Skip to content

Chapter XXVII: Preface: Of the German Editor (10)

Text size

We have now, then, completely depicted, in their leading features at least, the principal errors to which science is exposed. And if we have enabled you to regard them as errors both in their origin and their subsequent character, we must at the same time, by means of the contrast, have thrown additional light and distinctness on the idea of science, not only as regards its different elements and constituents, but also the whole periphery and center of internal certainty. If, now, it should be required of us to give a common characteristic of all the fundamental errors which, potentially at least, exist in the human consciousness--if it be wished that we should comprise under one general designation the false phantom of absolute unity and necessity in science--the imaginary fiction of death brought into nature by a dead and atomistic mode of thinking--the prejudices of the Ego or Me, and the spirit of eternal negation, which is utterly fatal to truth--then, for this purpose, nothing else would remain but an empty formula or unsubstantial notion, viz., the dead absolute. At least this would be thoroughly appropriate to convey that intrinsic indifference of all forms of scientific untruth.

Opposed thereto, and forming the center of a true and valid knowledge, is that source of eternal love within the feeling to which we have already so often alluded, designating it by either similar or somewhat different expressions. To defend and securely to settle this living center of all higher truth and true science against the attacks of absolute skepticism, was even the task which we proposed to ourselves from the outset. It was however far from our intention, while discharging this duty, wholly to put doubt itself under a ban. On the contrary, we look upon the latter as an essential means of improvement, and as an almost indispensable organ of development in a living progression of knowledge.

Now in these definite limits, both for the exclusion of absolute skepticism and for the recognition and correct application at all times of a genuine and salutary doubt, we have, we think, found a satisfactory answer to the great question of truth and of the possibility of man’s attaining to a knowledge of it. And if so, we have at the same time shown completely that doubt forms a decisive crisis in the human mind, and thereby happily solved the problem which at an earlier period we propounded with regard to it. And moreover, as was then declared to be necessary, the instinctive feeling of truth within the very center of love has been raised to and established in the dignity of an intelligent feeling or a solid judgment of inward certainty, and of an immediate perception thereof. And this immediate perception of inward certainty must serve as the transition from the first developed notion of the consciousness to our now more enlightened idea of science, and also form the connecting link between them. Before, however, we can close our present development with this notion of judgment or intelligent feeling of inward certainty, one question remains to be answered, or perhaps one remark to be added. And this relates to truth itself, as the inmost center of such an immediate perception, while the question that occurs is, what is it, _per se_, to know, and what is it that in the act of knowing really takes place in the human mind?

Now it has been long admitted that true knowing consists in this: that a man discerns things, not merely as they outwardly appear, but as they are really and truly in themselves. But this true intrinsic essence of things is seized or understood by him only who perceives them such as they proceeded from the Deity, have their being in Him, and such as they stand before His omniscient eye and are seen by him. What, then, is true knowledge, if such be possible for man? Now, supposing the existence of a living God--and how, without this universal primary and imperishable hypothesis, could there be either talk or question about truth or knowledge in general?--this supposition then involves the idea of an omnipresent Deity, in whom all existing things “live and move, and have their being,” even though He does not visibly appear, and is hidden to the outward eye of sense. Truly to know, therefore, would be, if we may so express it, to feel and draw out the latent presence of God in objects, and thereby to seize and perceive their true intrinsic essence. Now, if it is necessary to distinguish the several grades of development of this spiritual or intellectual feeling which draws out the inner truth of things, its first step must be described as a perception, which, however, is both from without and remote. The second would be a _sensation_, _i.e._, the full certain _finding_ the truth in one’s self.[75] As to the last step of consummation, that would amount to an intellectual intuition, even though, by reason of human finiteness, it must ever remain indirect. Still it would not, on that account, be less profoundly searching and penetrating, while, in it, that of which we have now first become certain comes forth externally perfect, and admits of being imparted to others. And unquestionably for that philosophy which pretends to open and unveil a true and right understanding of the inner and higher life, after the first grade, which took for its basis the full and complete notion of the consciousness; and after the second, in which the idea of science is unfolded, this intuition of truth forms the third degree, and also the final close and completion, of the whole. In order, however, to understand how such an intuitive knowledge is possible, we must bear in mind that it is not we who raise ourselves to the divine idea; but that, on the contrary, it is it that takes hold of our minds, being imparted to and working within us.

The deadly attacks of skepticism may, no doubt, be directed successfully enough against an unconditional science of reason, where its action or reaction, which brings out the intrinsic contradiction of such a system, is both salutary and desirable, in order to destroy the false semblance of a spurious necessity. All its blows, however, glance off from a real and solid experience, and soon cease entirely. And just so, also, the limit of an assumed or credited impossibility, which is too hastily and too nearly set up, is quickly overstepped by facts themselves. Very often, before now, has it happened, in experimental science, that what man once not merely questioned, but actually declared to be incredible, nay, even impossible, has unexpectedly proved, afterward, to be an actual fact, and gained general credence as undeniably certain. How much is there not in nature that deserves to be called marvelous, and borders close upon the miraculous, and which makes, at least, some such impression on our minds and understandings as they have been hitherto developed? To one, indeed, who takes his stand on revelation, it becomes extremely difficult to draw a strict line of demarkation, and to raise an impassable boundary between that which is called natural and that which is termed supernatural, in the usual sense of these words. And, if all higher truth is imparted, and can not but be such, who will presume to set a limit or a measure here? Who will set bounds to the Author of revelation which He shall not pass? If, then, even in philosophy, all science and truth is really a revelation, and if it were recognized and understood in this light, then should we be able to put this matter to the test of experience, provided, only, that we be careful to draw from the right source, and to treat philosophy really and truly as a science of an experience higher than any internal or external one.

But man must not expect, even according to this point of view, to penetrate at once into the fullness of the divine mysteries, and arbitrarily to play with and mold them at his pleasure. The development of truth in the human mind always proceeds slowly, and step by step. Even when the whole beginning and sure foundation is already found, or, rather, given, the inner evolution and external application of true science unfolds itself with extreme tardiness. At each point of progress much still remains to be overcome, much to be improved, and even to be thought upon once more, and reconsidered over and over again. Often, too, at the very last moment, an unexpected obstacle presents itself, or some new procrastination of a conscientious doubt or care. To show that all this is to be expected, even according to the theory which makes science to be a divine communication, and that all higher knowledge is and must be such, I have a remark or two more to add. And here I shall not follow the same course that I took in my exposition of the possible forms of error, tracing the origin of each to some predisposing cause in the several faculties of the mind. It will suffice to take for granted the keenest susceptibility in the truth-loving soul, the greatest activity and energy of the spirit in its search after and cognition of science, and a perfectly pure will co-existing and having a common foundation in a purified, newly-invigorated, and enhanced state of the human consciousness.

Very often, even in the noblest minds, a lively, open sense and profound sensibility of the soul for the higher truth is found associated with a secret dread and profound apprehension before it. At this, however, we need not to feel surprised. It is not so much a lasting illusion, as rather a slight partition-wall between the first new impression and our habitual self; for each fresh influence of higher truth draws us noticeably away from our usual circle of ideas, and often painfully eradicates some favorite notion and cherished opinion. This fact, then, will serve to explain this slight feeling of resistance which precedes a complete adhesion and identification, and as such requires to be treated with the utmost delicacy and tenderness. Or let us take the case of a great mind in possession of a higher and comprehensive knowledge, and most assuredly he could never have attained to it without many a bold venture in living thought; for without boldness nothing good or beautiful, much less great, is ever reached or attainable. And this is true also of language, for the bold thought demands a correspondent boldness of expression. Where, then, is such a one to look for the limits and the standard of a legitimate venture--the guide and safeguard against temerity--when his boldness of speculation springs really from a profound love of truth, and a pure enthusiasm for science? The risk of error and mistake, and even a sense of solemn accountability, meets him on all sides, and fills him with anxiety and reserve. The hypothesis has been deemed allowable, at least it has been advanced, invented by way of simile, of a man being intrusted with and holding in his hand the full truth--or, rather, let me say all truth in heaven and in earth--since, if we suppose science to be imparted and a gift, there can be no limits set or predetermined to its extent. Now, it has been asserted that such a person would be seized with hesitation, fear, and doubt, whether he ought to open his hand all at once, or only half open it at first, or whether he ought not even to keep it a long time closed. But to turn away from this fiction, which, in reality, transcends altogether the measure of human capacity, then, as regards the necessary gradation and salutary slowness that marks, and even the hesitation that must take place in all human learning and development, and even in philosophy, no less than in the internal region of the consciousness, what rule or guide has man? For such a standard nothing, apparently, remains to us but to assume the notion of a logical conscience as a quality in the true thinker necessary to preserve him from every false step, either within or without. That there is such a logical conscience, wholly independent of all moral relation, is perfectly obvious. By it we must understand not only a careful measuring and weighing of all thoughts, but even of every word and expression; and we have chosen this term as well fitted to enforce the great importance of this sensibility in matters of scientific truth, and to indicate the place in the consciousness where it properly has its seat, and the principle from which it must take its rise. The genius-gifted boldness of a great thinker would be little likely to convey confidence, if it were not at the same time associated and harmoniously united with the essential element of a cautious and gradual procedure. In its essential features, though in a somewhat different form and relation, the Greeks, in their philosophy, were acquainted with and possessed this notion of a logical conscience; for, in some measure, it is even implied in this very word philosophy, which was intended to indicate, and intrinsically means, an unselfish and pure pursuit of truth. But the fact becomes still more evident by the contrast with, or, rather, by the notion of, the sophist, as opposed to that of the philosopher. By the former they understood a common and vulgar traffic with wisdom, or even an interested and wholly unconscientious abuse of scientific truth to personal interest, or the gratification of selfish humors and passions, and even of vain glory. All this the Greeks regarded as absolutely worthless and despicable. And much is it to be wished that we, in our days, remembered a little better, and strove to imitate this stern morality of the old Athenians in their notion of the high dignity of truth, and of the respect due to this sanctuary of science, which, at the distance that they were allowed to approach to it, they reverently worshiped and honored.

LECTURE X.

The apprehending of a real object in thought, unquestionably involves an act of knowing, so long, at least, as it is no empty thought, but has a real subject-matter. It is a piece of knowledge, even though it may be as yet very incomplete, both as regards its external connection with others and its inward development, and though it be highly defective also in form and expression. It is, moreover, possible that subsequently, by an incorrect analysis or other erroneous treatment of it, its usefulness may be destroyed, itself dissolved into naught, and stripped of true vital significance. And thus by our own fault, the thought, which originally possessed a true and real object, is reduced into a mere wordy formula, conveying actually no meaning at all. In order, then, to indicate the real distinction between the two, and at the same time to guard against all possible misconception, we would define as follows the intrinsic essence of knowledge: to know is the living thought of something real. The general indefinite term, thought, which we have here employed, is the right one and the most appropriate in this place, for it comprises every kind of perceiving and understanding, of judging and comprehending, of cognition and recognition, and serves to indicate the several elements and relations or differing degrees of knowledge, and of that intuitive inward certainty which is combined and associated with it. It would be far less accurate to say that knowledge is the correct thought, instead of the _living_ thought of a real object; although, indeed, the former is involved in and inseparable from the latter. When a thought which in any degree apprehends or comprehends a real object, is said to be incorrect, this is as much as to say that it comprises much that is not found in the object itself, and consequently does not coincide with it. But that which is not contained in the object itself is, so far as it is concerned, unreal and does not belong to it. And all such is necessarily excluded from the notion of the thought of a real object, since otherwise it would be a thinking of what is unreal. The expression, too, of an incorrect thinking of what is real, would, no doubt, point to and indicate the same fact in every case where such thinking is a thoroughly defective and incomplete knowing, if, for instance, much that is essential and is really found in the particular object were not comprised in the thought or were wanting in it. This expression, consequently, is perfectly applicable, and indeed appropriate, when we wish to speak of a complete and perfect knowledge, and to distinguish it from one that is faulty and defective. But such knowledge slowly and gradually develops itself; the notion of knowing in general must precede that of perfect knowledge. The living thought of a real object, however imperfect and incomplete it may be, contains, nevertheless, the first beginning and germ of a knowing. It is only out of a dead thought that a true knowing can never arise; properly, indeed, when it is but a mere formula, it is not even a true thinking. Knowledge, therefore, in general is the living thought of some real object; but perfect and complete knowledge is the full and correct development of this thought, by means of which it becomes perfectly defined, both outwardly and inwardly. But a real object is invariably the first foundation and beginning, from which all knowledge springs up, and to which all thought must be immediately directed and also closely attach itself.

In an older form of philosophy, the supreme, or--as it was called, not very appropriately, if all its various relations be considered--necessary Being, was usually declared to be that of which the reality was at once given in its possibility, so that the proof of its actual existence would immediately follow from the mere idea of its perfection. This, however, is but one of the many forms of expression for the absolute unity of being and knowledge. We have already expressed ourselves sufficiently at large on the general topic, and we have only adduced this particular instance to serve as a passage to our exposition of another view, in the hope of throwing out the latter more distinctly and definitely by means of the contrast.

In that method of philosophy which takes its rise in no dead and abstract thinking, but rather in life itself and the living thought, reality, together with the immediate feeling of whatever is thus real and actual in the inward perception, as well as in external experience, and also in the revelation from above, forms the first beginning out of which all is developed. This is the fixed, stable point to which all that follows attaches itself. The necessary, which comes first after this reality, is simply the inner essential and complete connection of this first data. But the possible, which is not any mere arbitrary conception and chimerical invention, but something truly, and we might almost say _really_ possible, forms the conclusion, as that which by a natural development results from the two former--the initiatory fact and its intrinsic essentiality. This simple series or natural progression in living thought forms and constitutes in the next place the different degrees of understanding, and even the internal grades of certainty and clearness in a continuously advancing development. The foundation of the whole is formed by the feeling of a reality, the perception of a fact, existing somewhere within the limits of that triple experience which takes in an inner and an outer and also a higher world. Now, the first step in this progressive intellectual development is formed by the notion or general term, which, as I formerly explained it, is a thought or conception that is mathematically determined and precisely limited, both inwardly and outwardly, according to the three dimensions of number, measure, and weight. In it all the several elements which, taken together, form the original thought or conception of the real object, are first of all duly separated and arranged, and then again united as organic members into a regular whole, or, after the manner of geometry, brought into a _construction_. But this act of comprising into a general notion [_Begreifen_] is by no means a perfect explanation of the matter. It is not, as it were, an analysis carried out fully and completely, so that nothing still remains to be explained. For even according to the ordinary usage of speech, we may very easily form and have a notion of any system, whether purely ideal or experimental, philosophical or unphilosophical, or belonging to any other domain of science, and even of a work of art, at the same time that we are forced to admit that there is much in it that we do not understand, or which appears to us inexplicable and unintelligible. This comprehending, which externally consists in the correct marking out of the whole circumference of an object, and inwardly, in the clear division and arrangement of its several organic members, is not the complete act of understanding; it is only its first step. As such, however, it may afterward attain to an internal confirmation, and become thereby the second degree in the approach to completeness of understanding. And this it does as soon as a cognition of the error which may either possibly rise up in, about, or together with itself, or is actually combined with it, is attained, and when, consequently, a clearer recognition of the opposing truth advances the mere feeling of a something real into an intelligent feeling or judgment of inward certainty. And this is the very essence of knowing. The third step in the further development or enhancement of the first living thought, or of its progressive approach toward completeness of understanding, is formed by the idea. The idea is distinct from the notion, even in its form. Unlike the latter, it does not set forth all that, under the given conditions, necessarily and essentially belongs together. In other words, it does not give the full and complete extent of the reality which was taken up by the original feeling and perception. It rather propounds the thought of a possibility, which, in a certain and definite view or direction, appears attainable. For instance, in our present development of the inner and higher life, the notion of the consciousness was followed by the idea of science, and the question how far it is possible and within the reach of man. Even in ordinary language this distinction is observed. How often do we hear it observed, that this or that scheme is a mere idea, signifying that it is a thought whose object is a something possible, but of which the reality or realization appears at the time highly problematical. On the other hand, by the term notion, strictly taken, it is usual to understand a thought which has for its subject-matter something relatively true at least, since, otherwise there would be nothing that we could have a notion of or comprehend. And simply on this account it is not possible that the idea should contain a perfectly definite and organically articulated construction of its object. For, in fact, an idea is merely the indication, the standard, and the rule of the possible. It is simply designed to show what is to be, and in what way it can be, attained, and perhaps, also, in what law of progression its attainment will be actually realized.

However, a truly scientific and scientifically useful idea is before all things closely and essentially dependent on the foundation of an inward certainty, or a feeling and conviction that the object which forms its problem, or the problem which is its object, is really and actually attainable. Consequently, it intimately depends on the intelligent feeling or judgment as to this inward certainty and truth in knowledge.

ANALYTICAL INDEX.

A

Absolute knowledge, false character of, 60.
power considered, 175.

Abstraction, not the true method of philosophy, 354.

Æther of the nerves, 76.

Age, the early Christian, 148.
the middle, 149, 246.
that of the restoration of letters, 150.
anti-Christian spirit of the present, 151.
a struggle for truth the conflict of the present, 158.
the spirit of the present a spirit of untruth, 159.
different ages of the history of the world, 163.
characteristics of the present, 164, 457.
the middle contained all the elements of the Christian state, 182.
rationalism to be feared in the present, 227.
spirit of the present, 409.

Alphabet, the psychological, 452.

Angels, the neutral, 136.

Animals, soul of, 121.

Antediluvian--see _World_.

Architecture, its alliance to sculpture, 260.

Ariana, the, 246.

Aristotle, his system, 243.

Aristotelian schoolmen, 247.

Art, symbolical nature and constitution of life with reference to it, 256.

Art, all symbolical, 257.
religious origin of, 265
a feeling of the infinite, 415.
a universal language, 421.
evil influences of, 455.
hope the soul of, 456.
present state of, 458.
spurious, 461.

Astronomy, modern, 84.
seven the traditionary number of the planets, 85.
Pythagorean system of, 85.

Atheism, produced by French philosophy, 18.
tendency of modern science to, 155.

Atlantis, legend of, 83.

Authority, God the source of, 168.

Avarice, its character, 34.
apart from industry, 35.

B

Beauty, 506.
source of in fiction, 510.

Bible--see _Scriptures_.

Body, the spiritual, 74.

Byron, his Cain, 21, 410.

Comments

Log in to leave a comment.

The philosophy of life, and philosophy of language, in a course of lecturesChapter XXVII: Preface: Of the German Editor (10)

0%18 min left in chapter