Chapter XIX: Introduction (4)

Bearing in mind, according to the contents of the last chapter, that the faculty of knowing, like every other organ, has only arisen for the purpose of self-preservation, and that it therefore stands in a precise relation, admitting of countless gradations, to the requirements of each animal species; we shall understand that plants, having so very much fewer requirements than animals, no longer need any knowledge at all. On this account precisely, as I have often said, knowledge is the true characteristic which denotes the limits of animality, because of the movement induced by motives which it conditions. Where animal life ceases, there knowledge proper, with whose essence our own experience has made us familiar, disappears; and henceforth analogy is our only way of making that which mediates between the influence of the outer world and the movements of beings intelligible to us. The will, on the other hand, which we have recognised as being the basis and kernel of every existing thing, remains one and the same at all times and in all places. Now, in the lower degree occupied by plant-life and by the vegetative life of animal organisms, it is the _stimulus_ which takes the place of knowledge as a means of determining the individual manifestations of this omnipresent will and as a mediator between the outer world and the changes of such a being; finally, in inorganic Nature, it is _physical agency in general_; and when, as here, observation takes place from a higher to a lower degree, both stimulus and physical agency present themselves as substitutes for knowledge, therefore as mere analogues to it. Plants cannot properly be said to perceive light and the sun; yet we see them sensitive in various ways to the presence or absence of both. We see them incline and turn towards the light; and though this movement no doubt generally coincides with their growth, just as the moon's rotation on its axis coincides with its movement round the earth, it nevertheless exists, as well as that of the moon, and the direction of that growth is determined and systematically modified by light, just as an action is determined by a motive, and as the direction of the growth of creeping and clinging plants is determined by the shape and position of the supports they may chance to find. Thus because plants on the whole, still have wants, though not such wants as demand the luxury of a sensorium and an intellect, something analogous has to take the place of these, in order to enable the will to lay hold of, if not to seek out, the satisfactions which offer themselves to it. Now, this analogous substitute is susceptibility for stimuli, and I would express the difference between knowledge and this susceptibility as follows: in knowledge, the motive which presents itself as representation and the act of volition which follows from it, _remain distinctly separate one from the other_, this separation moreover being the more distinct, the greater the perfection of the intellect;--whereas, in mere susceptibility for stimuli, the feeling of the stimulus can no longer be distinguished from the volition it occasions, and they coalesce. In inorganic nature finally, even susceptibility for stimuli, the analogy of which to knowledge is unmistakable, ceases, but the diversity of reaction of each body upon divers kinds of action remains; now, when the matter is considered, as we are doing, in the descending scale, this reaction still presents itself, even here, as a substitute for knowledge. If a body reacts differently, it must have been acted upon differently and that action must have roused a different sensation in it, which with all its dullness has nevertheless a distant analogy to knowledge. Thus when water that is shut up finds an outlet of which it eagerly avails itself, rushing vehemently in that direction, it certainly does not recognise that outlet any more than the acid perceives the alkali approaching it which will induce it to abandon its combination with a metal, or than the strip of paper perceives the amber which attracts it after being rubbed; yet we cannot help admitting that what brings about such sudden changes in all these bodies, bears a certain resemblance to that which takes place within us, when an unexpected motive presents itself. In former times I have availed myself of such considerations as these in order to point out the will in all things; I now employ them to indicate the sphere to which knowledge presents itself as belonging, when considered, not as is usual from the inside, but realistically, from a standpoint outside itself, as if it were something foreign: that is, when we gain the objective point of view for it, which is so extremely important in order to complete the subjective one.[258] We find that knowledge then presents itself as the _mediator of motives_, _i.e._ of the action of causality upon beings endowed with intellect--in other words, as that which receives the changes from outside upon which those in the inside must follow, as that which acts as mediator between both. Now upon this narrow line hovers _the world as representation_--that is to say, the whole corporeal world, stretched out in Space and Time, which _as such_ can never exist anywhere but in the brain any more than dreams, which, as long as they last, exist in the same way. What the intellect does for animals and for man, as the mediator of motives, susceptibility for stimuli does for plants, and susceptibility for every sort of cause for inorganic bodies: and strictly speaking, all this differs merely in degree. For, exclusively as a consequence of this susceptibility to outward impressions having enhanced itself in animals proportionately to their requirements till it has reached the point where a nervous system and a brain become necessary, does consciousness arise as a function of that brain, and in it the objective world, whose forms (Time, Space, Causality) are the way in which that function is performed. Therefore we find the intellect originally laid out entirely with a view to subjectivity, destined merely to serve the purposes of the will, consequently as something quite secondary and subordinate; nay, in a sense, as something which appears only _per accidens_; as a condition of the action of mere motives, instead of stimuli, which has become necessary in the higher degree of animal existence. The image of the world in Space and Time, which thus arises, is only the map[259] on which the motives present themselves as ends. It also conditions the spacial and causal connection in which the objects perceived stand to one another; nevertheless it is only the mediating link between the motive and the act of volition. Now, to take such an image as this of the world, arising in this manner, accidentally, in the intellect, _i.e._ in the cerebral function of animal beings, through the means to their ends being represented and the path of these ephemera on their planet being thus illumined--to take this image, we say, this mere cerebral phenomenon, for the true, ultimate essence of things (thing in itself), to take the concatenation of its parts for the absolute order of the Universe (relations between things in themselves), and to assume all this to exist even independently of the brain, would indeed be a leap! Here in fact, an assumption such as this must appear to us as the height of rashness and presumption; yet it is the foundation upon which all the systems of pre-Kantian _dogmatism_ have been built up; for it is tacitly pre-supposed in all their Ontology, Cosmology and Theology, as well as in the _æternæ veritates_ to which they appeal. But that leap had always been made tacitly and unconsciously, and it is precisely Kant's immortal achievement, to have brought it to our consciousness.

[258] Compare "Die Welt a. W. u. V." vol. ii. chap. 22: "Objective
View of the Intellect."

[259] _Plan._

By our present realistic way of considering the matter therefore, we unexpectedly gain the _objective stand-point_ for Kant's great discoveries; and, by the road of empirico-physiological contemplation, we arrive at the point whence his transcendental-critical view starts. For Kant's view takes the subjective for its standpoint and considers consciousness as given. But from consciousness itself and its law and order, given _à priori_, that view arrives at the conclusion, that all which appears in that consciousness can be nothing more than mere phenomenon. From our realistic, exterior standpoint, on the contrary, which assumes the _objective_--all that exists in Nature--to be absolutely given, we see what the intellect is, as to its aim and origin, and to which class of phenomena it belongs, and we recognise (so far _à priori_) that it _must_ be limited to mere phenomena. We see too, that what presents itself in the intellect can at all times only be conditioned--chiefly _subjectively_--that is, can, together with the order of the nexus of its parts, only be a _mundus phenomenon_, which is likewise subjectively conditioned; but that it can never be a knowledge of things as they may be in themselves, or as they may be connected in themselves. For, in the nexus of Nature, we have found the faculty of knowing as a conditioned faculty, whose assertions, precisely on that account, cannot claim unconditioned validity. To anyone who has studied and understood the Critique of Pure Reason--to which our standpoint is essentially foreign--it must nevertheless still appear as if Nature had intended the intellect for a puzzle-glass to mislead us and were playing at hide-and-seek with us. But by our realistic objective road, _i.e._ by starting from the objective world as given, we have now come to the very same result at which Kant had arrived by the idealistic, subjective road, _i.e._ by examining the intellect itself and the way in which it constitutes consciousness. We now see that the world as representation hovers on the narrow line between the external cause (motive) and the effect evoked (act of the will), in beings having knowledge (animals), in which beings for the first time there occurs a distinct separation between motive and voluntary act. _Ita res accendent lumina rebus._ It is only when it is reached by two quite opposite roads, that the great result attained by Kant is distinctly seen; and when light is thus thrown upon it from both sides, his whole meaning becomes clear. Our objective standpoint is realistic and therefore conditioned, so far as, in taking for granted the existence of beings in Nature, it abstracts from the fact that their objective existence postulates an intellect, which contains them as its representation; but Kant's subjective and idealistic standpoint is likewise conditioned, inasmuch as he starts from the intelligence, which itself, however, presupposes Nature, in consequence of whose development as far as animal life that intelligence is for the first time enabled to make its appearance.--Keeping steadily to this realistic, objective standpoint of ours, we may also define Kant's theory as follows: After Locke, in order to know things in themselves, had abstracted the share of sensuous functions--called by him secondary qualities--from things as they appear, Kant with infinitely greater depth deducted from them the incomparably larger share of the cerebral function, which includes precisely what Locke calls primary qualities. But all I have done here has been to show why all this must necessarily be as it is, by indicating the place occupied by the intellect in the nexus of Nature, when we start realistically from the objective as given, but, in doing so, take the only thing of which we are quite directly conscious, the _will_--that true ποῦ στῶ of Metaphysics--for our support, as being what is primarily real, everything else being merely its phenomenon. What now follows serves to complete this.

I have mentioned already, that where knowledge takes place, the motive which appears as representation and the act of volition resulting from it, remain _the more clearly separated one from the other_, the more perfect the intellect; that is, the higher we ascend in the scale of beings. This calls for fuller explanation. As long as the will's activity is roused by stimuli alone, and no representation as yet takes place--that is, in plants--there is no separation at all between the receiving of impressions and the being determined by them. In the lowest order of animal intelligence, such as we find it in _radiaria_, _acalepha_, _acephala_, &c., the difference is still small; a feeling of hunger, a watchfulness roused by this, an apprehending and snapping at their prey, still constitute the whole content of their consciousness; nevertheless this is the first twilight of the dawning world as representation, the background of which--that is to say, everything excepting the motive which acts each time--still remains shrouded in impenetrable darkness. Here moreover the organs of the senses are correspondingly imperfect and incomplete, having exceedingly few data for perception to bring to an understanding yet in embryo. Nevertheless wherever there is sensibility, it is always accompanied by understanding, _i.e._ with the faculty for referring effects experienced to external causes; without this, sensibility would be superfluous and a mere source of aimless suffering. The higher we ascend in the scale of animals, the greater number and perfection of the senses we find, till at last we have all five; these are found in a small number of invertebrate animals, but they only become universal in the _vertebrata_. The brain and its function, the understanding, develop proportionately, and the object now gradually presents itself more and more distinctly and completely and even already in connection with other objects; because the service of the will requires apprehension of the mutual relations of objects. By this the world of representation acquires some extent and background. Still that apprehension never goes beyond what is required for the will's service: the apprehending and the being roused to reaction by what is apprehended, are not clearly held asunder: the object is only perceived in as much as it is a motive. Even the more sagacious animals only see in objects what concerns themselves, what has reference to their will or, at the utmost, what may have reference to it in future: of this last we have an instance in cats, who take pains to acquire an accurate knowledge of localities, and in foxes, who endeavour to find hiding-places for their future prey. But they are insensible towards everything else; no animal has perhaps ever yet seen the starry sky: my dog started in terror when for the first time he accidentally caught sight of the sun. A first faint sign of a disinterested perception of their surroundings may at times be observed in the most intelligent animals, especially when they have been trained by taming. Dogs go so far as to stare at things; we may often see them sit down at the window and attentively watch all that passes. Monkeys look about them at times, as if trying to make up their mind about their surroundings. It is in Man that the separation between motive and action, between representation and will, first becomes quite distinct. But this does not immediately put an end to the subservience of the intellect to the will. Ordinary human beings after all only comprehend quite clearly that which, in some way or other, refers directly or indirectly to their own selves (has an interest for them); with respect to everything else, their understanding continues to be unconquerably inert; the rest therefore remains in the back-ground and does not come into consciousness under the radiant light of complete distinctness. Philosophical astonishment and artistic emotion occasioned by the contemplation of phenomena, remain eternally foreign to them, whatever they may do; for at the bottom, everything appears to them to be a matter of course. Complete liberation and separation of the intellect from the will and its bondage is the prerogative of genius, as I have fully shown in the æsthetic part of my chief work. Genius is objectivity. The pure objectivity and distinctness with which things present themselves in intuitive perception--that fundamental and most substantial source of knowledge--actually stands every moment in inverse proportion to the interest which the will has in those things; and knowing without willing is the condition, not to say the essence, of all gifts of æsthetic intelligence. Why does an ordinary artist produce so bad a painting of yonder landscape, notwithstanding all the pains he has taken? Because he sees it so. And why does he see so little beauty in it? Because his intellect has not freed itself sufficiently from his will. The degrees of this separation give rise to great intellectual distinctions between men; for the more knowledge has freed itself from the will, the purer, consequently the more objective and correct, it is; just as that fruit is best, which has no after-taste of the soil on which it has grown.

This relation, as important as it is interesting, deserves surely to be made still clearer by a retrospective view of the whole scale of beings, and by recalling the gradual transition from absolute subjectivity to the highest degrees of objectivity in the intellect. Inorganic Nature namely, is absolutely subjective, no trace whatever of consciousness of an outer world being found in it. Stones, boulders, ice-blocks, even when they fall upon one another, or knock or rub against one another, have no consciousness of each other and of an outer world. Still even these are susceptible to external influence, which causes their position and movement to change and may therefore be considered as a first step towards consciousness. Now, although plants also have no consciousness of the outer world, and although the mere analogue of a consciousness which exists in them must, on the contrary, be conceived as a dull self-enjoyment; yet we see that they all seek light, and that many of them turn their flowers or leaves daily towards the sun, while creepers find their way to supports with which they are not in contact; and finally we see individual kinds of plants show even a sort of irritability. Unquestionably therefore, there is a connection and relation between their movements and surroundings, even those with which they are not in immediate contact; and this connection we must accordingly recognise as a faint analogue to perception. With animal life first appears decided perception--that is, consciousness of other things, as opposed to that clear consciousness of ourselves to which that consciousness of other things first gives rise. This constitutes precisely the true character of animal-nature, as opposed to plant-nature. In the lowest animals, consciousness of the outer world is very limited and dim: each increasing degree of understanding extends it and makes it clearer, and this gradual increase of the understanding again adapts itself to the gradually increasing requirements of the animal, and thus the process continues through the whole long ascending scale of the animal series up to Man, in whom consciousness of the outer world reaches its acme, and in whom the world accordingly presents itself more distinctly and completely than in any other being. Still, even here, there are innumerable degrees in the clearness of consciousness, from the dullest blockhead to genius. Even in normal heads there still remains a considerable tinge of subjectivity in their objective perception of external objects, knowledge still bearing throughout the character of existing merely for the ends of the will. The more eminent the head, the less prominent is this character, and the more purely objective does the representation of the outer world become; till in genius finally it attains completely objectivity, by which the Platonic ideas detach themselves from the individual things, because the mind which comprehends them enhances itself to the pure subject of knowledge. Now, as perception is the basis of all knowledge, all thinking and all insight must be influenced by this fundamental difference in the quality of it, from which arises that complete difference between the ordinary and the superior mind in their whole way of viewing things, which may be noticed on all occasions. From this also proceeds the dull gravity, nearly resembling that of animals, which characterizes common-place heads whose knowledge is acquired solely for the benefit of the will, as opposed to the constant play of exuberant intellect which brightens the consciousness of the superior mind. The consideration of the two extremes in the great scale which we have here exhibited, seems to have given rise to the German hyperbolical expression "_Block_" (_Klotz_), as applied to human beings, and to the English "blockhead."

But another different consequence of the clear separation of the will from the intellect--therefore of the motive from the action,--which first appears in the human race, is the deceptive illusion of freedom in our individual actions. Where, as in inorganic nature, causes, or, as in the vegetable kingdom, stimuli, call forth the effect, the causal connection is so simple, that there is not even the slightest semblance of freedom. But already in animal life, where that which till then had manifested itself as cause or as stimulus, now appears as a _motive_--and a new world, that of representation, consequently presents itself, and cause and effect lie in different spheres--the causal connection between both, and with it the necessity, are less evident than they were in plants and in inorganic Nature. Nevertheless they are still unmistakable in animals, whose merely intuitive representation stands midway between organic functions induced by stimuli and the deliberate acts of Man. The animal's actions infallibly follow as soon as the perceptible motive is present, unless counter-acted by some equally perceptible counter-motive or by training; yet here representation is already distinct from the act of volition and comes separately into consciousness. But in Man--whose representation has enhanced itself even to abstract conception and who now derives motives and counter-motives for his actions from a whole invisible thought-world which he carries about with him in his brain and which makes him independent of presence and of perceptible surroundings--this connection no longer exists at all for observation from outside, and even for inward observation it is only knowable through abstract and mature reflection. For these abstract motives, when observed from outside, give an impress of deliberation to all his movements, by which they acquire a semblance of independence that manifestly distinguishes them from those of animals, yet which after all only bears evidence to the fact, that Man is actuated by a class of representations in which animals do not share. Then again, in self-consciousness, the act of volition is known to us in the most immediate way, but the motive in most cases very indirectly, being often even intentionally veiled, out of consideration for our self-knowledge. This process therefore, in coincidence with the consciousness of that true freedom which belongs to the will, as thing in itself outside phenomenon, produces the deceptive illusion that even the single act of volition is unconditioned and free: that is, without a reason; whereas, when the character is given and the motive recognised, every act of volition really follows with the same strict necessity as the changes of which mechanics teach us the laws, and, to use Kant's words, were character and motive exactly known, might be calculated with precisely the same certainty as an eclipse of the moon; or again, to place a very heterogeneous authority by the side of Kant, as Dante says, who is older than Buridan:--

"Intra duo cibi distanti e moventi
D'un modo, prima si morria di fame
Che liber' uomo l'un recasse a' denti."
_Paradiso_, iv. 1.[260]

[260]
Between two kinds of food, both equally
Remote and tempting, first a man might die
Of hunger, ere he one could freely chuse. (_Cary's Tr._)

PHYSICAL ASTRONOMY.

No part of my doctrine could I have less hoped to see corroborated by empirical science than that, in which the fundamental truth, that Kant's thing in itself (_Ding an sich_) is the Will, is applied by me even to inorganic Nature, and in which I show the active principle in all fundamental forces of Nature to be absolutely identical with what is known to us within ourselves as the Will.--It has therefore been particularly gratifying to me to have found that an eminent empiricist, yielding to the force of truth, had gone so far as to express this paradox in the exposition of his scientific doctrine. I allude to Sir John Herschel and to his "Treatise on Astronomy," the first edition of which appeared in 1833, and a second enlarged one in 1849, under the title "Outlines of Astronomy." Herschel,--who, as an astronomer, was acquainted with gravity, not only in the one-sided and really coarse part which it acts on earth, but also in the nobler one performed by it in universal Space, where the celestial bodies play with each other, betray mutual inclination, exchange as it were amorous glances, yet never allow themselves to come into rude contact, and thus continue dancing their dignified minuet to the music of the spheres, while they keep at a respectful distance from one another--when he comes to the statement of the law of gravitation in the seventh chapter,[261] expresses himself as follows:--

[261] Herschel, "Treatise on Astronomy," chap. 7, § 371 of the
1st edition, 1833.

"All bodies with which we are acquainted, when raised into the air and quietly abandoned, descend to the earth's surface in lines perpendicular to it. They are therefore urged thereto by a force or effort, the direct or indirect result of a consciousness and a will existing somewhere, though beyond our power to trace, which force we term _gravity_."[262]

[262] Even Copernicus had said the same thing long before
"_Equidem existimo Gravitatem non aliud esse quam appetentiam
quandam naturalem, partibus inditam a divina providentia
opificis universorum, ut in unitatem integritatemque suam se
conferant, in formam Globi coeuntes. Quam affectionem credibile
est etiam Soli, Lunæ cæterisque errantium fulgoribus, inesse,
ut ejus efficacia, in ea qua se repraesentant rotunditate
permaneant; quæ nihilominus multis modis suos efficiunt
circuitus_" ("Nicol. Copernici revol." Lib. I, Cap. IX. Compare
"Exposition des Découvertes de M. le Chevalier Newton par M.
Maclaurin; traduit de l'Anglois par M. Lavirotte," Paris, 1749,
p. 45). Herschel evidently saw, that if we hesitate to explain
gravity, as Descartes did, by an impulse from outside, we are
absolutely driven to admit a will inherent in bodies, _Non datur
tertium_. [Add. to 3rd ed.]

The writer who reviewed Herschel's book in the October number of the "Edinburgh Review" of 1833, anxious, as a true Englishman, before all things to prevent the Mosaic record[263] from being imperilled, takes great umbrage at this passage, rightly observing that it cannot refer to the will of God Almighty, who has called Matter and all its properties into being; he utterly refuses to recognise the validity of the proposition itself, and denies that it follows consistently from the preceding § upon which Herschel wishes to found it. My opinion is, that it undoubtedly would logically follow from that § (because the contents of a conception are determined by its origin), but that the antecedent itself is false. It asserts namely, that the origin of the conception of causality is experience, more especially such experience as we ourselves make in acting by means of our own efforts upon bodies belonging to the outer world. It is only in countries like England, where the light of Kantian philosophy has not yet begun to dawn, that the conception of causality can be thought of as originating in experience (professors of philosophy who pooh-pooh Kant's doctrines and think me beneath their notice being left out of the question); least of all can it be thought of by those who are acquainted with my proof of the _à priority_ of that conception, which differs completely from Kant's proof and rests upon the fact, that knowledge of causality must necessarily precede all perception of the outer world itself as its condition; since perception is only brought about through the _transition_--effected by the understanding--from the sensation in the organ of sense to its _cause_, which cause now presents itself as an _object_ in Space, itself likewise an _à priori_ intuition. Now, as the perception of objects must be anterior to our conscious action upon them, the experience of that conscious action cannot be the origin of the conception of causality; for, before I can act upon things, they must first have acted upon me as motives. I have entered fully into all that has to do with this in my chief work,[264] and in the second edition of my treatise on the Principle of Sufficient Reason, § 21,[265] where the assumption adopted by Herschel finds special refutation; it is therefore useless to enter into it once more here. But it would be even quite possible to refute this assumption empirically, since it would necessarily follow from it, that a man who came into the world without arms or legs, could never attain any knowledge of causality or perception of the outer world. Now Nature has effectually disproved this by a case, of which I have reproduced the account from its original source in the above-mentioned chapter of my chief work, p. 40.[266]--In this assertion of Herschel's therefore, we have another instance of a right conclusion drawn from wrong premisses. Now this always happens when we have obtained immediate insight into a truth by a right _aperçu_ but are at a loss to find out and clearly define our reasons for knowing it, owing to our inability to bring them to clear consciousness. For, in all original insight, conviction exists before proof: the proof being invariably excogitated afterwards.

[263] Which he has more at heart than all the wisdom and truth
in the world. [Add. to 3rd ed.]

[264] See "Die Welt a. W, u. V." vol. ii. ch. 4, pp. 38-42 (3rd
edition, pp. 41-46).

[265] P. 74 (3rd edition, p. 79), p. 92 of the translation in
the present volume.

[266] 3rd edition, p. 44.

The immediate manifestation of gravity is more evident in each part of liquid, than of solid, matter, owing to the perfect freedom of motion of the parts among each other. In order therefore to penetrate into this _aperçu_, which is the true source of Herschel's assertion, let us look attentively at a torrent dashing headlong over rocks and ask ourselves whether so determined an impetus, so boisterous a vehemence, can arise without an exertion of strength, and whether an exertion of strength is conceivable without will. And so it is precisely in every case in which we become aware of anything moving spontaneously, of any primary, uncommunicated force: we are constrained to think its innermost essence as will.--This much at any rate is certain, that Herschel, like all the empiricists in so many different branches of science whose evidence I have quoted above, had arrived here at the limit where nothing more is left behind the Physical but the Metaphysical; that this had brought him to a standstill, and that he, as well as the rest of them, was unable to find anything beyond that limit, but the _will_.

Herschel moreover, like most of these empiricists, is here still hampered by the opinion that will is inseparable from consciousness. As I have expatiated enough above upon this fallacy, and its correction through my doctrine, it is needless for me to enter into it here again.

The attempt has repeatedly been made, since the beginning of this century, to ascribe _vitality_ to the inorganic world. Quite wrongly: for living and inorganic are convertible conceptions, and with death the organic ceases to be organic. But no limit in the whole of Nature is so sharply drawn as the line which separates the organic from the inorganic: that is to say, the line between the region in which Form is the essential and permanent, Matter the accidental and changing,--and the region in which this relation is entirely reversed. This is no vacillating boundary like that perhaps between animals and plants, between solid and liquid, between gas and steam: to endeavour to destroy it therefore, is intentionally to bring confusion into our ideas. On the other hand, I am the first who has asserted that a _will_ must be attributed to all that is lifeless and inorganic. For, with me, the will is not, as has hitherto been assumed, an accident of cognition and therefore of life: but life itself is manifestation of will. Knowledge, on the contrary, is really an accident of life, and life of Matter. But Matter itself is only the perceptibility of the phenomena of the will. Therefore we are compelled to recognise _volition_ in every effort or tendency which proceeds from the nature of a material body, and properly speaking constitutes that nature, or manifests itself as phenomenon by means of that nature; and there can consequently be no Matter without manifestation of will. The lowest and on that account most universal manifestation of will is _gravity_, wherefore it has been called a primary and essential property of Matter.

The usual view of Nature assumes _two_ fundamentally different principles of motion, therefore it supposes that the movement of a body may have _two different origins_: _i.e._, that it proceeds either from the inside, in which case it is attributed to the _will_; or from the outside, and then it is occasioned by _causes_. This principle is generally taken for granted as a matter of course and only occasionally brought explicitly into prominence; nevertheless, in order to make the case quite certain, I will point out a few passages from the earliest to the latest authors in which it is specially stated. In Phædrus,[267] Plato makes the distinction between that which moves spontaneously from inside (_soul_) and that which receives movement only from outside (_body_)--τὸ ὑφ' ἑαυτοῦ κινούμενον καὶ τό, ᾧ ἔξωθεν τὸ κινεῖσθαι.[268]--Aristotle establishes the principle in precisely the same way: ἅπαν τὸ φερόμενον ἢ ὑφ' ἑαυτοῦ κινεῖται, ἢ ὐπ' ἄλλου (_quidquid fertur a se movetur, aut ab alio_).[269] He returns to the subject in the next Book, chap. 4 and 5, and connects it with some explanatory details which lead him into considerable perplexity, on account precisely of the fallacy of the antithesis.[270]--In more recent times again J. J. Rousseau brings forward the same antithesis with great _naïveté_ and candour in his famous "Profession de foi du vicaire Savoyard:"[271] "_J'aperçois dans les corps deux sortes de mouvement, savoir: mouvement communiqué et mouvement spontané ou volontaire: dans le premier la cause motrice est étrangère au corps mû; et dans le second elle est en lui-même._"--But even in our time and in the stilted, puffed-up style which is peculiar to it, Burdach holds forth as follows:[272] "The cause that determines a movement lies either inside or outside of that which moves. Matter is external existence; it has powers of motion, but it only brings them into play under certain spacial conditions and external oppositions: the soul alone is an ever active and internal thing, and only those bodies which have souls find within themselves inducement to move, and move of their own free will, independently of outer mechanical circumstances."

[267] Plato, "Phæd." p. 319 Bip.

[268] "That which is moved by itself and that which is moved
from outside." [Tr.] And we find the same distinction again in
the 10th Book "De Legibus," p. 85. [After him Cicero repeats it
in the two last chapters of his "Somnium Scipionis." Add. to 3rd
ed.]

[269] "All that is moved, is moved either by itself or by
something else." [Tr.] Aristotle, "Phys." vii. 2.

[270] Maclaurin, too, in his account of Newton's discoveries, p.
102, lays down this principle as his starting-point. [Add. to
3rd ed.]

[271] Émile, iv. p. 27. Bip.

[272] Burdach, "Physiologie," vol. iv. p. 323.

Now here however I must say, as Abélard once did: _si omnes patres sic, at ego non sic_: for, in opposition to this principle, however great may be its antiquity and universality, my doctrine maintains, that there are _not_ two origins of movement differing fundamentally from one another; that movement does _not_ proceed either from inside, when it is ascribed to the will, or from outside, when it is brought about by causes; but that both things are inseparable and take place simultaneously with every movement made by a body. For movement which is admitted to arise from the _will_, always presupposes a _cause_ also: this cause, in beings that have knowledge, is a _motive_; but without it, even in these beings, movement is impossible. On the other hand, the movement of a body which is admitted to have been brought about by an outward _cause_, is nevertheless in itself a manifestation of the _will_ of that body which has only been evoked by that cause. Accordingly there is only one, uniform, universal and exceptionless principle of all movement, whose inner condition is _will_ and whose outer occasion is _cause_, which latter may also take the form of a _stimulus_ or of a _motive_, according to the nature of the thing moved.

All that is known to us of things in a merely empirical or _à posteriori_, way, is in itself _will_; whereas, so far as they can be determined _à priori_, things belong exclusively to _representation_, to mere phenomenon. Natural phenomena therefore become proportionately less easy to comprehend, the more distinctly the will manifests itself in them, _i.e._ the higher they stand on the scale of beings; whereas, they become more and more comprehensible the smaller the amount of their empirical content, because they remain more and more within the sphere of mere representation, the forms of which, known to us _à priori_, are the principle of comprehensibility. Accordingly, it is only so long as we limit ourselves to this sphere--that is to say, only when we have before us mere representation, mere form without empirical content--that our comprehension is complete and thorough: that is, in the _à priori_ sciences, Arithmetic, Geometry, Phoronomy and Logic. Here everything is in the highest degree comprehensible; our insight is quite clear and satisfactory: it leaves nothing to be desired, since we are even unable to conceive that anything could be otherwise than it is. This comes from our having here exclusively to do with the forms of our own intellect. Thus the more we are able to comprehend in a relation, the more it consists of mere phenomenon and the less it has to do with the thing in itself. Applied Mathematics, Mechanics, Hydraulics, &c. &c., deal with the lowest degrees of objectification of the will, in which the largest part still remains within the sphere of mere representation; nevertheless even here there is already an empirical element which stands in the way of entire comprehension, which makes the transparency less complete, and in which the inexplicable shows itself. For the same reason, only few departments of Physics and of Chemistry continue to admit of a mathematical treatment; whereas higher up in the scale of beings this has to be entirely done away with, precisely because of the preponderance of content over form in these phenomena. This content is will, the _à posteriori_, the thing in itself, the free, the causeless. Under the heading "Physiology of Plants," I have shown how--in beings that live and have knowledge--motive and act of will, representation and volition, separate and detach themselves more and more distinctly one from the other, the higher we ascend in the scale of beings. Now, in inorganic Nature also, the cause separates itself from the effect in just the same proportion, and the purely empirical--which is precisely phenomenon of the will--detaches itself more and more prominently; but, just with this, comprehensibility diminishes. This point merits fuller investigation, and I request my readers to give their whole and undivided attention to what I am about to say, as it is calculated to place the leading thought of my doctrine in the strongest possible light, both as to comprehensibility and cogency. But this is all I can do; for it is beyond my power to induce my contemporaries to prefer thoughts to verbiage; I can only console myself for not being the man of the age.

On the lowest step of the scale of Nature, cause and effect are quite homogeneous and quite equivalent. Here therefore we have perfect comprehension of the causal connection: for instance, the cause of the movement of one ball propelled by impact, is the movement of another, which loses just as much movement as the first one receives. Here causality is in the highest degree intelligible. What notwithstanding still remains mysterious, is restricted to the possibility of the passage of movement--of a thing incorporeal--from one body to another. The receptivity of bodies in this mode is so slight, that the effect to be produced has to pass over completely from its cause. The same holds good of all purely mechanical influences; and if they are not all just as instantaneously understood, it is either because they are hidden from us by accessory circumstances, or because we are confused by the complicated connection of many causes and effects. In itself, mechanical causality is everywhere equally, that is, in the highest degree, comprehensible; because cause and effect do not differ here as to _quality_, and because where they differ as to _quantity_, as in the lever, mere Space and Time relations suffice to make the thing clear. But as soon as weights come also into play, a second mysterious element supervenes, _gravity_: and, where elastic bodies are concerned, _elasticity_ also.--Things change as soon as we begin to ascend in the scale of phenomena. Heat, considered as cause, and expansion, liquefaction, volatilization or crystallization, as effects, are not homogeneous; therefore their causal connection is not intelligible. The comprehensibility of causality has diminished: what a lower degree of heat caused to liquefy, a higher degree makes evaporate: that which crystallizes with less heat, melts when the heat is augmented. Warmth softens wax and hardens clay; light whitens wax and blackens chloride of silver. And, to go still further, when two salts are seen to decompose each other mutually and to form two new ones, elective affinity presents itself to us as an impenetrable mystery, and the properties of the two new bodies are not a combination of the properties of their separate elements. Nevertheless we are still able to follow the process and to indicate the elements out of which the new bodies are formed; we can even separate what has been united and restore the original quantities. Thus noticeable heterogeneousness and incommensurability between cause and effect have here made their appearance: causality has become more mysterious. And this becomes still more apparent when we compare the effects of electricity or of the Voltaic pile with their causes, _i.e._ with the friction of glass, or the piling and oxidation of the plates. Here all similarity between cause and effect at once vanishes; causality becomes shrouded in a thick veil, which men like Davy, Faraday and Ampère have strenuously endeavoured to lift. The only thing now discernible through that veil, are the laws ruling its mode of action, which may be brought into a schema such as + E - E, communication, distribution, shock, ignition, analysis, charging, isolation, discharging, electric current, &c. &c., to this schema we are able to reduce and even to direct the effect; but of the process itself we know nothing: that remains an _x_. Here therefore cause and effect are completely heterogeneous, their connection is unintelligible, and we see bodies show great susceptibility to causal influences, the nature of which remains a secret for us. Moreover in proportion as we mount higher in the scale, the effect seems to contain more, the cause less. When we reach organic Nature therefore, in which the phenomenon of life presents itself, this is the case in a far higher degree still. If, as is done in China, we fill a pit with decaying wood, cover it with leaves from the same tree as the wood, and pour a solution of sulphur repeatedly over it, an abundant crop of edible mushrooms will spring up. A world of rapidly moving _infusoria_ will arise from a little hay well watered. What a difference lies here between effect and cause! How much more does the former seem to contain than the latter! When we compare the seed, sometimes centuries, nay even thousands of years old, with the tree, or the soil with the specifically and strikingly different juices of innumerable plants--some healthy, some poisonous, some again nutritious--which spring from the same earth, upon which the same sun shines and the same rain falls, all resemblance ceases, and with it all comprehensibility for us. For here causality already appears in increased potency: that is, as stimulus and as susceptibility for stimulus. The schema of cause and effect alone has remained; we know that this is cause, that effect; but we know nothing whatever of the nature and disposition of causality. Between cause and effect there is not only no qualitative resemblance, but no quantitative relation: the relatively greater importance of the effect as compared with its cause increases more and more; the effect of the stimulus too does not augment in proportion with the enhancement of that stimulus; in fact just the contrary often takes place. Finally, when we come to the sphere of beings which have knowledge, there is no longer any sort of resemblance or relation between the action performed and the object which, as representation, evokes it. Animals, however, as they are restricted to _perceptible_ representations, still need the _presence_ of the object acting as a motive, which action is then immediate and infallible (if we leave training, _i.e._ habit enforced by fear, out of the question). For animals are unable to carry about with them conceptions that might render them independent of present impressions, enable them to reflect, and qualify them for deliberate action. Man can do this. Therefore when at last we come to rational beings, the motive is even no longer a present, perceptible, actually existing, real thing, but a mere conception having its present existence only in the brain of the person who acts, but which is extracted from many multifarious perceptions, from the experience of former years, or has been handed down in words. Here the separation between cause and effect is so wide, the effect has grown so much stronger as compared with the cause, that the vulgar mind no longer perceives the existence of a cause at all, and the acts of the will appear to it to be unconditioned, causeless: that is to say, free. This is just why, when we reflect upon them from outside, the movements of our own body present themselves as if they took place without cause, or to speak more properly, by a miracle. Experience and reflection alone teach us that these movements, like all others, are only possible as the effects of causes, here called motives, and that, on this ascending scale, it is only as to material reality that the cause has failed to keep pace with the effect; whereas it has kept pace with it as to dynamical reality, energy.--At this degree of the scale therefore--the highest in Nature--causality has become less intelligible to us than ever. Nothing but the bare schema, taken in a quite general sense, now remains, and the ripest reflection is needed to recognise its applicability and the necessity that schema brings with it everywhere.