Life's Basis and Life's Ideal: The Fundamentals of a New Philosophy of Life

by Rudolf Eucken

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.