It is true that in striving for truth, man advances beyond sense presentation to the activity of thought; but the thoughts always remain his—thoughts of mere man. However much he may widen his own sphere as a consequence of his reflection upon them, he does not go beyond it. Inhistory also the striving for a scientific comprehension of truth appears to be a vain struggle; the passing through different phases has not brought it nearer its aim so much as, with ever-increasing clearness, it has manifested the impossibility of attaining what is sought.
The ancient conception of truth, with its belief in a relationship of the being of man with the whole; with it assumption of an easy transference of life from one to the other; with its view of truth as an agreement of thought with an external reality, has through the course of life become untenable; it has been rejected through the influence of the tendency of our being to become more inward. For this tendency necessarily led to a detachment from the environment of the world, and to a separation of the two sides of our experience. We became clearly conscious of this separation at the beginning of the Modern Age. We saw that, if we were not to give up all claim to truth, only one course remained possible: to make a division within the human domain, a division between a merely human and something else which might be regarded as the presence of universal and genuine life in man. And so Spinoza distinguished an objective thought from the springs of the emotions; Kant distinguished practical reason from the theoretical which is bound up with the limitations of human nature; and Hegel elevated the thought-process, which manifests itself in the work of universal history, far above the opinions and the wishes of individuals. Each of these championed a distinctive conception of truth and a characteristic form of the spiritual life; but with regard to all attempts we come to doubt whether even that proclaimed as more than human is not still within the domain of man; whether in every case we do not wrongly declare the last point which we reach to be the deepest basis of reality.
The position is somewhat similar with regard to the idea of the good. In the attempts to which we have referred, it passed current as a deliverance from all selfish happiness, which was felt to be intolerably narrow.A new, purer, and more comprehensive life is to proceed from the winning of a new position. Now, there are many different conceptions of happiness, and higher levels are distinguished plainly from lower. But the highest level does not transcend human desire; man must bring all into relation with his own well-being. He cannot in opposition to his own well-being adopt something alien as an end in itself; his activity can be aroused for nothing which has not some value for himself. In this case also, therefore, the bounds of his life hold him fast, and, unless these bounds are transcended, the good cannot be distinguished from the useful. Of this a clear confirmation is furnished by the experiences of religions. In their origin they wished to free man from himself and to set him in a new life—whether they promised tranquillity in a surrender to the infinite whole or won a positive content by the revelation of a kingdom of divine love. How soon the succession of events has led back to a quest of happiness! How soon has it become evident that the religions have far less revealed a new world to the majority of mankind than chained them more firmly to the old; and that they easily arouse to greater power the raw instinct of life, which they desired to overcome!
We seem to be shut in on all sides: it seems a monstrous inconsistency to wish to build up from man a world transcending man; to remove him into a world other than that of a man. A world of this kind is, however, essential to the spiritual life; with its abandonment that life is only a delusion; and the less intelligent people who reject as a meaningless folly all striving for the true and the good seem to be right.
Why do we refuse to adopt this view, and to discontinue an endeavour the aims of which appear to be unattainable? In the first place, because the movement cannot be given up so easily as those critics imagine who adopt this view; for it does not consist simply of explanations and theoriesthat might be completely refuted by rigorous argument, but a certain reality has been evolved, desires aroused, forces called into life, and movements inaugurated. Even if they halt in their course they were something; they do not disappear therefore before the attacks of Scepticism; further, however mean their results may be, they prove to be strong enough to indicate the limitations in the life of nature, and to make it inadequate for us. The matter is the more mysterious in that the striving is anything but a product of the natural desire for happiness. For the movement disturbs all our complacency; it leads man to be discontented with that which hitherto had fully satisfied him; it surrounds him with fixed organisations; desires from him much labour and sacrifice, and makes existence, not easier, but more difficult for him. Delusions are wont to deceive us by pleasing pictures; to attract us with the promise of pleasure and enjoyment. How does a delusion, that imposes so much toil and trouble upon us, win so much power over us? There is another matter to be considered in this connection. A complete renunciation can appear possible only because it is not clearly perceived how much which we cannot give up and which ultimately we have no desire to give up is involved in it. Only a want of clearness of thought, and still more a weakness of character, could wish to retain in the particular case what was given up as a whole; could affirm as effect what it denied as cause. As soon as this course is recognised to be impossible, it becomes evident that with the rejection of the spiritual life everything is abandoned which gives to our life dignity, greatness, and inner unity, and joins us to others with an inward bond. Realities such as love and honour, truth and right, must be regarded as empty forms; and even science must come to an end, because there is no longer any inner unity of work, no objective necessity.
Such considerations again show us that a complete negation is impossible; and it seems that we must remain for ever in painful suspense between an unattainable affirmation and an impossible negation. We might be ableto endure this condition of affairs if it concerned a problem which arose in reference to something of little importance to our life, something that we could relegate to the background, and simply permit to lie there, without compromising our life. But our problem lies at the centre of life; is, in fact, itself the centre. To be left in suspense here means to condemn life as a whole to a state of paralysis, to surrender it to complete dissolution. Against this everyone who has any vital energy in him will contend; with his whole might he will seek to escape from a condition so intolerable; he will not hold back from making a bold venture, mindful of the words of Goethe, “Necessity is the best counsellor.”
In seeking a way out of the contradiction, it is essentially necessary not to forget the source of the contradiction. We saw that source to be in the fact that the spiritual life would set up a new world, and at the same time remains bound up with the merely human and presents itself as an endeavour of mere man. To the spiritual life a universal character is indispensable; of this claim nothing can be abated. There must therefore be a change as regards man; it must be that more comes to pass in him than the first impression makes evident. It must be that the spiritual within him, which seems at first to be his own product, is a participation in wider connections; the spiritual must be operative in man, but not originate out of the merely human. It is true that this makes a reversal of the traditional position necessary, and not merely of its representations; and such a reversal provokes serious doubt. Modern science, however, has taught us sufficiently often that the first appearance of anything need not be the ultimate one; that there may be cogent reasons for regarding something that at first seems based in itself as the proof of something existing beyond. Thus, modern natural science has transformed the world of sense into a world present only to the eyes of research. Certainly, science accomplishes these changes within the bounds of experience: on the contrary, in regard to our problem, in which the fundamental form of realityis in question, it is indispensable that we should transcend these bounds; without a change in respect of the whole, and hence without a resort to metaphysics, it is not possible to accomplish our purpose. It is quite clear that the tendency of our time is opposed to appeals to metaphysics: yet it is a question how far this attitude is justified. So far as metaphysics assumes the same form as in the past—that of conceptual speculation of a thought hovering unrestrained over the existing world—then it is rightly opposed. But the attitude is unjustifiable which assumes that with the overthrow of the older metaphysics all metaphysics may be ignored. For a metaphysic can proceed also from the whole life, and need not be a product of mere thought. The implication therefore is this, that the centre of life itself must be changed, and thus a revolution of the previous condition accomplished; that an actuality already operative in life is to be given its rightful place and brought to its full effect. The business of metaphysics, therefore, is not to add something in thought to a reality which lies before us, or to weave such a reality into a texture of conceptions; but to seek to grasp reality in itself, and to rouse it to life in its entire depth for ourselves. Every change of thought then rests on a change of life. Such a metaphysic may appeal to the saying of Hebbel, “Only fools will banish metaphysic from the drama; it makes a great difference, however, whether life evolves out of metaphysic or metaphysic out of life.”
Even if our age rejects a metaphysic of this kind also, if it surrenders itself without resistance to the inconsistencies of the world of sense, this would be the last thing which could deter us from an appeal to metaphysic. For the inner cleavages and the superficiality of the life of our time—and we saw reason to believe that these are facts—stand in the closest relation to the rejection of metaphysics: this rejection has made the age inwardly insignificant. If an indirect proof of the necessity of a revolutionary transformation of life, and at the same time of a metaphysic may be offered, our age furnishes one quite sufficient in itsown experiences; its opposition can be only a recommendation of an appeal to metaphysic.
The one main thesis which it is essentially necessary to establish is analysed in sufficient detail throughout the whole course of our investigation; it simply sums up that which has already been advanced point by point. The intolerable contradiction arises, as we saw, from this, that the spiritual life with its new world should be a product of mere man, and that that life should remain within man and at the same time lead in its essence beyond him. This contradiction cannot be overcome otherwise than by our recognising and acknowledging in the spiritual life a universal life, which transcends man, is shared by him, and raises him to itself. That this transition brings with it a change in the appearance of life and of the world as a whole, and that as a result our striving is brought under entirely different conditions, needs more detailed presentation.
(b) THE DEVELOPMENT OF THE MAIN THESIS
1.The Main Thesis and the Possibility of a New System of Life
(a)The Development of the Spiritual Life to Independence
Ourinvestigation reached its highest point in the demand that the spiritual life should become independent of man. Man cannot produce a spiritual life of his own capacity: a spiritual world must impart itself to him and raise him to itself. It must be shown that this does not by any means signify only a change of name, a new labelling of an old possession, but implies far-reaching changes, and indeed involves a complete reversal of the first condition. At the same time the course of the investigation must establish that this transition to the spiritual life is not something subsequently inferred or offered simply for the explanation of an otherwise unintelligible fact, but that it would overcome a false appearance, and help a misunderstood truth to its right. The fact that is affirmed should become an immediate experience of one’s own and should advance life rather than knowledge. Only the whole investigation and not an introductory consideration can furnish a proof of our contention.
There are within our own soul distinctive movements tending in directions different from those of nature. We recognised that there is a life which proceeds from some kind of comprehensive whole; a life which transcends the opposition of subject and object, and evolves a self-consciousness in contrast with the relation to externals. All these features present a quite different appearance, form a more coherent whole, and will occupy a more definiteposition in the representation of reality, if in them an independent life superior to mere man is recognised and acknowledged. The principal reason for this is that it is only by means of that deliverance from the simply human that the new life is able to express its own nature clearly and to realise as part of its own nature what otherwise seemed to have its source in something external. The individual traits that we become aware of are the revelation of a universal life, if they are no longer regarded as limited by the idiosyncrasies of the human. With this acknowledgment they can gain ascendancy over man and prove their power upon him.
We saw that it is characteristic of the spiritual life that it is lived from the whole; the elements are fashioned by a comprehensive unity; the different complexes and tendencies which arise in this life strive ultimately towards a single aim. We saw also that it was absolutely impossible that the tendency to universality should be originated by man, whose chief movement is towards differentiation and division; and, further, that it should be realised by him in face of the opposition of nature, which extends to the immeasurable in matters great and small. The unity that is necessary for this cannot arise out of the many as an ultimate result; it must be original and be operative from the beginning. We may postulate such a unity only if the spiritual life is itself a universal life transcending that of the isolated individuals; if it bears in itself a unity which takes the multiplicity up into itself. And so the whole from an abstract conception is for the first time raised to a living reality; and only on thus becoming a reality can it exercise a distinctive power upon individuals and in contrast to individuals; and inwardly unite and essentially raise them. Only in this way is it conceivable that another kind of activity having its source within the soul may exert itself in opposition to the mechanism of nature and transcend it; and that selfishness and spiritual weakness may in some way be overcome. Man, so far as he shares in the spiritual life, is more than a mere individual;a universal life becomes his own and works within him as a power of his life.
Further, the taking up of the object into the life-process, the transcendence of the antithesis of subject and object, is characteristic of the spiritual life. But this remained an inner contradiction, a complete impossibility so long as the spiritual life was regarded as an occurrence in a being who, with a closed nature, stands over against things as though they were alien; and who can take up nothing into himself without accommodating it to his own particular nature. The contradiction is removed only when the spiritual becomes independent; for then both sides of the antithesis come to belong to each other and are related to each other in a single life; and a life transcending the division may develop, a life that produces the antithesis from within, lives in the different sides and seeks in them its own perfection. The life-process is now seen to be a movement that is neither from object to subject, nor from subject to object; neither the subject’s attainment of content from the object, nor the object’s becoming controlled by the subject, but an advance of a self-conscious life in and through the antithesis. Life, by this movement, ceases to be a single, thin thread; it wins breadth; it expands to an inner universality. At the same time a depth is manifested in that a persistent and comprehensive activity emerges which lives in the antithesis. In this manner life first becomes a life in a spiritual sense, a self-conscious and self-determining life, a self-consciousness.
That this change is possible and brings with it a new type of life is shown with complete clearness by experience in the separate departments of the spiritual life. Thus, artistic creation at its highest is neither the production of the truest possible copy of an external object, the artist painfully abstaining from all subjective addition; nor a presentation of subjective situations and moods, the artist endeavouring to the utmost to avoid everything objective; but a transcendence of the opposition of soulless objectivity and empty subjectivity by an art that is sovereign,autonomous, and with a character of its own; the creative activity belonging to which gives life from the soul to the object, and moulds the soul by means of the object. This kind of artistic creation is directed primarily towards an inner truth, not towards a truth that is produced by the object, but one that arises only in the contact of the object with the soul. It is manifest that creation is effected here not as an interaction between subject and object, but above and through this antithesis; it is only by transcending the antithesis that the artist can give himself in his work, lend to it a soul, place an infinity within it. In this respect conduct manifests a character similar to that of creation. Conduct would never attain an inner stability and enter upon an independent course, if it could not raise itself above the opposition of a submission to orders that are forced upon it from without, and a mere play of subjective inclination; if it were not able to become the self-assertion and self-development of a life transcending that opposition. At this point also the acknowledgment of an independent spiritual life teaches us to comprehend as a whole that which, in a many-sided development, the different departments of life show to be real.
The obscurity in which the conception of inwardness was hitherto involved begins to disappear when the spiritual life is no longer regarded as supplementary but as an independent life. It cannot be denied that, within humanity, there is an endeavour to develop the life of the soul to a state of self-determining activity and, at the same time, to free that life from the bondage to sense in which it remains at the level of nature. Yet, definite affirmation that shall correspond to the negation of sense has been lacking; it has not been clear how inwardness might find content and characteristic forms; there has been no advance from the subjective to the substantial. But since a universal activity is operative within the multiplicity and through the division, and since it sets itself in the division and from this returns to itself, a self-conscious inwardness becomes conceivable which has a life of its own with newexperiences. Since within this life “to receive” presupposes the comprehending power and the self-determining activity of a vital whole, something other than sense is able to evolve and through all the persistence of sense to become the chief matter. The spiritual life is not directed to a reality adjacent to it, but evolves a reality out of itself; or rather, it evolves as a reality, a kingdom, a world; and so it advances from vague outline to more complete development; it struggles for itself, for its own perfection, not for anything external.
It is directly implied in the above conception that the spiritual life is something different from single psychical functions, such as cognition, volition, and the like; and that man, so far as he shares in it, is more than one such function or a sum of such functions. For these functions come under the antithesis of subject and object, while the spiritual life transcends it. It is also clear that the spiritual life does not change this or that in a life which already exists, or add this or that to it, but that it introduces a new kind of life—a life by which man is distinguished clearly from everything inferior to him.
If the spiritual life is an evolution of a reality in the life-process, then the question arises as to how this reality is related to the world that immediate experience shows us to be surrounded by. As surely as man in his subjective reflection is able to free himself from the world and to place himself in opposition to it, so there can be no doubt that the spiritual life belongs to the permanent reality of the world and, as we see it, grows up out of its movement. The transition to an independent inwardness is not something which happens externally to the world but within it: no special sphere, separate from all the rest, is originated; but reality itself evolves an inner life: it is the world itself that reveals a spiritual depth, or, as we might say, a soul. We are not justified in doubting and attacking this view simply because the spiritual life meets us only in man, and thus, in contrast with the infinity of nature, is in its external manifestation so insignificant.For something essentially new appears in it, something that involves another order of things: the fact that little falls within our range of vision is in this connection not at all relevant. If anyone is disturbed and driven to denial by the external insignificance of the manifestations of the spiritual life, he shows only that he misunderstands what is distinctive and revolutionising in that life. The spiritual life is not to be thought of merely in reference to the experiences of the individual, but also to the work of humanity, to history, to the advance of culture. All these show us a development of life that presents the world from a new side; and this must be an important factor in the estimation of the world, especially if the spiritual is recognised as having a life independent of man.
The inward must necessarily present itself as the fundamental and the comprehensive; as that which in its invisibility sustains, dominates, and unifies the visible world. Nature, which there was a tendency to regard as the whole, is now of the essence of a wider reality and a stage in its development; and it is impossible for the conception formed from it to be regulative of the whole. Ultimately, therefore, reality cannot be regarded as something dead, detached, and given: it signifies to us something living, something experienced in itself, something sustained by incessant activity. At the same time, the lateness of the appearance of the spiritual life within our realm and the many ways in which this appearance is conditioned force us to acknowledge that the life of the world as a whole has a history. The conception of history that we have become familiar with in its application to nature and to the spiritual life throughout is now extended to the relation between the two. However many mysteries it yet involves, definite progress in our conception of the world must be admitted.
Most of all it is man with his life and endeavour that appears in a new light. Two worlds meet together in him, and, indeed, not merely in such a manner that he provides the place in which they meet and enter intoconflict, but so that he acquires an independent participation in the new world, and through his own decision co-operates in its development. For spiritual life, with its self-determining activity, can never become itself as a mere effect; to become this it must be apprehended and roused to activity as cause. But it is cause and animating power only in its being as a whole; so, as a whole it must be present to man and become his own life. Thus, in contrast to the particularity of his natural existence, a life having its source in the infinite grows up within him: in the former a mere part of a world; in the latter he becomes a world in himself: in the one, bound up with the particular nature of man; in the other, he is elevated above all particularity to something more than human, to something cosmic.
To such changes in the content of life there must be corresponding changes in its form. Empirical consciousness with its discreteness and succession of presentations and states cannot possibly comprehend the new life; to do that the soul must acquire a greater depth. It must be capable of an activity which, with single phases, extends into this consciousness, but which as a whole and in its creative work must transcend it. With the acknowledgment of an independent spiritual life in man two questions giving rise to different methods of treatment necessarily become distinguished: the one as to the nature and extent of the spiritual that is revealed in him; and the other, how, under the specific conditions of his nature, it emerges and establishes itself. It will become evident how important it is to distinguish these sufficiently, and yet on the other hand to associate them closely.
(b)The Demands of a New System of Life
If the acknowledgment of an independent spirituality thus alters the view of reality as a whole, and in particular of man, we are faced with the question whether we may notattain a new synthesis through this spirituality, and whether it does not begin a characteristic formation of our world. Our treatment of the philosophies of life of the present day makes it possible for us to approach this question with definite demands. We saw life branch off in different movements, each of which took up into itself a wealth of fact; but we found none of them strong enough to absorb the others into itself, or even able to estimate them. If life is not finally to fall into dissolution, it needs, in contrast to these movements, one more universal in character, and this can be more than a weak compromise only when there is a still more fundamental relation of life than that which the developments that we have considered proffered. In that case the more original basal relation ought to be able to manifest itself as a presupposition of those developments; it should make intelligible how divisions can originate in the condition of man; in particular it should illuminate the opposition between the idealistic and the naturalistic systems of life—an opposition which, like a deep gulf, divides the life of the present. In short, it should depend upon whether the change that results with the acknowledgment of the independence of the spiritual life makes it possible for us permanently to transcend those oppositions and to work towards their reconciliation. But we ought then to see that, with its universality, the system of life striven for does not fall into a state vague and lacking in character. Through its whole being, in affirmation and in negation, the system of life must definitely express itself; it must synthesise and differentiate, elevate and exclude. But it will be able to do this only if it produces a new kind of life-process and a new web of life: only thus can essentially new evaluations and tasks, new experiences and genuine developments, originate; only thus can life as a whole be definitely raised. Of course, this new cannot signify something that has just been discovered and that has arisen suddenly. How could it be a truth which gives to us security, and how could it dominate our life, if it is not rooted in our being, and ifit had not exerted an influence at all times? But it makes a great difference whether the new has been concealed, obscure and against the tendency of our own activity; or whether it is taken up fully in our own self-determining activity and thereby essentially advanced. If, on the one hand, the new must be something old, on the other hand the old must become something new if it is to liberate, strengthen, and elevate our life where its needs are so urgent.
(c)The Spiritual Basis of the System of Life
There can be no doubt that the acknowledgment of the independence of the spiritual life involves the recognition of a new fundamental relation of our life. This relation is no other than that of man to the spiritual world, which is immanent in him and at the same time transcends him. It is more original than the relations implied in the systems of the present day; for these, even though contrary to their own knowledge and intention, all presuppose this fundamental relation to the spiritual life. Religion could not be so violently attacked and so zealously denied by so many, if the relation of life to God were the absolute relation and were present before all others. The value of religion depends essentially upon the content of the spiritual life which it serves. With the mere relation of life to a supernatural power, the nature of which is not more closely defined—with mere blind devotion—nothing of value is attained. An honest religious attitude of a formal kind can go together, on the one hand, with spiritual poverty and blindness, and, on the other, with hatred and passion. How sad the condition of things in general has often been even when religion has shown a strong development of power! How often the help of divine power has been invoked even in the commission of crime! If, however, the value of religion and its effect on the substance of life are measured according to its spiritual content, then this content necessarily becomes the chief object of attentionand conduct. We can assure ourselves of the relation to a supernatural power only from the experiences of the spiritual life, and not previously to this life and independently of it. The relation of life to the spiritual life must therefore necessarily precede its relation to God; life must be certain of a universal spiritual character before it can assume a truly religious one.
We find the case to be no different as regards the system of Immanent Idealism. It is open to considerable doubt whether the world as it lies before us can be looked upon as a pure unfolding of the spiritual life, as this Idealism asserts. In any case, for the spiritual life to comprehend the world within itself it must itself be established as a universal power, and clearly distinguished from mere man. Otherwise the way of Immanent Idealism leads to an anthropomorphism of a more refined kind; and there is a danger that the whole world which this system champions may be criticised hostilely and rejected as simply human. Immanent Idealism, therefore, also points to the problem of substantial spiritual life.
The naturalistic systems do the same thing in a different way, and this, indeed, in contradiction to their main contention. For, when they attempted to produce a system from themselves, they could achieve their object only in that they were implicitly based upon the spiritual life, and introduced again indirectly that which they had previously rejected. They are developments of the spiritual life in particular directions and under particular circumstances: they think that they are able to accomplish out of their own resources something which they accomplish only with the help of a fundamental spiritual life; and so the more consistent they are in their denial of an independent spirituality the more inevitably they lose all internal coherence.
Thus from whatever point we start we come to the question of an independent spirituality; an answer to this question is involved in every system of life. But as its implications are not distinctly recognised, it does not receive its properdue. If we consider the question adequately, it will be found that a universal life must precede all differentiation and division; and that from this life each movement must receive a new elucidation. A multiplicity within the whole is quite intelligible, because it is a development of the spiritual life, not absolutely, that is in question, but in relation to the position of man and under the conditions to which he is subject. The desire to give greater stability to our life in opposition to the never-ceasing flow of appearances that constitutes our immediate existence, also compels us strongly to emphasise the importance of the relation to the spiritual life, which is acknowledged as independent. Without an elevation above this constant change all spiritual work must inevitably become disintegrated, and no truth of any kind would be possible to us. In the Modern Age especially there is a keen desire for a firm basis, as a secure support of life as a whole. But it is useless to seek this basis in life as we immediately experience it, whether in thought, in activity, or in anything else; for in the whole life of immediate experience there is nothing that is free from change. To seek this basis in a particular point is also to no purpose, even if one could be raised to a position above change; for it could not operate beyond itself in such a way as to support the rest of life. If, therefore, we would not submit to a dissolution of life, we must seek a basis for it beyond its immediate state and in a whole of life. Such a whole of life is offered only by the spiritual life, which, transcending man, is also immanent in him. Of course this cannot be taken possession of immediately at the beginning of the journey of life; but it is held up to us as an aim, and we can only gradually approach it. But how could it operate within us thus, if our life had not some kind of participation in it from the beginning; if our life were not in some way based in the spiritual life, and in progressive activity only developed the spiritual that is in it? For unless we are based in the spiritual life we should drift helplessly to and fro in uncertainty, and our endeavour would never be intelligible. From thispoint of view also, our relation to the spiritual life is seen to be the fundamental problem that must precede all others.
If there can be no doubt that the problem of life is comprehended most universally when we view it in relation to the spiritual life, there may be all the more uncertainty whether all characteristic form and, with it, all deep-reaching effect are not lost by reason of this universality. If the conception of the spiritual life involved its usual vagueness, this would in reality be the case, for recourse to it would not effect any fundamental transformation of the immediate condition of life; and we should not rise above the mere combination of its various movements. The case is quite otherwise if the spiritual life is distinguished clearly from the human and is acknowledged to be an independent world. So understood, it must show a particular content, a new structure of life, and must give a distinct form to everything that it takes up into itself. It is necessary to consider, also, its relation to the world of sense, and we may expect to be faced in this matter with complications and problems that will agitate our life in its whole extent, and set it in a new light.
In the spiritual life we recognised a new world, a realm of inwardness, which has become independent. Within this realm life cannot be directed to something alien, but can be occupied only with itself, with its own development. Its experiences cannot be related to externals; they must lie in itself. Now, have we any knowledge of a movement that reaches back in this manner to the elements of life? We perceive a movement of this kind clearly enough. In the first place, all development of the spiritual life shows, even within the individual, the attribute that a universal mode of thought, conviction, disposition, sets itself in the single function and continues present within it. The tendencies and manifestations of the spiritual are not all at the same level of development, but since a universal activity, a comprehensive and persistent deed, is present in the particular manifestation, the process acquires adepth, and a single act is able to give expression to a tendency of the whole as well as to react upon it.
But this movement extends beyond the immediate state of the soul of the individual to spiritual work, and gives it a particular form. Life as a whole, as reality’s consciousness of itself, may be regarded as throughout capable of a multiplicity, as containing within itself different sides and possibilities. Since its evolution produces this multiplicity, life as a whole can express itself in the individual aspects and tendencies; expand them till they become different departments; experience itself in particular ways in these departments, and in so doing achieve a development of its own; it is able also to bring these departments and their developments into their relation to one another. Since thus, within the world as a whole, life concentrates in different ways, and the particular tendencies which thus arise meet and enter into conflict with one another, and since their conflict is in particular a contest to determine the form of the whole, there is revealed the prospect of a wealth of experiences which come not from without but out of the movement of life itself, and spring from its occupation with itself. The conflict between the different movements of life must bring the whole into a state of tension and lead it to further development. In the progressive formation of itself, in the development of a reality conscious of itself, life through its movement finds itself and develops a content. This movement will summon all the psychical powers of man to activity; it cannot possibly proceed from them. If we are to take part in the building up of that inner world, a spiritual creative activity from the basis of our being must be operative through these psychical functions, uniting them, and applying them as means and instruments.
If, for us men, life becomes conscious of its content only through movement and conflict, nevertheless this content may not be regarded as ultimately proceeding from them. If, as a whole, life did not transcend movement and conflict, if the latter were not included within a self-consciousand self-determining life, then they could yield no inner result, and could not lead to the further development of the whole. The attempts to derive this self-conscious and self-determining life from ontological conceptions such as “being,” “whole,” “movement,” and so on, as the older metaphysics often undertook to do; or the tendency to treat it only as a supplement to them, are to be dismissed most decisively. The fundamental qualities that the spiritual life evolves always presuppose a self-conscious life and become intelligible only in relation to it. Without it, the conceptions of the true and the good remain in complete obscurity, as will be shown later in more detail.
If our human reflection often advances from the indefinite to the definite, from the abstract to the concrete, this does not involve that the latter is originated from the former: the advance could not be achieved unless that which comes at the end was operative from the beginning as its basis and presupposition.
If a self-conscious life unfolds itself with an increasing content through all departments and activities of life, then these departments will have their meaning and their value primarily in that which they accomplish for the further development of that life, and in the particular tendencies that they add to it: this yields a treatment and a standard of value different from those which we are led to if we make the psychical states of the individual our starting-point. The treatment of religion, for example, as a mere occurrence of an unrestrained psychical life may understand by religion a particular agitation of this or that psychical function; but with this we do not obtain a spiritual content. Again, it is not evident how a world of thought formed from such an individual psychical life could acquire an independence of man, and lift him above the position in which it finds him. The problem of religion attains quite a different basis if the spiritual movements and contents which emerge with it are emphasised; with this it develops and discloses the reality of the spiritual life more deeply. Then through it we may discover andwin something that alters the condition of life, transcends the immediate life of the soul, and is able to exert an elevating influence upon man. The value and the truth of a particular religion will be judged in the first place by the nature of the spiritual substance that it offers, and the degree in which, in its advance, it is able to join itself to the movement of life as a whole and to guide it further. A great divergence is possible between this spiritual substance and the movement and passion that call forth a religion on the basis of humanity: the real is, in human relations, by no means without further consideration to be regarded as rational.
The case of the other departments of life is the same as that of religion: the character and the value of all achievement depend entirely upon the range and the kind of substantial spirituality that they evolve. The same is valid of whole epochs and cultures, of peoples and individuals. The exertion of the greatest energy upon externals and the most revolutionary transformation of human conditions cannot protect us from becoming inwardly destitute, or lead us beyond mere appearance to genuine reality. On the contrary, the experience of history shows often enough that spiritual revivals have been accompanied in their origin and growth by manifestations externally insignificant; and that something which struggles against the broad stream of human life fundamentally changes the standards and values of our existence.
Our whole spiritual life, therefore, constitutes a problem; it is an indefatigable seeking and pressing forward. In self-consciousness the framework is given which has to be filled; in it we have acquired only the basis upon which the superstructure has to be raised. We have to find experiences in life itself, to reveal something new, to develop life, to increase its range and its depth. The endeavour to advance in spirituality, to win itself through struggle, is the soul of the life of the individual and of the work of universal history: where there is no endeavour of this kind, there is no true life and no genuine history; ouractivity in relation to the world as a whole assumes a different form, and the world is represented differently and presents to us different problems according to that which is attained here in the basal structure of life. Life’s struggle for itself, for its own content, its own truth, is the greatest and most intense of all struggles.
The passion which animates all the endeavour after a revelation of life and to win life itself is no other than the desire for a genuine reality: for a being within the activity, for a full as opposed to an empty life. If the formation of reality from within once begins, and the desire for a substantial inwardness gains the day over the merely subjective, then the intolerable inadequacy of all that is usually called life is bound to be strongly felt. The growth of intelligence has led man beyond the life of nature and its blind actuality. In intelligence, the inner life already proves far too independent to be satisfied with being a mere appearance accompanying nature. With this evolution the psychical powers win a greater freedom, and man is able to face his environment more boldly: indeed, in his thought he can grasp an infinity; and in arousing and using all his powers he may hope from his own position, in the interaction of subject and environment, to give to life a content, and thus to make it a genuine life. But here the limitation of man and the contradictory character of life as it is immediately experienced soon come to be felt. All the rousing of forces, all the passing backwards and forwards between subject and object that we experience in the immediate condition of life, does not lead beyond interaction, and yields no content: it does not raise life to a self-conscious and self-determining life; so that, in spite of all its activity, our life in this condition remains inwardly alien. There is thus an enormous disparity between the means that are offered and the aims that are reached; an inward unrest; an incessant conflict, without any prospect of victory, against the ever-recurring tendency to become spiritually destitute; a state of dissatisfaction in the midst of all results of an external kind.Only the revelation of a self-conscious life, a life which itself evolves as a reality, can be the source of progress, and lead from appearances and shadows to a genuine life.
It is apparent that with such an aim a task is presented that dominates and comprehends the whole extent of our existence. We have to take up everything into that self-conscious and self-determining life and to transform the condition of life as it lies immediately before us. A demand of this kind is not limited to a change of this or that; it implies a complete transformation and renewal. It not only involves the whole multiplicity of life, but it must also itself tend to bring about an increase in the multiplicity; indeed, this task first gives the multiplicity a firm foundation and an inner value. For the development and the formation of self-conscious life, it is essential, as we saw, that life concentrate in particular tendencies and departments; that the whole place itself in them, and return to itself from them; and that by this they develop a life of their own and give rise to their own experiences. To act thus, to advance the whole in its own development, the individual concentrations of life must possess an inner spiritual unity which comprehends and dominates all multiplicity. This is seen in the case of individuals, peoples, epochs, and whole civilisations: only by overcoming the state of confusion and division in which they at first find themselves do they come to wrestle with the spiritual life as a whole and win a spiritual character. These unities of life, however, will enter into the most diverse relations with the whole and with one another; and since in so doing they further self-conscious and self-determining life, they develop reality without limit. From all the facts we have considered we see that, with the attainment of independence by the spiritual life, there emerges a distinctive kind of being which everywhere exerts its activity, holds up a new aim, and desires a transformation: life is for the first time placed on a firm foundation, and taken possession of in the deepest source of its movement.
(d)Human Existence
For the construction of a new system of life, this independent nature of the spiritual life is primary and most essential. Such construction is dependent in the second place upon the relation in which the development of the self-conscious and self-determining life of reality stands to the position and to the activity of man; in particular whether it wins this position and activity for itself with ease or meets with definite opposition. Now, there cannot be any doubt that the recognition of the fact of the development of the spiritual life to independence of man, as we traced it, must make us feel that the state of things at the usual level of human life is most unsatisfactory. It is not that one or another aspect is inadequate, but that as a whole it is definitely opposed to the requirements of an independent spiritual life. For the spirituality that is evolved here is treated for the most part as a mere means in the pursuit of human welfare. Civilisation, at the level at which we are most accustomed to it, lifts man above mere nature, but at the same time it forces him into rivalry and conflict with his equals, and leads him to expect happiness from victory. This is the case not only among individuals but also among nations. Since the desire and the conflict for more generate an indescribable amount of excitement and passion, life seems to be full, whereas in reality it is entirely lacking in content, and behind the tumult is felt to be empty. But man has no intention of giving up all claim to a share in genuine spirituality: and so he gives a better outward appearance to his endeavour and his conduct, and practises deceit upon himself as well as upon others. Genuine spiritual life cannot possibly proceed from circumstances so contradictory and so confused. Neither can such circumstances produce the concentration of life that is necessary for the strengthening and advancement of the spiritual life. It is not the abuse of some one thing that provokes attack: it is not a particular failing, but the ordinary daily course which, unresistingly, man is accustomedto accept as his world, that shows in its successes no less than in its failures the greatest divergence from genuine spirituality. It is just at the point where man becomes proud of his own doings and makes much ostentatious display that he can least of all conceal the spiritual poverty and the foolishness of his way of thinking.
Attempts to attribute the responsibility of all limitation to man and his will, to find the root of all evil in the moral failings of humanity, have not been wanting. Universal religions have given these attempts an embodiment. It has seemed as though the harmony of reality is only disturbed by man, and as though his moral restoration were the only thing necessary to lead to all good. To be sure, such a way of thinking manifests a disposition of great seriousness, and it may appeal to the fact that the perplexity of our existence is nowhere more real than in reference to the ethical problem. Still, there is no possibility of doubt for the man of the Modern Age that this conception is too narrow; that it not only contradicts indisputable impressions and experiences, but also takes the question much too subjectively and too anthropomorphically, and thus falls into the danger of doing harm to the cause that it wishes to serve. It is not simply our disposition, it is our being as a whole and the circumstances that we are in, which obstinately oppose the emergence and the development of an independent spiritual world. It is the most elementary forms of life themselves that prevent the elevation of our existence to the level of a genuine spiritual life. We cannot blind ourselves to the fact that the greater part of our life is bound up with a form of existence in which it is not able to embrace the spiritual life. Any kind of appropriation of the spiritual—if it is at all possible—can be effected therefore only in opposition to that form of existence. In genuine spiritual life all movement should proceed from the whole and should be sustained by the whole, even when it is concentrated in the individual departments and tendencies. Human existence presents the spectacle of individuals ranged side by side; and ifa movement to overcome the original inertia is to begin at all, their impulses, their desire for happiness, and their conflicts are necessary. The spiritual life knows no limits; it works and creates from the infinite whole: the individual is narrowly limited, and with all his activity and work constitutes but a tiny point in the infinite whole. The spiritual life presents its content as transcending time; even if for us it is only gradually revealed, time is in this a mere means to the presentation of an eternal and immutable truth: man, however, drifts with time; is dependent upon the momentary situation, and experiences himself in an incessant change: how can he comprehend the eternal? Spiritual creation is effected in the transcending of the antithesis of subject and object: human endeavour is conditioned by this antithesis. The former with its self-determining activity overcomes from within the attachment to sense: man even in the highest flight of his endeavour cannot withdraw himself from it. From the altitudes occupied by the spiritual life submission to the impulses and the goods of sense seems to be something mean and base: and yet without these man cannot possibly preserve his life; he has not conferred sensuous needs and desires upon himself by an act of will, but finds himself endowed with them from the beginning. Spiritual life with its formation from within banishes from itself all mechanism; all compulsion of blind actuality: without a mechanism in thought and in conduct, without habits and methods determined by custom, human life cannot attain to an enduring stability either in the case of the individual or in that of society. Thus, through the ever-present necessity of self-preservation and self-renewal, human life is compulsorily related to something, bound to something, that not only is not adequate to fulfil the tasks of an independent spiritual life, but is directly opposed to them. There is something in our life which we cannot dispense with, yet which, from the spiritual point of view, it is an imperative duty to shake off.
We see clearly enough that it is not merely our will thatis in play, but that two worlds conflict within us, and that the world to which we primarily belong, according to the testimony of experience, holds us fixed with superior power, and draws back to itself all movement which strives upward. If, in particular, the dimness and the weakness of the spiritual life in man; its severance from its source; its disintegration into isolated powers; and, finally, the moral perversity which human existence exhibits, and the debasement of spiritual power to a mere means for natural or social self-preservation, become clear to us, then it is evident that a compromise between such a pitiable and shallow confusion and a genuine spiritual life is absolutely impossible. The acknowledgment of an independent spiritual world tends only to increase the contradiction and make us more clearly conscious of it.
A clear consciousness of the inadequacy of the human is especially important and necessary in contrast to the utter confusion which reigns with regard to the spiritual life and vitiates the whole of the endeavour of the present. The increasing transference of life to the world of sense has led the present age to abandon all inner bonds of mankind. The endeavour of Antiquity to lift our life above the insignificantly human by giving it a share in the greatness and magnificence of the whole, and the attempt of Christianity to give a new nature to life from the relation to God, appear to the present age to be Utopian. Since the faith of modern Idealism in the immanent universal reason has become more and more dim, man is thrown back more and more exclusively upon himself, upon man as he is, upon empirical society. There has grown up a strong belief that this empirical existence is quite sufficient in itself, and is able to satisfy our spiritual needs from itself. The ennobling of man, the improvement of his condition within this existence, becomes the aim of aims. Now, this presupposes that within the province of man, the good, even if it does not entirely preponderate, is still confident of a triumphant advance. It presupposes, further, that the establishment of a certain state of life will bring completehappiness with it. At the same time, all that is disagreeable in human experience—the power of selfishness and pride; the weakness of love; the feebleness of all spiritual impulse; the incessant increase of the struggle for existence, with the consequent degeneration of the inwardness of the whole—appears with dazzling clearness to the more refined perception of the modern man. After even a little consideration he cannot doubt that, if, in spite of all limitations, an unclouded state of human well-being could be established; if all pain could be banished from our life, life would fall into the power of the other and worse enemy—emptiness and monotony. As a refuge from such perplexities there is a tendency to flee to society and history. From the point of view of humanity as a whole and with the thought of a better future, all defects and losses of individuals seem to vanish; the hope of an unceasing progressive development rises above the feeling of the unsatisfactoriness of the condition of the moment. But what are these relations of empirical humanity other than those of a mere collection of individuals who never become an inner community, and what is empirical history other than a mere succession which never produces an inner unity of movement? In the appeal to the former, as in that to the latter, it is only surreptitiously that something essential can appear to be acquired. In reality, conceptions are here made use of which in other relations have a meaning, but which here signify nothing more than empty abstractions, simply subjective constructions of thought. However, notwithstanding all the glossing over, the real state of things must ultimately assert itself: pessimism must then be the last word, and the belief in a rationality in human existence must finally be given up. The faith in the greatness of the empirical man is, indeed, of all faiths the boldest. For, if the other faiths proclaim a new reality in contrast with the world of sense, they have the possibility of one in an invisible world. In the case that we are considering, however, experience itself must offer more than mere experience; we must not only be certain of a thing that we do notsee, but that which we do not see must coincide with that which exists immediately before us. Such a position is no longer a faith, but a gross contradiction, a complete absurdity.
(e)Results and Prospects
The immediate experience of man may by no means be rejected as a whole on this account; if it were, spiritual work itself would degenerate and lack content. However, we only need to take up into a whole the impressions and experiences which each in his sphere acknowledges to be indisputable, and it will be clear that a movement toward spiritual independence can never proceed from such a pitiable state of confusion as that which is thereby seen to exist. It is essential that the movement toward spiritual independence have an independent starting point, and proceed on its own course. Only then is it able to select and appropriate the spirituality that exists in those confused experiences, and at the same time purify and strengthen it. We may most decisively reject all presumption to sovereignty on the part of the human realm; nevertheless, for the construction of a spiritual world that realm cannot be dispensed with. For this construction is not peacefully and securely accomplished through the self-development of a spiritual power placed in us, as was supposed by those who attempted to represent reality as a whole as a cosmic process of thought. If through the joyfulness of its faith and the definiteness of its undertaking this attempt captivated the minds of men for a time, at last it was frustrated by the fact that we men do not find ourselves immediately in the atmosphere of reason, but have first through toil to raise ourselves into it; that we have to do not with absolute spiritual life, but with spiritual life under the conditions and limitations of human existence. Thus, in the first place an independent spiritual life, a universal self-consciousness, must work in us and be changed in our activity; and this canbe accomplished only by a revolutionary transformation of life as we immediately experience it; only by the attainment of a new point of view. But if at this point of view certain fundamentals of a new world become evident, they are as yet only fundamentals, and, without the help of a world of immediate existence, without recourse to the movements and experiences of human life, they cannot be completely developed and embodied. The complete development of a self-conscious reality is by no means made possible by combining an original spiritual movement with the world of sense brought to meet it. For the spiritual life can be furthered by coming into contact with that world only so far as the spiritual life takes it up and transforms it; the situation is rather that the spiritual movement wrests a content from sense experience and at the same time is raised in itself; it is a realisation of self through the other. The further the movement advances the more one may win one’s own in what is apparently alien; the more that which is really alien may be separated and opposed. Thus we have a characteristic picture of the spiritual life in man; only the more detailed treatment can confirm it.
The matter of greatest importance to the whole, and the one upon which all hope of success rests, is that the movement towards an independent spirituality, to the building up of a new world, should, in spite of the opposition of immediate circumstances, become manifest also in the human sphere in characteristic operation, and that it should establish stable bases in this sphere and rise upon them to the highest by means of work. We have now to investigate more closely, to demonstrate more exactly, and as far as possible to show that at all the chief points of life such movements begin; that one such movement advances another; and that all are associated in a community of striving, and that from here the spiritual movement that we see in history is lit up, strengthened, and for the first time rendered practicable.
2.The Transformation and the Elevation of Human Life
(a)Aims and Ways
The question before us is whether any kind of transcendence of the gulf between the spiritual world and man is effected; whether that world, in spite of its antithesis to the world of sense, manifests itself also with a characteristic effect in our sphere, and thereby inaugurates a movement which takes possession of our whole life and advances it. Only on the result of such an inquiry can we judge whether man is able again to establish his position, which has been so shaken in the course of modern culture; and to save the courage and faith of life from violent changes and convulsions. At the same time we must ascertain whether the representation of the spiritual life that we have sketched is true in reference to things as they are found in the human sphere.
To be sure, proof or verification through experience is, in the case of this problem, in the highest degree peculiar. No definite reality spreads itself before us by which we must test the validity of our representations of thought. Representation and object cannot be simply brought into coincidence, but as life, which we wish to comprehend, is found in movement, and as, further, in immediate experience genuine fact and the form assumed by it in the idea of man are confused, so the revelation of the spiritual life does not come to us immediately, but has first to be extricated and wrested from the most diverse errors and half-truths. Every attempt to obtain proof from experience rests on the conviction that a movement of the kind, the recognition of which is being fought for by us, is already in some way in process everywhere where human life goes beyond mere nature; and that only the clear comprehension of the aim and the taking it up with complete self-conscious and self-determining activity are lacking. If now the aim which is presented is the right one, that is,that which is implied in the spiritual movement of life itself, then its acknowledgment and appropriation must tend to the elucidation, the unification, and the strengthening of all endeavour tending in the direction of this movement; it must lead to a development and an elevation of life above the condition in which it is immediately experienced. In the first place, it must be shown that the connections, preparations, directions in life in its general condition, tend towards the new according to its chief demands; and, further, it must be shown that the existing condition is raised essentially through becoming comprehended by the revealed universal movement, and is led to its own perfection. Again, it has to be shown that thus life wins a more precise content and a greater power in its every aspect: that which is present in all human endeavour as a necessary requirement must now become more intelligible, and at the same time from something impossible of fulfilment to something possible, and reveal new aspects and new tasks. Further, those elements which at first sight exist unconnected side by side and tend to limit one another must unite, and must strengthen one another. On the other hand, divisions must arise: it is as necessary energetically to reject that which follows wrong aims as to come to a peaceful settlement with that which errs only in the means. The antitheses which the work of humanity contains must also become intelligible, and at the same time a way must be prepared by which these antitheses may be overcome, not one by which merely a compromise between them may be arrived at. The breaking forth of the new must tend always toward the self-elevation of life; with arousing and strengthening power, it must take up the whole of life into its movement: it must demonstrate a transcendence of all the reflection and subjectivity of man, and this can be accomplished only through the disclosure of new forms and contents of life. Accordingly attention must in the first place be centred upon the pointing out of such new forms and contents.
The union of the spiritual life with man, its being firmly rooted in him, is seen to be at the same time something old and something new—something old in so far as it must have been existent and in some way effective from the beginning, something new in so far as its distinct emergence and its transition to a state of self-determining activity must alter the condition of things essentially; in fact, must turn life as a whole into a problem. Where the reality of man is reduced, as by Hegel, solely to an unfolding of thought and cognition, the present may find its most important task in the complete clarification and appropriation of the past; life comes to complete satisfaction in the drawing of historical achievement to itself. Where it is a question of the building up of a reality based on self-conscious and self-determining activity, when we ourselves share in such activity, we must find ourselves in an essentially different relation to things; and with all the connection with the past, life will press forward, changing and elevating in contrast with the whole past.
A contact, indeed a union, must therefore be established between the independent spiritual world—which in some way must be operative in us—and the activity of our own which struggles upward; and, through the gain of such a contact, that world must be led to more complete organisation, and that which strives upward made secure, unified, and advanced. In this it is essential that the movements and the demands which the fundamental idea of the spiritual life contains be present to our minds. The spiritual life appears, so we saw reason to believe, in the first place, to be something essentially new in contrast to the life of nature. The spiritual life is not the product of a gradual development from the life of nature, but has an independent origin, and evolves new powers and standards: new beginnings must, therefore, be recognisable in us if the spiritual life is to become our life. The new, however, manifested a development of the inner life toindependence in opposition to its state of subjection at the level of nature, and so thus in man also the inner life must in some way come to itself and attain to freedom. We saw, further, that this development to independence cannot be brought about through new achievements in a given world, but that it needs the building up of a new world—a new basis for life: it extends even to the final basal forms; not any kind of activity could suffice, but a being within the activity, or, rather, a division of activity into something sustaining and comprehending on the one hand, and something demonstrating and producing on the other, is necessary. It is only thus that life becomes turned toward itself and elevated to a self-conscious life; activity to self-determining activity; experience to self-conscious experience. Man could not participate in such a self-conscious and self-determining life, if in him also a new life, a spiritual self, had not begun to be in some way. It is impossible for this self to be merely individual in nature: it can change the form of things and convey a new world only if it encompasses the multiplicity and experiences it as its own. An infinite self-conscious and self-determining life must not only include man within itself; it must become his own life, his true self.
To realise this life, this self, in more detail and to pass from mere impulse to fruitful work, such as the building up of a new reality necessitates, man must in some way transcend in his own sphere the mere juxtaposition of individual powers. Connections must be formed within the realm of man that somehow deal with that task and advance towards its accomplishment in a way that is beyond the capacity of individuals. A transcendence of the antithesis of subject and object, that dominates the greater part of life, is also essential to the new life; an energetic revolution must raise life to a state of resting upon itself, to autonomy: and so in man also movements must appear in opposition to this antithesis—condensations and concentrations, in which life from being a movement hither and thither becomes a forming of reality from within. Inthese connections only out of a self-development of life has a reality arisen at all; and its content was not there complete at the outset, but was yielded only through the continuance of that self-development: it must be shown, therefore, that in man also life begins to turn toward itself, and that this makes it possible to attempt tasks which to our capacity are otherwise inaccessible.
It is necessary to acknowledge that in all the spiritual movement which appears in the domain of man, there is a revelation of the spiritual world: as merely human power cannot lead the whole to new heights, in all development of the spiritual life the communication of the new world must precede the activity of man. At the same time, where we are concerned with a life that is independent, and of which the activity is conscious and self-determined, the change cannot possibly simplyhappen toman: it must be taken up by his own activity; it needs his own decision and acceptance.
We shall consider the question of the possibility of this almost immediately: so much, however, is certain—that this necessity of a decision by man himself makes the matter far more complex and of far greater risk. The establishment of an independent spiritual life in man finds its chief enemy not in nature, but in the limitation and perversion of spiritual impulse through man’s subordinating it to his own ends. The chief conflict is not between spirit and nature, but between real and false spirituality. Thus thought emerges in man, seeks a representation of the world and would in this attain to truth; but when this striving first appears, man is wont to treat himself as the central point of the whole, to measure the whole of infinity according to what it achieves in relation to him, and to see reflections of himself throughout its whole extent. And so we have the anthropomorphic way of thinking, the nature of which we have become aware of only through toil during the progress of the work of culture; a way of thinking from which it has needed even more toil to protect ourselves, and which, in forms often hardly noticeable,is ever ready to appear again and to draw the spiritual movement into its paths. With the emergence of the spiritual life, man becomes more free in relation to his environment; more free also in relation to the necessities of mere nature: his activity can exert itself more independently, concern itself with lofty aims, strive towards the infinite. But all this capacity becomes drawn into the service of the human; the wishes and the desires of the individual grow to an enormous extent. Since out of the struggle for existence, with its natural limitation, an interminable struggle for more existence arises, naïve self-preservation becomes transformed into an unrestricted egoism. That the more-than-human which appears in the domain of man should be employed to the advancement of the merely human is a danger that is present even at the highest stages of development: at one time man would prove his own power in the more-than-human; at another, and this more especially, he treats it as a means to attain his material welfare. Religion, for example, would reveal to man a new depth of reality, and so create a new life for him; and yet, how often even this new reality is degraded to a means for the preservation of his insignificant personality, and regarded as something which on his behalf guides the whole world aright!
The development of the spiritual life in the human sphere can thus be seen to be anything but a sure and steady progress; every step forward brings new dangers; unutterable confusion arises through the use and the perversion of the new in the interests of man. But, if the development of the spiritual life within man is thus an unceasing conflict against human error, this conflict, despite its exhibition of the littleness of man, is at the same time a witness to his greatness. For it shows not only that the spiritual movement needs the active co-operation of man, but also that there is a conflict within humanity itself against the perversion of the spiritual; that there must be more within man and operative in him than the narrowly human. Indeed, in nothing does man seem greater than in thisdevelopment of a more-than-human within the domain of man, in this severe and untiring conflict with himself. How could this conflict arise and become the soul of universal history if man did not possess a life and being transcending his particularity, and if he did not realise more in himself than we at the first glance see in him? The error of Positivism is that, although it shows most clearly how this spiritual movement dissolves the forms of life as it is immediately experienced, it does not perceive and value the fact that, at the same time, a new life, an inner life emerges; that, indeed, the negation itself is possible only through a more comprehensive spiritual revelation. To consider the negative and the positive in their relation to each other, and to weigh them one against the other, is the indispensable condition for the adequate understanding of human life.