Now this fundamental truth, which even to-day sounds so like a paradox, is the part of my doctrine to which, in all its chief points, the empirical sciences—themselves ever eager to steer clear of all Metaphysic—have contributed just as many confirmations forcibly elicited by the irresistible cogency of truth, but which are most surprising on account of the quarter whence they proceed; and although they have certainly come to light since the publication of my chief work, it has been quite independently of it and as the years went on. Now, that it should be precisely this fundamental doctrine of mine which has thus met with confirmation, is advantageous in two respects. First, because it is the main thought upon which my system is founded; secondly, because it is the only part of my philosophy that admits of confirmation through sciences which are alien to, and independent of, it. For although the last seventeen years, during which I have been constantly occupied with this subject, have, it is true, brought me many corroborations as to other parts, such as Ethics, Æsthetics, Dianoiology; still these, by their very nature, pass at once from the sphere of actuality, whence they arise, to that of philosophy itself: so they cannot claim to be extraneous evidence, nor can they, as collected by me, have the same irrefragable, unequivocal cogency as those concerning Metaphysics proper which are given by its correlate Physics (in the wide sense of the word which the Ancients gave it). For, in pursuing its own road, Physics, i.e., Natural Science as a whole, must in all its branches finally come to a point where physical explanation ceases. Now this is precisely the Metaphysical, which Natural Science only apprehends as the impassable barrier at which it stops short and henceforth abandons its subject to Metaphysics. Kant therefore was quite right in saying: "It is evident, that the primary sources of Nature's agency must absolutely belong to the sphere of Metaphysics."[189] Physical science is wont to designate this unknown, inaccessible something, at which its investigations stop short and which is taken for granted in all its explanations, by such terms as physical force, vital force, formative principle, &c. &c., which in fact mean no more than x, y, z. Now if nevertheless, in single, propitious instances, specially acute and observant investigators succeed in casting as it were a furtive glance behind the curtain which bounds off the domain of Natural Science, and are able not only to feel it is a barrier but, in a sense, to obtain a view of its nature and thus to peep into the metaphysical region beyond; if moreover, having acquired this privilege, they explicitly designate the limit thus explored downright as that which is stated to be the true inner essence and final principle of all things by a system of Metaphysics unknown to them, which takes its reasons from a totally different sphere and, in every other respect, recognises all things merely as phenomena, i.e., as representation—then indeed the two bodies of investigators must feel like two mining engineers driving a gallery, who, having started from two points far apart and worked for some time in subterranean darkness, trusting exclusively to compass and spirit-level, suddenly to their great joy catch the sound of each other's hammers. For now indeed these investigators know, that the point so long vainly sought for has at last been reached at which Metaphysics and Physics meet—they, who were as hard to bring together as Heaven and Earth—that a reconciliation has been initiated and a connection found between these two sciences. But the philosophical system which has witnessed this triumph receives by it the strongest and most satisfactory proof possible of its own truth and accuracy. Compared with such a confirmation as this, which may, in fact, be looked upon as equivalent to proving a sum in arithmetic, the regard or disregard of a given period of time loses all importance, especially when we consider what has been the subject of interest meanwhile and find it to be—the sort of philosophy we have been treated to since Kant. The eyes of the public are gradually opening to the mystification by which it has been duped for the last forty years under the name of philosophy, and this will be more and more the case. The day of reckoning is at hand, when it will see whether all this endless scribbling and quibbling since Kant has brought to light a single truth of any kind. I may thus be dispensed from the obligation of entering here into subjects so unworthy; the more so, as I can accomplish my purpose more briefly and agreeably by narrating the following anecdote. During the carnival, Dante having lost himself in a crowd of masks, the Duke of Medici ordered him to be sought for. Those commissioned to look for him, being doubtful whether they would be able to find him, as he was himself masked, the Duke gave them a question to put to every mask they might meet who resembled Dante. It was this: "Who knows what is good?" After receiving several foolish answers, they finally met with a mask who replied: "He that knows what is bad," by which Dante was immediately recognised.[190] What is meant by this here is, that I have seen no reason to be disheartened on account of the want of sympathy of my contemporaries, since I had at the same time before my eyes the objects of their sympathy. What those authors were, posterity will see by their works; what the contemporaries were, will be seen by the reception they gave to those works. My doctrine lays no claim whatever to the name "Philosophy of the present time" which was disputed to the amusing adepts of Hegel's mystification; but it certainly does claim the title of "Philosophy of time to come:" that is, of a time when people will no longer content themselves with a mere jingle of words without meaning, with empty phrases and trivial parallelisms, but will exact real contents and serious disclosures from philosophy, while, on the other hand, they will exempt it from the unjust and preposterous obligation of paraphrasing the national religion for the time being. "For it is an extremely absurd thing," says Kant,[191] "to expect to be enlightened by Reason and yet to prescribe to her beforehand on which side she must incline."—It is indeed sad to live in an age so degenerate, that it should be necessary to appeal to the authority of a great man to attest so obvious a truth. But it is absurd to expect marvels from a philosophy that is chained up, and particularly amusing to watch the solemn gravity with which it sets to work to accomplish great things, when we all know beforehand "the short meaning of the long speech."[192] However the keen-sighted assert that under the cloak of philosophy they can mostly detect theology holding forth for the edification of students thirsting after truth, and instructing them after its own fashion;—and this again reminds us forcibly of a certain favourite scene in Faust. Others, who think that they see still further into the matter, maintain that what is thus disguised is neither theology nor philosophy, but simply a poor devil who, while solemnly protesting that he has lofty, sublime truth for his aim, is in fact only striving to get bread for himself and for his future young family. This he might no doubt obtain by other means with less labour and more dignity; meanwhile however for this price he is ready to do anything he is asked to do, even to deduce à priori, nay, should it come to the worst, to perceive, the 'Devil and his dam,' by intellectual intuition—and here indeed the exceedingly comical effect is brought to a climax by the contrast between the sublimity of the ostensible, and the lowliness of the real, aim. It remains nevertheless desirable, that the pure, sacred precincts of philosophy should be cleansed of all such traders, as was the temple of Jerusalem in former times of the buyers and sellers.—Biding such better times therefore, may our philosophical public bestow its attention and interest as it has done hitherto. May it continue as before invariably naming Fichte as an obligato accompaniment to, and in the same breath with, Kant—that great mind, produced but once by Nature, which has illumined its own depth—as if forsooth they were of the same kind; and this without a single voice being heard to exclaim in protest Ἡρακλῆς καὶ πίθηκος! May Hegel's philosophy of absolute nonsense—three-fourths cash and one-fourth crazy fancies—continue to pass for unfathomable wisdom without anyone suggesting as an appropriate motto for his writings Shakespeare's words: "Such stuff as madmen tongue and brain not," or, as an emblematical vignette, the cuttle-fish with its ink-bag, creating a cloud of darkness around it to prevent people from seeing what it is, with the device: mea caligine tutus.—May each day bring us, as hitherto, new systems adapted for University purposes, entirely made up of words and phrases and in a learned jargon besides, which allows people to talk whole days without saying anything; and may these delights never be disturbed by the Arabian proverb: "I hear the clappering of the mill, but I see no flour."—For all this is in accordance with the age and must have its course. In all times some such thing occupies the contemporary public more or less noisily; then it dies off so completely, vanishes so entirely, without leaving a trace behind, that the next generation no longer knows what it was. Truth can bide its time, for it has a long life before it. Whatever is genuine and seriously meant, is always slow to make its way and certainly attains its end almost miraculously; for on its first appearance it as a rule meets with a cool, if not ungracious, reception: and this for exactly the same reason that, when once it is fully recognised and has passed on to posterity, the immense majority of men take it on credit, in order to avoid compromising themselves, whereas the number of genuine appreciators remains nearly as small as it was at first. These few nevertheless suffice to make the truth respected, for they are themselves respected. And thus it is passed from hand to hand through centuries over the heads of the inept multitude: so hard is the existence of mankind's best inheritance!—On the other hand, if truth had to crave permission to be true from such as have quite different aims at heart, its cause might indeed be given up for lost; for then it might often be dismissed with the witches' watch-word: "fair is foul, and foul is fair." Luckily however this is not the case. Truth depends upon no one's favour or disfavour, nor does it ask anyone's leave: it stands upon its own feet, and has Time for its ally; its power is irresistible, its life indestructible.
PHYSIOLOGY AND PATHOLOGY.
In classifying the above-mentioned empirical corroborations of my doctrine according to the sciences from which they come, while I take the graduated order of Nature from the highest to the lowest degree as a guiding-thread to my expositions, I must first mention a very striking confirmation lately received by my chief dogma in the physiological and pathological views of Dr. J. D. Brandis, private physician to the King of Denmark, a veteran in science, whose "Essay on Vital Force" (1795) had received Reil's hearty commendation. In his two latest writings: "Experiences in the Application of Cold in Disease" (Berlin, 1833), and "Nosology and Therapeutics of Cachexiæ" (1834), we find him in the most emphatic and striking manner stating the primary source of all vital functions to be an unconscious will, from which he derives all processes in the machinery of the organism, in health as well as in disease, and which he represents as the primum mobile of life. I must support this by literal quotations from these essays, since few save medical readers are likely to have them at hand.
In the first of them, p. viii., we find: "The essence of every living organism consists in the will to maintain its own existence as much as possible over against the macrocosm;"—p. x.: "Only one living entity, one will can be in an organ at the same time; therefore if there is a diseased will in disagreement with the rest of the body in the organ of the skin, we may hold it in check by applying cold as long as the generation of warmth, a normal will, can be induced by it." P. 1: "If we are forced to the conviction that there must be a determining principle—a will, in every vital action, by which the development suited to the whole organism is occasioned, and each metamorphosis of the parts conditioned, in harmony with the whole individuality, and likewise that there is a something capable of being determined and developed," &c. &c.—P. 11: "With respect to individual life, the element which determines, the organic will, if it is to rest satisfied, must be able to attain what it wants from that which has to be determined. This occurs even when the vital movements are over-excited, as in inflammation: something new is formed, the noxious element is expelled; new plastic materials are meanwhile conveyed through the arteries, more venous blood is carried off, until the process of inflammation is finished and the organic will satisfied. It is however possible to excite this will to such a degree, as to make satisfaction impossible. This exciting cause (or stimulus) either acts directly upon the particular organ (poison, contagion) or it affects the whole life; and this life then begins to make the most strenuous efforts to rid itself of the noxious element or to modify the disposition of the organic will, and provokes critical vital activity in particular parts (inflammations) or yields to the unappeased will."—P. 12: "The insatiable will acts destructively upon the organism unless either (a) the whole life, in its efforts to attain unity (tendency to adapt means to end), produces other activities requiring satisfaction (crises et lyses) which hold that will in check—called decisive (crises completæ) when quite successful; crises incompletæ, when only partially so—or (b) some other stimulus (medicine) produces another will which represses the diseased one. If we place this in one and the same category with the will of which we have become conscious through our own representations, and bear in mind that here there can be no question of more or less distant resemblance, we gain the conviction that we have grasped the fundamental conception of the one unlimited, therefore indivisible, life which, according to its different manifestations in various more or less endowed and exercised organs, is just as able to make hair grow on the human body as to combine the most sublime representations. We see that the most violent passion—unsatisfied will—may be checked by more or less strong excitement," &c. &c.—P. 18: "The determining element—this organic will without representation, this tendency to preserve the organism as a unity—is induced by outward temperature to modify its activity now in the same, now in a remoter organ. Every manifestation of life, however, whether in health or in disease, is a manifestation of the organic will: this will determines vegetation: in a healthy condition, in harmony with the unity of the whole; in an unhealthy one ... it is induced not to will in harmony with that unity" ...—P. 23: "Cold suddenly applied to the skin suppresses its function (chill); cold drinks check the organic will in the digestive organs and thereby intensify that of the skin and produce perspiration; just so with the diseased organic will: cold checks cutaneous eruptions," &c. &c.—P. 33: "Fever is the complete participation of the whole vital process in a diseased will, i.e. it is to the entire vital process what inflammation is to particular organs—the effort of our vitality to form something definite, in order to content the diseased will and remove the noxious element.—We call this process of formation crisis or lysis (turning-point or release). The first perception of the pernicious element which causes the diseased will, affects the individuality just in the same way as a noxious element apprehended by our senses, before we have brought to clear representation the entire relation in which it stands to our individuality and the means of removing it. It creates terror and its consequences, a standstill of the vital process in the parenchyma, especially in the parts directed towards the outer world; in the skin, and in all the motor muscles belonging to the entire individuality (outer body): shuddering, chills, trembling, pains in the limbs, &c. &c. The difference between them is, that in the latter case the noxious element, either at once or gradually, becomes clear representation, because it is compared with the individuality by means of all the senses, so that its relation to that individuality can be determined, and the means of protection against it (disregard, flight, warding off, defence, &c.) be brought to a conscious will; whereas, in the former case, we remain unconscious of that noxious element, and it is life alone (or Nature's curative power) which is striving to remove the noxious element and thereby to content the diseased will. Nor must this be taken for a simile; it is, on the contrary, a true description of the manifestation of life."—P. 58: "We must however always bear in mind, that cold acts here as a powerful stimulus to check or moderate the diseased will and to rouse in its place a natural will, accompanied by general warmth."—
In almost every page of this book similar expressions are to be found. In the second of the Essays I have named, Brandis no longer combines the explanation by the will so universally with each separate analysis, probably in consideration that this explanation is properly speaking, a metaphysical one. Nevertheless he maintains it entirely and completely, giving it even all the more distinct and decided expression, wherever he states it. Thus, for instance, in § 68 et seq. he speaks of an "unconscious will, which cannot be separated from the conscious one," and is the primum mobile of all life, as well in plants as in animals; for, in these, it is a desire and aversion manifesting itself in all the organs which determines all their vital processes, secretions, &c. &c.—§. 71: "All convulsions prove that the manifestation of the will can take place without distinct power of representation."—§. 72: "Everywhere do we meet with a spontaneous, uncommunicated activity, now determined by the sublimest human free will, now by animal desire and aversion, now again by simple, more vegetative requirements; which activity, in order to maintain itself, calls forth several other kinds of activity in the unity of the individual."—P. 96: "A creative, spontaneous, uncommunicated activity shows itself in every vital manifestation." ...—"The third factor in this individual creation is the will, the individual's life itself." ...—"The nerves are the conductors of this individual creation: by their means form and mixture are varied according to desire and aversion."—P. 97: "Assimilation of foreign substance ... makes the blood.... It is not an absorption or an exudation of organic matter; ... on the contrary, here the sole factor of the phenomenon is in all cases the creative will, a life which cannot be brought back to any sort of imparted movement."—
When I wrote this (1835) I was still naïf enough seriously to believe that Brandis was unacquainted with my work, or I should not allude here to his writings; for they would then be merely a repetition, application and carrying out of my own doctrine on this point, not a corroboration of it. But I thought I might safely assume that he did not know me, because he has not mentioned me anywhere and because if he had known me, literary honesty would have made it his imperative duty not to remain silent concerning the man from whom he had borrowed his chief fundamental thought, the more so as he saw that man then enduring unmerited neglect, by his writings being generally ignored—a circumstance which might be construed as favourable to fraud. Add to this, that it lay in Brandis' own interest as a writer, and would therefore have shown sagacity on his part, to have appealed to me as an authority. For the fundamental doctrine propounded by him is so striking and paradoxical, that even his Göttingen reviewer is amazed and hardly knows what to think of it; yet such a doctrine as this was left without foundation either through proof or induction, nor did Dr. Brandis establish its relation to the whole of our knowledge of Nature: he simply asserted it. I imagined therefore that it was by the peculiar gift of divination, which enables eminent physicians to see and do the right thing in cases of illness, that he had been led to this view, without being able to give a strict and methodical account of the grounds of this really metaphysical truth, although he must have seen how greatly it is opposed to the generally received views. Had he, thought I, been acquainted with my philosophy, which gives far greater extension to this truth, makes it valid for the whole of Nature and founds it both by proof and induction in close connection with Kant's teaching, from which it proceeds as a final result of excogitation—how gladly must he have availed himself of such confirmation and support, rather than to stand alone by an unheard-of assertion which was never further carried out and, with him, never went beyond bare assertion. Such were the reasons that led me to believe myself entitled to take for granted Dr. Brandis' ignorance of my book.
Since then however I have become better acquainted with German scientists and Copenhagen Academicians, to which body Dr. Brandis belonged, and have gained the conviction that he knew me very well indeed. I stated my reasons for arriving at this conviction already in 1844 in the 2nd vol. of "Die Welt als Wille und Vorstellung,"[193] so that, as the subject is by no means edifying, it is needless to repeat them here; I will merely add that I have since been assured on trustworthy authority that Dr. Brandis not only knew my work but even possessed it, as it was found among his property after his death.—The unmerited obscurity to which writers like myself are long condemned, encourages such people to appropriate their thoughts without so much as naming them.
Another medical authority has carried this even farther; for, not content with the thought alone, he has appropriated to himself the expression of it also. I allude to Professor Anton Rosas of the University of Vienna, whose entire § 507 in the 1st vol. of his Textbook of Ophthalmology[194] (1830) is copied word for word from pp. 14-16 of my treatise "On Vision and Colours" (1816) without any mention whatever of me, or even the slightest hint that he is using the words of another. This sufficiently accounts for the care he has taken not to mention my treatise among the lists of twenty-one writings on Colours and forty on the Physiology of the Eye, which he gives in §§ 542 and 567; a caution which was however all the more advisable, as he had appropriated to himself a good deal more out of that pamphlet without mentioning me. All that is referred, for instance, in § 526 to 'them' (man), is only applicable to me. His entire § 527 is copied almost literally from my pp. 59 and 60. The theory which he introduces without further ceremony in § 535 by the word "evidently": that is, that yellow is 3/4 and violet 1/4 of the eye's activity, never was 'evident' to anyone until I made it so; even to this day it is a truth known to few and acknowledged by fewer still, and much is yet wanting—for example, that I should be dead and buried—ere it be possible to call it 'evident' without further ceremony. The matter will even have to wait till after my death to be seriously sifted, since a close investigation might easily bring to 'evidence' the real difference between Newton's theory of colours and my own, which is simply that his is false, and mine true: a discovery which could not fail to mortify my contemporaries. Wherefore, according to ancient custom, all serious examination into the question is wisely postponed for these few years. Professor Rosas knew no such policy as this and, as the matter was not alluded to anywhere, thought himself entitled, like the Danish Academician, to claim it as lawful prey (de bonne prise). Evidently North and South German honesty had not yet come to a satisfactory understanding.—Moreover the whole contents of §§ 538, 539 and 540 in Professor Rosas' book are taken from my pamphlet, nay even in great part copied word for word from my § 13. Still once, where he stands in need of a voucher for a fact, he finds himself obliged to refer to my treatise: that is, in his § 531; and it is most amusing to see the way in which he even brings in the numerical fractions used by me, as a result of my theory, to express all colours. It had probably occurred to him, that appropriating them quite sans façon might be a delicate matter, so he says, p. 308: "If we wished to express in numbers the first-mentioned relation in which colours stand to white, assuming white to be = 1, the following scale of proportion might by the way be adopted (as has already been done by Schopenhauer):