related in its entirety to a natural basis; in no way does it -seem able to free itself from this, but in all its activity it remains -dependent upon nature. If nature simply follows its own tendencies; if, -indifferent to value and lack of value, without aim and ideal, nature -lives its life of soulless movement, union with an order so alien and -impenetrable must most seriously affect the spiritual life. The world -goes on its course unconcerned with the weal or the woe, the persistence -or the disappearance of spiritual being, of spiritual relations, indeed -of spiritual life in general. Not only do great catastrophes, as in -earthquakes, storms, and floods, show how indifferent the existence or -the non-existence of spiritual life is to the forces of nature, but the -commonplaces of everyday experience and of individual destiny also show -the same indifference. In nature we find no difference of treatment in -accordance with any distinction of good and evil, great and mean, noble -and vulgar. Even the most eminent personality, who may be almost -indispensable to our spiritual welfare, is subject to the same -contingency, the same fate as all others. Regarded from the point of -view of the world of sense, all spiritual life is a chaotic confusion of -fleeting appearances, all of which are dependent; it is not an -independent world, but a subsidiary addition to a world which is other -than spiritual. - -Experience of the impotence of the spiritual life in relation to nature -has been the cause of mental disquiet from early times. But this -experience was not necessarily oppressive so long as mankind was called -upon to transform nature into a realm of reason, and so long as there -was hope of accomplishing this. For the contrast with the cold and rigid -external world has deepened the inwardness of human relationship and -made us conscious of the dignity and greatness of spiritual creation. In -culture, humanity has formed a characteristic sphere of life, and in -doing this has aided the spiritual life to attain a certain reality. In -culture, spiritual factors and values win power; and a new order of life -in contrast to that of nature is evolved. It cannot be doubted that a -new reality makes its appearance; but it is an open question whether -this new reality fulfils the hopes which have been placed upon it; and, -further, whether perplexities and confusions, which make it doubtful -whether anything has been gained, do not arise out of its further -development. This question is certainly not answered lightly in the -affirmative by the conviction that regards the spiritual life as a -turning of reality towards its own truth, which therefore in its -development must insist primarily on complete spontaneity and -independence. For, if in culture the spiritual life attains an -independence over against nature, it is at the same time drawn so deeply -into the particularity and limitation of human life, and is associated -so much with the merely human, that culture as a whole is anything but -the unfolding of a realm of pure, or even of only preponderating, -spirituality. - -In the first place, the spiritual life does not introduce a definite and -fixed content into our experience, and it does not follow paths -independent of human striving and error; but arises through hard toil -and only slowly finds any unity: in its further endeavour it by no means -follows the same tendency, but effects great changes, indeed -revolutions, into states the exact opposite of its previous states. When -it is so uncertain as to its own aim the spiritual life becomes -seriously involved in the seeking and vacillation, in the needs and -passions, of man: instead of giving to man an immovable support and -pointing out a definite aim for his activity, it seems itself unable to -pass beyond a state of uncertain groping and error. - -Corresponding to this uncertainty as to its content, there is a want of -power on the part of the spiritual life within man. Instead of -controlling the conduct of man directly, the spiritual life generally -determines it through that which it contributes towards the attainment -of his aims. If this is so in the case of the individual, it is even -more so in the case of social life, for in it spiritual activity is -regarded chiefly as a means to obtain advantages over others, and to -advance socially. And so that of which it is the nature to be an end -complete in itself is treated as a means to other ends; it is not itself -active, and its own power is not a motive force; but even for its own -maintenance it needs the help and support of things alien to itself: the -artificial mechanism of social organisation must bring forth toilsomely -that which, unless it flows immediately from its source, cannot be fresh -or genuine. Such a state of human affairs remains far below the aims of -the spiritual life; it produces insincerity, a luxuriant growth of -hypocrisy and pretence. For all striving for the true and the good -involves the assertion that the object is desired for its own sake: if -the object really serves the aims of mere man, there inevitably -originates a wide divergence between what is willed and what is alleged -to be willed. In respect of this, one cannot, with the moralists, lay -the blame simply on the will. For, in man, spiritual impulse in general -is insignificant; without the compulsion of the social environment it -would hardly prevail at all against nature. This social compulsion, -therefore, notwithstanding its defects, cannot be dispensed with; -however clearly we may see its inadequacy, we cannot renounce it -altogether. Society cannot exert such coercive power without presenting -itself as the champion of pure reason; without desiring an infallibility -for its decisions. This attitude naturally arouses the opposition of -individuals and a keen struggle ensues, but as one side may be right the -condition of the spiritual life is not much improved by the struggle. - -The state of life, uncertain of its aims and inadequate in its means, is -rather a paltry substitute for a realm of reason than such a realm -itself. A noisy and self-conscious agitation, much unrest and -excitement, but little substance and soul; a ceaseless anxiety -concerning the means of life and hurried pursuit of them, and in the -occupation with the means forgetfulness and neglect of life itself; much -self-glorification and ostentation, and little reverence for the -spiritual life--such is social life in general. Where the vanity, -emptiness, and falsehood of the social machinery have come to be clearly -perceived, man has become absolutely wearied and satiated, and has often -fled from society to nature, to seek therein simple truth and enduring -peace. But he could believe it possible to find such in nature only -because he read this truth and peace into it from himself; as, -nevertheless, he must ultimately return to those of the same nature as -himself: thus he remains in a state of vacillation between nature, which -is indifferent to the spiritual life, and humanity, which corrupts the -spiritual life by drawing it down to the level of the narrowly human. If -the spiritual life nowhere attains to pure unfolding and certain effect -within our experience, how can the spiritual life be accepted by us in -this experience as the essence of reality? In the midst of such doubt, -the original suspicions, which may have receded before the hope of the -emergence of a new world, also become felt again--the insignificance of -the external manifestation of the spiritual life in contrast with the -immeasurableness of nature; the late appearance of the spiritual life in -the world-process, and its probable disappearance as a result of the -expected changes in the conditions of nature. Does not everything tend -to give us the impression that the spiritual life signifies no more than -an episode in the world-process; an episode which passes fleetingly, and -does not affect the fundamental nature of reality at all? The necessity -of such a conclusion remains concealed so long as man, in an undeveloped -state of life, is able to fill the world with forms similar to himself, -and to understand the control of nature on an analogy with human -conduct. But the progress of culture and especially the growth of -scientific knowledge have, with irresistible power, taken us beyond that -state; have led us from dream and illusion to a state of complete -alertness. Has not all independence of the spiritual life become -doubtful with this progress of culture and scientific knowledge, and -must we not give up all claim to subject our existence to its -sovereignty, and to determine our life and effort spiritually? For there -cannot be any doubt that, with the spiritual life, the characteristic -organisation of our existence also falls. It may be that we have thought -superficially and confusedly enough to declare something to be in itself -falsehood and deceit, and at the same time to give to it the guidance of -our life. - - -(b) CONSIDERATION AND DEMAND - -The previous train of thought may appear to be a plain and -straightforward negation, a complete renunciation of the spiritual life -as the most adequate solution of our problem. But that train of thought -is itself the result of a superficial treatment; every deeper -consideration inevitably contradicts such a summary procedure. A -contradiction of that train of thought is found especially in the fact -which governs the whole course of our investigation, that with the -transition to the spiritual life there appear essentially new magnitudes -and values, new forms and contents of life, which advance beyond not -only the nature but also the capacity of mere man. Whence all these, if -spiritual life is only delusion? The new in us may be never so -powerless; still, the fact that it emerges in our world of thought and -hovers before us as a possibility proves that it has a certain reality -also within us. - -Further, is the spiritual life, ultimately, in every sense so powerless -as it at first appears? That it does not pass by as a phantom among our -presentations is shown by the fact that we do not simply receive the -existing condition of things, and its degrading oppression of the -spiritual life, but we feel it to be a cause of harm and of pain to us. -Could we experience this if we belonged entirely to that condition of -things; and is not Hegel right when he says that he who feels a -limitation is already in some way above it? We feel the insufficiency, -the feebleness, the threadbareness of all human morality; could we feel -this if we did not experience a longing for a more genuine morality? And -whence arises this longing in opposition to an entirely different world, -if not from a spirituality implanted within our own being? We perceive -the limitations in our knowledge; a growing insight into all its -conditions and oppositions may lead us in this matter almost to complete -scepticism: but whence came the desire for an inner elucidation of -reality; and how did even the idea of it originate, if we belong -entirely to the darkness of a nature that is less than spiritual, and if -there is no fight at all within us? We feel that the rapid flow of time, -its change and course, its sudden revolutions sometimes even into the -complete opposite of the previous state, is a defect, a source of -serious danger to truth: could we feel this to be so if our whole being -were centred in the passing moment; if we did not survey and compare the -different times; if our being did not participate in something -super-temporal? And lastly, if the feeling that culture is inadequate -and indeed nothing but a pretence is so strong and so painful, then here -again we set ourselves in a position independent of the condition of -things, and judge that condition by a transcendent standard which only -our own being can supply. If all these aims were only invented by man -and applied to life in an external manner, failure to realise them could -not agitate us as it does. - -Besides, the matter is not by any means at an end with the feeling of -the inadequacy of our position; a movement in opposition to this -condition is also not lacking. For, as has been seen throughout our -whole treatment, spiritual operation, creative activity is to be found -within human experience. It meets us with especial clearness at the -heights of the work of history; but these also belong to humanity as a -whole, and the light kindled there is not entirely lost in the mist of -the commonplace circumstances of every day. In relation with these -heights of endeavour there is, in humanity as a whole, a movement in -opposition to the tendency of mediocre culture to fill life entirely; a -longing for a more spontaneous, a purer, and a more genuine life. Our -own power of creation may be dormant; only the advent of a strong -suggestion, or a serious convulsion, is necessary and it breaks forth -forcefully, and shows distinctly that there is more spirituality in man -than the circumstances of every day allow us to perceive. The spiritual -movement manifests itself also in private life and in the relation of -individual to individual. He who does not measure spiritual greatness by -physical standards will often find more genuine greatness in the -simplicity of these relations than in the famous deeds of history; and -at the same time he will find that through these relations an effective -presence of the spiritual life within human experience is strengthened. - -If in its opposition to human perversion of it genuine spiritual life -does not always reach a definite positive result, the operation of that -life as the law and the judge of human things is all the more distinct. -Man may try to withdraw himself from the spiritual life; he may reject -and mock at that which the age presents to him as an aim; he may seek to -fill his life completely with human interests and inclinations: but he -cannot do this without degenerating into a state of destitution, which -even he himself soon finds to be intolerable, and without being forced, -with the compulsion of necessity, to surrender much which it is -impossible for him to surrender. The catastrophes of history in which -that which has been found insignificant sinks, and that which carries a -spiritual necessity within it rises, careless, as it seems, of the weal -or the woe of man, show in letters of brass that the spiritual life may -not be modified by man at his pleasure, in this way or that, in -accordance with his circumstances and his mood. - -When we consider all the facts together, we do not get the impression -that the spiritual life is simply a fleeting illusion that may easily be -banished; but rather, that there are serious complications, out of which -we cannot find our way; and that something occurs within us, something -is begun within us, that is unaffected by mood and caprice, and that -shows us to be in relations much more comprehensive, though obscure in -the highest degree. In particular, for a treatment that starts out from -the life-process, and sees the spiritual movement chiefly in strivings, -collisions, and even in failures, there can be no doubt concerning the -actuality of this movement, the emergence of a new life, and thus of a -new stage of reality in man. - -When we recognise the actuality of the spiritual movement the relation -of the spiritual life to nature and to the world is also to be regarded -differently from the manner in which the negative mode of thought -represents it. It is now impossible, as it often happens, more -particularly among philosophising natural scientists, to consider the -representation of nature as a complete representation of reality, and to -leave the spiritual life out of attention as something supplementary and -subsidiary. The spiritual life is now itself acknowledged to be a -reality, and must help to determine the representation of reality as a -whole. Nature must be more than a soulless machine if its evolution is -to lead, as it does, to the point where a self-conscious life emerges. -Within our own experience points of transition are not lacking where -nature produces something that becomes elevated to the spiritual, and -furthers the spiritual life. The difference of the sexes, for example, -is primarily a matter of natural organisation, and what a rich source of -spiritual animation it is! Nothing manifests the union between nature -and the spiritual life more convincingly than the beautiful, when, in -accordance with the result of our investigation, it is regarded as a -characteristic unfolding of the spiritual life, and not as something -which merely fascinates man and is a source of pleasure to him. For how -could the external receive a characteristic soul by being taken up into -the inner life; how could the inward need an external form for its -perfection if the two realms were not united, if a comprehensive reality -did not transcend the antithesis? - -Lastly, it should not be forgotten that it is modern science, especially -in its latest phases, with its destruction of the supposed self-evidence -of the sense impression of nature, that has placed the relation of -nature to the spiritual life in a more favourable light than it was -placed by the dogmatic mechanistic theory, which in earlier times seemed -to be the ultimate solution of the problem of their relation. Nature has -again become far more of a problem to us, and we recognise that our -conception of it is a work of the spirit. The old facts of the -connection and interaction of phenomena, of the conformity to law on the -part of occurrences, of the developments of form, and of a progress to -even more artistic complexes and ever finer organisation, once more make -us feel, and far more keenly than before, that they involve difficult -problems. It is more clearly evident to us than it was formerly that -every attempt to make these facts intelligible is made by the spiritual -life and by analogy with the spiritual life. If in such analogy we do -not go beyond symbols, yet the symbols themselves betray a depth and a -secret of reality. At the present time when scientific work is at its -highest stage of development, the shallowness and the rashness of a -radical negation are distinctly recognised. - -It is true that for the particular life-problem that we are considering -we have not yet gained much from this recognition; to perceive the -impossibility of an absolute negation does not in itself imply the -victory of a joyful affirmation. For all the perplexities that -previously occupied us still remain, as do the limitation and the -curtailment of the spiritual life which proceeded from these -perplexities; the whole movement also remains in its state of -stagnation. As certainly as on the one hand there is too much of the -spiritual life presented to us to allow of negation, so on the other it -is by no means sufficient for the removal of all doubt. - -Mere research can tolerate a state of hesitation between affirmation and -negation; it must often refrain from a decision in the case of special -problems. Life, however, cannot endure any such intermediary position; -for life, such hesitation in arriving at a decision must result in -complete stagnation, and this would help the negation to victory. If -life is faced with an "either--or" the affirmation has a prospect of -victory only if the situation previously described may be in some way -transformed in its favour. This cannot come to pass unless the spiritual -movement can transcend the limitations which appear in human life, and -unless a further development can proceed out of the limitations -themselves. Only such an advance can help the endangered affirmation to -victory. But whether the spiritual movement does transcend these -limitations, not a logical consideration of concepts but only the -experience of life will decide; let us enquire therefore whether life -offers what we seek. - - -(c) THE VICTORY - -The questions that are given rise to in the consideration of human life -as it is are answered in the affirmative with joyful certainty by the -religions. The religions do this in that they announce to man the help -of a transcendent order; an appearance of divine power and goodness in -the domain of man. But after the far-reaching changes of life and of -conviction that we have experienced, can this confidence still be -justified? And have we a place for this assertion of help from a -transcendent order when we acknowledge the reality of the independent -spiritual life? - -Everything of a religious character and even that which is related to it -meets, at least upon the surface, in the present the keenest opposition. -This opposition is aroused in the first place by anthropomorphism--the -indulgence in merely human representations and desires--which is often -found associated with religion. If the essence of religion were -inseparable from such anthropomorphism, the dissolution and submergence -of religion could hardly be prevented. But according to the witness of -history, an energetic conflict against all such mere anthropomorphism -has been carried on within religion itself and, in its highest stages of -development, religion has demanded a complete surrender of everything -narrowly human: anthropomorphism and religion are, therefore, not -absolutely identical. Our investigation, emphasising as it does the -radical distinction between the substance of the spiritual life and its -appropriation by man, counselled us to be cautious in reference to this -matter, and warned us against a hasty rejection of religion. - -The essence of religion is still less affected by the charge that modern -natural science in conceiving of the spatial world as infinite leaves no -room for a visible heaven. For, to take such a criticism seriously, we -must not only think of religion as at a primitive stage which, in the -development of its spiritual content, it has overstepped, but we must -also completely ignore the fundamental revolution that modern philosophy -and the whole tendency of modern thought have accomplished in the -representation of the visible world. Modern thought has destroyed the -self-evidence that the naïve man attributed to that representation, by -the experience and the proof that the visible world around us does not -come to us completely as we represent it, but that we form the -representation from our point of view, and under the conditions of our -spiritual nature. Our own activity is embodied in the representation; -and it will depend upon the value of this activity how far the -representation may be accepted as reality as a whole and the ultimate -and absolute world. Now, as in the visible world the spiritual life is -always bound up with something alien and which cannot be completely -transformed by the activity of that life, so every assertion of an -independent spiritual life is a protest against the view that the world -of sense is the only world. But in that, unless the spiritual life is -independent, there is neither science nor culture, the priority of a -world other than that of sense cannot be in any way a matter of doubt to -philosophy. - -But a world other than the world of sense is by no means the -transcendent world of religion; such a world as the latter could be -reached only by a continuation of the life-process beyond the position -yet attained; the course of our investigation, however, has left no -uncertainty concerning the direction in which such a world is to be -sought. We saw that the spiritual life could not acquire an independence -without becoming a universal life: only the immediate presence of this -universal life at the individual point arouses and preserves a spiritual -life in it. In spite of this immediate presence of the whole, the life -of man receives its more detailed organisation and development from his -relation to the environment and in the building up of a world; the unity -that exists in the whole reveals itself at first only in relation to the -multiplicity. There is, therefore, still the possibility that a new and -characteristic life should evolve out of an exclusive relation to the -whole; such a life, in contrast to that building up of a world, would -bear a world-transcendent character. This possibility constitutes the -only way of advancing beyond the position hitherto reached. - -Now, however much work in the world forms the main part of our life and -asserts itself to be such, yet, as a fact, our life is not taken up -entirely by such work. In the striving of humanity and in the soul of -the individual there is a movement towards a world-transcendent life, a -life that first attains to a complete inwardness when it becomes -world-transcendent. Only such an inwardness offers a firm support, a -spirituality unperverted by the perplexities of the world; but this is -not possible otherwise than by man's gaining participation in a -world-transcendent spiritual life which is purely and absolutely -self-conscious: this life must become man's own life, and spirituality -in this way self-consciously advance towards divinity. This makes it for -the first time intelligible how life, even when it suffers complete -failure in its work in the world, even when the activity exerted upon -the world is completely frustrated, by no means degenerates into a state -of destitution and ruin. For a new task is now revealed to man in his -own attitude to the spiritual life as a whole, a relation which may in -different cases be very different in character, and he may find in the -solution of the task incalculable difficulties. Here activity also -changes its character, since without any external manifestation it can -become complete and purely inward: character can free itself of -everything passive and become fully active; from being a mere -accompaniment it can become an active whole. All this, however, is -possible only if life is directed toward a world-transcendent -spirituality and only by the power of such a spirituality. - -As this new kind of life does not make its appearance suddenly, but is -prepared by the whole evolution of spiritual life, which we have -previously considered, so its main individual tendencies are also -related to this evolution. Essential qualities of the spiritual life are -manifested in work in the world, but in this they do not come to pure -formation and victorious establishment: only the elevation to the -world-transcendent self-consciousness makes possible that with which the -spiritual life as a whole cannot well dispense, indeed in which it has -its essential nature. The striving itself, and its arousing and motive -power, could not be explained if the end were not operative within our -life: "Thou wouldst not seek me, if thou hadst not already found me" -(Pascal). - -The spiritual life in man could have no hope of acquiring truth if it -were not rooted in a life which transcends all error and which in some -way imparts to us this transcendence. If the spiritual life in man did -not know of certain truth sustained at one innermost point, a truth that -exerts a directing power on all human undertaking, and prevents it from -becoming fixed in error, man would lose all confidence in truth in face -of the obscurities and errors of life as they are shown by the work of -culture. Further, for the maintenance of the spiritual life, the -preservation of spontaneity, a possibility of overcoming all restriction -by nature and of defying destiny is absolutely necessary. But in work in -the world this spontaneity is subject to the most severe limitations; -the power of fate surrounds man on all sides: in the natural course of -things even his own work becomes a rigid destiny to him, and chains him -with inexorable necessity. As in the case of the individual, so also in -that of humanity as a whole, life is a gradual narrowing, an ever -further exclusion of original possibilities; and this tendency is -continually felt as an increasing oppression in its opposition to the -freedom of the will and an independent present. How may the spiritual -life be prevented from growing feeble and senile, if new pure beginnings -cannot be produced from a fundamental relation transcending the relation -with the world, if from this fundamental relation a spontaneous life -cannot spring up ever anew? The fact that humanity is able not only to -transform the nature of culture in its particular aspects, but also to -fall into error concerning culture as a whole, without surrendering -itself, is an indication that the life of humanity is not exhausted in -work in the world. The spiritual life must unite in an inner community -all who participate in it; and this is impossible unless the spiritual -life leads man to a point where all walls of partition and all -differences fall away. But spiritual work increases rather than -diminishes these differences; with culture the differentiation of men -also grows. We must sink ever deeper in such differentiation; lose more -and more the possibility of a mutual understanding, of a life and -feeling with one another and for one another, if this movement toward -differentiation does not come into contact with a transcendent power -that counteracts it, if some power does not unite us inwardly. What -other power could this be than the spiritual life itself, and how could -it effect this result otherwise than in the revelation of a -world-transcendent self-conscious life which thus presents itself as an -Absolute? For, then a removal of differences in negative and in positive -matters becomes possible: in negative matters so far as all achievements -in the human sphere, however distant they may be from one another, -appear equally inadequate when they are judged by the standard of an -absolute life: in positive matters so far as the absolute life produces -something at each point transcending all complexity, by which the -movement is freed from its restrictions and resumes its flow, and by the -imparting of which to man in the innermost depth of his being, reveals a -new life in which all may in like manner participate. The possibility of -a finally valid affirmation of life is first attained when this -world-transcendent self-conscious life is acknowledged. Without turning -to the absolute life, life could not withdraw from its perplexities; -suffering and guilt would crush man. With this turning, however, he -acquires, not in his merely human nature, but so far as he is taken up -into the absolute life, part in the perfection, infinity, and eternity -of that life: in the midst of all change and becoming something -immovable is disclosed to him; in the midst of all dependence upon the -world, a sure world-transcendence; in the midst of all darkness and -suffering, a state of incalculable bliss. From the ultimate depths the -Yes triumphs over the No, which, at the first glance, seems so easily -its superior. - -This transition derives a power to convince primarily from the union of -the individual tendencies so as to form a vital whole of -world-transcendent inwardness. Such a whole, thoroughly characteristic -in its nature, is never a work of mere man, a product of critical -reflection; it can proceed only from the spiritual life itself. Looked -at from the point of view of that life this whole cannot be regarded as -something later and as something supplementary; but it will be seen that -that which for us first attains complete clearness through suffering and -convulsion must be effective from the beginning, and already exist in -the work upon the world. If, however, it becomes our possession only -when it takes precedence, then the whole prospect of reality must be -altered and deepened, and for us life will be divided into the stages of -the establishing, struggling, triumphing of spirituality. - -It is this fact of transcendent spirituality that the religions take up -and develop, and seek to bring near to humanity. The doctrines they -contain are ultimately only the framework or the outward manifestation -of that world-transcendent inwardness; they desire to realise its power -of deliverance and elevation completely. They themselves have their -support and justification in this transcendent spiritual life, and the -precedence of one to the others will be judged by the degree to which in -affirmation and negation they develop this spiritual life in its -world-transcending sovereignty and in its world-penetrating power. From -the point of view of that life, religion as a whole must maintain its -truth and its indispensable nature: where that life is lacking, religion -is simply a delusion, a folly the absurdity of which is hardly -conceivable; but where it is developed religion must pass current as -that which, of all things, is the most certain, as the fundamental axiom -of the whole spiritual life. Between this "either--or" there is no -middle course; historical experience shows that religion has been to -men and ages either the most certain of all things or the one about -which there has been most dispute. - -We can now return to the question that led us to this discussion, to the -question of the rationality of our reality. To be sure, even after the -further revelation of the spiritual life, the answer is not so easy as -the adherents of religion often think. For they often believe that with -the acknowledgment of a world-transcendent spirituality, its triumphant -manifestation within our world is immediately assured; and with this -conviction they attempt to present this world as a kingdom of justice, -even if not of love. But all endeavour, however energetic, and all -recourse to subtlety of thought, yield no satisfactory conclusion: at -most, the possibility is reached that that which seems irrational may -acquire some rationality in more comprehensive relations; but even if -that is so, we are not free from irrationality; and those mere -possibilities are far from being equal to counteracting the strong -impression of the reality of evil. Even religion, which would bring -about a transition to the better, is itself deeply involved in this -irrationality; a painful martyrdom has often been imposed upon its -heroes, and its form has continually degenerated in the course of -history through the influence of human error and passion. Since in the -latter the restriction is presented as an opposition to the divine, the -view of the world as it immediately appears is darkened rather than -illuminated. - -Nevertheless, through the revelation that the world has a deeper basis, -the perplexity concerning life and reality is essentially changed. Evil -is not removed; the external view of things is not altered; the good is -perhaps strengthened, and, indeed, life in its innermost depth withdrawn -from all power of perplexity and led to a new stage. So far, the -irrationality may appear in another light from this point of view, as -hence the conflicts and the convulsions may themselves be factors which -help life to realise its own ideal and to establish it in the new world. -In history, suffering has been regarded as absolutely irrational, and -has been unconditionally rejected only where man has been regarded as -essentially complete. But if an immense problem is recognised in -suffering, then suffering also, by rousing us to activity and by making -us less inflexible, may acquire a positive value and be of service in -the development of being. This, however, does not give us a theodicy; it -justifies neither philosophy nor religion in trying to act as advocate -for the Deity. To us evil is an insoluble riddle: no formula can make it -intelligible why a powerful and clear reason is implanted in our world -and that at the same time the lower most obstinately asserts itself in -opposition, treats it as a matter of indifference, offers an -insurmountable resistance to it. - -Thus we can hardly reach a decision in regard to our last conviction by -way of intellectual consideration; rather, in the decision concerning -the "either--or" which is the question here, our whole being is -involved. On the one side there is the external impression of the world, -the weakness of the good, its perversion into evil, the apparent -indifference of the world-process towards the aims of the spirit, the -apparent futility of all that would advance beyond nature. Can anything -that is aroused within our inner being, and with so much toil finds any -form, arise in opposition to this immeasurable world? This will be -possible only when a movement of the world itself, and not a mere -product of man, is recognised in that which is aroused within man: for -only then will its extension be a matter of complete indifference, and, -however mean an extension it shows in the human sphere, a turning of the -whole would be proved, a revolution of the whole accomplished. Then that -which for us emerges on the edge of our life must nevertheless be -regarded as the sustaining basis and the controlling power of reality as -a whole. Our whole investigation has championed the view that the -turning to the spiritual life implies a movement of the world: wherever -the independence of the spiritual life is acknowledged the supremacy of -reason cannot be doubted. - -But it is one thing to acknowledge such a thesis to be necessary, -another to give it the power to convince and impress, without which it -does not leave the realm of phantoms, and does not become a living -power. This is possible only where the spiritual life is taken up as our -own life, and developed as our own life; where, therefore, its -vindication attains to the overwhelming power and the axiomatic -certainty of self-preservation. The centre of reality will be changed -for us only if we change the centre of our own life, and find true -immediacy no longer in sense impression, but in self-determining -activity. - -The acknowledgment of a self-conscious inwardness, of a -world-transcendent spirituality, together with the recognition of -another kind of world, full of oppositions, must give a characteristic -form to our conception of our reality. Here, a rational solution of the -world-problem is for ever excluded, and the world present to man must be -accepted as a particular kind of reality, which cannot be regarded as -the only and ultimate one. From this point of view the whole life of -humanity must appear to be a mere link in a great chain; an act of a -drama, the course of which we are unable to survey; the fundamental idea -of which, however, glimmers through sufficiently clearly to point out a -direction to our life. - -Through the emergence of a world-transcendent inwardness there appear -characteristic tasks and complications, also for the more detailed -development of our life. Unqualified esteem for that inwardness has -often led religions to demand that life should be placed solely and -entirely in that transcendent sphere, in the realm of faith and of -disposition, and to free life as far as possible from the work of the -world; the former life seemed to excel the latter as the divine the -human. But this comparison does not hold good; for the divine is to us -not only a world-transcendent sovereignty but also a world-pervading -power: to honour the former preponderatingly may be the only salvation -for times and individuals in a state of prostration and collapse, and in -this way life would be given a preponderatingly religious character; but -this form of life can never be accepted as the normal one and the one -alone worth striving for. For one thing, that transcendent world, as far -as its contents and tasks are concerned, is presented to us only in -outline; all its more detailed nature must result from the world of our -activity, and must retain a symbolic character. If the connection of the -spiritual world with the empirical world is broken it falls into the -danger of becoming destitute; so that religion may come to be simply a -revelling in feeling; or a devotion, indifferent to all content and -which, therefore, judged by spiritual standards, is worthless. It is by -hard work alone, in relation to men and things, that our life acquires a -spiritual character. Religion does, indeed, elevate life above work, and -give to life its full depth. Still, movement and differentiation must be -included within a vital whole; and the relation to activity which is the -chief factor in life cannot be given up even at its greatest depth. The -high estimate of spirituality may not rightly lead to a mean estimate of -nature, to a conflict with nature such as has been the case in the realm -of religion in the tendency to asceticism. For as certainly as our -acknowledgment of an independent spirituality involves a subordination -of nature, this subordination does not imply a mean estimate, still less -a rejection. Asceticism which appears to be the attainment of a high -level of spiritual life soon leads to an inward degeneration. For in -asceticism the chief task is not the powerful development and courageous -advance of spirituality, but simply a negation and suppression of sense. -Reflection and thought will thus be centred upon just those things -beyond which the spiritual movement wishes to lead. Particular temporary -circumstances may make the tendency to asceticism comprehensible; such -times were over-refined and diseased, and the diseased may not rightly -give to life its rule. - -But if, in this way, we oppose a specifically religious or ascetic form -of life we are not prevented from acknowledging the strong and fruitful -influence of a world of transcendent inwardness upon life as a whole. -For its perfect health and breadth, our life needs two tendencies which, -though they directly contradict each other, must, nevertheless, within -us be complementary to each other: it needs an energetic conflict -against all that is irrational, and at the same time to be elevated into -a sphere in which everything is rational, into a realm of peace and -perfection. Within the spiritual life itself, tasks are given their form -and are estimated on the one hand from the human point of view, and on -the other from an ultimate, one might say an absolute, view of things. -The significance of this distinction is to be seen most clearly in -history, and, perhaps, in the contrast between the Greek and the -Christian character. The former places man in the midst of the world, -and requires him energetically to take up the struggle for the cause of -rationality and decisively to reject the irrational. Suffering and pain -were to be avoided; man was never to submit to them. Courage appeared to -be the chief quality of this form of life, and in relation to others -justice was its determining idea. But if this idea demands that each -should receive according to his achievement, then the higher and the -lower, the noble and the common, must be distinctly separated and never -allowed to be confused. That the noble form a small minority, and that -history hardly promises any change in this matter, is a fact that has -not escaped perception; and the permanence of the antithesis of an -esoteric and an exoteric form, therefore, appears to be inevitable. The -difference that exists is regarded as due primarily to nature, not to -free decision. To make nature completely active, and to unify that which -it offers in a scattered and an unsystematic manner, appears to be our -whole life-work. - -The result, therefore, is a powerful, active, self-conscious life, which -not only affects us by its results but to which we must assign a -permanent significance. But as the only and exclusive form of life, it -involves great restrictions and rigour; its limitations may remain -hidden in days of joyful creative activity and in the highest circles of -society, but they must be keenly felt if life falls into a condition of -stagnation, and man, as man, asks questions with regard to the -happiness of life. This destiny may then become an intolerable -compulsion; mere courage, an over-exertion of human power; mere justice, -severity and unmercifulness; the sharp distinction between men, an -actual separation, which tends on the one side to proud haughtiness and -on the other to doubt and depression. A keen perception of such -limitations and dangers must necessarily force life into new paths. - -The counter movement has won the victory in Christianity, which makes -not work in the world but the relation to a world-transcendent spiritual -life the chief thing. Man does not in the first place trust a nature -that safely leads him but at the same time limits him; but his nature -seems full of problems, and to need a complete transformation, which -only a miracle of grace can accomplish. Men are not regarded as being -separated by fixed differences, but in comparison with the divine -perfection all differences vanish, and from the relation to God the -feeling of equality and brotherhood is evolved. Thought of in relation -to the requirement of a pure inwardness of the whole being, differences -in achievement are totally insignificant: justice gives place to an -infinite love that dispels all harshness, makes all differences -consistent and harmonious, and tolerates no feeling of hostility. - -The antithesis of a nature which is operative within the world and which -elevates above the world must permeate life as a whole and must give -rise to opposite tendencies in every part of life. On the one hand, -there is a distinct formation in finite relations, an insistence upon -plastic organisation and complete consciousness of life; on the other, -an aspiration towards the infinite, a more submissive faith, a more -unrestrained disposition, a higher estimate of the naïve and the -childlike. In the former, man, full of confidence in his own power, -himself produces a rationality of reality, and disdains all aids alien -to himself; in the latter, life is sustained by a trust in an infinite -good and power which, in a way transcending the capacity of man, guides -to the attainment of the best; in short, as a whole and in its -individual aspects each is a fundamentally different type of life from -the other. - -The type of life advocated by Christianity has resulted in a great -deepening of life; it cannot possibly be given up again in favour of an -earlier type. But this Christian type also does not suffice for the -moulding of life as a whole. Most severe complications would ensue if -the position of Christianity were taken up as an ultimate conclusion and -an absolute evaluation in the conditions which at present exist, and its -principles without further consideration were applied to our life as a -whole. The annulling of all differences, even of spiritual capacity; the -displacement of justice through pity; the cessation of the conflict -against evil; the low estimate of man's own power, would all endanger -most severely the rational character of life; an adoption of this type -of life in its entirety would lead to the discontinuance of the work of -culture; in particular, it is inconsistent with any kind of political -organisation. Finite conditions are not to be judged by infinite -standards; and we men are, after all, in the finite and remain so. - -And so, from the earliest times since Christianity, from being merely -one of opposing systems, became the dominant power, compromises have -been sought. The system of the development of power and of justice has -nevertheless asserted its influence, and though Christianity has had an -external supremacy, this system has forced characteristically Christian -life to be regarded as a matter of mere subjective disposition and of -private life. But as such compromises do not fully and truly express -spiritual necessity, they easily lead to falsity. To rise above this -tendency to make such compromises, the acknowledgment of the right and -of the limits of each type, the acknowledgment of the necessity of both -within a comprehensive whole, is necessary. Such a whole and along with -it a common ground, upon which the movements meet together, and can -strive to understand one another, is given to us by the spiritual life, -acknowledged in its independence. It is not for us to force our life -into a finished scheme, but to develop fully and to acknowledge the -movements and oppositions which exist in our life. True, life will ever -remain unfinished, but can we wish to make it more complete than it can -be, and can the incompleteness cause us anxiety, when we are sure of its -main direction? - - - - -III - -APPLICATION TO THE PRESENT - -CONSEQUENCES AND REQUIREMENTS - -_Introductory Considerations_ - - -With a consideration of the present we set out: to the present we now -return. The convictions at which we have arrived, and which have led us -to a characteristic philosophy of life, must now be considered in -relation to the needs of the present; we must see whether this -philosophy proves to be true in this connection, and this by its own -development, as well as by the simplification of the condition of a -time, which, as it is immediately experienced, is confused in the -highest degree. - -But, at the outset of our treatment of this problem, we perceive how -difficult it is for the acknowledgment of an independent spirituality to -determine our relation to the temporal environment; we see how this -acknowledgment transforms that relation into a problem. The conception -of the "present" is by no means simple and certain, even as far as its -external boundary is concerned. The mere to-day is obviously too short a -period to constitute the present; but how much is to be added and where -must it cease in order that we may have a genuine present? True, the -present must involve a characteristic content that associates the -moments and unites them so as to produce a common effect; but does our -time give us such a content? The first glance at the state of life in -our time reveals a chaotic confusion, which includes the most diverse -endeavours, now in passionate union, now in complete indifference to one -another, and yet again in harsh hostility; further, there is a constant -displacement of the individual elements by a process of elevation and of -degradation. Even if something common and permanent is operative in the -present, its close amalgamation with this change and movement prevents -it from being purely developed: the truth contained in the present state -of life is inseparably mixed with human error and passion. - -And yet this is not an experience simply of the present, but one common -to all ages. For fundamental spiritual creation has always been effected -in the direst contradiction to the social environment. What harsh -judgments, and judgments that set its value at nil, have been passed -upon society with regard to its capacity not only in religion but also -in philosophy and art! How severe a conflict has been carried on in all -departments of life against the presumption of society! The present, -especially, is troubled by these problems, because, as has become -evident to us from the beginning of our investigation, it carries within -it movements of a diverse and contradictory nature, so that it can -hardly produce a consistent impression of the whole, still less attain -to a definite character. Human interests and parties seek with all their -energy to impress upon the time their own character; they call that -modern which is useful to and in harmony with themselves. The most -diverse tendencies cross one another; experiences in particular -departments of life determine the conception of the whole; the different -classes of society follow different courses in accordance with their -different interests; much that is accidental is regarded as vital and is -allowed to influence us: the extreme has the advantage of being able to -make an impression upon us; and the superficial and the negative creep -into favour through the easiness of the conclusion presented by them: in -short, in this state of the time, that which arises in human opinion is -incapable of offering to spiritual endeavour a secure support and an -orientation concerning its aims. - -This uncertainty cannot be removed by turning our attention to history, -by taking an interest in past ages. For, with whatever clearness a -highly developed science of history may present the whole course of the -ages to us, to believe that our own life is enriched and made more -stable by this, we must confuse knowledge and life, the mere present -representation of earlier times and the appropriation of them by our own -activity--a danger into which the purely academic mode of thought easily -falls. The power and the tendency of life in the present determine the -nature of our appropriation of the past and of its transformation in -self-determining activity. If this life stagnates, then we are helpless -in face of the stream of earlier systems of thought. Even if these -systems attract us to themselves, and carry us with them for a time, -finally they will manifest their antitheses and throw us back again upon -ourselves: we cannot escape from ourselves; we can never find a -substitute from outside for want of conviction and power of our own. It -is a fundamental error, not, indeed, of historical research but of a -feeble historical relativism, to expect us to form a conviction of our -own by concerning ourselves with the past; and to think that the later -stage in history proceeds from the earlier as a self-evident final -result. By taking such an attitude to the past we should only fall into -the half-will and half-life common to an age of decadence. If the -present is thus uncertain in the heart of its spiritual nature, and it -is not possible to escape from this uncertainty by resorting to the -past, it may appear to be essential that we should be completely -delivered from the tyranny of time, and that we should take up an -attitude of entire unconcern of its affirmation and its negation of -spiritual endeavour. - -But a rejection of the immediate relation to time by no means settles -the matter. If spiritual work were completely dissociated from the -temporal environment and the historical movement, it would be dependent -solely upon the capacity of the mere individual and upon the passing -moment; all relation, all community of work, would thus be given up, and -the performance of others could not be anything to us, nor our -achievement anything to others; there would be no inner building up of -life, and no hope of reaching greater depths. Not only is it impossible -to abandon such aims, but our experience of spiritual work itself -contradicts the disintegration of life into nothing but isolated -points. If all spiritual creation is effected in contradiction to time, -what is denied in this contradiction is rather that which lies upon the -surface of time than that which is deeper; rather human accommodation to -than the spiritual content of time. All who believe that distinctive -human history is sustained by the activity of a spiritual life will -attribute to time such a spiritual content. - -Every age, therefore, in virtue of the presence of this spiritual life, -will contain characteristic spiritual motives, movements, and demands, -and will be especially qualified to convey certain contents to man, to -open up certain experiences to him, and to point out certain directions. -All these must be appropriated by anyone who wishes to transcend the -original state of emptiness, and to advance to spiritual creation and to -a spiritual fashioning of life. In consequence of this a more friendly -attitude may be taken up towards time; and we shall be far more grateful -to it--though perhaps not with explicit consciousness, perhaps even in -contradiction to definite purpose--than we could ever be with regard to -the experiences on the surface of time. However low, for example, the -estimate Plato may have formed of "the many" around him; and though with -the whole passion of his soul he may have insisted upon a transformation -of the immediate condition of life, what he offered of his own and the -new that he required, with all its originality and uniqueness, -contradicts neither the natural spirit of the Greek nor the contemporary -Greek culture: Plato can be regarded only as a Greek of a particular -time. His conflict with the time is not the conflict of an incomparable -individuality with his environment, but a selection and a unification of -the possibilities existing in time; it is an arousing to life of the -deeper realities of time against its superficialities, of spiritual -necessities in opposition to the conduct and interests of men. In this -manner the great man also is a child of his age, and is unintelligible -out of relation to it. Could one think of Goethe as living in the Middle -Ages, or of Augustine as living in the age of the Enlightenment? -Indeed, we may carry our contention further, and say that the great has -been just that which has had the closest relation with the time; and -that it has reached a permanent significance, just because it expressed -the unique nature and the inner longing of the time, that which was -incomparable and inderivable in it. That which has been able to work -permanently beyond the time in which it made its appearance was born not -from a timeless consideration of things, but from the deepest feeling of -the needs of the time; only thus can we escape from the feeling of -unreality which otherwise accompanies the striving after spirituality. -This consideration must commend to spiritual work the closest possible -relation with the time, and the spiritual life may hope for an essential -advance of its own striving as a result of this relation. - -Still, the matter is not so simple as it is often thought to be. The -spiritual content of the ages is not a complete fact that permeates life -with a sure and definite effect, so that it could be taken up by -activity. Rather, that which is great and characteristic in the ages is -found only in creative spiritual activity, abstracted from which it is -no more than a possibility; a suggestion that is inevitably lost, if an -advancing spiritual activity is lacking. Spiritual creation is not a -mere copy, an employment of an existent time-character. Rather, time -first attains a spiritual character through spiritual activity, and by -spiritual creation possibility first becomes complete reality. This -spiritual creation is not simply a summation but a potentialisation, an -essential elevation of that which exists in time. Without this activity -the spiritual elements in time remain merely coexistent, and have no -living unity; they realise no life of the whole, no being within the -activity, nothing that means to us development of being. Temporal life -then remains only a half-life, a life of pretence; it lacks complete -self-consciousness and true stability and joy, and at the same time it -lacks a genuine present. To attain such a present thus appears to be a -difficult task, the performance of which is not so much presupposed by -the different branches of spiritual life as is an object of their work. -Art, for example, is rightly required to express the feeling of the life -of the time; yet it does not find such a feeling of life already -existent, but it must first wrest it from the chaos of the general -condition of life. Art is great in giving to the time that which it did -not already possess, but which is, nevertheless, necessary to the -complete reality of its life. Spiritual work, therefore, is not -something just added in time, but that which first gives to time a -genuine life and a genuine present. This task may be achieved with quite -different degrees of success; it is not all times that reach this -elevation and attain to a genuine present; those that do so we call -great and "classical" times. The general state of our life--which, -however, does not imply time as a whole--appears from this point of view -to be especially afflicted with the defect and fault of insincerity; our -age does not so much live a life of its own as a strange life; and yet -this life is represented as being a life of our own. And it is -especially so in our own time, when along with a state of division in -our own purposes we are inundated by systems of thought alien to us. We -are thus in danger of becoming half-hearted and living a life of -pretence: in religion we assert the profession of faith and the feelings -of times long gone by to be our own conviction and feelings; we build -our cathedrals in styles that correspond to another spiritual condition -and another tendency of life; in philosophy we hang upon systems and -problems of other times; in everything we lack sincerity. But why is -this so, and why do we renounce all claim to a life in accordance with -our own nature? Certainly not because our time lacks problems and tasks -of its own, or because it is deficient in spiritual possibilities and -necessities; for, of these there is an abundance; in this matter our -time is not behind any other. But there predominates a wrong relation -between these tasks and the central power of the spiritual life, which -is equal to cope with them and out of the possibilities create a -reality. - -In any case spiritual work has a great deal to do with the time; and in -regard to this it finds itself in no simple situation. Spiritual work -must acknowledge a given condition, which it cannot alter to suit its -own preferences; but it can make something else out of this condition -and also see something else in it than immediately meets the eye. The -possibilities of a time are revealed only in spiritual work, and through -it alone are they separated from the human additions that usually -overgrow them. These possibilities cannot become clearly evident, unless -a close relation to history is won: they are not suggestions simply of -the moment, for they have been prepared by the whole work of history. -History acquires quite a different--a far more positive--meaning when -the spiritual life is acknowledged to be independent, and when it is -admitted that spiritual life is not just the embellishment of a reality -other than spiritual, but the formation of the only genuine and -substantial reality, the transition to a self-consciousness of life. -For, as such a formation of reality, this creative activity extends -beyond the particular time in which it originates, and becomes part of a -time-transcending present. True, this activity always appears in a -garment that seems simply temporary; but this garment does not -constitute its being: the imperishable in it, its fundamental life, -remains inwardly near and present even after great changes of temporal -condition; and within the sphere of spiritual work is always capable of -new effect. - -Christianity, for example, in spite of the attacks that are and have -been made upon it, still asserts itself as a living power. Yet there -cannot be the slightest doubt that in everything that lies on the -surface of our life we are as far as possible removed from the centuries -of its formation; that not only the view of the world but also the tasks -of life and the nature of feeling and disposition have become radically -different. But life is not exhausted in these activities on the surface, -which must be regarded as external manifestations that proceed from an -inner unity. That which these centuries have performed for the essence -of life: the realisation of a freedom of spiritual inwardness, the -acknowledgment of an independent spiritual world with great aims and -tasks, may, indeed, become obscured for the consciousness of individuals -and of whole periods; it remains, however, an essential part, a -presupposition of all further spiritual life. - -As in this manner in the case of Christianity, spiritual reality has -also been evolved otherwise in some creative epochs; and in the movement -of history they have all together produced a certain condition of -spiritual evolution which constitutes the invisible basis of our own -activity, and from which it is first possible to elucidate the spiritual -nature of a particular time. This universal, historical state of -spiritual evolution indicates a level, to which must correspond all -work, which desires not simply to attain the aim of the moment but also -to serve in the building up of a spiritual reality within the domain of -humanity. This historical condition of the spiritual life is not -conferred upon us by history; rather history only mediates an incentive -that must first be transformed by our own activity and conviction. Only -a mode of thought which transcends the movement of history can recognise -a spiritual content in history and in our own time, and use this content -for our own striving. - -Spiritual work, therefore, and philosophy as part of it, has a twofold -relation to time, a negative and a positive: it must possess an -independence of time, and it must seek an intimate relation with it. The -"modern," according to the sense in which it is taken, will arouse us at -one time to energetic opposition, at another to the closest intimacy; -the former when it desires to subject us to the contemporary conditions -with all their contingency, the latter when it champions the spiritual -possibilities of the time and the state of spiritual evolution in -contrast with the human. We are concerned in a conflict for genuine -against false time; we are to distinguish clearly between the merely -human and the spiritual present; the spiritual life must first give a -genuine reality to time, and in doing this must advance in itself. - -Every particular philosophic conviction must justify itself in its -treatment of this problem; it must be in a position to wrest the truth -from the error in time; to understand and to estimate the endeavour of -the time without yielding to it; to comprehend as a whole the manifold -elements of truth in the life of the present, and to elucidate them from -a transcendent unity. Without doubt great problems and fruitful -possibilities exist in the time, but we often feel the most painful -contrast between their demands and the achievements of man. To diminish -this divergence; for the time to attain more to its own perfection and -become a genuine present, is an urgent task in the performance of which -philosophy also must co-operate; and by this endeavour philosophy can -also gain much for itself. - - - - -I. REQUIREMENTS FOR THE FORM OF LIFE AS A WHOLE - -(a) THE CHARACTER OF CULTURE - - -The term "culture" received its present meaning in the latter half of -the eighteenth century; culture itself reaches back to the beginning of -the Modern Age. The whole evolution of the Modern Age is a striving -beyond the religious form of life which prevailed in the Middle Ages, -and which began to be felt to be narrow and one-sided. In opposition to -this type of life a new type arose, increased in strength, and finally -we became fully conscious of it in the idea of culture. The new type has -been felt to be far superior to the old in many ways; it is not limited -to one side of human nature, but desires to take it, and to develop it -as a whole; it does not refer man to any kind of external aid, but makes -his life depend as much as possible upon his own power, and finds an aim -fully sufficient in the limitless extension of this power; it directs -man's perception and endeavour not so much beyond the world as to it, -and hopes by this means to give a stability to his striving, and a close -relation with the abundance of things. The movement has brought about a -far-reaching transformation of life: that which was lying dormant has -been aroused; the rigid made plastic; the manifold woven into a whole of -life; the whole range of life has acquired more spontaneous freshness -and inner movement. The result of the work of history now becomes for -the first time a complete possession, since above everything contingent -and accidental it elevates an essential, and above everything tending to -separation and hostility, a common humanity. - -The animating and ennobling influence of modern culture is nowhere more -manifest than in the life-work of Goethe. For we recognise the greatness -of his nature primarily in that, with the acutest vision and the -greatest freedom, he entered into the multiplicity of experience and -events; with placid yet powerful dominance stripped off all that was -mere semblance and pretence, all that was simply conventional and -partial, and fully realised the genuine, the freshness of life, and the -purely human. (_V._ "The Problem of Human Life.") His treatment of -Biblical narratives is a good example of this: that a king reigned in -Egypt who knew not Joseph suggests to him how quickly even the most -magnificent human achievements are forgotten; that Saul went forth to -find his father's she-asses, and found a kingdom, symbolises to him the -truth that we men often reach something totally different from, and also -much better than, that for which we strove and hoped; the miracle of the -walking on the water is to him a parable of unflinching faith--the -holding fast to apparent impossibilities--without which there can be no -great creation. - -If, with this achievement, modern culture may have the feeling of being -the fulfilment of the strivings of the ages, yet its own course has -produced oppositions, and engendered perplexities that culminate in a -dangerous crisis. Culture, as it was represented at the height of German -spiritual life, was directed chiefly towards the inner development of -man; it was called with especial satisfaction "spiritual culture." Its -adherents were concerned not so much with finding a better relation to -the environment as with growing in the realm of their own soul, and with -employing whatever the experience of life brought in the development of -a self-conscious personality, of pure inwardness. Only in this way did -they seem to advance from the previous state of limitation to the -complete breadth of existence, and the exercise of all their powers. A -joy in life, a firm confidence in the rationality of reality gave this -inner culture a soul; and a bold flight bore it far above the narrowness -and heaviness of daily life; æsthetic literary creation became the -chief sphere of its work, and the chief means for the development and -self-perfecting of personality. - -Inner culture has by no means vanished from our life; effects of many -kinds are felt from it in the present. But it has been forced to resign -its supremacy in favour of a realistic culture, which makes the relation -to the environment the chief matter, and removes the centre of life to -the intellectual and practical control of this environment. In realistic -culture the inner development of work, of work in the direction of -natural science and technical art, as well as in politics and social -endeavour, is less occupied with the acquiring of a powerful -individuality than with the establishment of an agreeable condition of -society as a whole. Since activity is related more and more closely with -things, and receives laws and directions from them, culture is freed -from dependence upon man and his subjectivity. Culture is an impersonal -power in contrast with man; it does not lead ultimately to a good to him -so much as make him simply a means and an instrument of its progressive -movement. An immeasurable structure of life, a ceaseless self-assertion -and self-advancement, an arousing and an exertion of all powers that can -bring man into relation with the environment, are manifest in this -culture: but at the same time there is an increasing transformation of -our life into a mere life of relation and mediation, a deprivation and a -vanishing of self-consciousness. In the midst of the magnificent -triumphs in external matters there is an increasingly perceptible -contrast between an astonishing development of the technical, and a -pitiful neglect of the personal side of life: in regard to the former we -surpass all other times, as much as we fall below most in regard to the -latter. Along with a ceaseless increase of technical capacity, there is -a rapid degeneration of personal life, a pauperising of the soul. Where -the matter is one of a technical nature there is a magnificent -condition, definite progress in all departments, work conscious of its -aim; but there is a painful groping and helpless hesitation, a -stagnation of production, an emptiness that is only just hidden by a -veneer of academic education, where powerful personalities and -impressive individualities are required. - -For a time we were carried away entirely by the tendency to place our -attention solely upon the environment, and we seemed to be satisfied -absolutely by it. But the inner life that has been evolved within human -experience by the work of thousands of years, and through severe -convulsions, prevents this condition being accepted as a conclusion; -that which has once become an independent centre cannot possibly permit -itself to be degraded to the position of a mere means and an instrument. -It is impossible to give up all claim to self-conscious and -self-determining life and a satisfaction of this life. Our spiritual -nature compels us to ask questions and to make claims; if they are not -satisfied, then, notwithstanding all the wealth of experiences, the -feeling of poverty spreads and we seek for aids, and, first, we turn -back to that inner culture from which we had turned away. But we find -the ways shut off; a direct return is impossible. This culture had -characteristic principles and presuppositions; and the course of modern -life itself has, if not overthrown them, involved them in serious doubt. -We have become clearly conscious of the limitations which this inner -culture had without itself feeling them; movements which it united have -now separated, and have become hostile. Inner culture rested on a firm -faith in the power of reason in reality, and this faith begot a joyful -confidence. For it the world was sustained and determined by inner -forces: we feel the rigid actuality of occurrences, the indifference of -the machinery of the world towards the aims of the spirit, and the -contradictions of existence. In the former case the greatness of man was -the predominant faith; and this greatness was sought in his freedom: we, -however, feel much more our bondage to obscure powers and at the same -time our insignificance. In the former again, it aroused no opposition -to call only a chosen part of humanity, the creative, to full and -complete life, and to assign a most meagre portion to the majority: we -cannot possibly renounce the concern for all mankind and for the -welfare of every individual. In the former, morality and art were -harmoniously united in the ideal of life; in our time they have -separated and are at deadly enmity with one another. Everywhere life has -given rise to more problems, more inconsistencies, more obscurities; -thus, with all its external proximity, the joyfully secure ideal of life -of our classical writers is inwardly removed far from us; without -insincerity we cannot proclaim it to be our profession of faith. In -particular the resort to Goethe, as to one with a secure standard of -life, is in general no more than an expression of perplexity, no more -than a flight from a clear decision of our own: the universality and the -flexibility of his spirit permit a point of contact with him to be found -by those whose views directly contradict those of one another, and -allows each to abstract, and make a profession of faith of that which is -preferable and pleasing to himself. - -Thus to-day we are in a state of uncertainty and indefiniteness in -reference to the problem of culture. Since the new does not suffice, and -the old cannot be taken up again, we are in doubt with regard to the -whole conception of culture; we know neither what we have of it nor what -it demands from us. We cannot give up our claim to being something more -than nature, without sinking again to the level of the mere animal; but -in what this "more" consists and how it is at all possible to surpass -nature is to us completely obscure. A developed historical consciousness -and the free unfolding of the powers of the present permit many things -to rush in upon us; and we are involved in much inconsistency. We have -seen diverse systems of life arise and attract man to themselves; their -conflict relegates to the background all that is common to them, -produces the greatest uncertainty, and gives rise to the inclination, in -order to avoid all perplexities, to regard life as being made up -entirely of that which occurs within sense experience; and to acquire -aims from this experience, as well as to derive powers from it. But in -this we fall into the danger of idealising sense experience falsely, -and of expecting achievements from movements within it which are -possible only if these movements flow from deeper sources. We flee to -morality to become free from all religion and metaphysics; as though -morality, elevating man, as it does, above simply physical preservation -and the compulsion of mere instinct, is not itself a metaphysic, and as -though it does not of necessity require the existence of an order -superior to nature. Then we flee to the subject with its unrestrained -inwardness and contrast this inwardness with all the restricting -relations of life; as though the subject had any content and any value -without an independent inner world, the recognition of which involves a -complete revolution of the representation of reality; as then according -to the witness of history also humanity has reached such an inner world -only through wearisome toil and forceful resolutions. The whole course -of Antiquity had been leading up to this inner world, but the collision -of Antiquity at the time of its decay, with Christianity which was then -arising, first developed it clearly. Such an inner world must ever be -justified anew; and for this our own activity and conviction are -necessary. If we surrender its basis, it becomes dead capital which, -little by little, is inevitably spent, and then the appeal to the -subject that has lost its spiritual content is but a mere semblance of -help, which deceives us concerning the seriousness of the situation with -sweet-sounding words like "personality," "individuality," and so forth. -If the spiritual life is not strengthened and does not energetically -counteract this tendency, then, notwithstanding all external progress, -we must inwardly sink lower and lower. - -It is obvious that there is already such a counteraction in existence; -otherwise, how could spiritual destitution and the insignificance of the -merely human be so keenly felt in the present; how could so ardent a -desire for an inner elevation spread amongst men as we experience it -around us? There is no lack of attempts and endeavours after new aims -and new ways. But much is still lacking for these attempts to be equal -to satisfy the requirements of the matter. We place far too much hope -in external reforms, instead of primarily strengthening the inner basis -of life; we fix our attention far too much upon individual tasks instead -of seizing the whole; we have far too much faith that we can rise to a -new life out of this chaotic condition, instead of insisting upon an -attainment of independence in relation to this condition. - -How could independence be attained except by an energetic reflection of -man upon himself, upon his fundamental relation to reality, upon the -life dwelling in him, in short, except by self-consciousness? It is not -the first time that, in the course of the ages, to satisfy such a demand -has become the most urgent of all tasks. The work of history has not -unshakable foundations from the beginning; but the spiritual nature of -epochs always involves the activity and the decisions of man; it -involves, therefore, presuppositions that for a long period may be -accepted as established truths, and which, yet, finally become -problematic. At the beginning of the Modern Age, especially in the -transition to the Enlightenment, apparently established truths became -problematic in this way: the present is in a similar situation. The -threads that we have hitherto followed break; all external help is -rejected, as is also the authority of history; nothing else remains to -us than our own capacity, and the hope to find in it a new support and -the basis for a new construction. Only by our own power, and after a -break with the immediate present, shall we be able to strive after a new -idea of culture which corresponds to the historical position of -spiritual evolution, and which can take up into itself the experiences -of humanity. Such times of error, of vacillation, of searching, of -necessary renewal, are disagreeable and severe, but it depends only on -the summoning of spiritual power whether they become great and fruitful. -For, with regard to these central questions the times do not make men, -but men make the times, not, of course, in accordance with their own -preferences, but by seizing and realising the necessities that exist in -the spiritual condition of the time. - -Now, as scarcely anything else in life is more called upon to co-operate -in the renewing of culture than philosophy, so the system here concisely -presented is placed in the service of this task; it attempts a -construction chiefly by the union of three demands and points of attack: -it requires a more energetic development and a complete unification of -the life-process; it requires the acknowledgment and development of a -spiritual life of independent nature present to us; and lastly, it -requires that this life shall be understood and treated as the world's -consciousness of itself and thus as the only reality. All these demands -must tend towards an essential alteration of the existent state of -culture; they make much inadequate that previously sufficed; but they -also reveal an abundance of new prospects and the possibility of a -thorough inner elevation. - -It is a leading idea of our whole investigation that only from the -life-process itself are we able to orientate ourselves in relation to -ourselves and the world; and this idea is in agreement with the present -mode of thought in science. But to apply to our own time that which is -already acknowledged in general ideas is by no means simple. To give the -life-process such a position in our thought and to estimate it so highly -is possible only when life is distinctly distinguished from the states -of the mere subject, from the mere reflex of the environment in the -individual. This detachment cannot be accomplished unless we comprehend -as a whole that which exists in individual manifestations of life; -distinguish different levels in life, indicate relations and movements -within them, and thus advance to new experiences of life; reveal a union -of fact, a distinctive synthesis in life, which from a transcendent -unity shapes the multiplicity that it contains. But if in general it is -difficult to free ourselves so much from the condition of life in which -we find ourselves, to be able to illuminate this condition in this way, -and to throw its inner framework into relief; for us there is also to be -added the immeasurable expansion that directs the interests and the -vision to the outside, and is accustomed to treat, as a mere supplement, -a mere means and instrument, the life that in reality sustains all -infinity. A culture that has made the attainment of results the chief -thing has been detrimental to the spiritual, which no longer trusts -itself to encompass these achievements and to change them in a -development of life, to take up the conflict for dominion over reality. -It willingly flees to the passivity of the subject, where sooner or -later it expires in complete destitution. - -If inwardness is so feeble and external relations so overwhelm us, life -necessarily receives its content from outside, and seems to be -determined essentially by that which happens around us. It is this that -lends so much power to-day to a superficial enlightenment that centres -in natural science, and expects life to be advanced without limit, and -man to be revived and ennobled, simply by reaching a more valid -representation of the environment. We do not ask here how far the -representations proposed overcome the difficulties of the older -representations, or whether new and more difficult problems do not arise -from the solutions offered; but we do ask whether life can obtain its -aim and content from outside, and whether it can be treated simply as an -addition to nature without degenerating inwardly, and losing all inner -motive. We ask what the theories based chiefly on externals make of man, -and what they achieve for his soul. We summon him to an examination, to -see whether the picture that is held up to him by these theories agrees -with what he longs for, and, by a compelling necessity of his being, -must long for. - -To-day it will also be evident that the final decision does not rest -with the intellect, but with life as a whole. For, little as -intellectual achievement is absent from truth, the masses--and to the -masses belong those at the average level of all classes, higher as well -as lower--will always hold fast to the external impression. The advance -beyond this impression and the appreciation of the inner conditions of -knowledge will always remain a concern of the minority. There is, -however, a point where the problem becomes real to each individual, and -where each can offer his opinion: this is in reference to the question -of the happiness and the content of life. The more this question is -felt, the greater will be the thirst for a substantial truth in contrast -with the shadows of the Enlightenment; the more will the question -concerning the nature of life as a whole receive its due consideration, -and the perception of things externally will give place to a -comprehension of their inner reality. Only with such a revolution can -our life and we ourselves be transformed from a state of spiritual -destitution to one of independent energy; only thus can we discover the -wealth that is within us; only thus can culture, from being an -occupation with things, become a preservation and an unfolding of our -own selves; only thus can we strive for more simplicity in contrast to -the complexity that would otherwise be our condition; and only thus can -we wrest from what would otherwise be chaos, fundamentals and -tendencies. Our demand, therefore, that the starting-point should be the -life-process itself is in harmony with the innermost longing of the -time--even if this longing is often indefinite--after a deepening of -life and an attainment of its independence. - -If the turning to the life-process puts the question, the assertion of -an independent spiritual life gives the answer to it: however strange -this assertion may seem in relation to superficial temporal experience, -it meets a deep longing. For we are completely satiated with narrowly -human culture; the movements and experiences of the Modern Age, and in -particular of the present, make us so clearly conscious of all that is -trivial, simply apparent, disagreeable, feeble, shallow, empty, and -futile in human conduct, that all hope of finding satisfaction in this -conduct, and of advancing life essentially by its means and powers, must -be abandoned. We have, therefore, to face the following alternative: -either absolute doubt and the cessation of all effort, or the -acknowledgment of a "more" in man; there is no third possibility. But in -the context of our investigation no discussion is required to show that -this "more" cannot consist in an individual's elevation of himself above -others; that it cannot consist in a so-called Superman--a view that -only involves us more in the narrowly human. Either the "more" sought -for is only imaginary, a covering of tinsel with which we conceal our -nakedness, or a world transcending the merely human, a new stage of -reality, reveals itself to man, which can become his own life. As it is -this transcendent world alone that engenders a universal life within us -and opposes the insignificantly human; so also from this alone, and as -its manifestation, can culture become independent in relation to man. -Only when it is understood in this way can culture include aims and -tasks that do not strengthen man in his narrowness, but free him from -it, and make him spiritually greater. - -Not only the conception but the whole nature of that which is called -culture is an unstable hybrid. It should elevate man above nature, and -give to his life a characteristic spiritual content; but at the same -time we have a dread of a detachment from the experience of sense and of -the construction of an independent world, because these must lead to -that which, of all things, is the cause of most alarm, to a change of a -metaphysical character, to a transformation of existence. In truth, in -the work of humanity two tendencies are usually undistinguished, which, -if life is to continue to advance, need to be distinctly separated: a -spiritual culture and a merely human culture. The former reveals new -contents and aims; with it a new world emerges within man, and -transforms his life from its basis: the latter uses that which a higher -organisation has given us, solely as a means for the advancement of our -natural and social existence. Merely human culture turns the spiritual -into a mere means to increase narrowly human happiness, whereas the -spiritual by its very nature makes us feel the whole of this happiness -to be too insignificant, indeed intolerable. The difference of a merely -human and a spiritual culture extends from the fundamental disposition -to all the separate departments of life. Religion, for example, is to -the former a means by which the individual may make himself as -comfortable and as secure as possible in an existent world, and conduct -his own insignificant _ego_ through all dangers; to the latter, it -signifies a radical break with that world and the gain of a new life, in -which care for that _ego_, or even the state of society, is relegated -completely into the background. To the one, morality is simply a means -in the organisation of human social life, in the accommodation of the -individual to his environment; to the other, it discloses a new -fundamental relation to reality, and in the transformation of existence -in self-determining activity allows life to win an inner union with the -infinite and its self-consciousness. On the one hand, art, science, the -life of the state, education, and so forth are the idols of utility, of -expediency, the adornments of a given existence; on the other, they are -the gods of truth, of inner independence, of world-renewing spontaneity. -That there should be an end to the confusion of the worship of idols and -of gods; that spiritual culture should be distinguished from merely -human culture; that the spiritual content of the individual departments -of life should be energetically developed, and the spiritual poverty of -merely human culture made clear--all this is the urgent demand of the -present, without the fulfilment of which its state of confusion cannot -be overcome. Yet spiritual culture can never become independent unless -the spiritual world is independent. Only the presence of this spiritual -world makes it possible for culture, at the level at which it is -generally found, to be tested by a transcendent standard to see how much -spiritual substance, how much content and value, it contains. This test -will prove that we possess far less spirituality than we think; and that -the most of what is called culture is no more than the semblance of -culture, no more than imagination and presumption. But at the same time -we recognise and gain in the little spirituality that remains to us -incomparably more; we win the presence of a new world, and by this, -depth of life and the possibility of an inner renewal. Our life would be -indescribably shallow if it were to pass on one level and were to be -exhausted in the experiences at that level. The acknowledgment of an -independent spiritual life saves us from this shallowness, in that it -shows an inner gradation within our own province and sets life as a -whole a task. - -If the acknowledgment of a spiritual world, inwardly present to us, -gives to culture a distinctive character, this character receives a -further modification from the particular manner in which the spiritual -life makes its appearance and becomes established within our existence; -at the same time, from this position there is also the possibility of -different sides and tasks within an all-comprehensive work of culture. -Of special significance in reference to this modification is the -circumstance that the spiritual life does not possess man as a natural -fact, does not operate within him with complete power and sure direction -from the beginning, but is present to him at first only as a -possibility, and as a transcendence of the general condition of things. -In accordance with this, although the spiritual belongs to our nature, -it is not so much "given" to us as set as a task; for its realisation it -needs our own attention and appropriation; all development of the -spiritual life within us, therefore, involves our own activity and so -receives an ethical character. The spiritual life also has such an -ethical character because, transcending our original condition, it must -be conveyed to us, and must be maintained by an imparting and an -activity. In the spiritual life we find ourselves in a sphere of -activity and of freedom in contrast with that of nature; in this way our -life becomes our work, our own life in a much more real sense. We see -this in the case of the fundamental form of the spiritual life that is -called "personality." We men are by no means personalities from the -beginning; but we bear within us simply the potentiality of becoming a -personality. Whether we shall realise our personality is decided by our -own work; it depends primarily upon the extent to which we succeed in -striving beyond the given existence to a state of self-determining -activity. The fact that we thus take part in the formation of our own -being proves that we are citizens of a new world--a world other than -nature--and shows that we are incomparably more than we could become -simply as parts of nature. Neither philosophy nor religion will convince -one who, at this point, does not recognise an elevation to a higher -power, indeed a transformation of existence. But one who recognises this -will desire such a transformation and such an elevation of culture also; -he will not come to an easy compromise with the given condition of -things and draw the greatest possible amount of pleasure from this -condition; but he will set culture an objective ideal; arouse it from -the prevailing state of indolence; fully acknowledge the antitheses of -experience, and will be provoked rather to make further exertions than -disposed to abandon himself to these antitheses. Life finds its main -problem in itself, solely in the development of an ethical character, -and attains to complete independence and a transcendence of nature only -when the spiritual takes precedence. Every culture that does not treat -the ethical task, in the widest sense, as the most important of tasks -and the one that decides all, sinks inevitably to a semblance of -culture, a half-culture, indeed a comedy. The æsthetic system, with its -transformation of life into play and pleasure, with its beautiful -language and its spiritual poverty, is such a life. To-day, therefore, -we can revive and strengthen culture only by establishing such an -ethical conviction. Only a culture of an ethical character can develop -an independent and positive spirituality; only such a culture can free -the impulse of life from being directed simply to natural -self-preservation, and in doing this not make the impulse weaker, but -stronger. In nothing have minds been more divided and in nothing will -they become more divided than with regard to the question whether, after -the perception of the inadequacy of mere nature and society, a new world -reveals itself to them, or whether this negation is the ultimate -conclusion; the former will be possible only through that which we call -ethical. - -The conception that we have here presented of the spiritual life and of -its relation to man also makes it for the first time possible to -understand and acknowledge the manifold and opposing elements in our -time without falling into a shallow eclecticism. Realism advances in -power, and Idealism seems to be endangered in respect not only of its -form but also of its innermost nature. Idealism is indeed in danger so -long as the spiritual life has not attained to independence in relation -to man; for, so long as the spiritual life is regarded as a production -of man the knowledge of man's relation to nature and his animal origin -must lead to a serious prostration, to a complete dissolution of -Idealism. If, on the other hand, it is established that with the -spiritual life a new order transcending the power of man makes its -appearance within him, then the recognition of human incapacity becomes -a direct witness to the independence of the spiritual life. We must, -therefore, cease to treat spiritual developments, such as religion, art, -morality, as the natural attributes of all called men. Man's natural -character simply offers tendencies and relations which can find a -spiritual character only by the revelation of a spiritual world. The -decisive point of transition is not between man and animal, but between -nature and spirit. But even where culture is supposed to be at its -highest, human existence is for the most part at the level of -nature--and is only embellished in some degree. - -In Idealism a religious shaping of life is to be distinguished from an -immanent shaping of life by spiritual creation, especially in art and -science. The demand for a universal spiritual system involves the -rejection of the specific religious system as being in many ways too -narrow and open to hostile criticism; this universal system, however, as -it is presented when the spiritual life is acknowledged to be -independent, is closely related to religion. Not only is all -spirituality within us dependent upon a universal spiritual life, but -this spiritual life within us always presents itself as something -transcendent and is not coincident with our life. This religious -character must be the more clearly emphasised the greater the toil with -which the spiritual life must defend itself from a world apparently -alien and hostile. Immanent Idealism, filling life as it does through -art and science, cannot possibly be the whole and conclusive--for this -reason at least, that it has too little with which to counteract the -perplexities of spiritual and of material life, and because it -concentrates life too little within itself. But a scientific character -is indispensable to a universal spiritual culture, in order that life -may not pass in subjective feeling and presentation, and that life may -have an objective character, and be led to the clearness of a universal -consciousness. An æsthetic form and creative activity pertain also to -this life; for, otherwise, no representation of reality as a whole could -be obtained from the confused impressions of immediate experience; the -spiritual could attain to no clear present, and could not permeate -reality with ennobling power, and change all that is deformed and -indifferent to it in the original condition of things. - -From the point of view of spiritual culture the movements in the -direction of Realism also may be regarded as of value, if only they do -not desire to dominate life and to impress their form directly upon it. -The tendency to place a low estimate upon the natural and material -conditions of life and of human social relationship has everywhere -revenged itself upon the spiritual life, since it has allowed that life -to fall into a state of weakness and effeminacy, and prevented it from -realising its full power and strength. - -The acknowledgment of the multiplicity of tasks that are involved in all -the departments must be a source of great danger to life, if every -department of human experience does not serve the development of an -independent spiritual life. The more power the spiritual life acquires, -the more securely will it tend to prevent division. Nevertheless, -everything is in a state of movement; man must first win a coherent -character for his life. But it is already a great gain that we are not -defenceless in face of the antitheses within the human sphere, that the -presence of an independent spiritual life elevates us inwardly above -them and only allows an inner unity to take up a conflict. - -We may also briefly consider how the conception of the spiritual life as -a coming of reality to itself, as a formation and development of being, -must tend to deepen and strengthen the work of culture. How much more -this work must become to us, how much more indispensable must it be, if -it is not simply a matter of giving an existent material a new form, of -arousing dormant powers, but if in it we first advance from a life that -is only a half-life and a life of pretence to a real and genuine life; -if we struggle not for one thing or another within existence, but for -our being as a whole! If once life is awakened to reflect upon itself, -and if at the same time it makes a claim to self-consciousness and a -content, it cannot doubt the poverty of the life of mere nature and just -as little that of the life of mere society; in the former, as in the -latter, there are only suggestions of a genuine life, only -possibilities, most of which do not come to be realised. Not suffering, -but spiritual destitution is man's worst enemy. From this position the -outlook of the life of the majority can be only a cloudy one, its value -only mean. If we abstract from the experience of man that which is due -to the necessity of self-preservation and to social training, how much -inner movement, how much life of his own, how much that is spiritual -remains in him! How many dead souls there are in all classes of society; -how many who, allowing their powers to lie dormant, drift about -aimlessly! Nevertheless other possibilities exist in man, and even if -they are not positively developed, still they prevent him from feeling -satisfied in that state of spiritual poverty, and always keep him in an -insecure state of suspension. - -The less we think of the immediate welfare and capacity of man, the more -will the spiritual life transcend us and the more urgent will the task -of the spiritual life become--to preserve to human existence in the -midst of all externality and pretence some kind of substance and some -kind of soul. However, we have already occupied ourselves with the -question of the nature and significance of truth and reality in the -spiritual life. - - -(b) THE ORGANISATION OF THE WORK OF CULTURE - -A problem from which no system of life can escape is that of the -organisation of culture, the question how the work of culture can be -divided into different departments and at the same time preserve a -unity. To-day we are in a state of great perplexity in this matter; an -old solution has become untenable, and a new one has not yet been found. - -The Middle Ages handed down to us a system of culture that may be -described as a hierarchy, in the widest sense of that term. The -multiplicity of life was united into a whole; but this whole was -dominated by distinctive religious and philosophic convictions, which -assigned to each individual department its place in the whole and set it -its task; these departments attained to a complete independence as -little as that system had an independence for individual forms. The -Modern Age has evolved and has realised a system of freedom in -increasing opposition to the earlier system. How this everywhere effects -an emancipation is demonstrated by our problem of the increasing -development to independence by the individual departments of life. The -state and society, science and art, find their tasks more and more -within themselves, in their own development; they engender distinctive -laws and methods of their own; they seem to be able to reach their aims -of their own capacity. Effort is directed more and more into individual -departments, and there is a feeling of complete satisfaction in this -tendency. Our life has gained immensely in comprehensiveness and breadth -by the transition to this modern system: it comes more closely into -touch with the realm of fact; it produces a greater diversity of -movement, since the different departments have their own -starting-points, enter upon distinctive paths, and direct their powers -into these paths. The attainment of independence by the individual -departments of life constitutes one of the chief gains of modern -culture, and it cannot again be given up. - -But the attainment of independence by the individual departments brings -great perplexities with it, which make a definite counter-movement -necessary. At first the tendencies characteristic of the individual -departments directly contradict one another; indeed, this is inevitable, -if they are not systematised in some way. For, particular experiences of -human life are present in each department: one feels our greatness more, -another our weakness; one is moved more by the harmony of existence, -another more by the antitheses; one tends rather to exert power upon the -environment, the other to concentration in itself; from these -experiences there must originate different modes of life and different -representations of the world. In this condition of life it is impossible -for the different tendencies not to cross one another and to clash -together; and this threatens to divide our life, and to rob it of all -its inner unity. A glance at the condition of life in the present is -sufficient to convince us that such dangers are more than fancies. - -To the difficulty in respect of the relations of the different -departments among themselves, we must add another, if anything greater, -in respect of the relation of each department to life as a whole. To be -well organised each department needs a co-operation of form and content, -of the technical and the personal; the former gives the department its -particular nature; for the latter a relation with life as a whole is -necessary. The work of science, for example, follows certain forms of -thought, which it evolves from itself, and which are equally valid for -all times and parties. But even the most conscientious following of -these laws does not give to science a content and a character; science -can acquire these only in relation with a movement of life as a whole, -which, in its striving from whole to whole, takes up the experiences of -humanity and unites them into a whole. Only in this way does science, -from being simply an arrangement and accumulation, become knowledge, an -inner appropriation of things. If in accordance with this the individual -departments are detached more and more from life as a whole, and are -made dependent solely upon their own capacity, it can hardly be -otherwise than that in the midst of all perfection in execution they -lose more and more all spiritual content and all definite character. At -the same time, it may soon follow that the effect upon humanity as a -whole will become subsidiary and a matter of indifference; the -individual departments will become exclusively a matter of a circle of -specialists, and strive for an effect within this circle only. In this -way an art arises which, in the artist, forgets the man, and which does -not so much convey new content to human life, or help the time to attain -to a characteristic feeling of life, and elevate it above the -meaninglessness and the confusion of commonplace everyday experience, -but which is for the most part mindful of refinement in execution, and -so, easily degenerates into the complicated and the virtuoso. In the -case of science we find the same thing. It may, through exaggerating the -independence necessary to it, assume an air of proud self-satisfaction, -and, by detachment from the movement of life as a whole, that which is -its main concern, namely, knowledge, may suffer. For it soon tends to -become mere erudition, which treats problems as something half-alien, -gains no inner relation to things, does not understand how to animate -reality, indeed even rejects, as unscientific, all striving after such -animation. This tendency produces, to use an expression of Hegel's, -excellent "counter-servers," who do not look after business of their -own, but only that of others. - -No people are more threatened by the danger of this tendency than we -Germans; more especially because the tendency is closely related with a -most advantageous quality of our nature--willing subordination to the -object, fidelity to and conscientiousness in our work. But since we -follow this one tendency, aspects and tendencies which are absolutely -necessary to a complete life stagnate and decay. We do not sufficiently -develop a personal life independent of the object; we do not encompass -and transform it from its very base by a transcendent life-process; and -so we are occupied too much with the material, and do not completely -spiritualise it; we do not bring into relief simple lines in the -infinite abundance, which we require and must maintain complete. How -many excellent scholars our time possesses, who are equipped with an -astonishing capacity for work, who are masters of even the most -complicated technical matters, and yet how few spiritual types there are -among them; how few who have anything to say to humanity, and who will -exert their influence in this way beyond the present! The history of -German formative art also indicates a painful divergence between the -amount of untiring work and the carefulness of execution, and the -creation of simple and pure forms that would increase the spiritual -possessions of humanity, and be permanent factors in its movement. -However, the trait is rooted far too deeply in our being for even the -most determined resolution to be able directly to achieve much to -counteract it. Nevertheless, it is not a matter of indifference whether -we give ourselves complacently up to this one-sidedness, and fortify -ourselves proudly in it; or whether we oppose it to the best of our -ability. - -We find ourselves therefore in the present in a difficult situation with -regard to the organisation of culture. To give up the independence of -the individual departments, or even only to limit it in any way, would -be an enormous and impossible retrogression; on the other hand, some -kind of inner unity of life must be obtained. A transcendence of the -antithesis must, therefore, be sought; and this needs a distinctive -structure of life. The spiritual life offers such a structure in so far -as it constitutes the development of being. For we saw how independent -centres and characteristic movements arise in an all-comprehensive life. -Between these movements there may be manifold relations and antitheses, -but they are within a vital whole and with their experiences can aid its -further development. Viewing the departments of life from this position, -it will be necessary to show that each individual department has a root -in life as a whole and a significance for this life; only thus can the -power of this whole life be exerted in the individual departments, and -penetrate them. But the department does not receive its form simply from -the whole by way of derivation; but it can take up and treat the problem -independently, and with its own means; that which exists in the whole as -an affirmation may be only a question and a suggestion in the individual -department. Yet this is in no way without value: for, nevertheless, it -leads us beyond the indefiniteness of the original condition, and guides -effort in circumscribed paths. What gives work in the individual -departments special significance and intensity is the fact that they -take up the problem of the whole in a particular sphere, and can treat -that problem in a characteristic manner; that they are not mere aids and -assistants, but independent co-operators. In this connection it is of -especial importance that the spiritual life is not conferred upon man in -a finished form; but that within him it must first be worked towards -with great toil and through doubt and error, from indefinite outlines to -more detailed development. It is obvious that the form of the whole will -ever be questionable; and that the individual departments must -co-operate in the examination and justification of the forms proposed. -Indeed, it is just the mark of great achievements in the individual -departments that, while they transform their own sphere, they at the -same time develop the whole. It is this that distinguishes Leibniz from -Wolff, and Kant from Herbart. - -Such an organisation gives to life a movement in two directions: it must -be conducted from whole to part, and from part to whole. The individual -departments must be developed far enough to reveal their particularity -and to produce a characteristic tendency of their own; but they must -remain within a whole, to receive from it and to lead back to it. The -relations between the individual departments will be distinctive in such -a system; the influence of one upon another will be without suspicion, -and advantageous, only when it is exerted through the mediation of the -whole; while disturbances are inevitable, when one conveys immediate -experiences to another and imposes its nature upon another. It was -necessary, for example, to reject the earlier encroachments of religion -upon other departments of life; art, too, often found it necessary to -resist the tendency to subordinate it to morality; and to-day there is a -strong inclination to shape every department of life in accordance with -the instructions of natural science. Yet although such encroachments -must be rejected, and the independence of each in relation to the others -preserved, the changes that are effected in one department are by no -means indifferent and lost to the other departments. For, if through -these changes life as a whole is developed, then the effect of the -change must extend to the other departments. In this manner of mediation -religion has exercised a strong influence upon the other departments of -life; and in this sense, to-day, an influence of natural science upon -the whole circle of existence will be readily acknowledged. But this -does not involve a limitation or an enslaving of other departments, -because the change in life as a whole must now be ascertained first; -and, besides, each individual department must test by its own -experiences the suggestion coming from the whole. - -When we take all these facts into consideration we see that the -organisation of culture is a difficult problem and that our organisation -is unstable. In culture, different tendencies will cross one another; -antitheses cannot be avoided, and collisions will not be lacking. But -that which life loses in completeness and exclusiveness, it gains in -wealth and movement; and division need not be a cause of anxiety so long -as a powerful spiritual life embraces and unifies the multiplicity. -Without such a counteraction by the spiritual life we must drift -towards ever greater specialisation; and, with this, we should not only -see life become more and more disintegrated, but we should also become -less and less spiritual, and be transformed into a soulless mechanism. - - - - -II. THE FORM OF THE INDIVIDUAL DEPARTMENTS - -_Preliminary Considerations_ - - -Before we proceed to discuss the individual departments of life we may -briefly consider the common task that is imposed upon them all by the -distinctive condition of the time: they must become independent in -relation to the earlier as well as to the more modern conceptions of -them, and, if necessary, take up a conflict against both. The course of -our investigation can have left no doubt with regard to the state of -prostration of the older forms of life: the uncertainty affects the -whole and the fundamental principles much more than it has ever done -before. Formerly the struggle was concerned rather with individual -departments or individual tendencies of life; it was carried on more in -reference to the conception and meaning of fundamental truths than with -regard to the validity of those truths themselves. The passionate -struggles of the period of the Reformation left the fundamentals of -Christianity untouched; in a similar manner the later attacks upon -ecclesiastical religion usually had a basis of firm faith in morality, -and derived their power more especially from it. To-day the authority of -morality is just as seriously shaken as that of religion; and the -conception of truth is itself in the same condition of uncertainty. - -In this condition of things an appeal to history cannot be employed as -proof of any position; a patchwork of our own and of something alien -gives us still less a position above perplexity: there is no other way -than to take up the problem with the means of the present itself. For -this the acknowledgment of the independence of the spiritual life forms -a fit foundation. The spiritual life is not dependent upon and fixed to -particular temporal conditions; ever anew it can break forth -spontaneously, and from the particularity of the time advance to eternal -truths. It is to us a source of joy that a time has come again when we -need not follow other paths, but must go our own; when nothing can bind -us but that which has been approved by our own being and our own -conviction. It is not necessary for a time such as this to take up an -attitude of hostility towards the whole past; rather--and especially -when it thinks worthily of itself--it will seek a friendly relationship -with history. But this is possible only when the present has attained -complete independence, and only from this independent position; only -when an eternal content is revealed in that which history conveys to us. -In opposition to submission to authority such a time makes a demand for -unlimited freedom and complete spontaneity; such freedom and spontaneity -are essential if life is again to find the truthfulness and the inner -power that we so painfully miss. - -Such a requirement of life and thought arising out of the immediate -present may easily lead us to separate from those to whom the crisis -does not seem so serious, and who believe that it is possible to -transform the old in a quiet and inhostile manner into the new. The -conflict will be far more acute with those who, with us, make the demand -for an independent present; but who, by the conceptions of an -independent present, freedom and spontaneity, understand something -totally different from that which we ourselves understand by them from -the point of view of an independent spiritual life. In all times of -spiritual revival the freedom and immediacy which the spiritual life -needs for itself have been usurped by mere man as though they were a -right pertaining to him: and then it appears that only the complete -emancipation of individuals, a severance of all connections, -unconditional submission to the passing moment, are necessary in order -to lead life to truth and greatness, and man to a glorious state of -happiness. Such a movement cannot spread without making the antitheses -of life appear less acute, concealing its problems and its depths, and -falsely idealising man with all the contingency of his experience: with -all the bustle of its preparation and all its agitation the movement -must terminate in a state of spiritual destitution; it threatens life -with inner destruction. With a modernity of this kind we have nothing in -common. - -We must, therefore, with all our power, wage war against the narrowly -human and imaginary freedom on behalf of one that is genuine and -spiritual: this conflict is exceptionally complicated and difficult, -because real life does not make such a clear distinction between the -genuine and the false as the conceptions do, but rather allows them to -be confused. For this reason the conflict will be carried on not only on -the right hand and on the left, but also against the confusion that -obscures the great "either--or," without the distinct presence of which -a spontaneous life does not acquire power and consciousness. A way must -be found by which, notwithstanding manifold dangers and complications, -we may advance to a life that combines depth with freedom, stability -with movement: this is an inner necessity of the age, and once it is -recognised and taken up as such, it will in some way be realised. - - -(a) RELIGION, MORALITY, EDUCATION - -1. RELIGION - -In no sphere of life is there more inner division and uncertainty at the -present time than in that of religion. To one, the rejection of all -religion seems to be indispensable to the sincerity of life and to the -attainment of healthy conditions, because, as a pernicious legacy from -past ages, it oppresses our life, confuses our thought, paralyses our -power of activity, and provokes men to the greatest hatred of one -another. To another, on the contrary, religion seems to be the only -firm support in face of the needs and confusions of the age--the only -thing that inwardly unites men and elevates each individual above -himself, the only thing that reveals a depth in life and allows life to -share in the infinite and the eternal. The adherents to each of these -views show the greatest earnestness and zeal; we cannot treat the -negation lightly and dispose of it with the convenient catchword -"unbelief," if only for the reason that on the part of many this -negative attitude is due to a sincere anxiety for the truthfulness of -life. To rise above this conflict in regard to religion we must, in the -first place, estimate the points at issue impartially; and nothing else -is more called upon to do this than philosophy. - -Philosophy will not make light of the prostration of religion; for a -survey of history shows that the state of life has undergone a complete -change since the epoch when religion exercised an undisputed supremacy. -At that time the world and human life received all meaning and value -from their relation to an invisible and supernatural order. The course -of the Modern Age has made the world that surrounds us ever more -significant, and since man has directed his activity upon this world, -the world of faith has been allowed to recede more and more. The -movement that led to our present position attained increasing power and -consciousness through three stages: at the height of the Renaissance the -divine was revered less in its world-transcendent sovereignty than in -its world-pervading operation; then, the Pantheism of a speculative and -æsthetic culture associated the world and God together in one reality; -finally, in the investigation of inimitable nature and the formation of -political and social relations the world of sense gives man so much to -do, fetters his power so much, and gives him at the same time such a -proud consciousness of this power, that the conception of a transcendent -world fades entirely; and an Agnosticism that rejects as superfluous and -unfruitful all reflection upon and care concerning such a world gains -ground. - -This change in the direction and in the disposition of life must itself -have forced religion more or less out of the field of our attention. But -it is fraught with far more dangers to religion that the work of the -Modern Age in all its main tendencies is directed against the principles -of the life upon which the development of religion rests. Modern natural -science has dispossessed man of the central position that he formerly -attributed to himself, and has deprived nature of its soul. The modern -science of history, with its demonstration of ceaseless change in all -that is human, has undermined the faith in an absolute truth. At the -same time, with regard to the beginnings of Christianity, there is a -wide divergence between the traditional conception of faith and the new -conception obtained by historical research. The tendency of modern -culture has been to make the increasing of power, in work upon things -and in their control, the highest ideal; from the point of view of this -ideal of impersonal power, the world of pure inwardness, the home of -Christianity, has been able to appear to be simply a subjective and -subsidiary accompaniment of the life-process. He who estimates rightly -the fact that all these tendencies of modern life work together and -strengthen one another cannot fail to recognise that they force religion -from the centre of life to its circumference, and transform it from an -impregnable fact into a difficult problem; they destroy that -self-evidence of religion which previously made life secure and calm. -If, however, religion no longer springs up in the consciousness of -contemporaries from a necessity of their own life, it is not difficult -to understand that the complications of the problem are too great for -many of them; that the burden of obsolete forms over-balances the power -of their own impulse, and thus, by a sudden revolution, to reject it -seems the only way to save truth. Then religion seems to be only a -delusion that arose in a past age--a delusion similar to astrology and -alchemy; one which, in face of growing enlightenment, must ultimately be -completely dispelled. - -But if the philosophic treatment understands the negation rightly, it -can only warn us against being hasty in our acceptance of it. To be -sure, quite apart from all the caprice and purpose of man, the condition -of life has become very much changed; but it was less the state of -affairs itself that permitted the changes to clash so irreconcilably -with religion than the interpretation which it received and the -exclusiveness which was attributed to it. The decision in this matter -has depended in particular upon what is called the spirit of the age, -which is often nothing more than the inclination and disposition of man; -such inclination, as history shows, may change into the direct opposite; -it does not form a sure touchstone of truth. - -These considerations, indeed, do not make much headway in opposition to -the storm and stress of the movements of the age: that which operates far -more strongly in favour of religion is the experience and the feeling -that the attempted negation of religion by no means easily and directly -solves the problem of life; and, further, that along with religion much -becomes untenable to which even the modern man cannot lightly renounce -all claim. Whatever there may be in religion, it has brought man into -union with the deepest basis of reality, and at the same time revealed to -him a life of pure inwardness: it has set a task for life as a whole and -has given to life a meaning and a value; it has counteracted the lower -impulses and the egoism of mere self-preservation; and has organised -humanity spiritually. These aims have hardly become superfluous and -worthless: even without religion, and after abandoning its principles, it -would be necessary to accomplish these aims in other ways. It is in the -attempts at reconstruction that the futility of the negation of religion -becomes painfully evident. Phrases concerning the greatness and -noble-mindedness of all that bear human features; a blind faith in the -elevating power of intellectual enlightenment or even of external -organisation; a confusion of thought which, unobserved, rejects and -elevates its own principles, and so maintains in the conclusion that -which it rejected in the premises; all these things can deceive him alone -concerning the spiritual poverty and the complete powerlessness of what -is offered in them, whose zeal in his antagonism to religion has deprived -him of balance of feeling and impartiality of judgment. If it is inquired -what content and value human life still retains after the surrender of -all relation to the whole and of all inner relation, it will be -recognised that the complete negation of religion consistently carried -out must lead to an appalling convulsion of human existence as a whole. - -But if such considerations counsel us to be cautious in regard to the -negation of religion, they do not justify an adherence to its -traditional form. The far-reaching changes of life that we are aware of -cannot possibly be explained away or their significance lessened; they -must be estimated, and brought into relation with religion. The boundary -between the eternal and the temporal, the substance and the outward form -in religion, has been made uncertain by these changes; in particular -they forbid philosophy to treat the religious problem from the point of -view of a dogmatic confession. The antithesis between Catholicism and -Protestantism is the offspring of an age that preceded the development -of modern culture, with all its deep-reaching revolutions. The main -problem of religion at the time when the antithesis made its appearance -was differently stated from the way in which we now state it. For then -it was a question whether Christianity was to be formed from society or -from personality; while to-day Christianity fights for its existence as -a whole, and must defend its fundamental truths against a time in which -activity is directed into other paths. The present antithesis cannot -possibly be regarded as ultimately identical with the former one; and it -is for this reason impossible to take up the present conflict concerning -religion under the banner of a particular dogmatic confession. Such an -ante-dating of the conflict also has the disadvantage that it prevents -the great antitheses which are involved to-day both in Catholicism and -Protestantism from being clearly displayed. Two different streams have -been present in Catholicism from its beginning: to the one, the power of -the ecclesiastical system is the main thing; while to the other, on the -contrary, the religious disposition is of supreme importance. The -influences of modern culture have increased this difference, both -directly and indirectly, and, chiefly outside of Germany, there are -signs of the beginning of a stronger movement towards a more inward -Catholicism. Protestantism carries within it an antithesis of the old -ecclesiastical form of religion, which adheres as much as possible to -the state of things in the sixteenth century, and a form transformed by -the Idealism in modern culture more into the universal, the free, the -purely human, but also not infrequently into vagueness and superficial -optimism. But so long as the bitterness of sectarian prejudice diverts -the attention of men from the chief thing, these antitheses are not -clearly expressed and energetically developed. There are serious -contradictions involved in these views of religion, and they cannot be -developed without giving rise to parties. Philosophy must strive with -all its energy to bring it about that these parties shall be formed in -relation to the present situation, and not from the point of view of a -past age; and that the conflict shall be raised to a higher level, to -truth and greatness, by bringing itself into relation with the needs of -the age. - -The task of philosophy is not limited to estimating as impartially as -possible the state of things as we immediately experience it; that task -also includes a positive treatment of the religious problem. That which -is characteristic in the philosophy of life advocated in this treatise, -Noëtism, as it might be called, must also find a definite expression and -show what capacity it has, in the fulfilment of this task. In accordance -with its fundamental relation to history, which has been much discussed, -Noëtism cannot make history most important, even in religion, and cannot -read into history as much as possible of what the present demands; it -must regard any such procedure as a weakness and a half-truth. Noëtism -must insist upon religion's justifying itself and establishing its -reality before the tribunal of the spiritual life: only then can the -truth that exists in history and that which, through progressive -differentiation, promotes the cause of transcendent truth and brings it -nearer to humanity as a whole, be elucidated. We have not for a moment -lost sight of the fact that it is essential to religion to be related -not to single individuals but to all; and that religion can evolve no -power without compelling men to some kind of unity. - -Now, for the treatment of the religious problem, Noëtism offers first a -position from which demands are made compatible which are otherwise -directly opposed to one another. Religion is concerned with experiences -which at one and the same time must possess a universal character, -belong to our own life, and be immediately accessible to each. The -attempt of speculative philosophy to establish religion by deduction -from the nature of the whole has the required universal character; but -it introduces religion to the soul from outside, and remains a mere -intellectual gain. The contrary attempt to base religion in the -individual soul developed an inwardness; but this attempt shows that the -soul does not know how to build up a world and to contrast it with the -subject, to present this world as something transcendent; it makes no -sure progress beyond the fluctuation and undulation of feeling. Only an -independent spiritual life, inwardly present to us, elevates us above -this division of subjective feeling and a transcendent world, and -inaugurates universal experiences in our own domain. How with the -spiritual life new realities are manifested; how a world-whole which -transcends human existence becomes evident, has already been discussed, -and it is not necessary to make any repetition here. Every -acknowledgment of an independent spiritual life is favourable to -religion in so far as this acknowledgment makes us clearly perceive the -inadequacy, the illusoriness, and the vanity of all narrowly human -conduct and occupation, its futility in matters both small and great. So -long as attention is fixed on individual matters, and so long as we may -expect some improvement in these in the present or in the future, we -may not be aware of the futility of this conduct; but as soon as the -situation is grasped as a whole and estimated as a whole, such human -conduct is found to be entirely inadequate, these external aids are -found wanting, and there remains only the inexorable "either--or": -either the power of a new world is operative in man, and makes him -strong outwardly and inwardly, or the whole life of man is spiritually -lost--one great delusion, one great error. - -If from the point of view of the spiritual life the contour of a new -world is acquired, we may turn back to history, and ask how far it -indicates a movement which tends in the direction of such a world. The -spiritual life itself brings a distinctive standard for this inquiry: -the fundamental fact is not a single factor within life, but the -existence of a self-conscious whole of life, of a spiritual process -itself. From the point of view of the spiritual life, the chief thing in -religions will be the kind of life they reveal; what they make of the -life-process; how through the relation to an absolute life they evolve -the life-process to a higher stage. Only so far as they express this -life-process, and not in themselves, are the doctrines and practices of -religion of value. - -If we apply this test to the individual religions, Christianity -distinctly shows itself to be far superior to the others. More than any -of the other religions, Christianity fulfils the demands which are made -by the nature of the spiritual life and its relation to the world; and -so far as Christianity satisfies these demands, but not in its -historical form as a whole, it may assert itself to be absolute. - -If Christianity as a religion of redemption requires that we should tear -ourselves from the old world and aspire to a new one, this demand -receives a distinctive significance by the more detailed conception -which Christianity forms of it. As evil and that which is to be overcome -is regarded not, as among the Hindus, as mere appearance, but as moral -guilt, which disorganises the world, it is not the fundamental reality -of the world but a particular conception of it that is rejected; and so -there remains the possibility of life being given a positive character; -and in this the main thing is not intellectual enlightenment, but -radical moral renewal, an elevation into a world of love, grace, and -reverence. This view of the world makes it impossible to base life -simply upon affirmation or negation; but affirmation and negation must -be present within it, and thus life is given an inner comprehensiveness -and an inner movement which it would not otherwise possess. Christianity -included the innermost basis of human life in this movement and -transformation, since it not only regarded the divine as influencing the -human by individual manifestations of its power, but proclaimed a -complete union of both, and maintained this through its whole -development. A wearied and exhausted age may have formulated this -fundamental truth in the most unfortunate manner in the doctrine of the -divine humanity of Christ; nevertheless, the effectiveness of the truth -involved was not prevented by this. Only from the power of a conception -of a union of the divine and the human can religion acquire the -character of pure and complete inwardness, of a spiritual -self-consciousness: otherwise the relation of the divine and the human -remains a more or less external one. But this is not the place to trace -how the Christian type of life has been visibly embodied in the course -of history in the personality and the life of its founder, and in the -common labours of centuries, in which the Semitic and Germanic natures -have been harmonised, and great peoples and personalities have given -their best to the world: here we may only remark further that the whole -is not a work completed at one particular point in time, but a -continuous task of all ages; and that, in the fundamental life -transcending all mere time, a fixed standard is offered by which to test -the achievement of all particular ages, and to differentiate the results -of the work of history as far as they correspond with the fundamental -character of religion. Religion must maintain the fundamental character -of the life that it advocates, in face of all change in the state of -culture, just as decidedly as for its development in detail it remains -dependent upon the help of the work of culture. - -Religion in the present, therefore, has great and difficult tasks. For -one thing, religion must energetically maintain the supremacy, in -opposition to modern culture, of the type of life that it advocates. The -fact that there are points of direct antagonism between the religious -type of life and modern culture ought neither to be denied nor in any -way obscured. On the one hand, we have an ideal of a life of the pure -inwardness of ethical disposition; on the other, the ideal of spiritual -power: in the former the tendency is to personal, in the latter to -impersonal life: in the one case there is a positive development only by -a complete transformation; in the other the immediate impulse of life is -the ruling motive power of the whole. It shows only superficiality and -confusion to seek an agreeable compromise between these antitheses; for, -in truth, either the one or the other must assume the guidance of the -whole. The whole course of our investigation permits of no doubt as to -our own attitude in this matter. - -But it is impossible to defend the supremacy of the type of life -advocated by Christianity without recognising the necessity that this -type of life must be in a form which appropriates to itself the long -experience of humanity and corresponds to the present stage of spiritual -evolution. The changes necessitated by this evolution are far too great -for the traditional form of Christianity to be able to express them; in -order to develop their own power, and to establish themselves -triumphantly in opposition to a hostile world, they must acquire an -independent form for themselves. - -There are three kinds of changes that are especially necessary to the -form of Christianity in the present. (1) The representation of the world -found in the older form of Christianity has become absolutely untenable: -in this matter we must not seek weak compromises between the old and the -new, but without fear we must fully acknowledge the elements of fact -that exist in the new. We cannot do this unless we make deep changes in -the way we regard religion; we must find the courage and the power for -such a renewal. (2) The whole movement of modern life has made us feel -that the realities with which traditional religion has to do are far too -insignificant and too narrow; a rigid insistence upon them threatens to -involve us in a degeneration to the narrowly human and subjective. The -conceptions of "inwardness," "personality," and "morality," in -particular, need to be interpreted more comprehensively and deeply; the -soul's "being for self" must be based upon a self-consciousness of the -spiritual life. Religion must take up the conflict with the world -spiritually, and through this grow in greatness in its whole effect and -government. (3) The older form of Christianity was the product of an -exhausted and faint-spirited age; hence its fundamental attitude is -predominantly passive and negative. It shows a strong tendency to -depreciate human nature, and to leave the salvation of man entirely to -God's mercy: in emphasising man's redemption from evil it is apt to -forget the elevation of his nature toward the good. The joyousness of -the Christian life is insufficiently dwelt upon; and the raising of men -from their prostration and perplexities falls short of a restoration to -a free and self-determining activity. What is needed is a thorough-going -reconstruction which shall emphasise the importance of action and -joyousness in Christian morality, without in any way weakening the -opposition to all systems of natural morality based on the rights of -force. - -In a word, with all respect to Christianity, we demand its expression in -a new form. We require that Christianity shall identify itself more -definitely with a religion of the spiritual life as opposed to a -religion which merely ministers to human frailty, and that it shall show -greater decision in casting off the antiquated accessories that hamper -its movement. We ask that it shall make prominent those simple and -fundamental features of its system which have value for all time, and in -this way restore sincerity and settled confidence to life. We can -hardly expect that the reunion of man on a religious basis will take -place all at once, but it would be a great gain if we could only clearly -realise what the oppositions are which still keep us apart. Such insight -would help to check that insincerity in religious matters which must -first be got rid of, if there is to be any source of spiritual health in -us. - - -2. MORALITY. - -From the perplexities of religion many flee to morality as to something -secure and untouched by dissension. The position of morality is, indeed, -different from that of religion. Of atheists there are many; but there -are few, if any, who deny the validity of all moral values: that -fidelity is better than deceit, love better than hate, concerning this -there is no dispute. But it is a question how far this agreement extends -and how much we may gain from it. Within the same sphere of culture at -least it is with very little difficulty that we come to agreement in -respect of individual matters of morality; if ethical societies limited -themselves to practical morality, and did not at the same time wish to -settle questions of principle, they would find scarcely any opposition. -But, as soon as we comprehend the individual matters as a whole and ask -for a foundation for the whole, problem after problem makes its -appearance, and it soon becomes clear that we can neither establish nor -distinctively form morality without a conviction concerning life as a -whole and our fundamental relation to reality. If, therefore, there is -so much uncertainty in the present concerning life as a whole and our -fundamental relation to reality, we must inevitably become doubtful and -unclear with regard to morality. In fact, the position may be described -in this way: we lack a morality which has a secure basis and a definite -character; in morality, also, after-effects of the past mingle with the -impulses of the present; and we are accustomed to conceal the poverty -of our own possessions by historical knowledge and mere learning--so -much is this the case that we are able even in a state of disgraceful -poverty to think ourselves rich. There are no less than five types of -morality which seek our adherence and the guidance of our soul: we may -suppose that in each of these there is some truth, but no single one is -able to win our acceptance entirely; each leads to a certain point, and -then we recognise a limit. We have a religious morality, in which our -volition is related to and our destiny is determined by a divine power; -but this endangers the spiritual independence of man, and has a strong -tendency to make his life too passive; besides, in this case, the -prostration of religion also weakens the power of morality and its power -to direct life. We have a morality of culture, which directs all power -towards increasing the progress of humanity, and subordinates all -subjective preference to the requirements of an objective operation and -creation; but the ceaselessly increasing differentiation of work makes -this form of morality a danger to the soul as a whole; man is in danger -of being made a mere means and instrument of a soulless process of -culture. We have a social morality, which makes the welfare of society -the chief thing, and which, by strengthening the feeling of solidarity, -produces humane efforts in abundance, but is unable to include life as a -whole; in this form of morality there is a great danger of -overestimating external conditions of life, and of levelling and -weakening life. Certain great thinkers have advocated a morality of pure -reason, which elevates man above the sphere of the useful and the -pleasant; and gives to him an inner independence; but with all its -greatness this morality is too formal and too abstract for us; and, -besides, we lack to-day the certainty of an invisible world, which alone -can give a secure foundation to this type of morality. Lastly, we have -an individualistic morality, a morality of beautiful souls, which -regards the complete development of one's own particular nature, the -harmonious cultivation of the whole range of one's powers, as the aim -of conduct, but which not only necessitates individuals who are far -greater and far more characteristic in nature than we find in experience -in general, but also has little power to arouse us to effort, and, if -accepted exclusively, soon tends to degenerate into a refined -self-enjoyment and vain self-reflection. - -The presence of all these tendencies and motives in morality subjects us -to-day to an abundance of ethical stimuli; but it does not give us an -ethic. At the most it conceals the fact that the multiplicity of -activities do not form for us a universal task, which could counteract -the separation into individuals, parties, particular departments, and -give us the consciousness of serving in our work aims that transcend the -well-being and preference of mere man. We are in need of a morality that -proceeds from our own life; and in this we need much more than we are -conscious of needing. For we have no universal aim that we might take up -in our disposition, and by which we might test all individual -activities; and so life must become disunified and inwardly alien; we -lose all spiritual relation to the world. The world surrounds us in the -first place as a dark and immovable fate; we do not make ourselves -masters of this fate, just because we give ourselves too much to do with -things. Rather, to accomplish this, we must transform reality from its -very foundation by our own activity and decision; we must wage war -against obscurity and irrationality, and this conflict must tend to -divide our whole existence into friend and enemy, good and evil, but -along with this first give to life complete activity, and lead it to -world-embracing greatness. Only in this way does man, from being simply -a spectator, become a co-operator in the building up of the world; only -thus does that which occurs within him become in the fullest sense his -own. Everything which obscures the ethical character of human life -involves, therefore, a loss in greatness and dignity; a degeneration to -a state of servitude, to being a mere part of an alien whole. Particular -parties may be in agreement with and find satisfaction in this -condition; humanity as a whole will not rest content with it. As -certainly as humanity confidently maintains that its life has meaning -and value, so certainly will it take up the problem of morality ever -anew against all attempted intimidation. - -If to-day we are again to take up this problem, then in the first place -the conditions and the requirements of the problem must be quite clear. -We can never acquire a morality from the troubled confusion of social -life; on the contrary, morality involves a transcendence of this; it -necessitates distinctive convictions concerning the world as a whole and -our position in it. There is no independent morality, no morality in -itself; morality involves a fundamental whole of life, which is -appropriated in it and by this appropriation first attains to -perfection. In contrast to the existing condition of things a new -condition must first be raised in ideas that precede conduct. The new -condition acquires a moral character only through requiring on the one -hand moral freedom as opposed to the mechanism of natural impulse, on -the other a transcendent ideal in opposition to mere self-preservation. -These two together reveal a new order of things distinct from nature; -they must seem impossible from the point of view of the world of sense, -not only freedom with its apparent annulling of all connections, but -also the freeing of conduct from bondage to mere nature. For how would -one conceive an activity that did not tend ultimately to the good of the -agent, and so aid in his self-preservation? Does it not involve a -contradiction for him to exert his power for something alien to himself? - -If in the present we feel such problems in the fullness of their force, -and if we must fight for morality as a whole, we must go back to the -foundations of our existence, and seek primarily for a secure position -in contrast with the instability of temporal experiences. In accordance -with the whole course of our investigation, we can find such a position, -and by further development a distinctive morality also, only in an -independent spiritual life, which first conducts the world to -self-consciousness and so to genuine reality. The two requirements -discussed above cause no difficulty from the point of view of an -independent spiritual life. We convinced ourselves in a previous section -of the reality of freedom in the spiritual life; in morality also -conduct can free itself from the natural _ego_ without degenerating into -a state of emptiness, because the spiritual life reveals a new and the -alone genuine self. Thus here activity is not spent upon something alien -to us, something presented to it from outside, but is within our own -being, which here, indeed, includes the whole infinity within it. -Activity in the spiritual life serves true self-preservation, which has -only the name in common with natural self-preservation. - -Wherever it is acknowledged that the spiritual life involves a turning -of reality to complete independence and spontaneity, morality must take -a significant, indeed the central, position. For it is clear that only -the taking up in our own activity and conviction, only complete -appropriation, can bring life to the highest degree of perfection. -Morality does not find in existence a life-content which it must convey -to the individual subject, but is itself within the life-process; a -complete self-consciousness of the spiritual life is attained first in -morality, and morality must develop the content of that life. It is not -that man in morality turns toward the spiritual life, but that the -spiritual life elevates itself in the whole of its nature; all human -morality must have its basis in a morality of the spiritual life. - -With such a basis in the innermost nature, morality must concern the -whole multiplicity of life; it can include and estimate the most diverse -relations and experiences of our existence. But whatever is thus brought -under the sway of the morality of the spiritual life must undergo an -essential change, and must be elevated above the nature of that which is -not taken up in this manner. By an ethical formation and development of -art and science we do not mean that the individual should be loyal and -straightforward in their pursuit, and should follow honest aims; this -conception would be much too narrow. But it is that we should take -possession of and treat as our own life and being that which otherwise -remains outside as something half alien to us; that the work should -acquire the power and fervour of self-preservation; and that in this -unification the necessity of the object becomes a definite demand of our -life, and the gain of the object an advance of our life. Only such a -life which transcends the antithesis of subject and object gives to the -object a soul, and freedom a content. - -The experience of history also makes it clearly evident to us that the -spiritual life first acquires a secure position and an indisputable -supremacy over nature by its acknowledgment and appropriation in -self-determining activity. For history shows that wherever morality is -not central, the spiritual life, even in the midst of the most -magnificent results in external matters, languishes inwardly and loses -its hold. With individuals also the final decision concerning the -problems of the world and of life always depends upon whether they do or -do not recognise that man has an inner moral task in his nature as a -whole. If this is acknowledged, then--and this just in oppositions and -conflicts--a realm of inwardness is assured us which all apparently -contrary experiences of the external world cannot expel from its central -position; but if there is no such acknowledgment, the triumph of these -experiences and the collapse of the spiritual life cannot be avoided. - -The morality of the spiritual life, as we advocate it, will have -distinctive features in comparison with other conceptions of morality; -of these we can mention but a few here. The acknowledgment of an -independent spiritual life makes life as a whole a task, since it -requires that as a whole it should be changed into a state of -self-determining activity; that everything must be aroused and set in -motion. Thus the morality of the spiritual life is constructive and -progressive, and not simply regulative in character; it is not its -purpose simply to place life under regulations and to let activity wait -until there is an opportunity to fulfil them; but, calling forth all -our powers, morality must work and create, arouse and prepare the -opportunities, so that in everything the realm of the spirit may be -increased within the province of humanity. Like the spiritual life -itself, the morality proceeding from it must be of a transcendent -nature. To-day or to-morrow may not be considered beyond good and evil; -morality may not sink to being a mere means of realising the wishes of -the time. If, however, morality transcends time, and is able to separate -the transitory and the eternal in time, then, within its task, it may -very well acknowledge distinctive situations and problems, and present -different sides; indeed, only by a close relation with the time and by -penetrating deeply into the experiences of the time will morality -acquire the necessary proximity and impressiveness. To this extent, -therefore, we also insist upon a modern morality, however decidedly we -reject that which to-day is called "modern" morality, and which for the -most part is no more than a surrender of morality to the wishes and -moods of the individual. - -If in these features the morality of the spiritual life already -manifests a distinctive character, this distinctiveness is further -increased by the particular nature of the actual relation of man to the -moral task, as it appears here. The highering of the ideal will -necessarily increase its divergence from man, as he is. It will become -quite evident that morality is not a continuation of nature, a natural -attribute of man, or a product of social relationship, but the most -pronounced expression of a great change in the direction of life, the -institution of a new order of things. If at the same time life is to be -fashioned morally, a conflict is inevitable; and the general outlook of -life and of conduct will depend upon where we find the centre of -opposition and what is the main direction of the conflict. In the first -place, morality must take up a definite attitude towards the -sense-nature of man; that nature must be subordinated to the aims of the -spirit. But we have already seen that there is a danger that the ethical -task will lose its depth, and that life as a whole will be perverted, -if the rights of nature are misunderstood and there arises the desire to -suppress it completely, and if, in a tendency to asceticism, this -suppression is made the chief concern. The chief moral task is the -development and establishment of a genuine and real spiritual life, as -opposed to a false and merely apparent one, which is found in human -conditions, not only in the state of society but also in the soul of the -individual: thus a mere transition from society to the individual can -never give any aid. The condition in which life is generally found -evolves no independent spiritual life; but it uses the spiritual impulse -that is present within it simply as a means to other ends, and thus the -result is an inner perversion; at the same time man is generally -zealously occupied with giving himself the appearance of intending to -follow the spiritual for its own sake, and of sacrificing everything to -it. In opposition to such radical insincerity, to acquire a sincere and -genuine life is the chief task and the chief desire of morality; for the -establishment of sincerity and truth in face of an opposing world the -soul needs before all else loyalty and courage. - -And so morality involves life in a great division: it cannot possibly -take up a friendly attitude towards everything and readily admit -everything: its chief task must be to arouse life from its confusion and -apathy. But this does not prevent a morality of the spiritual life -striving for universality in its inner nature. The morality of the -spiritual life must, therefore, establish a definite relationship on the -basis of the present with the prevailing types of morality which were -previously mentioned. If the morality of the spiritual life is certain -of its own nature, it is quite possible for it to recognise a certain -validity in every other kind of morality without degenerating into a -feeble eclecticism. The relation that we recognised between the -spiritual life and religion also makes religion valuable to morality: -the moral significance of culture may be especially acknowledged where a -universal character is desired for the spiritual life; the relation of -man to man may also become inwardly important where it is necessary to -the inner construction of the life of society. Again the morality of the -spiritual life fully agrees with the demand for an independence of -morality and for an elevation above narrowly human aims, in the manner -that the morality of reason advocates; finally, individuality also can -obtain its due in the spiritual life. All this, however, is valid only -with the presupposition that we acquire a position above the antitheses -of experience and not between them, and an inner independence in -relation to the chaos of time. Only from this position and this -independence can we advance in any way, even within time. - - -3. EDUCATION AND INSTRUCTION - -Education and instruction are especially affected by the difficulties -that are engendered by the lack of a main tendency in life and of a -transcendence of the superficiality of time. For the lively interest -which its questions provoke, the incalculable amount of work and -activity that is called forth in this department, do not produce their -full result, because we do not possess enough life of our own of a -definite character to be able to test and sort, to clarify and deepen, -that which is presented to us. And so in conflict with one another we -use up much power without making much progress in the most important -matter. - -Educational reform is the catchword, but we have no philosophy of -education that is based upon a securely established conviction -concerning life as a whole, and we trouble ourselves very little to -obtain one. We wish to improve education, and yet we have not come to an -understanding with regard to its ideals, its possibility, and its -conditions. Education must be fundamentally different in character, -according as man is regarded as a particular and exclusively individual -being, or as a being in whom a new and universal life seems to emerge; -according as he is only an elevated being of nature or in the highest -degree possible a spiritual being; according as the higher proceeds from -the lower gradually and surely after the manner of organic growth, or we -must find a new starting-point and accomplish a revolution. Further, an -individualistic training, as it dominated the classical systems of -pedagogy, is no longer sufficient; the relation to society must also be -fully appreciated, and be effective. But attention to this requirement -involves us in the danger of treating the problem of education too -externally, and of bringing all more or less to the same level; and this -danger must be overcome. Yet how can it be overcome, unless we possess -securely a depth, unless we acknowledge the presence of the infinite -within the human being, as it is comprehended in our conviction of the -spiritual life? - -The form of instruction suffers from the ceaseless onflow of new -material, the constant increase in the number of claims. In itself each -single demand may be quite justifiable; but whether it is better than -the others can be decided only from an idea which governs the whole. If -no such idea exists, a gain in the individual departments may be a loss -to the whole; and an enrichment in one department may lead to a decline -of the whole. In face of that which has been handed down from the past -and that which arises in the present, it is difficult to come to a -balanced judgment; the parties may be right in their attacks one upon -another, but this does not imply that they are right in their own -assertions. The immediate impression tends to give the balance in favour -of the requirements of the present; from the point of view of the -immediate impression, all occupation with the past may appear to be a -flight from the living to the dead. The advocate of the claims of -history may reply to this that man as a spiritual being is not a child -of the mere moment, and that we concern ourselves with the past not on -account of what is transitory in it, but for its eternal content. But he -who thinks thus must throw the eternal content into relief and separate -it sharply from that which is simply temporal; he must establish a -relation between this content and his own life, and make that which is -externally alien his inward possession. This does indeed come to pass in -a few cases; but can we say that it comes to pass generally or -predominantly? We Germans in particular have far too strong a tendency -to substitute scholarly occupation for inner animation, and instead of -spiritual substance to offer academically correct knowledge. It is -therefore not without good reason if Classical Antiquity does not so -much inspire as weary our youth; yet the blame for this does not rest -upon Antiquity, but on ourselves, and upon the manner in which we treat -it with calm scholarship, without transforming it into our own -possession. For how could that influence the whole man which does not -come from the whole man? Everything points again and again to the same -thing--we lack spiritual independence, inner transcendence of history -and environment, we lack a characteristic life as a whole. The contact -with the incalculable abundance of impressions that we experience must -therefore remain an external one; and with all our increasing wealth of -knowledge we threaten to become spiritually poorer. - - -(b) SCIENCE AND PHILOSOPHY - -Science, with its innumerable branches and its powerful penetration of -life, is indisputably a strong feature of the age. Its effect is not -exhausted in the abundance of particular achievements; by the -objectivity of its work it has brought the world much nearer to us, has -led our life to greater clearness, has made us more alert, and given us -a secure dominion over things. Science, therefore, must also be a factor -in the determination of a philosophy of life, and must raise the whole -position of man. Of course, as soon as we survey and estimate its work -from the life-process we find that there is no lack of difficult -problems in science. Since the magnificent results of the natural -sciences often give rise to the tendency to force their particular bent -and methods on the human sciences, to which our conception of the -spiritual life gives a characteristic sphere of their own, there is a -danger that the balanced development of the individual sciences and the -complete organisation of what is distinctive in them will be prevented. -However, we do not lack energetic resistance of this danger; and -ultimately it is less science itself than the movement to popularise it -that falls into this danger. Further, the results of science with regard -to the object easily tend to obscure the subjective element, the -spiritual activity, the characteristic synthesis, which forms an -organised collection of pieces of knowledge into the unity of a science. -It is apt to appear as though science needs only to construct further on -a given basis and in a given direction; while both of these are open to -much dispute: different possibilities, prospects, types may be revealed; -the work of history has run through different stages, and has certainly -not already exhausted its possibilities. Nevertheless, the subjective -element with its freedom, mobility, and many-sidedness is becoming more -adequately appreciated, and there is no reason to fear that science will -become dogmatically pursued in paths that have become fixed. Finally, -the problem of the relation of thought to life is the source of much -perplexity: we Germans, for example, have a strong tendency to take mere -knowledge for inner appropriation of the object, and instead of -spiritual substance to offer an abundance of scholarship. This, however, -is not a defect in science itself, but an error on the part of man, who -has no life of his own with which to meet the onflow of impressions from -the environment; and so our estimate of science and our acknowledgment -of its magnificent achievement cannot be affected by this charge. - -Philosophy is in quite a different position: its present state cannot -satisfy anyone who seeks rather for a universal science than for an -academic discipline. For our philosophical efforts lack a common aim and -close relation with the innermost need of the time; they do not even -show any definite and energetic attempt to overcome the confusion from -which our world of thought suffers. A great stream of philosophic effort -came to an end with the speculative philosophy of the first decade of -the nineteenth century. After a temporary ebb of this philosophic -effort, we now wish to take up the work again with fresh power, but we -have not yet acquired inner independence; and therefore, in sifting and -collecting, we are unable to direct the age to definite aims, or -radically expel the inconsistencies into which an indefinite relation to -the past has led the present. - -There are three main streams of thought which come to us from the past, -and we can neither completely take them up nor withdraw ourselves from -them: the Enlightenment, with its philosophic summit in Descartes; the -critical philosophy of Kant; and speculative philosophy, with its -consummation in Hegel. It has been thought that the Enlightenment, with -its starting out from the subject, its unadorned intellectualism, its -formal ratiocination, its rejection of everything that is not -comprehended in clear and distinct ideas, was transcended at the height -of German classical literature, because at that time a life rich in -content was set in contrast with it. But, as a fact, no adequate -settlement with the Enlightenment has been arrived at; the supposed -transcendence is not final, because the elements of truth in the -Enlightenment, especially its turning from history to the immediacy and -independence of spiritual life, were not properly acknowledged. But -to-day it is less the elements of truth of the Enlightenment that are a -force than that which is trivial and narrowly human in it--the -ratiocination of the subject which, the more empty it is, the more it -feels itself to be the measure of all things, and, rejoicing in -negation, applies the results of the natural sciences in an attempt to -bring about the greatest possible suppression of all spiritual -relations. In this form the Enlightenment gains acceptance by the -masses, which formerly had seemed inaccessible to it; and thus it -becomes an instrument by which life is dissipated and made shallow. -From its position of research, philosophy looks down upon this tendency -with contempt; but it produces no movement that is able to take up the -struggle with this tendency to shallowness, and pass through the -struggle victoriously. Kant is often lauded as the spiritual guide of -our time; and it is overlooked how much that was certain for him has -become doubtful; how many new facts, new problems, new prospects, which -cannot be lost to the world of thought we have received from the -nineteenth century with its historico-social culture and its -overwhelming widening of the horizon. Kant's critique of the reason is -based on a conception of science; on a faith in the possibility of a -knowledge of truth; on a conviction of a spiritual organisation of man, -which are rather in contradiction than in harmony with the main -tendencies of the present. His absolute ethic, the pillar of his -constructive thought, is incompatible with the empirical and social -treatment of morality to which the present does homage. But at the same -time we cannot free ourselves from the influence of Kant. For we cannot -refute his critique of the reason, breaking up, as it does, the old -representation and conception of truth; and, without his ethic, our -ethic would lose the appearance of truth and greatness. In the judgment -of the present, Hegel experiences a treatment that is just the opposite -of that which Kant receives: if in reference to the latter we do not -notice what divides us, so in reference to the former we fail to -recognise what joins us. For if Hegel's exaggeration of the power of the -human spirit and his identification of spirit and thought appear alien -to us, yet his idea of evolution, which embraces all multiplicity, and -represents all realities and conceptions as in a state of flux; his -elevation of spiritual factors to the form of independent powers which -develop and establish their own necessities undeterred by the preference -of man; his emphasis on the fact of the power of contradiction and -opposition in history--all this, often in spite of our own conceptions, -exerts an enormous influence over us; and we cannot shake it off -without surrendering a considerable portion of our spiritual possession. - -These tendencies all whirl confusedly together and draw us now in one -direction, now in another; we can get beyond the state of decadence only -when we have succeeded in giving to the world of thought an independent -character, which corresponds with the spiritual condition of the -present, and which can do justice to the old as well as the new -experiences. After the whole course of our investigation, only a brief -account is necessary to indicate the directions the system of life here -advocated points out to reach this; a fuller treatment would make a -particular theory of knowledge necessary. We must bring into prominence -three of the chief points. - -(1) Only the life-process can be the starting-point of philosophy, not -some kind of being more ultimate than this process, whether we conceive -of such being as an external world or as a subject existing independent -of the world: the ideas of "world" and "subject," as also that of -"being," can be evolved and made clear only within the life-process; at -the same time, they remain in a state of flux, and never are so directly -opposed to one another as modern thought has represented them as being. -Philosophy, with this starting-point, would, however, attain an -independence in relation to the special sciences only if it were -possible within the life-process to form a unity and a distinctive -synthesis, which should deepen our view of reality and set it as a whole -in a new light. (2) Such a synthesis must transcend the state of change -of all the relations and caprice of men; this is possible only by the -revelation and appropriation of an independent spiritual life withdrawn -from the life of sense. Without such a spiritual life there is no -release from the chaos of subjective experiences and opinions; only from -the position of the spiritual life is it possible for a spiritual -occurrence to be revealed in the province of man, so that we do not need -to infer from man to the world, but that within him a universal life can -be immediately experienced. (3) As, on the one hand, the spiritual life -is an indispensable presupposition, so on the other it is an infinite -task; the former as far as the fundamental fact is concerned, the latter -in reference to its detailed content. This content can be acquired only -through the movement of history as a whole; thus a constructive -philosophy--and not merely a critical one--could arise only where the -spiritual life as a whole had acquired a characteristic form. In this -case, philosophy was not simply an offspring of life, not merely -something for life to occupy itself with. By its demand for a thorough -clarification of our ideas and life, and by its raising the question of -absolute truth, philosophy has exercised no little influence upon the -progress of life. But that which it achieved of a fruitful nature, it -achieved not in detachment from, but only in relation to, life, and by -interaction with it, however much this relation may be concealed at the -first glance. - -Such a connection of philosophy with life as a whole is by no means new; -it has existed in all times. Never has the world of thought acquired a -distinctive character except in close relation with life as a whole: it -is only from life as a whole that thought has received its problems, the -nature of its procedure, and the demarcation of its work. A survey of -the history of philosophy makes it evident that the leading thinkers -differ mostly, and differ from the beginning, in that which they regard -as the essence of life. In what they regard as the essence of life they -have found the firm point of support for their work; from that the -direction of their research has been determined; and from that the -questions arose to which they required an answer from the universe. And -we all know that in these matters the question often implies more than -the answer, that it often carries the answer within itself. - -If, therefore, this connection of philosophy with the life-process -signifies an old and indisputable truth, this truth is not sufficiently -acknowledged. Its adequate acknowledgment gives rise to a new situation; -indeed, it tends to the development of a new type of philosophy. With -the critical tendency of the Modern Age, this type shares the desire not -to surrender thought to a state of defencelessness in face of the stream -of appearances, but would primarily concentrate it in itself, and in an -inner independence find a standard for all further undertaking. But this -attainment of independence in thought is not accomplished by turning to -the mere subject, but to a central occurrence, transcending the -antithesis of subject and object. If thought cannot begin from such an -occurrence, and understand the movement of life as an unfolding and -perfecting of this comprehensive occurrence, then there is no truth for -man. Truth, as a relation of two series absolutely alien to each other, -is an absolutely nonsensical conception: truth must be immanent, in the -sense that one life embraces both subject and object, and that in the -movement of life there is as much a coming together of subject and -object as a coming together of activity from the centre and from the -circumference. - -That in this we have to do with a peculiar formation of knowledge and -not with a merely formal modification is shown by the following -considerations. If thought, in the manner previously supposed, takes its -starting-point in a world existing independently of the subject, then in -order to subordinate reality spiritually thought will comprehend it in -the most general conceptions. Ultimately, the being of things will be -sought in formal ontological magnitudes, as, for example, in "pure -being." If the whole abundance of reality appears to be derived simply -from these general conceptions, it is in danger of being transformed -into nothing but schemes and shadows, and of losing all genuine life. -If, as opposed to this, the subject alone is taken as the -starting-point, then more life and more movement is indeed assured, and -a more varied prospect will be acquired, but there is no possibility of -distinguishing between that which is only contingent to the individual -and that which forms a common inner world; there is no possibility of a -rejection of the narrowly human, or even of extricating a realm of ideas -from the abundance of impressions: if in the former case knowledge lost -all content, in the present case it threatens to be completely -dissolved. If, further, on the one hand abstract universal conceptions, -and on the other the subjective states of individuals, form the stem of -knowledge, then neither in one nor in the other does the fullness of -spiritual reality attain its due--the reality that exists in the -building up of a genuine spiritual culture. But in the type of -philosophy advocated by us this is the chief thing; since in contrast to -the psychological and the cosmological treatment this philosophy -develops a noölogical treatment, and sees the central domain of -philosophical research in the elucidation and unification of facts -which, in the construction of a spiritual world in the province of man, -appear in the whole and in every branch. In this connection the -conception of fact is something more ultimate and universal in its -relations; but it is just that which makes it more valuable for the -conviction as a whole. - -This conception of its task will bring philosophy into a closer relation -with personal life, as well as with the work of history, without making -it the mere instrument either of the one or the other. Otherwise it -would seem irrational, and a tendency from which one must free oneself -as much as possible, that in philosophy, personality, not only in -creative activity but also in appropriation, signifies so much. The -object, on the contrary, acquires a positive value, if we are certain -that the standard of life is ultimately also the standard of knowledge; -if with this the degree of the development of life at a particular point -necessarily decides the nature of the work of thought there achieved. -The near relation of the thinker to the proximate and the more distant -culture environment is explained from this position in a manner no less -satisfactory: the relation can then remain close, even if in the first -place it appears to be one of conflict and opposition. Similarly, the -whole movement of history acquires a greater significance for knowledge; -far-reaching changes of life transform the temporal situation, since -they permit us to experience, see, and seek something else; all these -changes, however, demand from thought an attention to and an -appreciation of the whole. Nothing other than this is involved in the -requirement that thought must correspond with the historical state of -spiritual evolution. - -This acknowledgment of personal and of historical life by philosophy -makes it intelligible why philosophy manifests so much diversity and -opposition, and why on the surface it shows so little unity. Where the -conviction of an independent spiritual life rules, the faith in a unity -of truth can be shaken by this fact just as little as the courage to -creative activity can be paralysed. The basing of thought upon the -spiritual life also has the advantage that the main types of thought can -be derived from the different positions which may be taken up towards -the spiritual life, and thus a limit may be set to the otherwise -indefinite abundance. From this point of view there are for us five -chief types of thought and world-conception. Minds first divide on the -question whether we can unify life at all, and at the same time whether -we may venture to make an assertion concerning reality as a whole. He -who rejects this as impossible and readily surrenders himself to the -conflict of immediate impressions might be called an indifferentist. If, -however, a striving towards unity is admitted, then the question whether -a spiritual life with a reality and values of its own in contrast with -nature may be acknowledged or not becomes the point of decision, and the -basis of division into opposing camps. He who gives a negative answer to -the question, and regards nature as the whole of reality, becomes an -advocate of Naturalism. He, however, who answers in the affirmative, and -may be called an idealist, is immediately confronted with a new problem. -He cannot acknowledge the spiritual life without at the same time giving -it the supremacy; but now the doubt arises whether this supremacy may be -easily and peacefully established, or whether it meets with strong -opposition. When the existence of these oppositions is denied, or they -are regarded as being easy to overcome, there grows up an optimistic, -contemplative form of Idealism, which to the holders of other forms -inevitably seems abstract and shallow. If, on the contrary, the -oppositions are fully acknowledged, the final division originates with -the question whether finally we are to submit to the state of stagnation -brought about by these oppositions, or whether by some kind of -reinforcement of the counteraction to this state of stagnation life may -once more be set in progress: the former gives rise to Scepticism and -Pessimism, the latter to Activism, as it has been discussed by us in an -earlier section. It is easy to see what distinctive lines of conflict -and what kinds of conflict must arise between the indifferentist, the -naturalistic thinker, the optimist, the sceptic, and the activist. -However, we cannot allow this to detain us; it must, nevertheless, be -pointed out here, that in philosophy the possibilities are not yet -exhausted, and that to avail ourselves of these possibilities nothing is -more necessary than a close relation of its work with the life-process, -and a firmer grounding in the independent spiritual life. - - -(c) ART AND LITERATURE - -Nowhere does modern life throb more violently and more strongly than in -art and literature. That which in this department has a claim to -permanence acquires especial power from the fact that this department -had to establish itself anew in opposition to an attempt to curtail it. -For who could deny that a culture of work and of utility had a tendency -to reduce artistic literary creation to the position of an accompaniment -and a fringe of another kind of life, to a diversion for idle hours? The -more we feel the limitations of the life of work and utility the more do -art and literature become independent tasks. From art and literature we -expect more lightness, more agility, and more joy in life; they should -conduct life from too great an attention to externals to -self-consciousness, and in this way give life a soul. They should -strengthen individuality in opposition to the levelling tendency of the -culture of the masses, wrest simple fundamentals from chaotic confusion -of life, and aid the time in reaching a comprehensive vital-feeling and -a synthesis transcending its inconsistencies. In opposition to that -which oppresses us and degrades us to instruments of a meaningless -machinery, we desire some kind of province where life rests in itself -and purposes nothing else but itself; where it springs up with complete -spontaneity; and where it can express itself with complete freedom, and -in this expression find its highest joy. - -From such a longing a new art that permeates our life has arisen. Art -must seek new means of expression for the new situation; it cannot serve -the development of a new life-content without bringing about liberation -from all conventional statutes; it cannot prevent a threatened tendency -of life to become stagnant without desiring a fully free place for the -subject, and for the development of his individuality. He who sees -chiefly the dangers in everything forgets that nothing new and great can -arise without bringing dangers with it. - -From the point of view of the system that we champion, we can quite well -understand the significance of the æsthetic movement of the present, -acknowledge the deliverance of life which it has accomplished, and in -general we can go a good distance with it. But there comes a point where -the courses diverge; not because we think less of the capacity of art, -but we believe that we think more highly of its task. This deliverance -from the culture of work, this turning to individuality, promises an -essential elevation of life only if a new kind of being, a new world, is -able to break forth in the soul that depends upon itself; if the -individual in his conflicts aids the development of the infinite life; -if, through all transformations and prostrations, man wins an inner -relation to the whole and to things, and by this grows beyond the -narrowly human. - -If this does not come to pass, the movement remains on the surface of -sense experience and related to the activity and occupation of mere man; -and so it cannot make anything higher or essentially new of us; it -remains subject to the oppositions of the age instead of becoming -superior to them. We are, indeed, enriched by the most diverse forms of -expression: even the most concealed circumstances, the most delicate -pulsations of the soul, cannot withdraw themselves from being -represented. None the less, the description of the world-environment -acquires the most striking clearness and penetration, and in the -incalculable wealth of individual forms of art virtuosi are not lacking -at whose capacity of execution we are astonished. But all this gives to -art no spiritual content and no real greatness. It can, indeed, bring an -inexhaustible abundance of stimuli to bear upon individuals and spread a -shiny gloss over existence and life, but it cannot raise life -essentially. The care of the mere individual, with his changing -circumstances, prevents art from taking up sufficiently the problems of -the present situation as a whole; of the spiritual condition of humanity -as a whole. - -And so art in this form is not able to grasp the epoch with its -spiritual movement as a whole, and to further humanity in the struggle -for spiritual existence, in which to-day all individual problems are -included. Humanity is in a serious crisis; the old foundations of life -are about to give way, and the new are not yet secured. The world has -rejected the standards which man had imposed upon it; it turns against -him, and leaves him nothing more in particular. To be assured of a -distinctive significance man needs a strengthening, and at the same time -an aroused reflection forbids him all help from outside. The fact that -that which is hostile and threatens to degrade and to annihilate man -takes possession of his own province of life and penetrates into it -gives a particular acuteness to these problems. We are not only -surrounded externally by a dark fate, but our soul also degenerates in -it, and becomes more and more a soulless mechanism. Indeed, our own -activity becomes the most dangerous opponent of the soul, since in -forming and taking part in complexes of work which ever become greater -it turns against us and takes the soul from the soul. - -An art which has its basis in the individual and which does not advance -to spiritual substance cannot possibly prevent the threatened -dissolution of life. Even the most wonderful expression of disposition, -even the most delicate and most fluid representations of conditions, do -not free us from the chaos of the time: they might easily bind us still -more strongly to it, since they weaken the power, indeed the tendency to -energetic concentration, and increase the tendency to degenerate into a -state of weakness and decay; while to overcome these dangers it is -necessary primarily to increase our activity, to win again an active -relation to reality. Art cannot free itself from that condition of -feebleness without entering into a close relation with the central task -of life and acknowledging a spirituality transcending the subjective -circumstances and interests of mere man. If these requirements are not -satisfied, no talent can prevent a decline of art into a more refined -Epicureanism. - -But where such a spiritual life is acknowledged, and at the same time -there arises the task of winning for man a new life, a new spiritual -reality, art inevitably acquires a great significance, and becomes -absolutely indispensable. Without the liberation which it brings, and -its presentation of things in a harmony, how could a whole with definite -character be raised? How could the new that hovers before us acquire -form and exert a penetrating power without the help of a constructive -imagination which precedes its realisation? How could the soul's -innermost experience permeate life as a whole, and ennoble its whole -structure without the help of art? The higher we place the ideal of -life, the more does the spiritual content which immediate existence -manifests become a mere sense form, the more is æsthetic activity -necessary to prevent disunion of life, in the midst of all oppositions -to give it some kind of unity, and in the midst of the passion of -conflict some rest within itself. But, to achieve this, art may not -purpose to form an oasis in a wilderness of life, but, hand-in-hand with -other activities, must fight for spiritual experience and a genuine -meaning of life as a whole. - - -(d) POLITICAL AND SOCIAL LIFE - -To treat of the complicated problems of the political and social life of -the present does not come within our purpose; we can consider them only -so far as the task of the construction of an independent spiritual world -is affected either for good or evil by the nature of their solution. - -In contrast to the epoch of the Enlightenment, the nineteenth century -brought about a transition from the individual to society: social life -has developed in numerous branches, has disclosed a superabundance of -new facts, and has set us new tasks. But this development has also -brought much perplexity with it. It becomes evident in this development -also, that each spiritual movement that attains power experiences in its -further course limitations, and is degraded by its contact with human -conditions. Along with the social movement there has been the -often-discussed change by which life from being centred in an invisible -world becomes occupied with the visible one, and by which all -departments of life are given a naturalistic, realistic character and -tendency. There has been no lack of opposition to the movement to make -society the first consideration; the opposition has gone even so far as -to dispute the right of the whole. Further, the earlier and the later -conception of society, the idealistic and the realistic, are often -confused; and from this confusion contradictions arise that not only -confuse our ideas but also degrade our life. There is a danger that a -zealous and excited occupation with nothing but individual tasks may -take our attention from the whole, and that the problems which the inner -condition of man involves may not obtain due consideration. - -This turning to society is most manifest in the powerful advance of the -state. In this, an inner longing for a more social life, as Hegel -especially philosophically advocated it; and actual changes of -conditions operated together, and strengthened one another. The more -definite manifestation of individuality on the part of nations and the -sharper division between them; the active interest of wider circles in -political problems; the mechanical organisation of work, with its more -exact differentiation and its more rigid organisation of forces; but -primarily the longing, which grows out of the ceaselessly increasing -economical and social perplexities, for a power superior to the parties -in dispute and acting as arbitrator--all these have immeasurably -increased the power of the state in different degrees among different -peoples, but in general through the whole civilised world. - -The freedom of the individual, therefore, cannot but suffer from -manifold limitations; there arises a danger that the individual may -gradually lose all initiative, and expect all stimulation from the -state. The spontaneity and the wealth of life suffer from the tendency -to increase the power of the state, and a bureaucracy which delights in -correct forms, but which spiritually is entirely unproductive, indeed -even indifferent, appropriates more and more to itself. The substance of -the spiritual life is also threatened by the fact that the omnipotent -state is inclined to treat that life, with all its branches, as a mere -means in the attainment of its own particular aims; to look upon science -and art, and chiefly religion and education, especially with regard to -that which they achieve for the aims of the state, and to shape them as -much as possible in accordance with these aims. There is also a strong -tendency to follow the same course to accomplish the ends of the -contemporary form of government. An independent and genuine spiritual -life can hardly offer too great an opposition to such a perversion, -with its deification of human forms. But the matter is by no means -simple; for not the will of single individuals and parties, but the -whole tendency of modern life has given this power to the state; indeed, -on the economic side the state will soon experience a further increase -of power. The more the guidance on this side belongs to the state, the -more necessary is a free movement of spiritual culture in opposition to -it; the more urgent is the demand that the amalgamation of church and -state should be discontinued--an amalgamation which, by the growing -disputes that arise from it, forces religion into an undignified -position; the more definitely is a greater independence to be desired -for school organisation in all its branches. The Germans especially have -much to do in this matter; and there is much at stake. For, with the -limitations of our spatial extension, we can be a permanent determining -factor in world-culture only by giving our culture the greatest -intensity; but this requires a calling forth of the complete power and -of the spontaneity of individuals. Ultimately, in this matter also, the -chief thing proves to be the taking up again of central problems and the -realisation of human being in its innermost depths as an unconditional -end in itself and the bearer of an infinite life. No conception can -guard us from sinking to the position of puppets of the soulless -mechanism of the state, if we do not find the power to give soul to our -life and to maintain it against all attempted limitation. - -The longing for more freedom and independence has therefore an -indisputable validity. But this acknowledgment may easily lead to new -complications by freedom and independence being conceived in a manner -much too external, and also by a really questionable association of -these ideas with the problem of equality. The conviction of the modern -man concerning the world on the one hand, and the demands of life on the -other, are often in direct contradiction with regard to the conception -of equality. We become aware of our limitation on all sides: we are -represented simply as a product of heredity and environment: all -possibility of making a decision for ourselves is rejected as a -delusion. If thus we are deprived of all independence and all -spontaneity of life, then even in social life we shall become mere -bearers of a _rôle_ imposed upon us by a dark fate. One does not see how -freedom could retain a value, arouse enthusiasm, and lead to sacrifice -in such a case. If the whole is a soulless mechanism, in which only the -excess of existent power is the cause of decisions, then we ourselves -cannot be exceptions. - -Other complications have their origin in the democratic tendency which -permeates not only our political endeavour but also our whole life of -culture. How far-reaching a change, indeed how complete a revolution, -has been accomplished by this tendency in opposition to a condition of -things which has stood for hundreds or rather thousands of years, is but -seldom fully appreciated. In the earlier form of social life spiritual -work was the chief matter only of a limited and exclusive circle; to the -people as a whole it was only secondary, and the benefit that they -received from it was often of the most meagre character. Even the -Reformation left this aristocratic form of life as it was; for as -certainly as it made the care for every individual member of the church -more urgent, that care was bestowed from above in an authoritative -manner. The earlier Enlightenment, as it was represented, for example, -by Bayle, was of the conviction that the deliverance from delusion and -superstition would always be limited to a small circle of those standing -spiritually high, and would never reach the masses. We know how this has -changed; how the masses are determined to form a mere dependent body of -the so-called higher classes no longer, but to take the problem of life -independently into their own hands, and how they obtain their -representation of the world and the task of their life from that which -is more immediately present to them and directly concerns their welfare; -and how in this way they are inclined to look upon themselves as the -whole of humanity. We have already referred to the danger that culture -as a whole will thus be made shallow--a danger that arises from the fact -that here the decision is made by those who scarcely participate in the -work of history, and who depend almost entirely upon the immediate -impression. Further, we have already contended that only a -simplification and rejuvenation of culture are able to cope with this -danger. The fact is important that this democratic movement appeals to -the equality of all who bear human features. Here again there appears to -be a direct contradiction between theoretical conviction and actual -conditions. Experience everywhere shows a pronounced inequality among -men; it shows this not only in the traditional social relationships but -also in the organisation of modern industry. More, however, than all -social arrangements, nature shows the greatest inequality amongst men; -and the actual relation of individuals in work and idleness, in love and -hate, in independent thinking and blind subordination shows it none the -less. From the point of view of experience the idea of equality seems to -be an empty phrase. If it is more than this, if we recognise in it a -truth that we cannot afford to lose, then it implies the conviction that -humanity has spiritual relations; that each has a significance in a -spiritual nature, and that there is a universal life present everywhere -which opposes the guilt and folly of the individual and even in spite of -himself gives him a value. Thus we have seen that in history, religion -and ideal culture were the first to bring the idea of equality into good -repute. But to-day the champions of equality turn with particular -keenness against religion and ideal culture, and are not aware that in -so doing they are destroying the foundations of their own belief. - -These inconsistencies are not felt, chiefly because of the power which -abstractions usually exercise over men in the present day. A faith in -abstractions reigns amongst us which is capable of far greater things -than faith in religion or faith in reason. We are surrounded by the -bustle of a fierce and ceaselessly increasing struggle for existence: -ideas are overgrown by interests; the motives of people in general are -trivial, and all spiritual aspiration is feeble, and along with this -there is an unutterable amount of pretence which permeates and distorts -all conduct. Yet the disagreeable aspect of this condition seems to -vanish as soon as the mere word "humanity" is mentioned. But what is -humanity from the point of view of Naturalism other than a collection of -beings of nature? How can a power to elevate and to strengthen proceed -from this conception, which in the naturalistic context signifies no -more than the subjective unification of the individuals? Or, again, the -idea of a ceaseless progress of humanity is placed in opposition to the -confusions which exist in the present. But how can this idea be -established if a compelling reason is not active within man? How could -the present be so incomplete and so full of perplexity as it seems, -especially to the advocates of the idea of progress, if century after -century had made progress upon progress? Rather, if man has such a noble -nature as he is assumed to have, life should be full of reason and -bliss. The old faith saved man by resorting to an invisible world; it -required a firm confidence in that which one did not see. The new faith, -which denies an invisible world, desires more: it desires that we should -be convinced of the direct opposite of that which we see and comprehend. -These considerations in no way signify a depreciation on our part of the -effort to attain freedom and equality--an effort that has an -indisputable validity. But this validity must be based upon a whole of -life and be more definitely determined, otherwise the effort is stifled -by the inconsistencies in which the conceptions of freedom and equality -are involved in the minds of their advocates. - -The independence of the individual and the spontaneity of the spiritual -life are endangered not only by the mechanism of a bureaucracy -indifferent to spiritual values but also none the less by the movements -of the masses, which in modern life in particular surround and browbeat -the individual. The man of the present day often believes that he has -gained freedom when in reality he has only changed the nature of his -dependence. What makes the movements of the masses, with their so-called -public opinion, so irksome is the falsehood that is generally contained -in this opinion, which is presented as proceeding from the experience -and decision of a great majority, and therefore as having a definite -presupposition of truth. The fact, as a rule, is that a few venture an -assertion and urge it upon the others with unobserved compulsion, since -they proclaim as already existent the agreement that they are only -seeking. Of course sometimes there is much more in public opinion; it -may be the expression of a spiritual necessity which subjects to itself -the dispositions of men. Whether public opinion is to be an interpreter -of truth or a mere product of man remains to be decided; and this -decision can rest only with the individual. He will be equal to making -this decision if he possesses a spiritual experience, and has in this a -touchstone by which to distinguish the genuine from the false. - -Philosophy can maintain the rights of the individual only so far as he -is rooted in spiritual relationships and derives power from them; it -must absolutely oppose all glorification of the natural, spiritually -destitute individual. We find such a glorification to-day more -especially in that which, with particular emphasis, is called "modern" -morality, but which in fact threatens rather to be a complete negation -of morality; even though this negation is against the intentions of its -advocates, mostly women, who display great enthusiasm for this "modern" -morality. It seems as though life is limited and degraded because -society, particularly in the matter of the sexual life, prescribes rigid -statutes which, if they were not irrational at the beginning, have -nevertheless become irrational, and tend to brand the right as wrong and -the wrong as right. The shaking off of these restrictions and of the -pressure of society in general seems to promise a form of life -incomparably more powerful, sincere, and individual: this life is also -to offer more beauty, for to-day generally the idea of beauty is -emphasised with great partiality where life has no clear ideas and no -significant content. - -This criticism of the statutes of society is not entirely without -reason. Such statutes do not in themselves constitute a morality, as it -is easy to imagine they do; but they only advocate a morality; as life -undergoes such far-reaching changes, these statutes must continually be -examined anew as to their validity and value. But this relativity does -not make them worthless, and does not justify their complete rejection -in favour of an absolute freedom on the part of individuals. We could -expect an elevation of life by such an effort for freedom only if we -might assume that the individuals are thoroughly noble, energetic, and -spiritually rich, and if in the relations between the sexes a state of -paradisiacal innocence reigned which only the evil arrangements of -society had disturbed. But this is a way of thinking which does more -honour to the hearts than to the heads of its advocates. He who takes -men as they really are and does not paint them in romantic colours, and -who at the same time recognises the dangers of a highly developed, -pleasure-seeking, and over-refined state of culture, will not despise -those social arrangements, notwithstanding their relativity, but value -them as an indispensable safeguard against the selfishness, the greed -for pleasure, and the instability of the mere individual--a safeguard -not only against the tyranny of externals but also for the individual -against himself. It is unfortunate enough that such safeguards are -necessary; but, as they are necessary, it is better to preserve and -improve them as much as possible than to reject them, and to expose -humanity to dangers that might throw it back into the condition of the -animals. Man is not better because he is painted more beautifully; -rather Pascal is right when he says: "L'homme n'est ni ange ni bête, et -le malheur veut, que qui veut faire l'ange fait la bête." - -The tendency to think that man may be transformed inwardly and the whole -condition of life raised by changes in external organisation is most -definitely felt in the social movements of the age. In this there is a -clearly marked opposition to the earlier mode of thought, which, placing -a low estimate upon everything external, and finding greatness too -easily in disposition, overlooked how much the organisation of the -conditions of life means for men in whom the spiritual is only in -process of development; and, further, failed to notice that there is -also a strong movement from external to internal. Nevertheless, the fact -cannot be denied, notwithstanding all this, that the problems of the -whole and of man's inner nature require to be treated as of chief -importance. Otherwise, as Aristotle suggested, notwithstanding all the -alteration of conditions, the old problems will continually make their -appearance anew, and the substance of life might easily suffer from that -which was intended to improve its condition. - -In conclusion, we may briefly consider the problems that have been -raised in the nineteenth century by the increased emphasis on the idea -of nationality. Influences of an idealistic nature first raised the -cultivation and establishment of a particular national character to the -position of a matter of the greatest importance. This character appeared -to be an extremely valuable form of individualisation of the spiritual -life, a form in which that life attains to concreteness and greater -definiteness and penetration. The co-existence of these individual -nationalities gave promise of an incomparably richer formation of the -life of humanity as a whole: the inner development of their peculiar -natures, and their lofty rivalry, also promised to bring a wealth of -arousing and elevating motives. The nineteenth century has, indeed, won -an incalculable amount through this movement; to take up an abstract -cosmopolitanism again would be decidedly retrograde. - -But the more the idea of nationality has been brought from its high -place in the realm of thought to the domain of human circumstance, the -more has it been debased and the more dangers has it produced. If -previously the cultivation of an ideal type of life was most prominent, -and if the nations could thus permit one another to follow their own -courses peacefully, this has become less and less the case in face of -the desire and effort for power and expansion in the visible world; and -owing to the narrowness of physical space occupied by the nations, the -different strivings have clashed together more and more severely. If -this tendency continues without the counteraction of an inner task -common to humanity as a whole, and of unifying and elevating ideas, it -is hardly possible to avoid mutual hostility, a degeneration into -obstinacy and injustice. The idea of nationality may therefore become a -danger to the ethical character of life. This is the case if, by milder -or by severer means, one nation tries to force its own character and -speech upon another. The mode of thought based on the old _cujus regio -ejus natio_ is in no way better than that based on the old _cujus regio -ejus religio_, which we are now accustomed to regard with contempt as a -piece of barbarism. The desire for external power at the same time tends -to lessen the attention to the inner development and unification of -nationality, without which ultimately little progress can be made in the -development of power. It is through a common national character, with -its unification of the feelings and efforts of the individuals, that a -people is first elevated into a genuine nation; it is a character such -as this that gives to a people a power of influencing humanity as a -whole; it is a character such as this that gives to the individuals the -consciousness of being "members one of another," and with this a -stability and a joy in life and activity. Such a national character -necessitates certain natural conditions, that are like the veins in -marble which prescribe a certain direction to the work of the artist. -But these conditions must first be organised and by the complete -elevation of their nature spiritually unified; and this cannot be -achieved otherwise than through our own work, which through common -events and experiences follows its ideal. So far, therefore, national -character is not a gift of nature but a task which presents itself -distinctively to each people according to its nature and conditions. In -this matter a people must always in the first place realise a unity in -its own nature. - -In the fulfilment of this task hardly any other people has had to -contend with keener opposition, both external and internal, than the -Germans. Our physical environment does not direct us so definitely into -distinctive paths as is the case with other peoples. But our inner -nature contains, before all else, harsh antitheses. Our strength lies -chiefly in arousing to life depths of the soul otherwise undreamt of. -Thus in music and in poetry we have been able to surpass all other -peoples; again, we have been able to give to religion a wonderful -inwardness, and in education to evolve the leading ideas. At the same -time, however, we are driven to the physical world to take possession of -and to shape things; we are not the Hindus of Europe, as other people -indeed previously called us. We came into history by achievements in -war, and the desire for conflict and victory has been maintained through -all the phases of our varied history. By the continued diligence of our -citizens in work we have subordinated the world around us to our aims; -our capacity for organisation has been most marked, as the present state -of industry and trade shows. However, not only have these movements -towards inwardness, and towards the world, a strong tendency to oppose -one another, but also, in contrast with these magnificent gifts, there -are many defects and tendencies that make the development of a powerful -and unified life exceedingly difficult. We show a want of form and -taste, a heaviness and formality, a tendency to occupation with detail -and, in general, with what is petty in life, and, as a result of this, -an uncultured "Philistinism" in all spheres of society, and along with -this the inclination on the part of individuals to insist on the -correctness of their positions, and thus to cause division; finally--and -this is the worst of all--much envy and jealousy. None of these features -can be denied. There is an infinite amount which must be altered and -overcome amongst us if we are to become what we are capable of becoming, -and if we are to reach the highest in our nature. The limitations that -have been brought about by our history, which on the whole has not been -a happy one, constitute an important determining factor in this matter. -The more problems we bear within us, the more possibilities of genuine -creation that exist within us, and the more we may be to humanity in the -future, the more painful is it if attention and activity are diverted -from the chief task, and if an externalising of the idea of nationality -allows us to consider ourselves great rather than lead us to strive for -true greatness. The people that has produced Luther and Bach, Kant and -Goethe, cannot be devoid of true greatness, if it only remains faithful -to its own nature, and if it concentrates its power and treats the chief -thing really as such. - - -(e) THE LIFE OF THE INDIVIDUAL - -The problems and antitheses that are to be found in the life of the -present penetrate deeply into the life of the individual, and often make -their appearance within him with a particular power. The antithesis that -exists between the conceptions of the world and the demands of life is -especially harsh. The tendency of the age is to form a conception of the -world which reduces the status of the individual in the greatest degree: -from the point of view of nature and of society, he seems to be no more -than a fleeting appearance, a matter of indifference, and to show no -independence, and never to be able to take part with spontaneous -activity in the course of events. On the other hand, the contemporary -form of life demands the greatest independence and freedom of the -individual. We see in him the chief bearer of life, and we expect -salvation from the severe perplexities of the time, primarily from his -strengthening. This state of inconsistency cannot be tolerated for long; -either the degradation of the individual, that is found in the -conceptions of the world, must be applied to life, and lead it to a -resigned submission to an impenetrable world-process, or the positive -estimate of the individual which governs conduct must be acknowledged in -the conviction concerning reality as a whole: only a weakness of -disposition and a feebleness of thought can divide our existence between -the one conviction and the other. - -The course which our investigation has taken cannot leave any possible -doubt as to the direction which our conviction points out to us in this -matter: however much we also demand an energetic development of the -individual, that the stagnation of the age may be overcome, at the same -time we insist upon a necessary condition of this, on his inner -strengthening by an inner world present to him, on his elevation by a -spirituality transcending nature. Only if he thus acquires an inner -relation to infinity, and becomes an independent centre of life, can he -satisfy the demands that are generally made upon him, and, remarkably -enough, especially by those who theoretically deny the inner world as a -whole, and hail a most shallow Naturalism as a deliverance. - -Of course that inner elevation of the individual by no means lifts him -gently and simply out of all the confusion that the experience of our -existence shows; at the first glance it may even seem to make the -confusion greater. For, if each individual can become a co-operator in -the building up of a new world, and if his activity thereby acquires a -value for the whole, then the complete indifference with which, -according to our human impression, the individual is treated by the -course of the physical world, the inflexibility and injustice that he -often experiences in this world, the defect of love and justice in this -world, in which the bad so often obtain the victory and the good are led -to destruction, are all the greater mystery. The more the development of -the spiritual life widens the field of vision; the more it leads us -beyond a lifeless resignation to the question of the rationality of -events and compels us to compare the destiny of one man with that of -another, the deeper must that feeling of mystery become. All attempts -at a theodicy founder on this difficulty; we must inevitably submit to -the view that with regard to this problem all is obscure to the eyes of -man. There is, however, no need on this account to doubt and to regard -our life as hopeless; our investigation also has shown this. For, in -contrast with the obscurity of the world around us, we are able to set -the fact of the emergence of a new world within us. Great things take -place within us; not only does a new world appear, but we are called by -an inner necessity of our own being to co-operate in its development, -and this co-operation is not limited to individual activities, but -involves our being as a whole. For it was just in this that we were able -to recognise the development of being as the essence of the spiritual -life--that the chief movement of our life is to win a genuine being, and -that in the development of personality and spiritual individuality such -a being is in question. We saw clearly enough that we are not -personalities and individuals from the beginning; but that nature gives -us only the possibility of becoming this. To realise this possibility -our own activity is necessary; and this activity is not a sudden -resolution, but requires a revolution of our being and the development -of a new nature; and this can only be achieved by a faithful and zealous -life-work, and even then only approximately. Thus life as a whole is a -task which includes all multiplicity within it, the task of winning our -own being completely, and just in this way to increase the kingdom of -the spirit at our point. - -This task cannot be completely recognised and adopted without making a -great divergence from the aim, harsh oppositions and difficult -conflicts, manifest in the inner recesses of the soul. If our life, -therefore, appears to be in the highest degree incomplete, a mere -beginning, then this increase of the task demonstrates more than -anything else that, in this matter, we are concerned not with phantoms -and imaginations, but with realities: so here, notwithstanding all our -incompleteness, we can obtain the certainty of a spiritual existence, -and even become strengthened by the direct resistance of the external -world, because that world is henceforth reduced to the secondary -position. Thus, as we saw, the question upon which minds separate into -irreconcilable opposition is whether they acknowledge in the inwardness -of being itself not merely individual problems but a universal task; if -this is the case, the seriousness of the task will give to them an -unshakable stability of possession and a security superior to all -attacks; if it is not the case, the spiritual world is an unintelligible -paradox, because the want of an independent inner life means that there -is no basis for the development of an organ for the comprehension of a -world of inwardness. In this matter there is no possibility of a direct -agreement; only the proof of the spirit and of power can decide. - -But where the life of the individual acquires a genuine being and a -connection with the realm of self-consciousness, then, notwithstanding -all that is fleeting and insubstantial, the individual cannot regard -himself as a transitory appearance in the whole, even in the ultimate -basis of his being. Where, in contrast with all the meaninglessness of -mere nature and all the pretence of mere society, a movement towards -inner unity and substantial being emerges, the individual will be -elevated into a time-transcendent order, and must necessarily acquire -some position within it. The whole movement towards spirituality in the -human sphere would be vain, and all distinctively human life would be a -meaningless contradiction, if the individuals in whom alone the -spiritual life breaks forth spontaneously were included solely and -entirely in the stream of the process of nature. If the spiritual life -has once revealed itself to us, so far as to begin an independent and -distinctive being within us, then this being will assert itself in some -way. This does not imply agreement with the usual belief in immortality, -which would preserve man just as he is through all eternity, and thus -condemn him to the torture of rigid continuance in the same form; a -state that would, indeed, be as unbearable as the pain of the -traditional hell. As the world as a whole is in the highest degree -mysterious to us, so our future is veiled in the deepest obscurity. But, -if with the essence of our being we are elevated into a universal -spiritual life, and if in the innermost basis of our life we participate -in an eternal order, then the time-transcendence of this life assures to -us also some kind of time-transcendence in our being. - - _So löst sich jene grosse Frage - Nach unserm zweiten Vaterland, - Denn das Beständige der ird'schen Tage - Verbürgt uns ewigen Bestand._ - - GOETHE - - - - -CONCLUSION - - -In conclusion a few words will suffice. The last section showed that the -present sets great problems and reveals possibilities in every -department of life; but that we men are very far from being equal to -cope with these problems. We are limited especially by the fact that we -are incapable of elevating ourselves inwardly above the present; that we -do not take possession of it sufficiently as a whole, and find an inner -independence in relation to it; and that therefore we do not enter with -the necessary vigour into the conflict against the trivial and the -poor-spirited, the decadent and the sceptical that the present contains. -To point out the way to attain such independence appeared to us to be -the chief task of philosophy in the present. In the service of this -task, which cannot be achieved without the manifestation of a new -actuality, without a fundamental deepening of our reality, we have made -our investigation, which contains a distinctive conception of the -spiritual life. In that everywhere we have pressed back from the results -to the experience, and from the wealth of achievement to the generating -basis, we have seen nature, history, culture, and human nature as a -whole in a new light. We have hoped, by widening and strengthening life -itself from within, to supply a substitute for the external supports -that life has lost. How far we have succeeded in our endeavour is -another question; we shall be satisfied even if our work only -contributes to bring the present to a clearer consciousness of the state -of spiritual crisis in which it exists and concerning the seriousness of -which it deceives itself in a thousand ways. There is an enormous amount -of vigorous activity and efficient work, of honest endeavour and serious -disposition, in our time, and the tendency to make life more spiritual -is also evident. But the movement is still far from attaining the depth -which is necessary to the chief question of our spiritual existence; -thus the conflict, instead of being between whole and whole, is divided; -that which is significant and valuable in the endeavour of the time is -in danger of becoming problematic, and of producing the opposite of what -it purposes, because it does not fit itself into a universal life, and -in this realise its limitations and at the same time its right. A more -energetic concentration of life in itself is therefore the first -condition of transcending the chaos of the life of the present and of -preventing spiritual degeneration in the midst of too intense an -occupation with externals. As for the rest, we may say with Plotinus: -"The doctrine serves to point the way and guide the traveller; the -vision, however, is for him who will see it." - - - - -INDEX - - - Abstractions; their power in modern life, 362 ff. - - Activism; profession of faith in, 255 ff.; - how it differs from a system of mere force, 255 ff.; - its ethical character, 256; - how it differs from Voluntarism and Pragmatism, 256 ff. - - Æsthetic Individualism, 61 ff. - - Æstheticism; its antithesis to Activism, 258 ff. - - Antiquity; its distinctive synthesis of life, 208 ff. - - _A priori_; its validity and its limitations, 234 - - Archimedean point in the spiritual life; its impossibility, 94 ff., 154 - - Art and literature, condition and tasks in the present, 354 ff. - - Ascetic organisation of life; rejected, 281 ff. - - - Being, development of; as a system of life, 212 ff., 314 - - - Catholicism; different tendencies in, 328 ff. - - Christianity; its unique character, 6; - the opposition to, 7 ff.; - its permanent truth, 331 ff.; - changes necessary to it, 332 ff.; - Christian and Greek forms of life, 283 ff. - - "Classical," the; its significance, 192 - - Concentration of life (within the whole), 156 ff., 160 - - Conscience; its significance, 129 ff. - - Critical character of modern work; its presuppositions, 250 ff. - - Culture, 110 ff.; - genuine and apparent, 269 ff.; - requirements of a new type, 298 ff.; - organisation of, 315 ff. - - - Democratic tendency of modern culture, 361 ff. - - Departments of life; their relation to life as a whole, 316 ff. - - Dogmatic sectarian point of view; rejected, 328 - - Duty; significance of the idea, 184 ff., 231 - - - Education; problems in the present state of, 343 ff. - - Enlightenment, the; its synthesis of life, 209 ff.; - how far problematic, 249; - relation of the present to it, 347 ff. - - Equality; problems of the present conception of, 362 - - Eternity; how far implied in the life of the individual, 372 - - Ethical character of life; how to be understood, 256, 258; - of spiritual culture, 309 ff.; - its necessity, 337 ff. - - Ethics (morality); different types in the present time, 336 ff.; - conditions of a morality, 338 ff.; - requirements of morality in a spiritual culture, 339 ff. - - Evil; the problem of, 263 ff.; - the way in which it is solved, 279 ff. - - Evolution, doctrine of; spiritual, its limitations, 194 ff., 257 ff. - - Experience; its significance for the spiritual life in man, 235 ff. - - - Freedom; its nature, 174 ff.; - its conflict with destiny, 181 ff.; - genuine and false, 323 ff.; - inconsistency in contemporary treatment of the problem, 360 ff. - - - German character; its greatness and its dangers, 317 ff., 368 ff. - - Goethe; characteristic influence, 299 - - Good, the (idea of the good); how it differs from the Useful, 119 ff.; - apparent inconsistency, 138 ff.; - more detailed determination, 185 ff. - - Great man, the; his relation to his time, 292 - - Greek and Christian forms of life, 283 ff. - - - Hegel; relation of the present to him indefinite, 348 - - Historical and social organisation of life; its limitations, 200 - - Historical Relativism; rejected, 290 ff., 323 ff. - - History; the spiritual conception of, its conditions, 188 ff.; - esoteric and exoteric history, 243 ff. - - Human life; how far it is from the spiritual life, 161 ff. - - - Idealisation, false; of immediate existence, 83 ff., 362 ff. - - Idealism and Realism; their unification in a spiritual culture, 312 ff. - - Ideas in history; their unique character, 126 ff., 188 ff. - - Imagination; indispensable in all departments of life, 239 - - Immanent Idealism, its rise and fall, 15 ff. - - Immanental treatment (from the life-process), 107 ff. - - Individual, the, and the Society; problems of their relation, 364 ff. - - Individual, the; his significance in the new relations, 246, 369 ff. - - Individual, life of the; its form in the new system, 369 ff. - - Individuality (spiritual); as a problem, 132 ff., 181 ff., 370 - - Instruction; problems in the present time with reference to, 343 ff. - - Inwardness; its attainment of independence in man, 123 ff., 146 ff.; - as the inner life of reality, 148 ff.; - inwardness and the inner world, 303 - - Irrationality, of existence; in what manner overcome, 279 - - - Kant; inconsistency in the relation to him in the present time, 348 - - Knowledge; its form in the new system, 351 - - - Life; its detachment from the mere individual, 119 ff.; - the two movements in it, 282 ff. - - Life-process; as the fundamental principle of investigation, 104 ff., - 305 ff., 349 ff. - - Life's attainment of greatness, 240 ff. - - Life-work; its significance in acquiring stability, 253 - - Love; as a witness to the union with the whole, 231 - - - Man; as a being of nature, 110 ff.; - growing beyond nature, 113 ff.; - his union with the whole, 226 ff. - - Masses, the culture of the; its problems, 89 ff. - - Mass-movements; their dangers and limitations, 363 ff. - - Metaphysic; in what sense necessary, 141 ff. - - "Modern," the; double meaning, 296 - - Modern Age, the (in a broad sense); the characteristic in its nature, - 9 ff. - - "Modern" Morality; discussed and rejected, 364 ff. - - Movement, of the spiritual life in man; its uniqueness, 233 ff.; - its increase in the new system of life, 247 ff. - - Mysticism; in what sense justifiable, 246 - - - National Character, 198, 367 ff. - - Nationality, the idea of; its problems, 366 ff. - - Naturalism; its significance and its limitations, 24 ff. - - Nature and Spirit, 270 ff. - - Negation; impossibility of an absolute, 267 ff. - - Newer Systems of Life; what they have in common, 22 ff., 81 ff. - - Noölogical Method; distinguished from the psychological and the - cosmological, 243, 352 - - Norms; their significance, 184 - - - Pantheism; vague character of the general conception of it, 84 - - Past; impossibility of flight to the, 93 ff. - - People and nation, 366 ff. - - Personal conviction, concerning reality as a whole; where the decision - is made, 253, 281, 311 ff., 340, 372 - - Personality; the difficulty of the conception, 95 ff.; - no mere gift of nature, 311, 370 - - Philosophy; its present position, 346 ff.; - its three main tendencies in the present time, 347 ff.; - chief demands, 349 ff. - - Philosophy of life; the conception of a, 3 ff. - - Political and social life; condition and tasks in the present time, 358 - ff. - - Present, the; difficulties of determining its extent, 289 ff. - - Protestantism; the different tendencies in it, 329 - - Public opinion; manner of its formation, 364 - - - Reality; difficulty of the conception, 84 ff.; - longing for, 159 ff.; - new conception of, 220 ff. - - Relation (fundamental), of man to reality; new, from the point of view - of the spiritual life, 152 ff. - - Religion; the system of life of, 6 ff.; - its form and its justification, 273 ff.; - its necessity in a spiritual culture, 312 ff.; - its present condition, 324; - its requirements in a spiritual culture, 330 ff.; - specific religious system of life rejected, 281 ff. - - Romanticism; its significance and its limitations, 258 ff. - - - Science; its present greatness and problems, 345 ff. - - Self-preservation, spiritual; distinguished from natural - self-preservation, 126 - - Sense; its estimate, 260 - - Simplification (in revivals), 128 - - Socialistic system; its significance and its limitations, 41 ff. - - Society; the spiritual conception of, 196 ff.; - emphasis upon society in the nineteenth century, 358 ff. - - Spiritual culture, and human culture, 308 ff. - - Spiritual life; its independence a necessity, 141 ff.; - as the fundamental principle of a new organisation of the individual - departments of life, 157 ff., 244 ff. - - Spiritual work; its relation to time, 290 ff. - - Stability in life; how won, 251 ff. - - State, the; the greater emphasis upon it in the nineteenth century, 359 - ff. - - Suffering and spiritual destitution, 314 - - Syntheses of life; in history, 207 ff. - - - Theodicy; rejected, 279 ff., 371 - - Thought; its relation to life, 108, 126 ff., 141 ff., 349 ff.; - its unique operation (in distinction from association), 125 ff. - - Time; fundamental relation of man to, 116 ff. - - Transcendent Spirituality; as the fundamental principle of religion, - 278 ff. - - Transcendental method; in what sense justifiable, 248 - - Truth, conception of; its history, 138; - new conception, 216 ff. - - - Work; its distinctive character, 122; - its power to develop, 201 ff.; - the world of work, 201 ff. - - World, conceptions of the; chief types, 353 ff. - - - - - Printed by - BALLANTYNE & COMPANY LTD - Tavistock Street Covent Garden - London - - - - - BY RUDOLF EUCKEN - - THE MEANING AND VALUE OF LIFE - - TRANSLATED BY - - LUCY JUDGE GIBSON & W. R. BOYCE GIBSON, M.A. - - SECOND EDITION - - Crown 8vo, By Post - Cloth Price 3s. 6d. net 3s. 9d. - - -FROM THE TRANSLATORS' PREFACE - -Eucken's influence as a thinker has for long been felt far beyond the -borders of his native land. Translations of his books have appeared in -many foreign languages, including French, Italian, Swedish, Finnish and -Russian. In our own country such articles on Eucken's works as have -appeared quite recently in the _Times_, the _Guardian_, and the -_Inquirer_ are significantly sympathetic and appreciative. 'It seems -likely,' writes the reviewer in the _Guardian_, 'that for the next -decade Eucken will be the leading guide for the pilgrims of thought who -walk on the Idealist Road.' - - _PRESS OPINION_ - - "There are scores of passages throughout the volume one would like to - quote--the thinking of a man of clearest vision and loftiest outlook - on the fabric of life as men are fashioning it to-day. It is a volume - for Churchmen and politicians of all shades and parties, for the - student and for the man of business, for the workshop as well--a - volume for every one who is seriously interested in the great business - of life."--_Aberdeen Journal._ - - - PUBLISHED BY - ADAM & CHARLES BLACK. 4 SOHO SQUARE. LONDON, W. - - - - - RUDOLF EUCKEN'S - - PHILOSOPHY OF LIFE - - By W. R. BOYCE GIBSON - - LECTURER IN PHILOSOPHY IN THE UNIVERSITY OF LIVERPOOL - - THIRD EDITION - - With Frontispiece Portrait of Rudolf Eucken - - Crown 8vo, By Post - Cloth Price 3s. 6d. net 3s. 9d. - - -SUMMARY OF CONTENTS - - The New Idealism: Eucken's Philosophy a Rallying-point for Idealistic - Effort - His Theory of Knowledge - His Philosophy of History - The Meaning of a Historical Fact - The Break with Aristotelianism and Aquinism - Eucken's Criticism of the Naturalistic Syntagma - The Great Alternative: Individuality or Personality - The Category of Action - Eucken's View of Revelation - The Problem of the Union of Human and Divine - The New Spiritual Immediacy - The Spiritual Life as Eucken conceives it: its Intrinsically - Oppositional Character - Eucken's Philosophy as a Philosophy of Freedom - The New Idealism as a Religious Idealism - - "No reader should fail to find pleasure in a book so full of fresh and - stimulating thought, expressed with great felicity of language." - - _The Scottish Review_ - - "It is done with just the proper combination of sympathy and - criticism."--_The British Weekly_ - - - PUBLISHED BY - ADAM & CHARLES BLACK. 4 SOHO SQUARE. LONDON, W. - - - - - -End of Project Gutenberg's Life's Basis and Life's Ideal, by Rudolf Eucken - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK LIFE'S BASIS AND LIFE'S IDEAL *** - -***** This file should be named 43719-8.txt or 43719-8.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/4/3/7/1/43719/ - -Produced by Marius Masi, Greg Bergquist and the Online -Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This -file was produced from images generously made available -by The Internet Archive/Canadian Libraries) - - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions -will be renamed. - -Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no -one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation -(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without -permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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