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PHILOSOPHY
‘OF
THE UN G O N S CIO U S.
30
&
7
PHILOSOPHY
THE UN CON SCI0 U.S.
BY
EDUARD WON HARTMANN.
SPECULATIVE RESULTS ACCORDING TO THE INDUCTIVE
METHOD OF PHYSICAL SCIENCE:
3uthorized Crangiation
EY
WILLIAM CHATTERTON COUPLAND, M.A., B.Sc.
IN THREE VOLUMES.
WOL. II.
NEW YORE :
M A C M I L L A N A N D C O.
1884.
o
22 73
2. 23
C2%
yy?%
CONTENTS OF WOL. II.
(B) THE UNCONSCIOUS IN THE HUMAN MIND
(continued.)
PAGE
X. THE UNCONSCIOUS IN ELISTORY . tº º º I
XI. THE WALUE OF THE UNCONSCIOUS AND OF CONSCIOUS-
NESS FOR, HUMAN LIFE & º G * 28
(C) METAPHYSICS OF THE UNCONSCIOUS.
I. THE DIFFERENTIAE OF CONSCIOUS AND UNCONSCIOUS
MENTAL ACTIVITY AND THE UNITY OF WILL AND IDEA
IN THE UNCONSCIOUS s e te * - 47
II. BRAIN AND GANGLIA. AS CONDITIONS OF ANIMAL CON-
SCIOUSINESS • º e g e º 62
III. THE ORIGIN OF CONSCIOUSINESS º e e 78
(1.) THE BECOMING-CONSCIOUS OF THE IDEA . . 78
(2.) THE BECOMING-CONSCIOUS OF PAIN AND PLEA-
STURE . te & e º e 93
, (3) THE UNCONSCIOUSNESS OF THE WILL . . 96
(4.) CONSCIOUSNESS HAS NO DEGREES e • IO4.
(5.) THE UNITY OF CONSCIOUSNESS . e • II3
CONTENTS.
IV
VI
VII.
VIII,
IX
XI.
XII.
TEIE UNCONSCIOUS AND CONSCIOUSINESS *s THE WEGE-
TABLE RINGDOM g g e º tº
(I.) THE UNCONSCIOUs PSYCHICAL ACTIVITY OF
PLANTS ſº e ſº * ſº
(2) conscIOUSNESS IN THE PLANT . e &
MATTER AS WILL AND IDEA 2. * tº tº
TELE CONCEPTION OF INDIVIDUALITY . e
TEIE ALL-ONENESS OF TEIE UNCONSCIOUS º
TEIE UNCONSCIOUS AND THE GOD OF THEISM . ©
TEIE ESSENTIAL INOTION OF GENERATION FROM THE
STAND POINT OF THE UNIVERSALITY AND UNITY OF
TEIE UNCONSCIOUS tº º * © tº
. THE ASCENDING Evolution OF ORGANIC LIFE ON THE
EARTEI e º ſº º tº e e
INDIVIDUATION . & te g t &
(1.) POSSIBILITY AND MANNER OF EFFECTING INDI-
VIDUATION . g ſº ſº tº
(2.) INDIVIDUAL CHARACTER . sº tº e
TEIE SUPREME WISDOM OF TEIE UNCONSCIOUS AND THE
PERFECTION OF TELE WORLD . º ſº ſº
222
245
276
298
332
344.
356
PHILOSOPHY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS.
X.
THE UNCONSCIOUS IN HISTORY.
NATURE and History, or the origin of organisms and the
development of the human race, are two parallel problems.
In both cases the question runs: particular contingency
or universal necessity, dead causality or living conformity
to an end, mere sport of atoms and individuals or a single
plan and general superintendence 2 He who has decided
the question with respect to Nature in favour of design
will have no difficulty in doing the same in regard to
history. The only thing likely to mislead in the latter
case is the semblance of personal freedom. But I think I
may confidently appeal to the general consensus of modern
philosophers in respect to this matter of the freedom of the
will, to the effect namely that an empirical freedom in
any single act of volition in the sense of unconditionality
is altogether out of the question, since, like every other
natural phenomenon, it falls under the law of causality,
and necessarily follows from the state of the man's mind
at any given moment, and the motives which are acting
upon him. Further, that if a claim be set up for a freedom
of the will outside natural causality, this must at best be
Sought (I do not say, found) in the SuperSensible sphere
(mundus nowmenon), in Kant's intelligible character, but
can in no case apply to the Specific volitional act, since any
WOL. II. A.
2 PHILOSOPHY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS.
such act is always in time, consequently belongs to the
sphere of the phenomenal world, and is accordingly sub-
ject to the law of causality, i.e., necessity. This, and the
reasons why we are liable to the illusion of a belief in the
will’s freedom, may be studied in Schopenhauer's essay
“On the Freedom of the Will.”
But suppose we even admitted the empirical freedom
of the will, if we recognise a purposive evolution in history
at all, this could only be the result of the freedom of indi-
viduals if the consciousness of the step next to be taken, in
its full significance and in all its consequences, were pos-
sessed by every one freely co-operating in the historic
movement, before he actively intervened.
Undoubtedly since the close of the last century we
have been making approaches to that ideal state where the
human race consciously accomplishes its destiny, but, Save
for a few superior minds, this is still a remote condition
of things, and nobody will maintain that by far the larger
part of the way already traversed has been conquered in
this wise. For the aims of the individual are always sel-
fish, each one seeks only to further his own well-being,
and if this conduces to the welfare of the whole, the merit
is certainly not his; the exceptions to this rule are so few
that they are of no account in respect of the whole. But
the wonderful part of the matter is, that even the mind,
which wills the bad, works the good, that the results be-
come, by combination of many different Selfish purposes,
quite other than what each individual had imagined, and
that in the last resort they always conduce to the welfare
of the whole, although often the advantage is somewhat
remote, and centuries of retrogression seem to contradict
it; this contradiction, however, is only apparent, for they
serve the purpose of breaking the strength of an old
system, that room may be made for a new and better one,
or of allowing a vegetation to grow corrupt, in order that
it may manure the ground for something fresh and fairer.
Even thousands of years of stagnation on one spot of earth
THE UNCONSCIOUS IN THE HUMAN MIND. 3
should not mislead us, if only this phase of culture has
fulfilled its appointed office, and if only at the same
time the process of evolution goes forward at another
place.
Just as little should we expect, as is often and un-
reasonably the case, that at one and the same place all the
various branches or tendencies should enjoy an unchecked
progress, and complain of stagnation and retrogression, if
any particular branch, for which perhaps one has a per-
sonal preference, falls into decay. The evolution proceeds
on the large Scale, although only one or a few factors are
in active progress and other fields lie fallow ; for at the
proper time these others will again be taken in hand, and
in such a way that the elevation already attained is em-
braced in the new phase of the evolution (think of Raphael
and Phidias, Göthe and Euripides). What is apt to blind
the observer to the general development of humanity is
really a too narrow limitation of the view, which keeps
the eye fixed on certain painful and apparently incurable
political or social diseases, or on the momentary ruin of
one's favourite intellectual hopes, instead of opening it
wide to embrace vast historical Scenes, which would make
plain not only the great civilising events of the present
time, but also reveal the multiplicity of the ways of his-
tory, and the possibility and probability of an improvement
of these painful conditions by a path not dreamt of, and
perhaps even contemned. But in yet another sense a too
narrow restriction of the historic horizon may blind to the
great truth of evolution, namely, if of the long period of
humanity's unfolding all too small a portion, say the last
thousand years (called in the narrower sense, “historic")
be selected, and the brilliant age of Pericles or of Augustus
be compared with the present era. The naïveté accuracy
and delicacy of feeling of the aesthetic culture of those
times may deceive us for a moment with respect to the
superiority of our own, but the delusion disappears as
soon as we reflect that the age of Pericles possessed these
4. PHILOSOPHY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS.
excellences only instinctively and unconsciously, as is
shown by the fact that even so deep and circumspect a
thinker as Plato, with such models before him, could con-
º struct so poor a theory of aesthetics and an ideal consti-
tution so remote from actual needs. Not the shallow
common sense of the Romans, but the Germans of the last
century, converted into the conscious and now inalienable
possession of humanity what the Greeks only wrought out
by instinct; and which we can no longer execute, because
in all departments of art we have advanced in feeling
from the plastic to the pictorial. The naive delicacy of
taste, for which antiquity was distinguished in all direc-
tions, is naturally also far more easily destroyed by rude
external influences or inner decay than the more sub-
stantial mental culture of the present day, with its rich
material knowledge and self-conscious capacity, which is
protected from sinking into oblivion by a thousand ex-
pedients. Other differences consist in this, that in anti-
quity the cultivated portion of the world was very small
compared with that of the present day, when culture has
spread more or less among all vigorous races and peoples,
and new parts of the world have been taken possession of
by the civilised peoples of Europe. At the same time,
however, within the civilised races also education is ever
extending to larger circles and strata of the population,
so that for a twofold reason the cultured and mentally
advanced society of the present day forms a very much
larger quota of the total population of the earth than
heretofore, and is growing with the greatest rapidity pre-
cisely at the present moment. But now as we have to do
not with the development of men, but of humanity, this
increase in breadth is not less important than the growth
in depth—apart from the circumstance that the imperish-
ability of what has once been won is guaranteed by a
probability advancing in geometrical progression.
It is true that the free possession of the fruits of civili-
sation is still hampered and embittered by the struggle
l
THE UNCONSCIOUS IN THE HUMAN MIND. 5
with the threatening shades of the Middle Ages reach-
ing into our own time ; but we must not allow ourselves
to be blinded by the struggle against these no longer
|
\
justifiable existences to the historical value of the same in )
the past, and their abiding significance for the evolution
of humanity. The utterly barbarous tribes of the Ger-
manic migrations required during their infancy a strict
schooling, in which the physiological processes of transmu-
tation and fusion simultaneously went on, as whose result
we have the nationalities of Europe of the present day.
If antiquity especially developed the beautiful in sense
and fancy, if the culture of the understanding to-day
gives us the right to declare the forms of mediaeval life
to be relatively barbarous, it was the task of German-
ism to complete the deepening of the heart, though natur-
ally in a one-sided fashion, and this it could accomplish
effectively by the aid of no other civilising impulse than
the transcendent ideals of Christianity. It would be
unjust to refuse to recognise that the working-out and
development of the profoundest forces of the German
mind, which will ever remain a possession to humanity
after separation from that native soil, is essentially, if not
exclusively, due to the imaginative inner life of the
Middle Ages. Whoever has got the better of the elements
hostile to civilisation inherent in the popular Christianity
is for ever secured from relapsing into the elements of
past periods of the development of humanity, which are
hostile to civilisation, whereas the most highly cultured
Greek or Roman had still before him the Christian phase
of evolution.
Such an injustice to the Middle Ages Buckle and his
school are guilty of when they set up the conscious under-
standing, which undoubtedly is higher than sense, fancy,
and heart, and ought to govern these, as sole measure of
advance in culture, which it by no means is, since the
harmonious elaboration of all the mental forces appertains
thereto; and since the understanding alone, without the
!
6 PHILOSOPHY OF THE UN CONSCIO US.
%
foundation of powerfully developed sensibility, fancy, and
heart, would only produce wasted shadows, but not men
capable of any earnest task. The source of this error is
this, that the English, even down to the present day, are
essentially at that rationalistic standpoint which we occu-
pied in the last century; and that these historians of civili-
sation, instead of trying to discover the unconsciously
impelling ideas of history, fancy they can explain them
as a product of conscious reflection. Unconscious reason,
namely, unfolds itself, as we have just seen, just as much
in sensibility, fancy, and heart, as in the reflection of the
conscious understanding; and it again is evidence of an
all too-narrow glance, when the regulative element of
modern life is looked upon as that which is most im-
portant for all time, and as a standard of culture valid for
all time. In opposition to such a straitening of the
history of civilisation into a “History of Rationalism”
Hegel's attempts at a Philosophy of History retain their
full value, since in them the discussion always and alone
turns upon the (unconscious) ideas underlying the
epoch.
The opposite view of Schopenhauer with repect to His-
tory rests on his conception of time as purely subjective
phenomenal form, according to which all that happens is
an exclusively subjective appearance, wherefore history is
a subjective tissue of representations devoid of truth. He
blinds himself to the manifest contradiction of this view,
to the mighty organism of the historic evolution of hu-
manity, on the one hand, by reflecting only on the indif-
ferent and accidental framework of facts (succession of
kings, battles, &c.), instead of on the content of historical
culture, which is entirely neglected by him ; and, on the
other hand, by confounding the demand for a heightening
of individual comfort with the demand for a civilised pro-
gression of humanity as a whole. Happiness certainly
does not keep pace with human progress, but this does
not militate against the truth, that this progress, both in
THE UNCONSCIOUS IN THE HUMAN MIND. 7
the inner mental world and in the forms of social life, really
exists, and leads to ever higher development.
If anything is calculated to prove the great progress in
spiritual matters from the Greeks to the present day, it is
the progress of philosophy and especially that of the German
and English philosophy of the last two hundred years.
Philosophy as the final summariser of the ideas which
support a period of civilisation, and as the flower of the
historic self-consciousness of the Unconscious Idea, may
be taken as the most faithful representative of the spiritual
horizon of a section of time in the narrowest and most
compact frame; the progress of the development of ideas,
which we perceive in the history of philosophy, shows
us as through a diminishing glass the quintessence of the
spiritual possessions of the corresponding ages in their
various phases of development. That in the different
philosophies there is really a development was first shown
by Hegel, who constructed from the earlier detached in-
tellectual torsos an organically connected and harmonious
monumental group. Undoubtedly the individual colla-
borateurs had either no idea at all of this concatenation,
or possessed indeed only a highly defective knowledge of
a limited number of their predecessors, and just as their
profoundest principles instinctively welled up from the
depths of the Unconscious, so instinctively did they them-
selves divine the truth in regard to the place, which they
had to occupy in the evolution, so that the modern his–
toriography of Philosophy must be characterised as the
bringing to consciousness of the unconscious relations ob-
taining between different philosophics, in consequence of
which they unconsciously form a great development
series. But now, when we consider that at the same time
each of these philosophies is only the most conscious
expression of the period of civilisation which has just
attained its acme, thus only the last budding branch, which
has sprung from the common hidden root, whence all the
achievements of this portion of time in the most diverse
,’
8 PHILOSOPHY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS.
|
directions have harmoniously sprung–then it is evident,
that the epochs of civilisation taken as a whole must
be as much related as phases of an ascending development
series, as those common roots of the characteristic perform-
ances of each one of them (i.e. their unconsciously impel-
ling ideas), or as their most conscious forms of expression
(the standard philosophies). What should be regarded as
the unconscious impelling Idea in any particular period, can
only be determined by the Unconscious itself in reference
to the phase of development which is ideally indispensable
at that precise time. For the human individuals them-
selves, who perform the tasks answering to this phase,
before they even in a small measure attain to the con-
sciousness of the unconscious Idea, by which they are
impelled, cannot possibly be the cause of this, phase of
the Idea, since humanity only attains a consciousness of
the introduction of the same into the collective organism,
and of the necessity of just these phases of development
in this period of time long after the close of the period in
question.
Now the means whereby a particular phase of the IDEA
is actualised in a certain period are of two kinds, namely,
on the one side the implanting an instinctive impulse in
the masses, and on the other hand, the production of men
of genius as finger-posts and pioneers. This mysterious
impulse which works in the masses from time to time
in the form of tribal migrations, emigrations of multitudes,
crusades, religious, political and Social national revolutions,
and guides the same with truly demonic power to a goal
of which they are unconscious, is still ever “right con-
scious of its way,” if it also for the most part believes, that
this way leads to quite another goal than is actually the
fact. For in the cases, where the masses do not altogether
rush headlong forward, blind with rage, and without con-
scious aim, but have an end in view, this conscious aim is
commonly a worthless or perverse one, whereas the true
purpose of history in these revolutions is only subse-
THE UNCONSCIOUS IN THE HUMAN MIND. 9
quently unveiled.—In like manner, even without exactly
inflaming the masses, history attains, by the initiative of
eminent individuals, results which were quite beside the
conscious purposes of such men. (Think in particular of the
fertile marriage of different national civilisations, how with
the national exclusiveness of earlier times they could have
been produced only by means of vast expeditions for the
sake of conquest, as, e.g., those of Alexander, of Caesar, the
Roman expeditions of the German Emperors, nay, even
the European revolutions evoked by Napoleon. Only
an unhistoric sense can make light of the fields strewed
with the corpses of these heroes duped by the Uncon-
scious, whence have sprung harvests so fruitful and rich
in blessing.) Other ends are attained by the Unconscious
in a more peaceful way, when it calls forth the right genius
at the right time, who is enabled just to solve that problem,
whose solution his age urgently needs.” No more calamitous 2
gift for the individual than genius, for the men of genius
are, even with apparent outward good fortune, yet always >
those men who most deeply and irremediably feel the
wretchedness of existence. But men of genius are not here
for their own sake, but for humanity; and for humanity)
it is quite indifferent, whether in fulfilling their task they
feel miserable, or even perish in distress. The right man \
has never been wanting at the right time; and the cry
sometimes heard, that men are lacking for certain urgent
tasks, only proves that the problems have been wrongly
proposed by human consciousness, that they do not at all (or
at least not now) lie in the plan of history, and that con-
sequently even the most gifted men would vainly expend
their mental energies on these problems (at least at this
time). (Such an absolutely insoluble problem, e.g., is the
* As the most natural and easiest this prominent human being (cf. Dr.
means to this end appears the bring- Carl Freiherr du Prel : “The Meta-
ing together of two persons suited to physic of Sexual Love in its relation
produce the required individuality to History,” in the “Aust. Journal
by a love kindled in them with the for Sc. and Art.,” 1872, No. 34).
unconscious purpose of begetting
IO PHILOSOPHY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS.
regeneration and strengthening of States doomed to decay
and dissolution. A temporarily insoluble problem, on the
other hand, is the revival of original production in some
special field of mental work, which, at the moment in the
hands of Epigoni, must lie fallow for a season, before
a new phase of development commences under the influ-
ence of a new and fertile idea.) This pre-established
harmony, so to say, between historic problems and indi-
viduals with a special faculty for solving them, reaches
So far, that even technical inventions (in a practically
available form) are effected always, but then also always,
only when the pre-conditions for their fruitful utilisa-
tion, as well as the need of such aids to culture, are
given.
Now the collective inner spiritual evolution of humanity
forms the proper content of the history of humanity;
whereas State, Church, and Society, notwithstanding their
Organic character and their organic development, still, in
respect of the inner spiritual evolution, have only the
value of a scaffolding which, produced by the unconscious
mental activity of individuals, now on its side again sup-
ports and furthers the elaboration of the conscious mind,
by not only protecting and Securing it, but also as an
accessory mechanism saving one great part of the spiritual
labour, and lightening another.
Like every bodily part the cerebrum also is strength-
ened by use and exercise, and made more capable of new
allied performances; but as in every bodily part, so in the
cerebrum the vigour and material perfection acquired by
the parents is transmissible to the child. This transmis-
sion is not directly demonstrable in each single case; but,
on the average, taking one generation with another, it is a
fact, and it is likewise a fact that there is a latent trans-
mission, which only reveals its fruits in the second or third
generation (e.g., when somebody inherits from his maternal
grandfather a luxuriant red beard and fine bass voice).
As each generation further elaborates its conscious intel-
THE UNCONSCIOUS IN THE HUMAN MIND. I I
lect, thus also further perfects its material organ, in the
course of generations these additions, imperceptibly small
in a single generation, amount to clearly visible quantities.
It is no mere figure of speech, that children are now born
more clever, and that, less childish than formerly, they
even in childhood show a tendency to become prematurely
knowing. As the offspring of trained animals are more
adapted for similar training than offspring captured when
wild, so also the children of a human generation are the
more clever in making acquisitions in the various depart-
ments of practice and theory, the greater the advance
already made. I doubt, e.g., whether a Greek boy could
ever have become an excellent productive musician in the
modern sense, because his brain was without those in-
herited predispositions for the wide field of musical har-
onomy, which modern humanity of western Europe has
only gained through an historic development of more than
fifteen generations. An Archimedes or Euclid, in spite of
their relative mathematical genius, would have evinced
no little awkwardness as pupils of an instruction in the
higher mathematics.
Thus all spiritual progress causes an enhancement of
the executive capacity of the material organ of the in-
tellect, and this becomes through inheritance (on the
average) the enduring possession of humanity—a position
Scaled facilitating further advance. That is, the progress
in the spiritual possession of humanity goes hand in hand \
with the anthropological development of the race, and
stands in reciprocal relation with it; all progress on the
one side stands the other side in good stead. There must,
accordingly, be also an anthropological ennoblement of the
race, which springs from other causes than that mental
progress, which furthers the intellectual evolution. Of
the latter kind, is, e.g., the improvement of the race by
sexual selection (B. Chap. ii.)—which ceaselessly exerts
its unnoticed but powerful effects—or the competition of
races and nations in the struggle for existence, which is
I 2 PHILOSOPHY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS.
waged among mankind under natural laws just as piti-
lessly as among animals and plants. No power on earth
is able to arrest the eradication of the inferior races of
mankind, which, as relics of earlier stages of development
once also passed through by ourselves, have gone on vege-
tating down to the present day. As little as a favour is
done the dog whose tail is to be cut off, when one cuts it
off gradually, inch by inch, so little is there humanity in
artificially prolonging the death-struggle of Savages who
are on the verge of extinction. The true philanthropist,
if he has comprehended the natural law of anthropological
evolution, cannot avoid desiring an acceleration of the last
convulsions, and labouring for that end. One of the best
means is the support of missions, which (according to a
truly divine irony of the Unconscious) has done more to
further this purpose of Nature than all the direct attempts
of the white race at the annihilation of Savages. The
quicker this eradication of the peoples living in a state of
nature incapable of competition with the white race is
proceeded with, and the quicker the whole earth is ex-
clusively occupied by races hitherto the highest, the more
quickly will the struggle of different stocks within the high-
est race burst forth into immense proportions, the sooner
will the spectacle of the absorption of the lower race by the
higher be repeated among Stocks and peoples. But the dif-
ference is, that these peoples are far more equal, thus far
more capable of competition, than the lower races (except
the Mongolian) have hitherto shown themselvesin presence
of the Caucasian race. Hence it follows that the struggle
for existence between nations, because waged with more
equal force, must be much more fearful, bitter, persistent,
and attended with greater sacrifices, than between races, as
we shall see later on (C. chap. x.), that the struggle for ex-
istence is in general the more bitter and the more merciless,
but at the same time also the more advantageous for the
progressive evolution of the race, the nearer are the
species or varieties that compete with one another.
THE UNCONSCIOUS IN THE HUMAN MIND. I 3
It is relatively indifferent whether this struggle for
existence between peoples and races assumes the form of
physical struggle with weapons, or whether it takes place
in other apparently more peaceful forms of competition.
It would be a great error to suppose that war is the cruel-
est or even only the most effective form of annihilating a
competitor; it is only the most obvious, because rudest
—but on that very account also the ultima ratio for a
people which sees itself overreached by its competitor in
the so-called peaceful clashing of interests. The sacrifices
of even the greatest war are insignificant compared with
the annihilation of millions and millions of human beings
who perish when, e.g., a people is drained by another of
higher industrial development by means of commerce, and
deprived of a part of its previous source of earning a live-
lihood (comp. Carey's “Principles of Political Economy,”
on the effects of the English blood-sucking system in z`
India, Portugal and elsewhere). While by means of this
struggle for existence the earth becomes more and more
the exclusive possession of the most highly-developed
peoples, not only does the entire population of the earth
become more civilised, but also by means of the differen-
tiations conditioned by forms of soil and climate within
the people that has attained the hegemony new germs
of development are always being scattered, which indeed,
again, can only be unfolded by means of the cruel struggle
for existence.
Awful as is the prospect of this perpetual struggle from
the endaemonist point of view, equally magnificent does
it appear from the teleological in respect to the goal of an
extreme intellectual development. One must only ac-
custom oneself to the thought that the Unconscious can
be led astray neither more nor less by the lamentation of
milliards of human individuals than by that of as many
animal individuals, if only these torments further develop-
ment, and thereby its own main design.
I said above, that the fact of an evolution of humanity
I4 PHILOSOPHY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS.
may certainly be doubted if one contemplate too limited
Sections of history; we may now say, that one can
only in that case doubt evolution, but not if the total
duration of humanity, from its first appearance on earth
till the future perspective just hinted at, be surveyed with
a single glance. The time has gone by when a Creuzer
and a Schelling supposed a primitive people endowed with
all wisdom, from whose decay the race of mankind had
developed. To-day, comparative philology and compara-
tive mythology, ethnology, anthropology, and archaeology,
unite in their teaching that the state of culture of our
forefathers was the ruder and more primitive the more
remote the era to which we descend. When three to four
thousand years ago the Aryans began in Small detach-
ments that national migration, whose present result is the
rule of the Indo-Germanic stocks from the Indian Ocean
to the Pacific, they already possessed a considerable civili-
sation, which can only have been the result of the ante-
cedent ten thousands of years. Already provided with a
language furnished with inflexions, with fruitful and pro-
found philosophical nature-myths, with technical instru-
ments for agriculture, the shaping of dwellings and clothes,
they make their first appearance in history. Much as we
have gained in culture since then, yet it holds good here
more than anywhere that all commencement is difficult, and
doubtless it was a far greater and therefore also more pro-
tracted task to work up to such an elevation from the
primitive condition of speechless human animals, than,
once in possession of such means of culture, especially
such an incomparable language, to subjugate Nature ever
more and more, and to outstrip the backward races in ever-
increasing progression.
If language, mythology, and technology form the spirit-
ual content of that pre-historic period of civilisation, the
family expanded to the tribe is the form in which this
content is embraced. Whilst the sexual instinct brought
together man and woman to found a family, it was on the
THE UNCONSCIOUS IN THE HUMAN MIND. 15
one hand the instinctive social instinct (Grotius) which
hindered the atomistic Sundering of blood-relations of the
first and second degree ; and, on the other hand, the
struggle for existence, the war of all against all (Hobbes),
the hostility of foreign neighbours to one another, which
necessarily brought about an increase of the power of
attack and defence by the closest solidarity of the family
and the clan. Thus the head of the family grew into the
elder of the clan or patriarch, and—with increasing expan-
sion of the clan into the tribe—into the chief of the tribe,
or patriarchial king. In this condition do we find the
Aryans, when they conquered Hindostan; the Greeks,
at the time of the Trojan war; the Germans, in their
tribal migrations. It is true that animals also found
families, also wage war with one another; but they imme-
diately relapse into the inorganic mass of the herd, as soon
as more than the family in the narrow sense remain to-
gether, whereas the clan is organically parted into families,
and therefore really exhibits the higher unity of the latter.
Wherefore the union of the three instincts (sexual im-
pulse, social impulse, and instinct of enmity of all to all)
is, in fact, in man something new and higher than in the
animal, and makes him the Øov Toxttukov of Aristotle. -
The higher unconscious content of those instincts in
the case of man is shown in this, that its proximate pro-
ducts, the family, the clan, and the tribe, must be regarded
as the germinal vesicle and embryo of all later political,
ecclesiastical, and social forms. The head of the family is
first king (leader in battle, exclusive representative of the
family to the outer world, and judge, with power of life
and death); secondly, priest (in the then exclusive family
worship); and thirdly, teacher and taskmaster of his own
people. These three departments are here still united in
inseparable unity; or, more correctly, they have not yet
at all worked themselves out of their state of indifference.
This emergence does not take place Suddenly but gradu-
ally; each of the three spheres has the tendency to de-
I6 PHILOSOPHY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS.
velop into a formal organism, which dominates according
to possibilities the other life-spheres. That one of the
three spheres now, on whose elaboration in an historical
period most popular energy is expended, in fact rules
during this period. But since the departments can only
be worked at one after another, it lies in the nature of the
case that the sides which first emerge must implicitly con-
tain in themselves those which are not yet unfolded, so
far as the latter do not still remain in the primitive bosom
of the family.
The development of the State is everywhere the first
and most urgent requirement; but the ecclesiastical and
social functions, so far as they have emerged from the
family circle, must be supplied at the same time (thus, e.g.,
in the Graeco-Roman constitution, where the kingly high-
priests, and also in the republican phase the ecclesi-
astical institutions were integral parts of the State). In
Hindostan, a few centuries after the conquest by the
Aryans, there took place that powerful revolution, whereby
the military nobility was almost exterminated, and the
rule of the priesthood was permanently established down
to the present day. In the West this revolution (which
in India stified all germs of progress) happily took place
after a complete cycle of the political development of
antiquity; a circumstance which, after the expiration of
the mediaeval-ecclesiastical phase of development, made
possible the re-birth of German life, even in political and
mental respects, by means of the renascence of antiquity.
As the Church only appeared as the Second element, it
could not absorb the already existing State in the same
way as in antiquity the State the yet-undeveloped
Church; but it could push it back into the second rank,
and itself occupy the first place. Whilst in the last
century secular life again gained the upper hand over the
spiritual, it was only in appearance the State as such that
gained the victory over the Church. In truth it is the
social interests which have repressed the ecclesiastical, and
THE UNCONSCIOUS IN THE HUMAN MIND. I 7
only because society as such is still occupied in fashioning
an organ of its own has it been provisionally the State
that has outstripped the Church in the perception and
advocacy of certain social and especially economic interests,
and so in general has obtained precedence of her; whilst,
on the other hand, the hitherto-existing Church likewise
derives its best power of persistence from certain social
functions which she still vicariously champions. This
phase is, therefore, particularly interesting, because it offers
something really new under the sun.
The commencement of the evolution of Society as such
into an independent organism beside Church and State is
something so new, that there are only a few who notice it
at all. Most people think, because the organism of the
State must at present vicariously perform social functions
(e.g., instruction of youth, care of the poor, guaranteeing
of interest for industrial undertakings), that these things
are really State-functions, and then perhaps commit the
error, like Lassalle, of expecting from it the establish-
ment of associations for purposes of production, instead
of rather co-operating in the organisation of Society, and
transferring to the latter social functions hitherto performed
by the State. But where exceptionally the ideal separa-
tion of State and Society, and the necessity of gradually
procuring a real separation is recognised, there perhaps we
hear talk of a necessary and irreconcilable strife between
them, instead of the harmony of political and social in-
terests (Gneist). Negatively expressed, Society embraces
the wide sphere of life-relations and forms of intercourse,
that are not given in the conceptions State and Church ;
positively expressed, it is the organisation of labour in the
widest sense. The organisation of labour especially signi-
fies the ordering and regulating of the division of labour
between the sexes and individuals; but, in addition also,
the preparation of youth for their life-work, and the care
of those who have become incapable of work. The notion
of the division of labour of course includes the highest as
WOL. II. T}
I 8 PHILOSOPHY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS.
the lowest, unqualified manual labour as well as the
mental labour of the investigator and artist, and not less
the labour of education and of social self-government. It
is evident that “Society,” in this sense, in fact embraces
all forms of civilised life except State and Church; a
meaning in which it has hitherto been understood only
by Lorenz Stein. The tendency of this working-out of a
social organism (Socialism) is to limit the freedom of com-
petition, which has been the means of emancipating labour
from its former shackles, in favour of a systematic division
of labour, and to prevent the gain of one (as in free com-
petition) being only too often purchased at the dispropor-
tionate loss of another. But, as said, this phase is still so
much in its very commencement, that the How of such
organisations as will infallibly arise in the future is thus
far quite indeterminable. º
We will now bestow one more hasty glance on the
development of the forms of the State, the Church, and
(if only as yet implicit) Society.
I shall first try to describe with a few strokes the
outline of the development of the Idea of the State, as it
appears to me. History exhibits three main contrasts in
the life of the State, large state and small state, republic
and monarchy, indirect and direct government. The pro-
blem is, to unite large state and republic as the prefer-
able forms, the means to that end indirect government.
The patriarchal chieftainships and royalties show us the
union of small state and monarchy, the Asiatic despotisms
that of the large state and monarchy. Here only one
man has civil liberty, all others are bond-slaves or thralls
of the luler. The Greek town and district republics are
the first specimens of the Republic. Favoured by the
natural divisions of their Small country, the Greeks
could, even in their petty states, exhibit the republican
form of government as an aristocracy of free citizens,
ruling over twice as many slaves. The Roman Empire
combines the Greek town-republic with the Asiatic des-
THE UNCONSCIOUS IN THE HUMAN MIND. I9
potism of the Great State; in place of the despot appears
the Roman citizenship, and all subjugated lands contain
only slaves. When therefore the republican power of the
Roman citizens waned, it likewise relapsed into the Mon-
archy of the Great State.—Germany brings a new prin-
ciple into the idea of the State by its system of feudalism,
that of indirect government or the pyramidal graduated
system of rule, whereas antiquity only knew direct govern-
ment. The ancients had only free-men and slaves, but
now appears a gradation of freedom from the king down
to the thrall, in that each man is lord of his own vassals.
I might therefore call the State of the Middle Ages the
monarchical pyramid.—Lastly, the modern world utters
the decisive word with its postulate of universal human
freedom ; it aims at large states having their natural limits
in nationalities, it revives the Greek town-republic in the
self-government of the towns and communes, and finds
in the principle of representation by chosen deputies a
means of rearing a republican pyramid, of which up to this
time the best, but by no means perfect, example exists in
North America, but which must and will at some time or
other, with the universal spread of civilisation, embrace all
the countries of the earth, since the sovereignty of the
national states is just as much a moment to be sublated
as that of the territorial states.—The constitutional hybrid
of monarchy and republic is nothing but a prodigious
palpable lie, and has an historical authorisation only as
a transitional form and the political School of nations.
In the Federal Republic, which certainly will come to
pass when the individual states have become republics,
the state of nature in which communities at first exist
will pass into the state of right, and self-protection by
war into legal protection by the federal republic, as the
natural condition and self-protection of the individual
passes into the legal condition and legal protection on
the formation of the State. (Here is opened the possibi-
lity of a termination of the struggle for existence alluded
2O PHILOSOPHY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS.
to on page 25, namely when tolerably uniform climates
are occupied by the same people organised in the universal
State, and competition between the peoples inhabiting
different climates is excluded by the limits of their capa-
city of climatic accommodation, which assigns them dif-
ferent geographical areas of diffusion.) -
The second of the forms to be noticed, the Church, has a
more limited and more one-sided function than State and
Society; for whilst the latter simultaneously subserve
many interests, and satisfy many needs, the Church sub-
serves exclusively the need of the religious sentiment,
and indeed not of any religious sentiment, but only of
that, which either requires for its full satisfaction a
common cultus, or feels itself far too weak to rely on the
consciousness and feeling of the individual self, and now
seeks, by means of the external institution of the visible
Church, a palpable external support in lieu of the in-
ternal. As a natural consequence, with the growth of the
solidity of the inner spiritual substance of mankind the
visible Church must lose in importance. Nevertheless
at the present standpoint of civilised nations the Church
is still a factor of the highest importance, and will still
long remain so, even when it takes the third place (after
Society and State).
As already mentioned, the State is the first of the three
forms to unfold itself, and the Church is bound up with
it. Even there, where exceptionally (as in Judaism) the
State is from the commencement an ecclesiastical State or
theocracy, it does not advance beyond the national limi-
tation of theocracy. The idea of a cosmopolitan Church
or theocracy can always be only the result of a religious
revolution. Thus in India, Buddhism ; on the shores of the
Mediterranean, Christianity, broke up the earlier national
narrowness of ecclesiastical institutions, and thereby inau-
gurated an oriental and an occidental Middle Age. This
cosmopolitism of the Mediaeval Church is of the greatest
significance, and most important in results both politically
THE UNCONSCIOUS IN THE HUMAN MIND. 21
and socially, for it gives for the first time a solidarity of con-
sciousness to the members of different peoples and States,
thereby extends both extensively and intensively the
peaceful intercourse of different peoples with one another,
and prepares the cosmopolitan consciousness of modern
times, which is based on the social principle of Humanity,
and surmounts the barriers of ecclesiastical antitheses, just
as the cosmopolitism of the Mediaeval Church had burst
the barriers of the constitutional antagonisms which it
embraced. Thus the Church naturally leads us to the
third form, Society.
Social development exhibits four leading phases, of
which the first three are to be looked upon as stages pre-
paratory to the fourth, in which for the first time Society
is unfolded as an independent, co-ordinate form.
The first phase is the free state of nature, where every
one only works for himself and his family, as, e.g., among
the Indian hunting-tribes. From this condition an ascent
to greater comfort, and thereby to greater civilisation, is
impossible, because in the atomistic freedom of individuals
there is no motive to bring about the division of labour,
through which alone that economy of labour is possible,
which is indispensable for a production in excess of the
momentary needs of life, i.e., of an elevation of national
well-being through the accumulation of capital.
The second phase is that of personal rule, where the
lord is the proprietor of the persons or the working-powers
of his slaves or thralls. Here the lord soon finds it to
his interest to introduce a division of labour among his
slaves, whose work now produces an excess beyond their
and his requirements, which is applied to establish a stock-
in-trade (capital). Thus national wealth grows through
accumulation of capital, to the advantage, however, cer–
tainly only of the master, not of the serf. The Roman
Empire and the Middle Ages afford an example of this
stage.
The third phase, which is only rendered possible by the
22 PHILOSOPHY OF THE UNCONSCIO US.
prolonged agency of the second, is that of the rule of capital.
In this period the fixed capital, hitherto alone of import-
ance, is surpassed by free capital, and driven more and
more to become mobile if it is not to lose disproportion-
ately in value. This process goes on simultaneously and
in reciprocation with the greatest mitigation and abolition
of bond-service, whereby the power of labour becomes a
free commodity, and falls under the general laws of price
(which is determined by supply and demand). As capital
can Organise the division of labour on a far grander scale,
a far larger quota of the total labour will also now become
superfluous for present needs and available for the future,
i.e., for productive investment; thus also the increase of
capital and the growth of national comfort must proceed far
more rapidly than in the foregoing phase. But here too
this increase of national wealth is essentially to the advan-
tage of the possessors of capital alone, since that part of it
which falls to the working classes is immediately followed
by a numerical increase of the labouring classes, which in
the redistribution always keeps the share falling to each
individual at the level of the usual indispensable minimum
for maintaining life. Experience at least confirms this for
the industrial forces of labour accessible to the market of
the world.—But free capital also is an Idea, which unfolds
and attains maturity, only to perish after its task has been
fulfilled, and to make place for other structures. Its
historical task also is transitional, and only consists in
preparing the ground for the next stage, just as the func-
tion of slavery consisted in preparing and making possible
the rule of capital.
The fourth and last phase is that of free association. If,
namely, the value of slavery and rule of capital was
only to be measured by the degree in which they made
possible, and introduced a division of labour, and thereby
economy of labour, these always still highly imperfect coer-
cive measures of history, which bring in their train accom-
panying unutterable misery, must become superfluous as
THE UNCONSCIOUS IN THE HUMAN MIND. 23
soon as the character and understanding of the workman
are developed to the degree of civilisation, in order by free
conscious agreement to undertake an appropriate part of
the work in the universal division of labour. As before
the difficulty was, to educate the freed slave to voluntary
labour, so now the difficulty is to educate the labourer, in
order that when set free from the yoke of this rule of
capital, he may adequately fill in the association the place
assigned him. To conduct this education (by means of
Schultze-Delitzsch Unions, better school-teaching, la-
bourers’ educational unions, &c.), is the most important
social problem of the present day. Free association the
future will of itself bring forth, if one cannot yet exactly
say, with what means and ways, whether by some kind of
peaceful development, or by catastrophes which will exceed
in awfulness all that has hitherto happened in history.—In
this last phase the actual payment of money (except coins)
will be made just as superfluous by the general introduc-
tion of banking, as in the foregoing stage barter was super-
seded by the use of money.
If the rule of capital has already done much more for
the division of labour than slavery, free association will
far exceed the former in an incomparably higher degree
(think of an indivisible organisation of production and
sale on the whole earth analogous to the indivisible poli-
tical organisation of the whole earth). In correspondence
herewith the growth of material wealth will take place
much more rapidly than at present, supposing that it
be not neutralised or outstripped by the increase of the
number of the population, which to be sure has its limits
assigned it by the maximum of nutritive plants pro-
duced on the whole earth and of fishes yielded by the
waters; or, if one takes into account the inorganic con-
ditions of the means of subsistence, by the limited habit-
able space of the earth's surface.
The goal of this social evolution would be, that every
one, with a period of work which allowed him sufficient
24. PHILOSOPHY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS.
leisure for his intellectual culture, should lead a comfort-
able existence, or, as one is wont to say with a more
somorous expression, an existence conformable to the
dignity of man. Thus, as the final political state would
secure to man the eacternal and formal, the final social con-
dition would afford him the material possibility of ulti-
mately fulfilling his positive and proper task, for the
fulfilment of which the intermal conditions must neces-
sarily be sought in the before-noticed mental or intellectual
development.
If in this entire development we cannot miss a single
plan, a clearly-prescribed aim, towards which all stages
of development are tending; if, on the other hand, we
must allow that the several actions which prepared or
led up to these stages had by no means this conscious
goal, but that the human being almost always aimed at
something else, effected something else, we must also ac-
knowledge that something else than the conscious intention
of the individuals, or the accidental combination of the
several actions, is occultly operative in history, that “far-
reaching glance, which already discovers from afar, where
this lawlessly roaming freedom is conducted in the bond
of necessity, and the selfish aims of the individual uncon-
sciously tend to the perfection of the whole" (Schiller,
vol. vii. pp. 29, 30). Schelling expresses this in the System
of Transcendental Idealism (Works, i. 3, p. 594): “In free-
dom there shall be necessity, means then as much as:
Through freedom itself, and in that I think to act freely,
there shall unconsciously, i.e., without my assistance, come
to pass what I did not intend. Otherwise expressed: to
the conscious, that is, that freely determining activity
which we have before deduced, there shall be opposed
an unconscious one, whereby, in spite of the unlimited
expression of freedom, something arises quite involun-
tarily, and perhaps even against the will of the actor,
which he himself could have never realised by means of
his own volition. This proposition, however paradoxical
THE UNCONSCIOUS IN THE HUMAN MIND. 25
it may appear, is indeed nothing else but the transcen-
dental expression of the generally accepted and presup-
posed relation of freedom to a concealed necessity, which
is called now fate, now providence, without anything
being clearly thought by the one or the other; that rela-
tion, in virtue of which human beings, through their free
action itself, and indeed against their will, are compelled
to be causes of something which they never willed, or
conversely in virtue of which something must fail and go
wrong, which they have willed with freedom and with the
exertion of all their energies” (Ibid. p. 598). “But this
necessity itself can only be conceived by means of an
absolute synthesis of all actions, from which everything
that happens, thus also all history, is developed, and in
which, because it is absolute, everything is so weighed and
calculated beforehand, that all that may happen, however
contradictory and inharmonious it may appear, yet has
and finds in it its point of union. This absolute synthesis
itself, however, must be placed in the Absolute, which is
the intuitive and eternally and universally objective in all
free action.” Whoever has well understood this passage,
of which it may be said that it represents the view of all
philosophers since Kant, and the substance of which has
been reproduced in detail by Hegel in the introduction to
his “Lectures on the Philosophy of History,” for such an
one I have nothing to add.—To any one who prefers to
stop at the conceptions Fate or Providence, one can only
object that he can therewith frame no clear idea how my
act, whether it is the work of my freedom, or the product
of my character and the efficient motives, how this my
deed is to actualise another than my will, say of a God
enthroned in heaven. There is only one way in which this
demand is capable of fulfilment, if this God descends into
my bosom, and my will is to me in an unconscious way
at the same time God's will, i.e., if I unconsciously will
something quite different to what my consciousness ex-
clusively thinks to will ; if, further, consciousness errs in
26 PHILOSOPHY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS.
the choice of the means to its end, but the unconscious
will appropriately chooses this same means for its purpose.
Otherwise is this psychical process not at all thinkable,
and as much as this is said in the first half of the
passage from Schelling.—But now, if we cannot do with-
out an unconscious will in addition to the conscious will ;
if, on the other hand, we add the long known clairvoyance
of unconscious representation, why bring a transcendent
God in addition into the affair, when the individual is
sufficient of himself with the faculties familiar to us 2
What then is this fate or providence but the rule of the
Unconscious, the historic instinct in the actions of man-
kind, as long as just their conscious understanding is not
yet mature enough to make the aims of history their own 2
What is the impulse to form a State but an instinct of
the masses like the linguistic instinct, or the gregarious
impulse of insects, only mixed with more infusions of the
conscious understanding 2
If, in the animal, as we have seen, instinct always
appears just when a need is not to be satisfied in any
other way, what wonder if also in all branches of the
historical evolution the right man is always born at the
right time, whose inspired genius perceives and satisfies
the unconscious needs of his time ! Here the proverb
holds good: When the need is most, the help is nearest.
Why should we trouble a god who stands without and
pushes and guides from the outside in the case of the
historical instinct of man, when we have not found it
necessary in the case of all the other instincts 2 Only
them, if in the progress of the inquiry it should appear, that
the unconscious in the individual has nothing individual
in it except the reference of this its activity to this
definite individual, then will Schelling be right also in
the second part of the quoted passage, that the Absolute
is the percipient (clairvoyant) in all such action, and its
absolute synthesis (in weaving), or as Kant once expresses
it (Works, vii. 367), that “Instinct is the voice of God,”
THE UNCONSCIOUS IN THE HUMAN MIND. 27
but now of the God in one's own breast, the immanent
God.
If we have found the stopping short at the idea of a
fate or a providence to be inadmissible, it is not to be
understood, that these ways of looking at the matter, just
as that of the exclusive self-activity of individuals in
history, are in themselves illegitimate, but only, that they
are one-sided. The Greeks, Romans, and Mohammedans
are quite right in their idea of eiuappéum or fate, so far as
this signifies the absolute necessity of all that happens in
the thread of causality, so that every link of the series
is determined, predetermined by the foregoing, thus the
whole series by the commencing link.
Christianity is right in its idea of Providence, for all
that happens happens with absolute wisdom, with abso-
lute fitness, i.e., as means to the fore-seen end, by the
never-erring Unconscious, which is itself the absolutely
logical. At any moment only one thing can be logical,
and therefore always only one thing can, and this the
one logically demanded, must happen, just as fitly as
necessarily (comp. further on C. Chap. xv. 3). Lastly, the
modern rationalistic empirical conception is right, that
history is the exclusive result of the self-activity of the
individuals determining themselves according to psycholo-
gical laws without any miracle of an incursion of higher
powers. But the supporters of the first two views are
wrong, in denying the Spontaneity, those of the latter, in
denying fate and providence, for only the union of all three
points of view is the truth. But this very union was self-
contradictory, as long as one assumed merely conscious
self-activity of the individual. It is the cognition of the
Unconscious which at Once Inakes this possible and evi-
dent, by bringing into Scientific clearness the hitherto only
mystically postulated identity of the individual with the
Absolute, yet without effacing their difference, which is a
no less one than that of metaphysical essence and pheno-
menal existence (comp. C. Chap. vi.-viii. and xi.)
( 28 )
XI.
THE WALUE OF THE UNCONSCIOUS AND OF CONSCIOUSINESS
FOR HUMAN LIFE,
I HAVE hitherto made sufficiently conspicuous the value
of the Unconscious, so that it might appear that I was
desirous of exalting the Unconscious in comparison with
consciousness. To repel such a charge, to recall the value
of conscious thinking, and to compare the worth of the
conscious and unconscious and their respective offices, is
the object of the present chapter.
Let us first consider the worth of the Conscious, of
conscious reflection, therefore, and of the application of
acquired conscious knowledge for mankind. #
The fundamental question would be this: “Can reflec-
tion and knowledge determine action and character, and
in what manner 2 * The affirmative answer, with which
common sense would not be backward, might be placed in
doubt through the consideration, firstly; that the specific
will, from which action proceeds, springs from a reaction
of the character on motive, a process which remains for
ever closed to consciousness; and secondly, that volition
and ideation are incommensurable things, because they
belong to quite different spheres of mental activity. Their
heterogeneity and incommensurability are however limited
by this circumstance, that an idea forms the content of the
will, and an idea its motive or exciting cause, and the
eternal unconsciousness of the process engendering the
will would only make any knowledge of the connection
of motive and desire entirely impossible, if either character
were in itself quickly alterable, or there were no necessary
THE UNCONSCIOUS IN THE HUMAN MIND. 29
uniformity in the process of motivation, but a freedom of
the will in the sense of the Indeterminists. As neither
condition obtains, the possibility is open to every one, like
the physician with those drugs, whose physiological effect
is incomprehensible to him, to collect an empirical know-
ledge of what desire is called forth by what motive and in
what degree. So far as human characters resemble each
other in general, this cognition will be general empirical
psychology, but so far as characters are different, it will
be special knowledge of self and man (Science of Char-
acter). If we combine with this the knowledge of those
psychological laws according to which the excitability of
the different kinds of desires is temporarily changed, as,
e.g., the laws of Our moods, of passion, of habit, &c., and if
we secure ourselves in the manner shortly to be considered
from the illusions of the intellect, that are produced by
passions, then if all these conditions are ideally satisfied,
we shall be able to predict any moment the kind and
degree of the resulting desire in respect of any motive, and
the errors regarding the issue of the unconscious will-pro-
ducing process mentioned in Chapters III. and IV. will
disappear of themselves.
Now as every motive can only take the form of the
idea, and the revival of ideas is subject to the influence
of the conscious will, by voluntarily calling up an idea
known as motive of a certain desire, there follows from
what has been said the possibility of indirectly arousing
this desire. Further, as the will is nothing but the re-
sultant of all contemporaneous desires, and as the union
of all the components into the one resultant has the
simple form of an algebraic sum, because indeed all the
components in respect of a future action can have only
two directions, positive or negative, there follows further
the possibility of influencing the resultant by arousing one
or more new desires through a voluntary representation of
the appropriate motives, or by strengthening those already
present. The same means is also available for suppress-
3O PHILOSOPHY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS.. "
ing such desires as would certainly not so soon attain to
manifestation in action on external grounds, but which
act prejudicially through disturbance of the mind, confu-
sion of the intellect, production of useless feelings of
pain, &c. But conscious reflection can never influence a
present desire directly, but only mediately, by arousing
an opposite one.—That this stated mode of influencing
the will through the intellect is in fact the only possible
one, and that which always occurs in practice, will readily
be granted by everybody who makes this department of
psychology a little the subject of his reflection. This, as
well as the circumstance that the subject is somewhat
wide of our proper theme, deters me from further discuss-
ing it. I will merely further add, that only from this
point of view can a change of character through conscious
reflection be explained. We have, namely, seen the possi-
bility of determining the issue in every single case other-
wise than by merely leaving it to the action of the motives
spontaneously presenting themselves, and thereby the
possibility of successfully making head against the emo-
tions which are most easily excited in consequence of the
now formed character, and therefore most frequently
arise. If now this suppression regularly occurs on every
occasion for a longer time, according to the law of habit,
by the persistent inactivity and non-satisfaction of the
particular impulse, its liability to stimulation will be
enfeebled; while, on the other hand, the frequently and
strongly excited tendencies will be strengthened, i.e., the
character will be changed. In the same manner the pos-
sibility of a change of character by means of conscious
reflection, certainly only with the help of long habit, be-
comes intelligible (comp. Phil. Monatshefte, vol. iv. Hft. 5,
on Bahnsen's Ethology).
The above fundamental question is here with answered
in the affirmative in both its parts, and we can now take
a brief survey of what conscious reflection and knowledge
have to offer to man as regards practice.
THE UNCONSCIOUS IN THE HUMAN MIND. 31
I. Prevention of illusions of knowledge due to influence of
emotions.—We have already seen how the emergence of
ideas is essentially dependent on a momentary interest.
Hence it happens that, with a predominant one-sided
interest, e.g., emotions, probable reasons for the case in
accordance with the interest always preferentially enter
into consciousness, and fewer contrary reasons; that seem-
ing reasons pro are too readily assumed to be perceived to
be faulty; but that seeming reasons contra, if they at all
crop up, are immediately unmasked, and even good reasons
contra depreciated or refuted by seeming reasons, and thus
error arises. No wonder, therefore, that terror, anger,
sensuous desire can so deprive us of Our wits that we no
longer know what we say or do, that hate causes us to see
only faults in our enemies; love, merely excellences in our
loved ones; that fear paints in gloomy, hope in rosy hues;
that the former allows us often no longer to perceive
obvious resources, the latter makes the most improbable
probable, if it only corresponds to our wishes, that we
mostly err to our own advantage, rarely to our disadvan-
tage, and only too frequently hold that to be fit and just
which is to our own advantage.
Interest even insinuates itself into pure Science, for a
favourite hypothesis sharpens the glance for everything
confirmative, and causes us to overlook the plainest coun-
ter-evidence, or to let go out at One ear what comes in at
the other.
There are two remedies for this : the first is, that one
form once for all an empirical coefficient of reduction de-
pendent on the degree of the passion or interest, and mul-
tiply this in any single case by the acquired coefficient of
probability of the judgment; the second, that one allows
no passion to attain the degree where it begins to per-
ceptibly affect the judgment. The latter means will alone
stand the test, but is not a general favourite, because
inconvenient, and only attainable by long practice in Self-
command; the former entirely fails in the case of strong
32 PHILOSOPHY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS.
emotions and passions, when all the mental powers are
concentrated on a single point; moreover the magnitude
of the coefficient of reduction is often difficult to fix, the
actual estimate of the degree of personal passion still more
difficult.—The value of intellectual clearness (orogpoo ſum)
is pretty obvious in a verbal dispute, where the one allows
himself to be carried away by passion, and not the other.
Among women almost every real dispute passes into a
personal one, whether clothed in the most delicate irony
or in the choicest Billingsgate. Still more conspicuous is
the value of Sobriety and restraint of emotions in cases
of peril.
2. Prevention of thoughtlessness and irresolution.—The
largest part of all the remorse in the world arises from in-
considerate action, in which the possible consequences of
the deed in all its bearings were not considered, the result
being painful surprise on their appearance. If the
evil consequences fall back upon the doer himself, incon-
siderateness becomes levity. All this remorse would
accordingly be spared by more deliberation in action.
Irresolution on the other hand proceeds partly from want
of courage, partly from want of confidence in one's own
reflective powers. The characteristic of courage may,
however, be supplied by conscious reason, since courage is
risking one evil to avoid another, or to gain an advantage,
on the supposition that the chances are favourable to the
attempt, whether in consequence of the relative magni-
tude of the two evils or the probabilities of their occur-
rence. Want of confidence in one's own reflective powers
is likewise corrected by reflection itself, when we say to
ourselves that no one can do more than is in his power;
that therefore if he have done the utmost, he may calmly
await the result of the action, but that too long reflection
as a rule not merely helps no more than a brief reflection,
but by delaying action, does more harm than any possible
improvement of the result can bring advantage.
3. Appropriate Selection of means to end.—If an aim is
THE UNCONSCIOUS IN THE HUMAN MIND. 33
irrational, it is itself an inappropriate means to the main
aim of every being, the greatest possible sum of happiness
in life, which, if not clearly conscious to every one, yet as
faintly sounding organ-point is heard in all the chords of
life. But even where the ends are rational, or their choice
and estimation does not devolve upon the individual, but
only the choice of the means is entirely or partially left
to him, by irrational selection of the means unspeak-
able evil is wrought, which can never be made good
again. In important cases this is sufficiently striking; but
far greater is the influence in the thousand petty cares,
drudgeries, comforts and discomforts, pleasantnesses and
unpleasantnesses of the day, in the intercourse of business,
office, vocation, Society, family life, the relationship of
master and servant. It is especially in these cases, where
the immediate ends are partly frustrated by improper
means, partly attained at a disproportionate expense, and
where accordingly people make the life of themselves and
others far more difficult and bitter than it already is, by
all kinds of distress, torment, trouble, vexation, and spite.
And far more of all this comes from the limited insight of
the average man and his unsuitable choice of means to
the end in view, than from evil will, so that one is often
tempted to exclaim, “Would that people were more wicked,
if they were only less stupid!”
4. The determination of the will not according to the
passion of the moment, but according to the principle of
the greatest possible personal happiness-The brute, with
the few exceptions of the higher animals trained by
man, is essentially dependent on the momentary sen-
suous and instinctively aroused emotion. Where instinct
does not involve a reference to the future, the conscious-
ness of the animal also does not easily concern itself
there with, and only too often must it suffer from the con-
sequences of its absolute levity. Man, through his more
highly-developed consciousness, enjoys the privilege of
being able to oppose to the passions of the sensuous
VOL. II, C
*
34. PHILOSOPHY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS.
moment desires, which are voluntarily produced by repre-
sentations of the future, and has therein a means of
securing for the Ego of the future an ideal equality with
the Ego of the present. But now, owing to the less vivid
character of voluntary ideas, the strength of the oppos-
ing desires is considerably circumscribed, and they are no
longer able to offer a successful resistance to a tolerably
strong emotion begotten by the sensuous present, Such
an emotion rather hurries the man back to the stage of
animality, and if he re-emerge from it with moderate loss
and repentance, he may thank his lucky stars. If, then,
the claim of the future Ego, and the principle of the
greatest possible personal happiness, is to be preserved,
there is nothing for it but to prevent the growth of the
passions to so overpowering a degree, i.e., to suppress them
earlier, most Surely and most easily in their origin. Here we
have found the second reason for suppressing the emotions.
An important office of reflection further is, to decide which
of the many simultaneous aims of life that run athwart
one another at any moment deserves to be supported, in
order at any moment to contribute as much as possible to
the total happiness; for the continually changing circum-
stances also require that we continually change, sometimes
entirely let go, sometimes resume at a more favourable
time, the aims for whose attainment one happens to be
labouring.
5. Value of conscious reason for morality.—Most im-
moral actions are completely prevented by a prudent
egoism, which proceeds according to the principle of the
greatest possible personal happiness, especially in a State
with an orderly system of law, and a society which
punishes with its contempt such immoralities as the State
cannot punish. That not many cases remain in which
the ordinances of morality cannot be established in an
egoistic manner is sufficiently proved by this, that so
many ethical systems are openly or disguisedly based on
egoism and the principle of the greatest possible personal
THE UNCONSCIOUS IN THE HUMAN MIND. 35
happiness, e.g., the Epicurean, the Stoic, the Spinozistic.
For all such cases one sees that the exercise of reason
hitherto spoken of must suffice for morality, and in
point of fact, along with custom brought about by com-
pulsion, this reference to egoism is almost the only suc-
cessful way to teach and to improve morality. What is
not attained by it is hardly at all attainable from the point
of view of individual ethics.
If one, however, disregards the practically vital effect of
a rule of conduct, and contemplates the theoretical value
of the ethical systems, there will hardly be any doubt that,
whatever theoretical foundations of ethics be assumed, they
can only be such as consist of principles of conscious reason,
if they possess any scientific ground whatsoever, and are
to be capable of supporting a system. I shall not, how-
ever, say more on this point now, in order not to wander
too far from our theme.
6. Correct choice of a calling, occupation of leisure, inter-
course, and friends.--"Whoever is born with a talent, finds
therein his fairest existence ’’ (Göthe), therefore it is very
important, on the one hand, to recognise one's talent, which
may be very considerable and yet be entirely missed; and,
on the other hand, in youthful enthusiasm for an object,
not to imagine a talent which one does not possess. Were
both cases not frequent, so many men would not miss
their vocation, the choice of which, in spite of all limita-
tions, affords the individual tolerably wide scope. Still
more difficult is it to detect the chief among several
talents; more easy, on the other hand, to make the equally
important choice of the dilettante Occupation of leisure,
because so much does not depend on alternation, and
time is thereby gained for experimenting. As the choice
of a calling requires a large self-knowledge, so the choice of
intercourse and of friends requires a large knowledge of the
world and of men. This is a human need; and one has
not to choose whether, but with whom one will associate.
The importance of the matter may be imagined when we
#.
36 PHILOSOPHY OF THE UNCONSCIO U.S. .
consider how the possession of a single, entirely congenial
and true friend is able to afford consolation in the greatest
misfortunes, but what bitter disappointments may be pre-
pared by the choice of unsuitable friends. Nevertheless
one often sees friendships concluded and persisted in for a
long time, which are so little harmonious that one would
think the people must be smitten with blindness. In
fact, however, did not human beings, in their heart of hearts,
actually regard themselves as as unreasonable as they
are, it would not be possible for reconciliations so com-
monly to take place after occurrences which, referred to
faults of character, could never be forgiven, and are only
to be excused by unreason, wherefore men are fond of
designating their mad pranks aberrations.—The imprudent
choice of a friend is most bitterly avenged in marriage,
because here the loosening of the relations is supremely
difficult ; and yet this is a case where regard is paid to
almost anything else (beauty, money, family) than to
harmony of character. Were people not afterwards so
intellectually indifferent about fitting well or ill, when
they see that they have been mistaken in each other, there
would be many more bad marriages in the world than
there are.
7. Suppression of useless feelings of pain.—Pleasure and
pain consist in Satisfaction and non-Satisfaction of desire,
which are produced by converse with the outer world, and
which man can only influence by reacting on the external
circumstances, which is the end of all action. If his power
does not extend so far as to procure the satisfaction of
his desires, he must just bear the pain, and can then only
diminish or annihilate it by diminishing or annihilating
the desire, in the non-satisfaction of which the pain con-
sists. If one consistently carries this out in the case of
every pain, the exciting capacity of the desires is blunted
in accordance with the law of habit, consequently the
future feelings of pleasure are as much diminished as
the future feelings of pain. Whoever is of my opinion,
THE UNCONSCIOUS IN THE HUMAN MIND. 37
that on the average in human life the sum of the painful
feelings far outweighs the sum of the pleasurable feelings,
must perforce admit this general principle of hebetation
as logical consequence of this view. But whoever does not
at all or only in a qualified sense assent to this opinion, I
refer to the not inconsiderable number of those painful
feelings which are opposed to no feeling of pleasure at all,
*.e., in which the satisfaction of the underlying desire lies
outside the domain of possibility, as e.g., in pain for past
events which cannot happen over again, vexation, impa-
tience, envy, spite, remorse, which can bring no moral
profit, further excessive sensibility, groundless jealousy,
immoderate anxiety and care for the future, too lofty expec-
tations of life, &c. Only consider how much the life of
humanity would gain if one could eradicate every one of
these foes of the mind's peace—the advantage would be
incalculable; and yet it is open to every one to purify his
life from these disturbers of his freedom by the application
of conscious reason, if only he does not at once lose heart
for the struggle through a few unsuccessful attempts.
Thus we have found here a third ground for the suppres-
Sion of the passions. -
8. The highest and most enduring human enjoyment
afforded by the search for truth-The more concentrated
and vehement is an enjoyment, the shorter time can it last,
before reaction sets in, and the longer one must wait for
its repetition; think of the delights of the table and of
the amatory impulse in particular. The calmer, clearer,
and purer an enjoyment is, the longer it can endure, the
fewer pauses it needs for recreation; compare the musi-
cal, poetical and Scientific pleasures. Thus it happens,
that the strongest enjoyments, on account of the brevity
of their duration and their necessary rarity, are not the
greatest in amount, that rather the most spiritual, above
all the scientific, afford a far larger total of pleasure in the
same time by reason of their duration. The other reasons
why the enjoyment which lies in striving after truth is
38 PHILOSOPHY OF THE UN CONSCIOUS.
the highest, are so well known, that I will spare my
readers an enumeration of them. Moreover, no one will
doubt that we owe the mass of our science, especially the
abundance and elaboration of its material, to conscious
I’68 SOI). -
9. The support of artistic production by conscious labour
and criticism.—I can here appeal in the main to what has
been said in Chap. V., B. Although the Unconscious has
to furnish the invention, yet in the first place criticism
must step in to prevent feeble execution and to purify
what is good from excess of phantasy; and secondly, con-
scious work must fill up the pauses, when the inspirations
of the Unconscious are silent, and the conscious concen-
tration of the will must carry the work to completion with
iron industry, if enthusiasm for the same is not to perish
of ennui on the road.—
What has been hitherto said with regard to the value of
conscious reason and knowledge could, having regard to Our
main object, only consist of hasty hints, which may have
been all too trite; the opportunities for interesting psycho-
logical remarks could not but be passed over unused, and
the living clothing of the dry abstraction be left to the
reader, and yet such a comparison could not be omitted,
in order to offer a counterpoise to the value of the Uncon-
scious, which was made prominent in all the earlier
chapters.
I may perhaps be permitted to state these points quite
succinctly once again.
I. The Unconscious forms and preserves the organism,
repairs its inner and outer injuries, appropriately guides
its movements, and mediates its employment by the con-
scious will. . w
2. The Unconscious supplies every being in its instinct
with what it needs for self-preservation, and for which its
conscious thought does not suffice, e.g., man the instincts
for comprehending sense-perception, for the formation of
language and political constitutions, and many other things.
THE UNCONSCIOUS IN THE HUMAN MIND. 39
3. The Unconscious preserves the species through sexual
and maternal love, ennobles it through selection in Sexual
love, and conducts the human race historically steadily to
the goal of its greatest possible perfection.
4. The Unconscious often guides men in their actions
by hints and feelings, where they could not help them-
Selves by conscious thought.
5. The Unconscious furthers the conscious process of
thought by its inspirations in small as in great matters,
and in mysticism guides mankind to the presentiment of
higher, SuperSensible unities.
6. It makes men happy through the feeling for the beau-
tiful and artistic production.—
If now we institute a comparison between the Conscious
and Unconscious, it is first of all obvious that there is
a sphere which is always reserved to the Unconscious,
because it remains for ever inaccessible to consciousness.
Secondly, we find a sphere which in certain beings only
belongs to the Unconscious, but in others is also ac-
cessible to consciousness. Both the scale of organisms
as well as the course of the world's history may teach us
that all progress consists in magnifying and deepening the
sphere open to consciousness; that therefore in a certain
sense consciousness must be the higher of the two. Fur-
ther, if in man we consider the sphere belonging both to
the Unconscious and also to consciousness, this much is
certain, that everything which any consciousness has power
to accomplish can be executed equally well by the Un-
conscious, and that too always far more strikingly, and
therewith more quickly and more conveniently for the
individual, since the conscious performance must be striven
for, whereas the Unconscious comes of itself and without
effort. This convenience of abandoning oneself to the
Unconscious, its feelings and inspirations, is tolerably
familiar, and hence the conscious use of reason is so de-
cried in all and every one by the indolent. That the
Unconscious can really outdo all the performances of
4O PHILOSOPHY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS.
conscious reason, is what we should not only 3 priori
expect of the clairvoyance of the Unconscious, but we see
it also realised in those fortunate natures which possess
everything that others must acquire with toil, who never
have a struggle of conscience, because they always spon-
taneously act correctly and morally in accordance with
feeling, can never comport themselves otherwise than with
tact, learn everything easily, complete everything which
they begin with a happy knack, and live in eternal harmony
with themselves, without ever reflecting much what they
do, or even experiencing difficulty and toil. In respect to
action and behaviour, the fairest specimens of these in-
stinctive natures are only seen in women, who then surpass
all imagination in their bewitching womanliness.-
But now what disadvantage lies in this self-surrender
to the Unconscious ! This, that one never knows where
One is or what one has ; that one gropes in the dark, while
one has got the lantern of consciousness in one's pocket;
that it is left to accident, whether the inspiration of the
Unconscious will come when one wants it ; that one has
no criterion but success, what is an inspiration of the
Unconscious, and what a wrong-headed flash of whimsical
fancy, on what feeling one may rely, and on what not ;
finally, that one does not practise conscious judgment and
reflection, which can never be entirely dispensed with, and
that then in any case which occurs one must put up with
wretched analogies instead of rational inferences and all-
sided survey. Only the Conscious one knows as one's own,
the Unconscious confronts us as something incomprehen-
sible, foreign, on whose favour we are dependent ; the Con-
scious is possessed as ever-ready servant, whose obedience
may be always compelled; the Unconscious protects us like
a fairy, and has always something uncomfortably demonic
about it. I may be proud of the work of consciousness, as
my own deed, the fruit of my own hard labour; the fruit of
the Unconscious is as it were a gift of the gods, and man
only its favoured messenger; it can therefore only teach
THE UNCONSCIOUS IN THE HUMAN MIND. 41
him humility. The Unconscious is, as soon as it is there,
complete from top to toe, has no judgment on itself,
and must therefore be taken just as it is, the Conscious
is its own measure, it judges itself, and improves itself, and
is to be changed any moment, as soon as a newly-gained
cognition or changed circumstances require it. I know
what in my consciously obtained result is good, and what
it lacks for perfection, therefore it gives me the feeling of
security, because I know what I have ; but also that of
modesty, because I know that it is still imperfect. The
Unconscious leaves no room for improvement. A man
can never acquire greater perfection in the works of the
Unconscious, because his first as his last appear as invol-
untary inspirations,—consciousness contains in itself the
infinite perfectibility of the individual and of the race, and
therefore fills man with the infinite striving after the per-
fection which blesses. The Unconscious is independent
of the conscious will at any moment, but its functioning is
altogether dependent on the unconscious will, the funda–
mental emotions, passions, and main interests of mankind,
—the Conscious is subject to the conscious will at every
moment, and can entirely emancipate itself from interest
and the emotions and passions. Action in conformity
with the inspirations of the Unconscious consequently ex-
clusively depends on the innate and acquired character,
and is good or bad accordingly,–action from conscious-
ness may be regulated according to principles which reason
dictates. *
After this comparison there will be no hesitation in
admitting consciousness to be for us the more important,
and herewith confirming our previous conclusion from the
organic series and the progress of history. Wherever con–
sciousness is able to replace the Unconscious, it ought to
replace it, just because it is to the individual the higher,
and such objections to it as that the constant application of
conscious reason renders pedantic, costs too much time,
&c., are mistaken, for pedantry only arises from imperfect
42 PHILOSOPHY OF THE UNCONSCIO US.
use of the reason, when in applying general rules one does
not take account of the particular differences, and reflection
costs too much time only with deficient material of know-
ledge and unsatisfactory theoretical preparation for prac-
tice, or with irresolution, which can only be obviated
by the use of reason itself. One ought, therefore, to try
to expand the sphere of conscious reason as much as pos-
sible, for therein consists all the progress of the world-
process, all the salvation of the future. That this sphere
is not positively transgressed, for that provision is made
by its impossibility; but another danger certainly lurks
in such an attempt, and this is the place for warning on
that head. Conscious reason, namely, is only denying,
criticising, contrasting, correcting, measuring, comparing,
combining, classifying, inducing the general from the
particular, ordering the particular case according to the
general rule; but it is never creatively productive,
never inventive. Here man is entirely dependent on the
Unconscious, as we have seen before, and if he loses the
faculty of hearing the inspirations of the Unconscious, he
loses the spring of his life, without which he would drag
on his existence monotonously in the dry schematism of
the general and particular. The Unconscious is, there-
fore, indispensable for him, and woe to the age which
violently suppresses its voice, because in one-sided over-
estimate of the conscious-rational it will only give heed
to the latter. Then it falls irrecoverably into a vapid,
shallow rationalism, which struts about in childish senes–
cent knowingness, without being able to do anything posi-
tive for its posterity, as the time of the Wolff-Mendelssohn-
Nicolai mock-enlightenment at which we now smile. Not
with rude fist should one crush the tender germs of the
unconscious inspirations, when they shall come again, but
watch for them with childlike devotion, and tenderly touch
and cherish them. And this is the danger to which every
one is exposed who one-sidedly tries to make his existence
entirely dependent on conscious reason, when he desires
THE UNCONSCIOUS IN THE HUMAN MIND. 43
to transfer it to art and feeling and everything, and tries
to renounce the rule of the Unconscious wherever it seems
to him possible. Wherefore occupation with the arts is so
necessary a counterpoise to the rationalistic education of
our time, as that in which the Unconscious finds its most
immediate expression, certainly not such a technical art-
exercise as is carried on at the present day from fashion
and vanity, but initiation into the feeling for the beautiful,
into the comprehensive and the true spirit of art. Equally
important is it to make youth more acquainted with
animal life as the unadulterated spring of pure Nature, in
order that it may learn to understand in it its own essence
in simplified form, and may quicken and refresh itself
therein as a relief from the unnaturalness and distortion
of our social states. Further, one ought to be quite par-
ticularly on one's guard against making the female Sex
too rational, for where the Unconscious must first be re-
duced to silence, success is only attained at the cost of
repulsive caricatures; but where the unconscious ten-
dency harmonises with the demands of consciousness, it is
a useless and in general injurious task. Woman namely
is related to man, as instinctive or unconscious to rational
or conscious action; therefore the genuine woman is a
piece of Nature, on whose bosom the man estranged from
the Unconscious may refresh and recruit himself, and can
again acquire respect for the deepest and purest spring of
all life. And to preserve this treasure of the eternal
womanly, the woman also should be as far as possible
shielded by the man from all contact with the rough
struggle of life, where it is needful to display conscious
force, and should be restrained in the Sweet natural
bonds of the family. Undoubtedly also the high worth
of woman for man is found only in the period of transi-
tion, when the division between Conscious and Unconscious
has already taken place, but the reconciliation of the two
has not yet been completed. This transitional stage in
which at the present day all civilised nations still are,
44 PHILOSOPHY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS.
will also not be spared the individual in his period of
development for the whole future, and therefore the
eternal womanly will remain for all time an indispensable,
complementary, and educating moment for the youth of
the male sex. It is not saying too much that for a young
man noble female intercourse is far more helpful than
male, and in a greater degree the more philosophical the
man's bent; for female intercourse is related to the male,
as the survey obtained in actual life to the surveyin books.
Lack of male intercourse may be compensated by books,
of female never.—Lastly, we ought constantly to keep
before our own and others' eyes all that we owe to the
Unconscious, as a counterpoise to the advantages of con-
scious reason, in order that the already half-exhausted
spring of everything true and good may not completely
dry up, and humanity enter upon a premature old age ;
and to direct attention to this need was one powerful
impulse more, determining me to reduce to writing the
thoughts presented in this work.
C.
MAE ZTAAA/VS/C OF ZTA, E UAVCOAWSC/O U.S.
“Come to Physics, and see the Eternal | *—SchPLLING.
( 47 )
I.
THE DIFFERENTIAE OF CONSCIOUS AND UN CONSCIOUS
MENTAL ACTIVITY AND THE UNITY OF WILL AND IDEA
IN THE UN CONSCIOUS.
I. The Unconscious does not fall ill, but conscious
mental activity can sicken if its material organs suffer
disturbances, whether from bodily causes, or through
violent shocks, arising from violent mental emotions.
This point, so far as we are able to enter upon it, has been
already touched upon in the chapter on the Vis Mediatrix:
(vol. i. 161–168).
2. The Unconscious does not grow weary, but all con-
scious mental activity becomes fatigued, because its
material organs become temporarily unserviceable, in con-
sequence of a quicker consumption of material than
nutrition can repair in the same time. Undoubtedly,
fatigue may be avoided by occupying a different sense, or
by changing the object of thought or of sense-perception,
because then other organs and parts of the brain are
brought into requisition, or at least the same organs are
constrained to a different kind of activity; but the general
fatigue of the central organ of consciousness is not to be
prevented, even by the change of objects, and with every
new object takes place the Sooner, the longer attention
has already been absorbed with other objects, until at last
complete exhaustion ensues, which is only to be compen-
sated by fresh absorption of oxygen during sleep. The
more we approach the sphere of the Unconscious the
less is fatigue observable, as, for example, in the depart-
ment of the feelings, and the less defined they are in
48 PHILOSOPHY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS.
consciousness, for so much the more does their proper
essence belong to the Unconscious. Whilst a thought is
probably not to be retained in consciousness without
interruption for more than two seconds, and thinking
grows weary in a few hours, one and the same feeling
remains, with fluctuating intensity it is true, but uninter-
ruptedly, often for days and nights, nay, for months, and
if it at last becomes blunted, yet, in contrast to thinking,
the receptivity for other feelings does not appear to be
impaired, and these them do not grow weary earlier than
they would otherwise have done. The latter assertion
only so far needs limitation, as the frame of mind is to be
taken notice of at the same time.—Before falling asleep,
when the intellect becomes weary, the feelings which
oppress us emerge the more powerfully because they are
not impeded by thoughts, so strongly indeed that they
often prevent sleep. Even in dream vivid feelings are
often much more frequent than clear thoughts, and very
many dream-images manifestly owe their origin to present
feelings. Further, let any one remember the restless
night before an important event; the waking of the
mother at the slightest cry of her child, accompanied with
total insensibility to other stronger noises; the awaking
at a fixed hour, if a decided volition has been exerted to
that end, and the like. All this proves the unwearied
persistence of the feelings, the interest and the will in
the Unconscious, or even with quite weak affection of
consciousness, whereas the wearied intellect rests, or at
the most idly gazes on the juggle of dreams. Where we
have to do with that condition which, of all those that
are at all accessible to our observation, lies most deeply
in the Unconscious and least emerges into consciousness,
the ecstasy of the mystics, there, agreeably to the nature
of the case, the fatigue is also reduced to a minimum, for
“a hundred years are as one hour,” and even bodily
fatigue, as in the winter sleep of animals, becomes almost
obliterated by the incredible slackening of all organic
METAPHYSIC OF THE UNCONSCIOUS. 49
functions;-think of the ever-praying pillar-Saints, or the
Indian penitents and their distorted postures.
3. All conscious Ideation has the form of Sensibility;
wnconscious Thought can only be of a non-sensuous kind.—
We think either in images, when we directly receive the
sense-impressions and their transformations and combina-
tions from memory, or we think in abstractions. These
abstractions are, however, also merely abstracted from
sense-impressions, and however much is allowed to drop
out in abstracting, so long as anything is retained at all,
it can only be something that already inhered in the
whole from which abstraction was first made, i.e., even the
abstract ideas are for us only remnants of sense-impressions,
and have consequently the form of sensibility.—That the
Sense-impressions which we receive from things have no
resemblance to these is already sufficiently known by
natural Science. Further, every sense-perception is eo
ºp30 united with consciousness, i.e., it always excites the
latter, whenever it does not light on an already exist-
ing sphere of consciousness and is apperceived by this.
The Unconscious, accordingly, if it willed to represent
things in the form of sensibility, would not only represent
them inadequately, but it would always, in this mode of
perception, step out of the Sphere of unconscious into
that of conscious mental activity, as it does in fact do
in the individual consciousness of organisms. If we
then inquire into the nature of the unconscious spiritual
activity of the Unconscious, it follows from what has
been said that it can not take on the form of sensibility.
But now as consciousness on its part, as we have seen
above, can represent nothing at all unless in the form of
sensibility, it follows that now and never can conscious-
ness frame a direct conception of the mode and manner
in which the unconscious idea is presented; it can only
know negatively that the former is represented in no
way of which it can form any idea. One can, at the most,
form the very probable supposition that things are repre-
WOL. II. D
5O PHILOSOPHY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS.
sented in the unconscious idea as they are in themselves,
since it would be far from intelligible why things should
appear to the Unconscious otherwise than they are ; rather
things are what they are just because they are represented
by the Unconscious thus, and not otherwise. Certainly
this explanation throws no light on the nature of the idea
itself, and we do not become wiser in respect to the mode
and manner of unconscious representation.
4. The Unconscious does not vacillate and doubt; it
needs no time for reflection, but instantaneously grasps the
Tesult at the same moment in which it thinks the whole
logical process that produces the result, all at once, and
not successively, which is the same thing as not thinking it
at all, but discerning the result immediately in intel-
lectual intuition with the infinite penetration of the
purely logical. This point also we have already often
mentioned, and have everywhere found so thoroughly
confirmed, that we might employ it as an infallible
criterion, in order to decide, in any particular case,
whether we had to do with the action of the Unconscious
or with a conscious performance. Wherefore the con-
viction of this proposition must be essentially gained
from the sum of our previous considerations.—Here I
shall only add the following:—The ideal philosophy de-
mands an intelligible world without space and time,
which is opposed to the phenomenal world, with its
forms valid for conscious thought and being, space and
time. How Space is posited only in and with Nature we
shall see later on ; here we are concerned with Time.
Now, if we may assume that the Unconscious compresses
every process of thought, along with its results, into a
moment, i.e., into no time, the thinking of the Unconscious
is timeless, although still in time, because the moment in
which there is thought has its temporal place in the
remaining series of temporal phenomena. If we, how-
ever, reflect that this moment in which there is thought
is only perceived in the coming-to-manifestation of its
METAPHYSIC OF THE UNCONSCIOUS. 5.I
result, and the thought of the Unconscious in each
special case only acquires existence for a definite
entrance into the phenomenal world (for it does not
need reflections and resolutions), the conclusion is
obvious that the thought of the Unconscious is only so
far in time as the entering into manifestation of this
thought is in time, but that the thought of the Un-
conscious, apart from the phenomenal world and from
entrance into it, would in fact be not only timeless, but
also non-temporal, i.e., out of all time. Then, too, we
should cease to speak of ideational activity of the Un-
conscious in the strict sense ; but the world of possible
representations would, as ideal existence, be enclosed in
the bosom of the Unconscious, and the activity, as being
something temporal, at least time-positing, in its very
notion, would only begin in the moment that from this
quiescent ideal world the one or other of all possible
presentations enters into real manifestation, which comes
to pass precisely through this, that it is laid hold of
by the will as its content, as we shall subsequently see
at the end of the present section. We should have
hereby comprehended the realm of the Unconscious as
the metaphysically tenable side of Kant's intelligible
world.—It is in thorough agreement with this that dura-
tion only enters into conscious thought through the
material organ of consciousness; that conscious thought
only requires time because the cerebral vibrations on
which it rests require time, as I have briefly shown in
Sect. B., chap. viii. (vol. i. pp. 346, 347).
5. The Unconscious does not err.—The proof of this pro-
position must be confined to establishing that that which,
on a superficial view, might be taken for errors of the Un-
conscious, on nearer inspection could not be so regarded.
Thus, e.g., the supposed errors of instinct may be reduced
to the four following cases —
(a) Where no special instinct exists, but merely an
organisation, which, owing to the exceptional strength of
52 PHILOSOPHY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS.
certain muscles, preferentially contracts these muscles.
Thus, e.g., the aimless butting of young cattle as yet desti-
tute of horns, or when the secretary-bird (serpent-eater)
crushes all its food with its strong legs before devouring
it, although this has only a purpose in the case of living
snakes. In these cases the organisation is there to render
superfluous, and to supply the place of, a special instinct
which would be suitable in certain cases; the organisation,
however, urges to the same movements that are appro-
priate in certain cases, in other cases, also, where they are
superfluous and useless. But as the Unconscious does the
work once for all through the machinery of the organisa-
tion which it otherwise would have to do in each single
case, one would still have to recognise this arrangement
itself as suitable on account of the Saving of energy to
the Unconscious, if in certain cases this organisation acted
not only superfluously but even inappropriately and in-
juriously, and if only the number of the cases where it
is suitable considerably preponderates. But of this no
single example is known to me.
(b) Where instinct is killed by unnatural habits, a case
which frequently occurs in man and the domestic animals,
e.g., when the latter devour on the pastures poisonous
weeds and plants which they avoid in a state of nature,
or when man artificially accustoms many animals to a
food contrary to their nature. -*
(c.) Where instinct, for accidental reasons, is not func-
tional; thus the inspiration of the Unconscious is entirely
wanting, or occurs in so feeble a degree that other opposing
impulses overcome it, e.g., when an animal does not shun
its natural enemy, and thereby falls a sacrifice to one whom
other animals of its kind are wont instinctively to flee, or
when maternal affection is so slight in a pig that the desire
for food leads it to devour its offspring.
(d.) Where instinct, indeed, performs its functions cor-
rectly on the occurrence of a conscious idea, but this
conscious idea contains an error. If, e.g., a hen broods on
METAPHYSIC OF THE UNCONSCIOUS. 53
a piece of chalk rounded like an egg that has been placed
under it, or the spider carefully nourishes a bundle of
cotton substituted for its ovisac, in both cases it is the
conscious idea that errs in consequence of defective sense-
perception, which takes the chalk for an egg, the ball of
cotton for an ovisac. Instinct, however, does not err, for
it quite rightly makes its appearance on the presentation.
It would be unreasonable to require that the clairvoyance
of instinct should be here manifested to correct the error
of conscious representation; for the clairvoyance of in-
stinct always is only concerned with just those points
which conscious perception is in general not able to attain,
but not with those for which the mechanism of sense-
knowledge suffices in all ordinary cases. But even if this
claim were set up, one could never say that the Uncon-
scious erred, but only that it did not come into play with
its clairvoyance when it should have come into play.
To these four cases everything might easily be referred
which one might be tempted to regard as apparent errors
of instinct. What in the human mind might be taken
for false and bad inspirations of the Unconscious might
be still more easily refuted. When one hears of mistaken
clairvoyance, one may be as Sure one is dealing with
intentional or unintentional deception, as in dreams which
do not prove true, that they are not suggestions of the
Unconscious. In the same way, one may take it for
granted beforehand that all the morbid and worthless
excrescences of mysticism or in artistic conceptions do
not spring from the Unconscious, but from consciousness,
namely, from morbid excesses of the fancy, or from per-
verted education and formation of principles, judgment,
and taste. Lastly, one must distinguish how far, and to
what degree, the influence of the Unconscious has reached
in any particular case. For I may, e.g., brood over some
invention, and have already made a start in a particular
direction; when, now, I am cracking my brain over a certain
point which seems to me to be alone wanting to complete
- 54 PHILOSOPHY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS.
the whole, I shall certainly have to thank the Uncon-
scious if this suddenly occurs to me. But now the in-
vention need by no means be herewith finished in a
serviceable fashion, for I may possibly have erred in my
belief that only this one point was wanting to complete
the whole, or the whole may be completed but be worth
nothing at all ; and yet one cannot assert that the sugges-
tion of the Unconscious was mistaken or bad, for it was
decidedly good and right as regards the point which I
was in search of, only the point sought was not the right
one. If another time a suggestion of the Unconscious
instantly shows the invention complete in all its outlines,
this latter inspiration has only gone further; but correct
and apt for the purpose, so far as they go, they are both,
as are all influences of the Unconscious.
6. Consciousness only acquires its value by means of
memory, i.e., through the property of the cerebral vibra-
tions to leave behind abiding impressions or molecular
changes of such a kind, that in future the same vibra-
tions are more easily excited than heretofore, in that the
brain now responds more easily, as it were, to the same
stimulus. This makes possible the comparison of present
perceptions with former ones, without which all forma-
tion of conceptions would be almost impossible; in
general terms, it renders possible the collection of ex-
periences. Conscious thought increases in perfection
according to the abundance of the materials of memory,
the store of conceptions and judgments, and the exercise
of thought. To the Unconscious, on the other hand, we can
ascribe no memory, since we can comprehend the latter
only with the help of the impressions persisting in the
brain; and memory may, in whole or in part, be tempo-
rarily or for ever lost by injuries of the brain. The
Unconscious also thinks everything which it needs for a
special case implicitly in an instant; it therefore needs to
institute no comparisons; just as little does it need ea:-
periences, since, in virtue of its clairvoyance, it knows or
METAPHYSIC OF THE UNCONSCIOUS. 55
can know everything as soon only as the will requires
it with sufficient urgency. The Unconscious is therefore
always perfect, so far as it can be in conformity with
its nature, and a further perfection in this direction is
unthinkable. If advance is to be made beyond that, it
must take place through a change of the direction itself,
i.e., through the transition from the Unconscious into
consciousness.
7. In the Unconscious, Will and Representation are
wnited in inseparable unity; nothing can be willed which
is not presented, and nothing can be presented which is not
willed. In consciousness, on the contrary, undoubtedly
also nothing can be willed which is not presented, but
something may be presented without its being willed.
Consciousness is the possibility of the emancipation of the
intellect from the will.—The impossibility of a volition
without presentation has been already discussed in
Sect. A., chap. iv.; here we are concerned with the im-
possibility of an unconscious idea without the conscious
will to its realisation, i.e., without this unconscious idea
being at the same time content or object of an un-
conscious will. This relation is clearest in instinct and
the unconscious presentations which have reference to
bodily processes. Here every single unconscious idea
is accompanied by an unconscious will, which stands to
the general will of self-preservation and preservation of
the species in the relation of willing the means to the
willing of the end. For that all instincts, with few
exceptions, follow the two main purposes in nature—
preservation of self and of the race—can hardly be
doubted, whether we look to the origin of reflex move-
ments, the healing actions of nature, Organic formative
processes and animal instincts, or to the instincts con-
cerned with the understanding of sensuous perception,
the formation of abstractions and indispensable ideas of
relation, the formation of language, or to the instincts
of shame, disgust, selection in sexual love, &c. It would
56 PHILOSOPHY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS.
be a bad look-out for men and animals if even only one
of these were wanting to them, e.g., language or the
formation of ideas of relation, both alike important for
animals and man. All instincts that do not appertain to
the preservation of self or the species have reference to the
third chief end in the world—perfection and ennoblement of
the species—a something that especially makes its appear-
ance in the human race. Under the general willing of
this end falls the willing of all special cases as means,
where the Unconscious furthers historical progress, be
it in thoughts (mystical acquisition of truths) or deeds,
whether in the individual (as in heroes of history), or
in masses of the people (as in the constituting of states,
migrations of nations, crusades, revolutions of a political,
ecclesiastical, or social kind, &c.) There still remains
the action of the Unconscious in the sphere of the beau-
tiful and in that of conscious thought. In both cases we
have already been obliged to confess that the incursion
of the Unconscious is, indeed, independent of the con-
scious will of the moment, but rather altogether de-
pendent on the interior interest in the object, on the
deep needs of the mind and heart for attaining this
particular goal; that it is, it is true, tolerably indepen-
dent of the circumstance whether one is consciously
occupied just at the moment with the subject, but that
it very much depends on a lasting and urgent occupation
with the same. If, now, the profound spiritual interest
and need of the heart is already itself a will essentially
unconscious, only in slight degree entering into conscious-
ness, or at least, like the earnest occupation with a subject,
is highly adapted to arouse and to excite the unconscious
will; if, further, the suggestion ensues the more easily,
the more profound is the interest, and the more it has
withdrawn from the clear heights of consciousness into the
dark abysses of the heart, i.e., into the Unconscious, we
shall certainly be authorised in assuming in these cases
likewise an unconscious will. In the mere apprehension
METAPHYSIC OF THE UNCONSCIO US. 57
of the beautiful, however, we shall certainly be obliged to
acknowledge an instinct which belongs to the third main
purpose, the perfection of the race, for one has only to
think what the human race would be, what, in the most
fortunate case, it could attain to at the end of history,
and how much more wretched this wretched human life
would become, if nobody knew the feeling of the beautiful.
There only remains yet one more point, which perhaps
will present no difficulty to most readers; I mean clair-
voyance in dreams which come true, visions, spontaneous
and artificial Somnambulism. But whoever accepts these
phenomena will be soon convinced that the unconscious
will is always co-operative. When clairvoyance refers to
the prescribing of remedies to one's self, this is at once
evident, and a clairvoyant prescription of remedies for
other persons I should be strongly inclined to doubt, un-
less they were intimates, whose welfare was almost as
much a matter of concern to the clairvoyants as their
own. Prophetic dreams, forebodings, visions, or flashes of
thought, which have other objects, refer either to important
points of one's own future, warning against danger, con-
solation for sorrow (Goethe's vision of his double), and the
like, or they make disclosures concerning beloved persons,
wife and child, announce, e.g., the death of the absent,
or imminent misfortune; or, lastly, they relate to events
of awful magnitude and extent, which touch every human
heart, e.g., the conflagration of large cities (Swedenborg),
especially of one's native town, &c. In all these cases one
sees how closely the suggestion of the Unconscious is
bound up with the inmost volitional interest of mankind;
in all these cases one is also, therefore, entitled to assume
an unconscious will, which stands for the waiversal interest
made Specific for this particular case yet unknown to com-
sciousness. Never will the clairvoyance of a human being
light of itself on things which are not most intimately
interwoven with the core of his own being; but as for the
answers of artificial Somnambulists to indifferent ques-
58 PHILOSOPHY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS.
tions, I may be permitted to doubt their derivation from
the Unconscious, as much as I feel bound to contemn
those magnetisers as vain braggarts or deceitful charlatans,
who do not scruple to put other questions to Somnambules
than such as have reference to personal well-being. Al-
though the somnambulistic state is more receptive for the
suggestions of the Unconscious than any other, yet only a
very small part of what occurs to a somnambulist is the
suggestion of the Unconscious, and experienced magnetisers
know well enough how much one has to take care lest the
fancies and dissimulation peculiar to women deceive even
in the Somnambulist state, without the Somnambulist her-
self having the conscious intention to deceive.
We may assume, as result of this inquiry, that we know
no unconscious idea which may not be united with un-
conscious will, and that, too, when we consider that the
unconscious idea is something quite other than that which
appears in consciousness as conception or inspiration of
the Unconscious ; the former and the latter are rather
related as essence and phenomenon, but at the same time
also as cause and effect. We shall thus find it very in-
structive that the unconscious will directly united with
the unconscious presentation, which represents the applica-
tion of the general interest to the particular case, consists in
nothing else than in the willing of the realisation of its
wnconscious representation, if by realisation we understand
manifestation in the natural world, and, moreover, imme-
diately in consciousness as representation in the form of
sensibility by eaccitation of the appropriate cerebral vibra-
tions. This is, however, the true unity of will and idea,
that the will wills absolutely nothing but the realisation
of its own content, i.e., the representation united with it.
On the other hand, if we consider consciousness and the
grand apparatus brought into play for its production, and
remember from the last chapter of the foregoing section
what we shall more exactly prove in chapter xiii. of the
present section, that all progress in the scale of beings and
METAPHYSIC OF THE UNCONSCIOUS. 59
in history consists in the expansion of the sphere where
consciousness prevails, but that this extension of rule can
only be conquered by liberation of consciousness from the
sway of passion and interest, in a word—the will—and
by sole subjection to conscious reason, the conclusion is
obvious that the progressive emancipation of the intellect
from the will is the proper motive and main purpose of
the creation of consciousness. This would be, however,
absurd if the Unconscious as such already contained the
possibility of this emancipation, for the whole vast appa-
ratus for introducing consciousness would then, with this
intention, be superfluous. From this, and from the phe-
nomenon that we are nowhere acquainted with an un-
conscious idea without unconscious will, I conclude that
will and idea can only exist in inseparable unity in the
TJnconscious; for it would be, to say the least, very won-
derful if unconscious representation separately existed
and we nowhere observed it.—To this may be added the
following confirmatory consideration.—
Thought or ideation, as such, is perfectly self-contained,
has no volition at all, no endeavour, or anything like it ;
it has also, as such, no pain or pleasure; is therefore also
quite unconcerned. All this does not attach to ideation,
but to volition. Consequently, ideation can never find
in itself a moment impelling to change; it will comport
itself absolutely indifferently, not only with respect to its
being thus or thus, but also with respect to its being
or not-being, since all this is quite indifferent to it, be-
cause it is in fact altogether unconcerned. It follows from
this that ideation, since it has neither an interest in its
own existence, nor any endeavour after the same, can also
find in itself no ground at all for passing from non-being
into being, or, if one prefers, from potential being into
actual being, i.e., that it requires for the existence of every
actual representation a basis outside ideation itself. This
basis is, for conscious ideation, matter in the form of sense-
impressions or cerebral vibrations; for unconscious idea-
6O PHILOSOPHY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS.
tion it cannot be this, otherwise it too would attain to
consciousness, as will be shown in the third chapter; con-
sequently for this material substratum there only remains
the unconscious will. This perfectly accords with our expe-
rience, for everywhere it is the interest, the definite will,
which, directed to the particular case, compels the idea
into being. The particular will, however, besides the
power of volition, shows also a definite (ideational) content,
and this content it is which determines the quality or
essence of the unconscious idea of the next moment,
which it, however, could not determine if its existence
were not demanded by the willing of the foregoing mo-
ment, and made possible by the persistence of the form
of volition even up to this moment.—I will here once
more add the remark, that since the act immediately
follows the will, there can be no spiritual activity in the
TJnconscious save at the moment of the commencing act.
Even when the will is too weak for the realisation of its
content and for overcoming the present resistance, this
holds good ; for either the deed consists in the abortive
attempt, or the Unconscious immediately thinks the ap-
propriate preparatory means instead of the end. But,
possibly repeated impulses on the part of the Unconscious
may be requisite, namely, when the mechanical progress
of the act stumbles upon obstacles which must be over-
powered by modified action.
An objection might here be raised, namely, that the
Unconscious wills only the final results, but must think
the whole thought-process leading to these results; but
whoever has attentively read No. 4 of this chapter will
have already found there the answer to this objection.
Unconscious thought embraces all the terms of a process,
reason and consequent, cause and effect, means and end, &c.,
in a single moment, and thinks them, not before, beside,
or beyond, but in the result itself; it never thinks them
except through the result. Therefore, this thinking cannot
be regarded as a special thinking outside the result; it is
METAPHYSIC OF THE UNCONSCIOUS. 6 I
rather implicitly contained in the thinking of the result,
without ever being explicated; consequently the result
is that which is alone thought in our ordinary sense, and
the proposition holds that only that can be unconsciously
thought which is willed.—Moreover, even in the ordinary
Category of unconscious thought, in means and end, one
may say that the end implicitly thought in the idea of
the willed means is also implicitly willed.
According to the foregoing, the sole activity of the Un-
conscious consists in willing, and the unconscious repre-
Sentation filling the will is only a non-temporal content,
merely dragged along with it, as it were, into time. Voli-
tion and activity are accordingly identical or reciprocal
notions. Only through them is Time posited; only through
them is the idea hurled from potential into actual being,
from being in the essence into being in the phenomenon,
and therewith into time. Quite otherwise is it with the
conscious idea, which is a product of different factors, of
which one, the cerebral vibrations, is from the first subject
to duration.
II.
BRAIN AND GANGLIA AS CONDITIONS OF ANIMAT,
CONSCIOUSINESS.
ALMOST all naturalists, physiologists, and physicians are
materialists, and the more the knowledge and method of
physics and physiology is diffused among the educated
public, the more does the materialistic view of the world
gain ground. What is the cause of this 2 The simplicity
and impressive evidentness of the facts on which the
materialistic conception of the animal and human Soul,
the only spiritual being known to us, is supported. Only
those unacquainted with these facts, as the unscientific
multitude, or the learned world without physical and phy-
siological knowledge, or those who approach these facts
with the preconceived opinions of religious or philoso-
phic systems, can alone remain outside their influence;
they must absolutely convince every unprejudiced think-
ing man, because they need only to be taken just as
they are ; they declare their meaning with such naive
plainness that it is not at all necessary to look for it. And
this naive clearness and directness, this forcible self-
evidence, which can only be denied with violence, this it is
which secures for the materialistic conception of the mind
so great a superiority over the difficult and subtle deduc-
tions and probabilities, over the arbitrary assumptions and
often distorted consequences, of the Spiritualistic psycho-
logy, which induces all clear heads, averse to mysti-
philosophic speculation to enrol themselves under the
banner of Materialism, which is simple as the Nature
that teaches it, and clear and precise in all its correct con-
sequences as this its august mother. That Materialism
METAPHYSIC OF THE UNCONSCIOUS. 63
thereby offends the religious systems can in our time only
gain it the more adherents; but that it contradicts specu-
lative philosophy, that does not trouble it at all; for how
few men have a speculative need ; how far fewer still philo-
sophical culture ? Accordingly Materialism has neither
the need nor the capacity to investigate the not-understood
abstractions, such as force, matter, &c., of which its system
consists, and it comports itself to the higher questions of
philosophy partly sceptically, in that it denies that their
solution lies on this side the limits of the human under-
standing, partly it denies the title of these questions alto-
gether. Thus it feels quite comfortable in its skin in all
directions, and is perfectly contented with the daily pro-
gressive discoveries of the natural sciences, in the good
faith that everything which man calls experience must be
derived from the pursuit of the special sciences. It is,
accordingly, no wonder that Materialism gains whereas
Philosophy loses ground ; for only a philosophy which
takes full account of all the results of the natural Sciences,
and accepts without reservation the perfectly legitimate
point of departure of Materialism, only such a philosophy
can hope to make a stand against Materialism, if at the
same time it fulfils the condition of being universally
intelligible, which the philosophy of Identity and absolute
Idealism unfortunately is not.
The first attempt to receive Materialism into Philosophy
in an intelligible fashion was made by Schopenhauer, and
not the least part both of his merit and of his growing
popularity is due to this attempt. But his compromise was
unsatisfactory ; it allowed Materialism the intellect, and
reserved to speculation the will. This violent dismem-
bering is his weak point; for if once conscious ideation
and thought is handed over to Materialism, it has full
right to claim also conscious feeling,and therewith conscious
desire and volition, since the physiological phenomena have
the same expression for all conscious activities of mind. It
is entirely inconsequent of Schopenhauer to refer the stores
64 PHILOSOPHY OF THE UN CONSCIO US.
of memory, together with the intellectual foundations,
talents, and aptitudes of the individual, to the consti-
tution of the brain, and to exclude from the same and to
hypostatise as an individual metaphysical essence, in
defiance of his fundamental monistic principle, the char-
acter of the individual, which just as easily, if not
more easily, is capable of such an explanation. In fact,
there are no means of overturning the first fundamental
proposition of Materialism, “All conscious mental activity
can only come to pass by normal function of the brain,”
but by the ignoring or subtle explaining away of facts.
IBut now, as long as any one knows or will know no
other than conscious mental activity, this proposition
asserts, “All mental activity can only comé to pass through
brain function.” The conclusion is obvious: “Either
all mental activity is pure function of the brain, or a
product of brain function and something else, which is
inherently incapable of expression, but is purely poten-
tial, and only attains expression in and by the normal brain
function, which now appears as mental activity.” It is
evident that a decision between these alternatives, all others
being laid aside as useless, meaningless ballast, is hardly to
be evaded. Quite otherwise does the matter appear as soon
as one already recognises unconscious mental action as the
original and primary form, without whose assistance con-
scious mental activity would be paralysed. Then the pro-
position only says, “Conscious mental activity can only
take place through the function of the brain.” With
respect to unconscious mental activity, on the other hand,
it says nothing at all; it remains, therefore, since all the
phenomena demonstrate their independence of brain func-
tions, as something self-dependent, and only the form of
consciousness appears conditioned by matter.
We pass on now briefly to present the facts, the theo-
retical expression for which is the above proposition. {
1. The brain is in formal and material respects the
highest product of organic formative activity.
METAPHYSIC OF THE UNCONSCIO US. 65
“We find in the brain mountains and valleys, bridges
and aqueducts, beams and arches, vices and hoes, claws
and Ammon's horns, trees and sheaves, harps and Sounding
staves, &c., &c. Nobody has perceived the significance of
these strange forms” (Huschke in “Skull, Brain, and Soul
of Man”).
There is no animal organ which has tenderer, more
wonderful, more varied forms, finer and more peculiar
structure. The ganglionic cells of the brain send off primi-
tive fibres, and are in part mutually connected and in
part surrounded by the same. These primitive fibres,
hollow tubes filled with an oily, coagulable content, about
Tºrpth line in thickness, again intertwine and cross one
another in the strangest fashion. Unfortunately the
difficult anatomy of the brain is still as backward as its
chemical investigation; but even from the latter we already
know this much, that the chemical composition of the
brain is by no means as simple as was formerly believed;
that it is exceedingly different at different places; that the
peculiar cerebral fats with their phosphorus content play
a great part in it, and find other matters there which
occur in no other tissue in the same way, e.g., cerebrin
and lecithin. For the rest, how backward our chemistry
still is in regard to such investigations, one may infer from
the fact that it cannot distinguish blood or pus which
is infected with contagious matter from healthy blood;
that the differences between isomeric substances (of the
same composition, but of unlike qualities owing to different
atomic position, as is shown by the different refraction of
light and rotation) frequently vanish on analysis, so that
it is only now beginning to discover a number of finely
distributed metals by means of spectrum analysis, minute
quantities of which in organic substances may be of the
greatest importance. All these things acquire the more
importance the higher the organic tissues with which one
is concerned.
2. In the brain the change of material is more rapid
WOL. II. E
66 PHILOSOPHY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS.
than in any other part of the body, wherefore also the
flow of blood is disproportionately much stronger. This
points to a concentration of vital activity in the brain,
such as takes place in no other part of the body.
3. The brain (by which in this section the cerebrum
is always alone to be understood) has no direct import-
ance for the organic functions of bodily life. This is
proved by the experiments of Flourens, who showed that
animals from which the brain had been removed can live
and thrive for months and years. Care must certainly be
taken that the operation itself and the accompanying loss
of blood be not too violent, and does not reduce too much
the force of the animal; wherefore the experiment can only
perfectly succeed in those animals from which the brain
may be removed without too much difficulty, e.g., fowls.
Trom these first three points it may be concluded that the
brain, the flower of the organism and the seat of the most
vital activity, must have a mental destination, since it has
'no corporeal one.
4. With increasing perfection of the brain or of the
ganglia representing it increases the mental capacity in
the animal kingdom, whereas the corporeal functions of
all animals, clever or stupid, may, as a rule, be performed
equally well. As low down as the Insects it is strikingly
manifest how the size of the cephalic ganglia is proportional
to the intelligence of the orders and species. The Hymen-
optera have in general larger ganglia than the stupid
beetles, and they are particularly large in the clever ants.
In the case of the vertebrates, one must make the inner
space within the skull the ground of comparison, as this
includes the central organs of motion, which of course
must correspond in size to the mass of nerve and muscle
of the animal, in order to be able to expend the requisite
energy on its motor impulses. If we now merely consider
the cerebrum proper, there appears in animals of not too dif-
ferent size a clear parallelism between quantity of brain and
intelligence. So far, however, as in animals of very different
METAPHYSIC OF THE UNCONSCIOUS. 67
size (e.g., very small and very large dogs, canary birds and
ostrich), this parallelism appears disturbed, a qualitative
compensation of the cerebrum is distinctly perceptible,
especially by abundant and deep convolutions and furrows,
5. The mental tendencies and executive capacity of
mankind are in proportion to quantity of brain, so far
as the quality of the same does not give rise to ex-
ceptions. “According to the exact measurements of
Peacock, the weight of the human brain gradually and
very rapidly increases up to the twenty-fifth year, re-
mains at this normal weight up to the fiftieth, and
thenceforward gradually diminishes. According to Sims,
the brain, which increases in bulk till the thirtieth or
fortieth year, only attains the maximum of its volume
between the fortieth and fiftieth year. The brain of old
people becomes atrophied, i.e., Smaller; it shrivels, and
there arise hollow spaces between the several convolu-
tions, which before were firmly attached to one another.
Dy this the substance of the brain becomes tougher, the
colour greyer, the blood-content less, the convolutions
narrower, and the chemical constitution of the brain of
the old man, according to Schlossberger, again approaches
that of the earliest life-period” (Büchner, Force and Matter,
5th edit., p. Io9). The average weight of the brain,
according to Peacock, amounts in the man to fifty, in the
woman to forty-four ounces; according to Hoffmann, the
difference amounts only to two ounces. Lauret drew
from the measurements of two thousand heads the result,
that both the circumference as well as the diameter,
measured at different places, is always less in women than
in men. Whilst the normal weight amounts to three to
three and a half pounds, the brain of Cuvier weighed over
four pounds. Inherited mental imbecility always shows
a surprisingly small brain ; conversely abnormal smallness
of brain is always combined with imbecility. Panhappe
proves from 782 cases the gradual diminution of the brain's
weight in correspondence with the decrease of intelligence
68 PHILOSOPHY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS.
in madness or with the depth of mental disturbance. In
all Cretins brain and skull are surprisingly small, the latter
exhibiting assymmetry and deformity; the hemispheres in
particular are wasted. The brain of the negro is much
smaller than that of the European, the forehead retreating,
the skull less in circumference, generally more animal;
the natives of New Holland lack the higher parts of the
brain in a surprising degree. Also the structure of the
IEuropean skull has made no slight advance in historic
times. Especially with the progress of civilisation the
anterior region of the head becomes prominent at the
expense of the posterior, as is proved by excavations
relating to widely different times. The same relation
also occurs in general between the rude and cultured
classes of the present day, as, among other things, the
experiences of hatmakers confirm. That here not isolated
cases, but only average numbers are decisive, is matter of
course ; individual exceptions, e.g., of clever people having
a small, stupid people a large skull, must be referred
partly to the thickness of the skull, partly to the differ-
ence of plan and finish, partly to the form of the convolu-
tions and the quality of the brain.
What we know of the influence of quality is but little,
but still something; e.g., the child's brain is more pulpy,
richer in water, poorer in fat than that of the adult; the
differences between grey and white matter, the microscopic
peculiarities, are only gradually formed ; the so-called
fibrillation of the brain, Very distinct in the adult, is im-
perceptible in the child's brain; the plainer this fibrilla-
tion becomes, the more decided appears also the mental
activity; the brain of the foetus has very little fat,
consequently little phosphorus, but the fatty matter in-
creases until birth, and after birth tolerably rapidly. In
animals also the brain has, on the average, more fat the
higher they are in the scale, and the smaller the brain
in proportion to the intelligence of the animal, e.g., in
the horse. This fat seems to be very important, for in
METAPHYSIC OF THE UNCONSCIOUS. 69
animals caused to starve the brain does not, like other
organs, lose a part of its fatty matter.—On the number,
depth, and form of the actions of the brain depends, with
equal volume, the size of its surface,—a highly important
factor, which may neutralise a less weight. On the aver-
age, the convolutions and furrows are the more numerous,
deeper, and more complicated the higher the species of
animals or race of man.
It would now be comprehensible if an exception were
formed to the law of the proportion of brain mass and
mental endowment by some few animals, the largest of
the present day, exceeding the human brain in bulk.
Nevertheless, even this apparent deviation only depends
on a preponderance of those parts of the brain which serve
the nervous system of the body as central organs of volun-
tary motion and sensation, and which, partly on account
of the larger number and thickness of the nervous strands
concurring in them, partly on account of the greater
mechanical development of energy needful for the motion
of a greater mass, cannot but show a larger volume. On
the other hand, the anterior parts of the brain, which
especially preside over the functions of thought, in no
animal attain, even in respect of quantity, the same perfec-
tion as in man.
6. Conscious thinking strengthens the brain, as all
activity its organs, and the manifested energy of thought
is always accompanied by consumption of material. As
any muscle, if it is considerably exercised, becomes stronger
and increases in bulk (e.g., the calves of dancers), so, too,
the brain becomes more capable of thinking through exer-
cise of thought, and increases in quality and quantity.
Albers in Bonn relates that he dissected the brains of
several persons who had been exceeding mentally active
for several years; in all he found the brain substance very
firm, the grey matter and the convolutions strikingly
developed. The increase in bulk is proved partly by the
difference in the cultivated and lower ranks, partly by the
7o PHILOSOPHY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS.
increment due to the progressive civilisation of Europe,
both of which certainly only reaching an amount capable
of measurement in virtue of hereditary transmission.
That all thought is connected with the consumption of
the materials of the brain follows from the simple phe-
nomenon of the fatigue of thought, which without it would
be incomprehensible. Mental just as much as bodily
labour not only increases the desire for food in order to re-
place the waste of tissue, but according to Davy's measure-
ments even animal heat also, as is announced by ac-
celerated breathing, which takes place in order to again
decarbonise the blood, whose carbonisation is more freely
induced by the quicker interchange of material.
Further, it is well known that sedentary manual occu-
pations without bodily effort, as tailoring, cobbling, light
manufacturing, are those which produce most dreamers,
religious and political fanatics; whereas severe bodily
manual labour leaves the brain no force for thinking; for
the body, like every machine, has only a certain stock of
vital force at its disposal, and if this is converted into
muscular energy, there remains nothing over for the play
of the cerebral molecules for thinking. Any One can see
this in his own case. No one will be able during a con-
siderable leap to carry further a train of thought once
set a-going, or simultaneously to run a race and to medi-
tate profoundly; even in slow walking one involuntarily
stops when thoughts are concentrated, and not seldom the
outward man falls into complete rigidity in the pro-
foundest meditation. All this points to a consumption of
vital force in thinking, or what is the same thing, a
chemical consumption of material, for this produces living
force.
7. Every disturbance of the integrity of the brain
produces a disturbance of conscious mental activity,
unless the function of one hemisphere is carried on by the
corresponding part of the other hemisphere; for as every
human being chiefly sees, hears, and Smells with one eye,
METAPHYSIC OF THE UNCONSCIOUS. 71
ear, and nostril, and after one side of the sense-organs has
been rendered useless sense-perception still continues by
means of the other side, so every human being chiefly
thinks with one half of the brain, as often the physiognomy,
especially the forehead, allows us to see; and likewise after
one half of the brain has been rendered partially useless,
the other half can undertake the whole function of thought,
as one half of the lungs the whole function of breathing.
This substitution is always with the brain the rarer case,
and only occurs when, in the first place, the morbid or
injured part does not impair the functions of the rest of
the brain, which, however, mostly takes place in one way
or another, e.g., through propagation of pressure, and when,
secondly, the injury is of such a kind that it entirely
abolishes the functions of the particular part, and does
not simply render them abnormal; for then there is de-
veloped just the disturbed mental activity, which renders
valueless the results of the sound functions of the other
parts. If now such disturbed functions of morbid parts
all at once cease, or relieve the rest of the brain of the
pressure which it has hitherto experienced, the normal
function of the other part of the brain again appears as
clear mental activity,+a case which not seldom takes
place, especially in progressive destruction of morbid parts
shortly before death, and then presents the phenomenon,
surprising to the layman, of a last Spiritual transfiguration
after long mental aberration.
In the above-mentioned experiments of Flourens on
fowls with extirpated brains, the animals remained as in
deep sleep, sitting on any spot where they were placed ; all
capability of receiving sense-impressions was completely
extinguished, and they had, therefore, to be supported by
artificial feeding; on the other hand, the reflex movements
proceeding from the spinal cord, e.g., swallowing, flying,
running, were preserved. “If one removes the two hemi-
spheres of a mammal by slices, the mental activity sinks
the lower the farther the loss of substance has proceeded.
72 PHILOSOPHY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS.
When the ventricles of the brain are reached, complete
unconsciousness is wont to occur" (Valentin). “What
stronger proof of the necessary connection of mind and
brain will any one require than that which is afforded by
the knife of the anatomist when he cuts away the soul
piece by piece 2" (Büchner).
Inflammation of the brain causes delusion and madness;
an effusion of blood on the brain, stupefaction and perfect
loss of consciousness; a lasting pressure on the brain (e.g.,
hydrocephalus, children's dropsy), weakness of under-
standing and idiocy; a surcharging, e.g., in the drowning
and the intoxicated, or evacuation of the blood-vessels of
the brain, produces swoons and loss of consciousness; the
Quicker blood-circulation of a simple fever produces the
delirium of fever, which indeed is also a temporary in-
sanity; pressure of blood in intoxication by alcohol intro-
duces the mental disturbance well known as the state of
drunkenness; Opium, haschisch, and other narcotics, severally
another state of intoxication peculiar to it, each of which
is identical with certain states of frenzy.
Parry was able to suppress attacks of madness by a
compression of the cervical artery, and according to
Flemming's experiments the same procedure produces in
the healthy sleep and flitting dreams. Short-necked men
and animals are, on the average, more Sanguine than long-
necked, because, in consequence of less remoteness from
the heart, a more vivid blood-circulation takes place in
their brain. The so-called after-diseases of the brain, in
consequence of more serious injuries or even internal
diseases, also many apoplexies, affect quite specially the
memory, either destroy it entirely or weaken it in general,
or abolish memory for certain categories of knowledge, e.g.,
merely for language, without any paralysis of the organ of
language, the understanding being otherwise clear (apha-
sia), or exclusively for all proper names, or the language
of a particular country, or the events of certain years, or
notions of time (especially with destruction or rendering
METAPHYSIC OF THE UNCONSCIOUS. 73
inactive of particular parts of the brain). Many extremely
striking examples of the foregoing, and of the recovery of
the lost knowledge after easing the part of the brain in ques-
tion, are to be read in Jessen’s “Psychology.”—Stronger
proofs that memory depends on permanent changes of
certain parts of the brain, which on certain stimulations
contribute to the easier reproduction of former vibrations,
can scarcely be desired, than that certain sets of ideas, with
the becoming unserviceable of certain parts of the brain
lose, and with their return to the normal state regain,
the capability of re-emerging into consciousness.
The well-known experience that no class of diseases
depends to So great an extent on transmission as that of
mental diseases, points tolerably clearly by itself to the
circumstance that all mental disturbances depend upon
(direct or indirect) disturbances of brain function ; for
we can well conceive anomalies of the central organs
of the nervous system to be inherited by way of material
generation (just as tuberculosis, scrofula, cancer, and
other diseases), but never immaterial psychical anoma-
lies, of the possibility of which we can frame no conception
at all (comp. vol. i. pp. 164, 165).
8. There is no conscious mental activity outside or be-
hind the cerebral function ; for if, in conformity with the
foregoing, we may assume it proved that every disturb-
ance of the normal functions of the brain disturbs the
activity of consciousness, we may well assume it as certain
that, with the complete abolition of the cerebral function,
the activity of consciousness is likewise actually abolished,
and not merely its manifestation prevented.
Were there not this progressive derangement of consci-
ousness running parallel to the degree of disturbance of
brain function, and passing quite gradually through all
stages of idiocy into the loss of all consciousness (except
that which manifests itself in the reflex instincts of the
spinal cord), the supposition would, of course, be possible
that a withdrawal of consciousness upon itself might take
74 PHILOSOPHY OF THE UNCONSCIO US.
place, in which merely every manifestation of the same
is suppressed; but, as the case stands, this possibility, to
which one can only have recourse at all as a desperate
attempt to save one's prepossessions in favour of a precon-
ceived system, has too low a probability for it to deserve
the notice of an unprejudiced inquirer. In addition to
the parallelism above mentioned, and the circumstance
that the entire apparatus of nature would be super-
fluous for the setting up of consciousness, if conscious-
ness could exist without it, the want of memory tells
against it; for if consciousness during the inactivity of the
brain withdrew upon itself, yet a memory thereof should
remain behind. Others think to evade this circumstance
when they assume a double individual consciousness
(thus also double personality [ſ] in everybody), namely,
one free from the body and a brain-consciousness, whereby
the former is to be unconscious for the latter. Whatever
cogency there is in the argument for this double-sidedness
of the mind refers entirely to the spiritual background of the
brain-consciousness distinguished by us as the Unconcious,
which certainly those who only know conscious mental
activity must hold to be a second consciousness; what,
however, is adduced expressly for the duality of con-
sciousness is very unfortunately chosen. First of all, the
consciousness of the magnetic sleep is claimed as non-
embodied consciousness, which, however, is only differ-
entiated from the consciousness of dreams in the ordinary
sleep by this, that the communication with the external
senses is somewhat less impeded, and the functioning
part of the brain is found in a state of artificial hyperaes-
thesia (over-irritation, over-sensibility), which has for its
consequence that, firstly, the influence of the Unconscious
can more easily find an entrance into consciousness, and
that, secondly, the amplitude of the cerebral vibrations
with equal vividness of the presentation is less than at
other times, and consequently leaves behind fewer impres–
sions of memory, which in most Ordinary dreams un-
METAPHYSIC OF THE UNCONSCIOUS. 75
doubtedly remain after the disappearance of the hyper-
aesthesia of the brain, but are too weak to return into
conscious memory upon the usual stimuli.
Accordingly it is no wonder that the dream-conscious-
ness can just as well include the memories of the wak-
ing state as its own, but not conversely. In general,
the Somnambulistic is so closely allied to the ordinary
dream through the movements of sleep and the different
stages of night-walking and spontaneous Somnambulism,
that it is quite impossible to see in it an unembodied
consciousness. And then also one does not get far
with the consciousness of these states; they are rather
to be called a dreamy semi-consciousness than an en-
hanced consciousness. So the heightened mental per-
formances which are sometimes observed, always only
resembling brief flashes of light, are to be reckoned partly
to the facilitated suggestion of the Unconscious, partly
to cerebral hyperaesthesia, which has for consequence an
easier revival of ideas, as then in such states memories
from early times of apparently long-forgotten things
make their appearance, which were so weak that in the
normal state of the brain no stimuli of sufficient intensity
to arouse them had made their appearance. Thus all is
naturally explained by familiar laws, without that am-
biguous hypothesis being anywhere useful.
A still more unfortunate instance for the disembodied
consciousness is the already mentioned recurrence of con-
sciousness which sometimes occurs before death. Here
again, too, an inner hyperasthesia of the brain co-operates
with outward anaesthesia, which sometimes produces that
transfiguration of the Spirit which has its prophecies and
sharpness of memory in common with the somnambulistic
state, its joyful rest and calm painless cheerfulness in
common with the same nervous state (analgesia) in the
highest degree of torture and certain narcotic intoxications.
The external anaesthesia is there only the natural counter-
poise to the inner hyperasthesia; we find the same like-
76 PHILOSOPHY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS.
wise in the ecstasy of mystic ascetics, in Somnambulists,
after slight administrations of chloroform, and many
other narcotics, e.g., haschisch ; also in several states of
frenzy it is sometimes exhibited. Thus this feeling of
freedom from the body by no means proves a diminution,
but rather a heightening of the irritability of the brain,
and anything but the disembodiment of consciousness.
States entirely similar induce similar phenomenajust before
drowning. Lastly, if the criterion of the disembodied con-
sciousness is maintained to be the abolition of time in the
sequence of thought, this would be equivalent to the
intuitive, timeless, momentary, implicit thinking, which
contradicts all discursive consciousness, as a something
requiring the comparing of explicit ideas. But in the
examples only the more rapid course of thought is specified,
as it occurs in states of the highest cerebral irritation, in
narcotic poisonings, before drowning, and the like, and
has always been familiar as “flight of ideas” in certain
forms of frenzy. What wonder that in an over-stimulated
brain the ideas follow one another much more rapidly
than usual 2 Altogether, so long as the ideas follow one
another in time, they prove the action of matter, through
the vibrations of which time first comes into thought ;
so far, however, as thought is disembodied, it is timeless,
and there with unconscious.
What we have proved in this chapter of the human con-
sciousness, as the highest known to us, in which one might
soonest suppose an independence from the body, holds
of course also of the ganglia of the lower animals, which
are the equivalents of the brain of the Vertebrata ; and it
holds just as much of the special consciousness of every
independent ganglion in man and the higher and lower
animals; and it holds, finally, also of the substances which,
in the lower animals, form the central nervous system ;
and likewise, if a consciousness should be made out in the
plants or inorganic substances, it holds also for this.
As conclusion to this chapter, a passage of Schelling
METAPHYSIC OF THE UNCONSCIO US. 77
may find a fitting place (Werke, i. 3, 497), which sums up
the contents of the same in a few words, although the
assertion in Schelling's mouth has a somewhat different
turn owing to the background of transcendental idealism :
“Not the presentation itself, but rather the consciousness
thereof is conditioned by the affection of the organism ;
and if empirism limits its assertion to the latter, nothing
can be alleged against it.”
( 78 )
III.
THE ORIGIN OF CONSCIOUSINESS.
I. The Becoming-Conscious of the Idea.—Consciousness is
not a quiescent state, but a process—a continual becoming-
conscious. That this mental process, to which conscious-
ness owes its origin, cannot be immediately apprehended
by the consciousness of the observer, is a matter of course;
for that which first produces consciousness must of course
lie behind consciousness, and be inaccessible to conscious
introspection. We can thus only hope to attain to our
goal by an indirect path.
The first condition is that we define the notion of con-
sciousness more sharply than was hitherto necessary.—In
the first place, it must be distinguished from Self-conscious-
ness. My Self-consciousness is the consciousness of my-
self, i.e., the consciousness of the subject of my mental
activity. By subject of my mental activity, however, I
understand that part of the whole cause of my mental
activity which is not external, and accordingly the inner
cause of the same. Self-consciousness is thus only a
special case of the application of consciousness to a defi-
nite object, namely, to the supposed inner cause of mental
activity which is denoted by the name Subject. It is not
the active subject itself which becomes in the act of self-
consciousness the content of consciousness or object of
consciousness, but it is only the idea of the subject, re-
gressively inferred by means of the category of causality
from the activity of the subject, that becomes the object
of consciousness. The active subject itself remains just
METAPHYSIC OF THE UNCONSCIOUS. 79
as inaccessible to consciousness as the external thing in
itself, to which it corresponds as internal thing. All
belief in an immediate self-apprehension of the Ego in the
act of self-consciousness depends on the same self-delusion
as the naive realistic belief in the immediate conscious
apprehension of the thing in itself that exists independ-
ently of consciousness. Consciousness as such is, con-
sequently, according to its own notion, free from con-
scious reference to the subject, in that in and for itself
it refers only to the object (i.e., not to the external corre-
late of the object of ideation or the thing in itself, but
merely to the represented object which results from the
ideational process, and presents itself as content of con-
sciousness), and only becomes self-consciousness by the
idea of the subject becoming accidentally object to it. It
follows from this that no self-consciousness can be con-
ceived without consciousness, but undoubtedly conscious-
ness without self-consciousness. Only for conscious re-
flection as it takes place in the brain of the philosopher,
who stands in thought outside the process and objectively
regards it, but not for the subject of the process itself,
must object and subject be simultaneously given, and in the
same degree. For it lies in the conceptions themselves
that subject and object require each other as correlatives;
but this correlation is patent only to the conscious-
ness of the philosopher, not to the unreflecting feeling
of the natural man, and therefore to the latter in the
intuitive apprehension of the concrete object the relation
of the concept of the object to the concept of the sub-
ject, and especially the latter remains unconscious. (See
more particularly below, pp. 56–58) — Still less than
with self-consciousness has consciousness to do with the
notion of personality, or the identity of all the subjects of
very different mental activities—a notion which is for the
most part comprehended in the word self-consciousness, a
practice which we shall also in future follow for the sake
of simplicity.
But now, what is consciousness 2 Does it merely con-
80 PHILOSOPHY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS.
sist in the form of sensibility, so that the two conceptions
are identical ? No; for the Unconscious also must have
conceived the form of sensibility, otherwise it could not so
aptly have furnished the same. We could, however, also
conceive a consciousness as possible with quite other forms,
if a world were otherwise fashioned, or if, besides and
beyond our space-time world, yet other worlds exist in
other forms of being and consciousness, which contains
no inherent contradiction, since these worlds, however
numerous, could not at all disturb or affect one another,
and the One Unconscious, free of all these forms, would be
the same for all. The form of sensibility can thus only be
regarded as something added to consciousness, accidental,
not as something necessary, essential,—Or shall we say
that consciousness consists in memory ! Memory is cer-
tainly no bad criterion of consciousness, for the more vivid
consciousness is, the stronger must the cerebral vibrations
be, and the stronger these are, the stronger must be the
permanent impression they leave behind in the brain, i.e.,
the easier, and with equal stimulus the stronger, memory
becomes. One easily overlooks, however, the circumstance
that memory is only an indirect consequence of the essence
of consciousness; it cannot possibly, therefore, form its
essence itself. Just as little can the nature of conscious-
ness consist in the possibility of the comparison of ideas, for
this again is only a consequence of the form of sensibility,
especially of time ; and, moreover, consciousness may be
present in the greatest intensity if only a single idea fill
the mind without any object of comparison.
According to all this, we have only one certain support
which must guide us on the right way, namely, the result
of the preceding chapter—the cerebral vibrations, more
generally material movement, as conditio Sine qua non of
consciousness. Also, if we posit as many worlds as we
please with other forms than space and time, yet, if the
parallelism of being and thought is to be retained, some-
thing must exist in them corresponding to matter, and an
activity of the same answering to motion must then like-
METAPHYSIC OF THE UNCONSCIOUS. 8I
wise be condition of consciousness.--Accordingly, if we
suppose the essence of consciousness to be founded in its
material origin, and at the same time remember that the
unconscious mental activity must of necessity be looked
upon as something immaterial, on closer consideration
two cases present themselves: either we adhere to “Will
and Idea” as that which is common to unconscious and
conscious representation, and posit the form of the Un-
conscious as the original, but that of consciousness as a
product of the unconscious mind and the material action
on the same ; or we divide the whole system of mental
activity between Materialism and Spiritualism in such a
way that the conscious spirit belongs to the former, the un-
conscious to the latter, i.e., we assume that the unconscious
mind indeed has a self-dependent existence independent
of matter, but that the conscious mind is an exclusive
product of material processes without any co-operation of
unconscious mind. The alternative, after our previous
inquiries on the co-operation of the Unconscious in the
genesis of all and every conscious mental process, is not
difficult to decide. The essential similarity of conscious
and unconscious mental action alone causes a fundament-
ally different origin for both to appear unthinkable;
at least, this cutting up of the Spiritual system and the
distribution of its separate parts to different fundamental
conceptions would appear more arbitrary than that of
Schopenhauer in respect to Will and Intellect. Add to
this, that we shall, in Chapter V., resolve matter itself
into Will and Idea, and thus prove the essential likeness of
Mind and Matter, that thus Materialism could offer us no
final resting-place. We must, therefore, make our own the
former of the two assumptions.
But now it is at once evident that we again have not
yet grasped the essence of consciousness, for we only
know its factors—on the one side, mind in its original
unconscious state; on the other side, the movement of
the matter which acts upon it. In any case, the Origin of
WOL. II. F
82 PHILOSOPHY OF THE UNCONSCIO US.
consciousness can only be given in the mode and manner
in which ideation comes to its object. Of matter con-
sciousness knows nothing; thus the process producing
consciousness must lie in the mind itself, if also matter
gives the first impulse to it. Material movement deter-
mines the content of representation, but the nature of
consciousness does not lie in this content, for the same
content can indeed, the form of sensibility being abstracted,
be also conceived as unconscious. But now, if conscious-
ness can lie neither in the content, nor also, as we have
seen before, in the sensuous form of the idea, it cannot at
all lie in the idea as such, but must be an accident, which
comes to the idea from elsewhere.
This is the first important result of our investigation,
which certainly, at the first glance, may seem to conflict
with the Ordinary views, but on closer inspection must
soon display its correctness to every observer, and shall
immediately receive fuller elucidation. The common error
is therefore to be ascribed to this, that we, for the most
part, think of consciousness as something inhering only in
the Idea, in that we forget the apperception of Pleasure
and Pain; hence it is taken, without investigation, on
trust and credit, as something immanent in the idea,
especially as long as the unconscious idea is not more
precisely known; and accordingly the question is never
raised, To what then does the idea owe the accident
of consciousness? who assigns it this predicate, as it
were 2 when one would soon observe that it cannot itself
give it to itself. But if the consciousness-producing pro-
cess, in spite of its material occasion, must necessarily be
of a spiritual nature, there remains nothing but the
TVWill.
We have seen in Chapter i. of the present section how
Will and Idea are united in the Unconscious in an in-
separable unity, and shall further see in the final chapters
how the Salvation of the World depends on the emanci-
pation of the intellect from the will, the possibility of
METAPHYSIC OF THE UNCONSCIOUS. 83
which is given in consciousness, and how the whole
world-process is tending solely towards this goal. Con-
Sciousness on the one hand, and the emancipation of the
idea from the will on the other, we have thus already
recognised as standing in the closest connection; we only
need to go one step further and to declare their identity,
and we have found the answer to the riddle in harmony
with the results just obtained. The essence of the con-
Sciousness of the idea is the extrication of the same from
its native soil, the realising will," and the opposition of the
will to this emancipation. We had previously found that
consciousness must be a predicate which the will imparts
to the idea; we can now also assign the content of this
predicate; it is the stupefaction of the will at the existence
of the idea not willed and yet sensibly felt by it. The idea,
namely, as we have seen, has in itself no interest in its
own existence, no endeavour after being; therefore, as long
as there is no consciousness, it is always only called forth
by the will. Thus the mind before the rise of con-
sciousness can have according to its own nature no other
ideas than those which, called into being by the will,
form the content of the will. Then organised matter
suddenly breaks in upon this self-contained peace of the
Unconscious, and in the reaction of sensation occurring
according to necessary law thrusts upon the aston-
* This emancipation must not, tion of a definite volition. This
however, be understood as if the
conscious idea hovered, as it were,
in the pure ether of the ideal out
of all relation to the will. This
is already sufficiently refuted by
the previous expositions of the
present book, and will be directly
still more evident, if it turns out
that the predication of consciousness
issuing from the will itself is, at the
same time, non-satisfaction of the
will, i.e., feeling of pain ; that the
conscious idea consists of sensuous
elementary sensations, and every
such sensuous elementary sensation
is, at the same time, non-satisfac-
only is meant by the emancipation
of the idea from the will, that
the conscious idea, unlike the
unconscious idea, alone possible
as content of a will realising it
(comp. above, p. 58), can and does
exist without its being directly
evoked by a will which possesses
it as a content to be realised ; that
it is idea pre-eminently free from
every effort at self-realisation, but
without prejudice to all other pos-
sible relations to the will, nay, even
without prejudice to the possibility
of afterwards becoming itself again
content of will.
84 PHILOSOPHY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS.
ished individual spirit. an idea which falls upon it as from
the skies, for it finds in itself no will to this idea. For
the first time “the matter of intuition is given to it from
without.” The great revolution has come to pass, the
first step to the world's redemption taken; the idea has
been rent from the will, to confront it in future as an
independent power, in order to bring under subjection to
itself its former lord. This amazement of the will at the
rebellion against its previously acknowledged sway, this
sensation which the interloping idea produces in the Un-
conscious, this is Consciousness.
To speak less figuratively, I conceive the process in the
following way:-There arises the idea impregnated from
without. The unconscious individual mind is amazed at
the unwonted circumstance that an idea exists without
being willed. This amazement cannot proceed from the
will alone, for the will is indeed the absolutely irrational,
thus also too blind for wonderment and surprise; but it
can also not proceed from the representation alone, for
the idea impregnated from without is as it is, and has no
reason to be surprised at itself; all the rest of the ideal
sphere, however, except this one, is, as we know, fast bound
in the Unconscious in inseparable unity with the will.
Consequently, in the first place, the startling can only be
effected by both sides of the unconscious will and idea in
union, i.e., by an in-formed will, or a willed idea ; and
secondly, that which in the startling is idea can only
exist through a will whose content it forms. Accord-
ingly, the matter is only to be conceived in this way, that
the idea impregnated from without acts on the will as
motive, and, moreover, evokes such a will as has for its
content to negate it; for should the now excited will be
related affirmatively to it, there would again be no opposi-
tion and no consciousness. The excited will must thus be
related negatively to it, and the startling is the moment
of origin of this negating will, the sudden, momentary
occurrence of the opposition of the will. But the word
METAPHYSIC OF THE UNCONSCIOUS. 85
“startle” also signifies nothing further in ordinary language,
only that the process in our human experience is an oppo-
sition Suddenly occurring between conscious moments, but
here takes place between unconscious moments.
Lastly, it should be mentioned that the opposing will is
too weak, with respect to the idea impregnated from with-
out, to carry through its negating intention; it is thus an
impotent will to which satisfaction is refused, which, con-
sequently, is linked with pain. Thus every process of the
becoming conscious is, eo ipso, united with a certain displea-
sure. This is, as it were, the vexation of the unconscious
individual mind at the interloping idea which it must
endure and cannot get rid of. It is the bitter medicine
without which there is no healing—a medicine, to be sure,
which at every moment is swallowed in such very small
doses that its bitterness escapes self-perception.—
The peculiar difficulty of this exposition appears to be,
how it is possible that matter in the form of the vibrating
molecule should be able to plunge into the peace of the
unconscious will itself, and that, too, in the double sense;
how it has power, as matter, to affect the mind; and how
the mind is at all able to enter into communication with
anything external 3 This difficulty thus essentially con-
cerns the old problem of the reciprocal influence of body
and mind, which we are here neither able to evade, like
Kant and Fichte, by converting the body into a subjective
appearance of the mind, nor, as Materialism, by converting
the mind into an external appearance resulting from
objective material processes, but which we must boldly
face, since the (unconscious) mind and matter both pass
for real. Already, at the beginning of A. Chap. vii., this
problem met us in reference to the medium whereby the
will realises itself in the body, especially in the muscular
movements; here it is the reverse of the question at which
we have arrived, namely, how the mental idea can be con-
ditioned by the organism. There the question reduced
itself to this: how the will can influence the movements
86 PHILOSOPHY OF THE UNCONSCIO US.
of the central nerve-molecule, here to this, how the move-
ments of the central nerve-molecule can influence the idea?
There we were obliged to assume the realisation of the
unconscious will to be effected by an unconscious one
(A. Chap. ii.); here we must contemplate the origin of the
conscious ided as brought about by unconscious mental
reactions. There the (unconscious) will, directly influ-
encing the molecule, was to be conceived united with
unconscious representation ; here we must suppose, for the
Sake of coming to pass of the sensation, an unconscious
will conceived as essential factor. The direct reciprocation
thus in both cases exists between the forms of movement
of central nerve-molecules on the one hand, and un-
conscious mental functions on the other, in which, as we
quite generally know from A. Chap. iv., an union of un-
conscious will and unconscious idea always takes place.
If, now, matter and unconscious mind were really hete-
rogeneous departments of existence, as the dualistic view
prevailing since Descartes in the consciousness of Euro-
pean culture assumes, it would in fact not be apparent
how the influºus physicus presupposed in these processes
could be possible. Fortunately, however, it will turn out in
C. Chap. v. that matter itself is in its essence nothing else
whatever but unconscious mind, whose representations are
only limited to spatial attraction and repulsion of uniformly
varying intensity, and whose volitional manifestations con-
sist in the realising of this limited ideational province. If
we at this place anticipate this identity of being subse-
quently to be demonstrated, it is immediately comprehen-
sible that the reciprocal action of body and soul can no
longer, as before, be frustrated by the incapability of bridg-
ing the gulf between heterogeneous substances. The psy-
chical will can just as well include in itself in the ideas,
which form its content, spatial relations and change of ex-
isting spatial relations, as can the atomic will of a cerebral
atom. Both can accordingly just as easily collide with
one another and conclude their collision by a compromise
METAPHYSIC OF THE UNCONSCIO US. 87
as two opposing atomic wills. In both cases the weaker
will must in the compromise yield the more the weaker
it is than its opponent. When, e.g., there exists the will
to a special bodily movement, it will, for the most part,
considerably surpass in intensity the single cerebral atomic
wills, which would per se follow only their own mechanical
laws, and ºtherefore usually sufficiently carry its point.
When, on the other hand, such a special will is not aroused
and concentrated, there the cerebral atomic wills excited
by the propagated stimulus of the sense-organs produce a
relatively considerable effect on the psychical will directed
to the organism, i.e., in the compromise resulting from this
conflict of will it will now also, on its part, have a rela-
tively considerable share in concession and accommoda-
tion, only that this share, on its side, is not, as on the side
of matter, presented spatially as objective phenomenon
(which merely arises from the difference to be hereafter
mentioned in C. Chap. xi., that the directions of the will in
the atomic wills exclusively intersect at a single point when
prolonged backwards, and thereby produce the appearance
of a localisation of the seat of force).
As matter, as objective real phenomenon (i.e., independent
of every intelligence intuiting it), could not at all come
to be without two or more atomic wills intersecting and
falling into conflict with one another in their volitional
manifestations, so also the primitive conscious representa-
tion of sensation as subjective ideal phenomenon only be-
comes possible through precisely the same conflict. An
atomic will existing isolated and alone in the world
would have no objective existence at all, because the
possibility would be wanting to it of self-objectivation,
*.e., of bringing its essence to external manifestation. An
isolated and sole-existing incorporeal individual mind
(assumed per impossibile) would, even if it should display
ever so much unconscious will and idea, yet never attain
to the subjective manifestation of consciousness. An ad
libiţwm number of atomic wills and of individual minds,
88 PHILOSOPHY OF THE UNCONSCIO US.
which were, however, isolated from one another, and in-
capable of thrusting against one another and clashing with
their wills, would be altogether in the same position as
one existing solitary and alone. Only when the radiating
will meets with a resistance by which it is checked or
broken can it lead to objective manifestation of existence,
to the subjective phenomenon of consciousness. Such a
resistance it can, however, only find in its like, in another
will with which it has a certain common sphere of action,
whilst the tendency and goal of the latter is, in a certain
sense, opposed to its own. The common sphere of action
makes contact possible; the opposite tendency and goal
condition the collision in encounter, which finds its Solw-
tion in the compromise determined by the content of
both. The yielding of each of the colliding wills is now,
however, no longer willed by it, but forced, pressed upon
it by the other will, which is for it mainly only resistance,
and the compromise as result does not correspond to the
goal of volition on either side, so that a contrast between
the willed and attained arises, just as between the centri-
fugal function, as it were, of the volition itself and the
centripetal rebound on collision. Now, the breaking of
the will on the resistance of a foreign will crossing it, or
the centripetal rebound, is sensation, and, moreover, as
non-Satisfaction of the will, pain-sensation. As non-
satisfaction of a definite will, i.e., one filled with a definite
ideational content, sensation is also qualitatively determined,
Ż.e., sensation characterised by a (here unconscious) idea-
tional content. (Comp. B. Chap. iii.) As qualitatively
definite sensation, however, it is element of the conscious
idea, and in so far it may even be described as elementary
conscious representation. The predicate of consciousness
enters into the Sensation just through the exhibited con-
trast, and this contradiction between volition and impres-
Sion of the resistance answers to what I have above named
by an expression transferred from the conscious mental
life to the unconscious, the startling of the will at the
METAPHYSIC OF THE UNCONSCIO U.S. 89
$ntruding idea not willed by itself. Perhaps the more
general mode of treatment here entered upon may contri-
bute to the comprehension of the matter, and allow it to
be more clearly perceived that the figures there employed
were, in fact, only employed as figures.
The difficulty which occasioned this digression is, how-
ever, not yet exhausted by the foregoing. In spite of the
admitted essential identity of mind and matter, the second
question always remains open—how the psychical indi-
vidual will can at all come in contact with any other will
than, in fact, with the atomic will of the brain, since, e.g.,
it is indeed not able decidedly to touch and to collide with
other psychical individual wills 2 We must here, too,
anticipate and acknowledge the future course of the in-
quiry—that the possibility of such a contact and collision
would not be visible if the individual mind on the one
hand and the atoms of matter on the other were discrete
substances. It only becomes comprehensible on the assump-
tion that they are merely different functions of one and
the same essence, and, moreover, of an unconscious
essence; for were it conscious, there would be the common
consciousness in all functions, and through the conflict
anticipated by the common consciousness, and brought to
conclusion in it, as it were, it could no more attain to
special consciousness, whereas in the root of one uncon-
scious essence the separated functions have just only the
necessary common bond for reciprocal influence, but yet
still room enough for the establishment of separated con-
sciousnesses, as it were, on their broken points or jolted
peripheral endings. Now it is true a reciprocal influence
in general is made possible through the common meta-
physical root of the substance, but the latter does not of
itself suffice to introduce this coincidence of certain func-
tions at their separated peripheral ends. For that there
is also necessary, as a second condition, that the ideational
contents of these wills should contain in themselves the
common sphere of their contact, just as well as the oppo-
90 PHILOSOPHY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS.
site tendency; and this second condition is simply not ful-
filled between the different individual minds, but doubtless
between the atomic wills, which, in their ideal content,
contain also the spatiality of their relations (creating in its
realisation the one objective space). This is the metaphy-
sical reason why minds only communicate through their
bodies. The bodies move and act in the one objective space
as in their common sphere in which they may collide;
minds, however, have neither a direct relation to this general
space of matter (for the subjective consciousness-space
is, for every mind, a different one, unapproachably self-
enclosed), nor do they possess another analogous sphere of
direct spiritual encounter, as the bodies (or rather their
atoms) possess them in space.
The conditions of a mutual sphere for the contact of
different wills are, however, also given between the mind
and the body connected with it. In C. Chap. ix, namely,
we shall see that the individual mind or the soul of a
body is nothing more than the sum of the functions of the
All-one Unconscious directed to this corporeal Organism.
This organism, i.e., this then and there ordered aggregate
of atoms, is thus the goal expressly included in the un-
conscious ideal content of the total will-functions of this
individual mind. There cannot be in this individual mind
a single function which does not unconsciously refer to
this organism, and which does not include even quite
definite parts of this organism or quite definite spatial
changes of position of such parts in its ideal content (say,
e.g., the excitation of certain cerebral vibrations of a meta-
physical thought). Each individual mind accordingly
possesses the possibility of colliding with the atomic wills
of its organism, but only with those of its own, not with
those of any other, because its organism alone is included,
conformably to its spatial relations, in the (unconscious)
content of representation of its functions, but not any
other. Every function of the All-One Unconscious, namely,
which is related to another organism, truly belongs to the
METAPHYSIC OF THE UNCONSCIOUS. 9I
sum of the functions directed to this other organism,
i.e., to its soul or individual mind.”—We hardly need
remind the reader that the possibility of a collision of
wills for both kinds of reciprocation between body and
mind holds good not merely for that where the mind is
the preponderating determining part of the compromise,
but also where it is the prevailingly yielding or receptive
part, i.e., not merely for the influence of the will on the
body, but also for the arousing of ideas by means of
impressions of sense and brain. If the function of the
individual mind rightly affects the atomic wills of the
brain, conversely also, as a matter of course, must the
atomic wills of the brain just as correctly affect this same
individual mind.
Through these elucidations, in part forestalling the con-
tents of subsequent chapters, our exposition of the origin
of consciousness may have received illumination, and this
may serve as an excuse for the digression from the regular
course of the inquiry. Hints, intelligible to a certain
degree, of such an origin of consciousness from an opposi-
tion of different moments in the Unconscious, I have only
found in Jacob Böhme and Schelling. The former says
(of the divine contemplation, c. i. 8): “Nothing can
become manifest to itself without repugnance; for if it
has nothing to oppose it, it is ever going out of itself,
and does not return to itself; but as it does not return to
itself, as to that whence it originally proceeded, it knows
nothing of its primitive state.” Similarly Schelling
says (Werke, i. 3, p. 576): “If, however, the Absolute is
to appear to itself, it must on its objective side be depen-
dent on something else, on Something foreign. But this
dependence does not belong to the Absolute itself, but
merely to its appearance.”
The contrast between Will and Idea is still more height-
* Through this consequence of the the idea or representation of the
doctrine of the Unconscious, Spi- body, receives for the first time a
noza's proposition, that the soul is comprehensible signification,
92 PHILOSOPHY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS.
ened by the idea not being directly given through material
movement, but only through the uniform reaction of the
wnconscious psychical on this action. It accordingly follows,
that the unconscious individual mind must answer with
an activity (of sensation) which is, as it were, peripherally
thrust upon it through the impression produced on its
volition by a foreign manifestation of will. In this
manner chiefly arise the simple qualities of sense-impres-
sions, as sound, colour, taste, &c., from whose mutual
relations all sensuous perception is built up, from which
again, by reproduction of the cerebral vibrations, memo-
ries, and by partial dropping out of the content of the latter
abstract conceptions arise. In all cases of conscious
thought we have to do with cerebral vibrations, which
affect the individual mind and compel to uniform reac-
tion; in all cases the sensible qualities are the results of this
reaction, and of these elements the total conscious pre-
sented world is composed. If, now, these elements always
excite the process which produces consciousness, and
thereby become conscious, it will not surprise us that also
the combinations of these elements takes part in conscious-
ness, although the kind of combination is often produced
by the will itself.
Hereby the apparent contradiction is explained that
ideas which are evoked by the will, consequently not
opposed to this will, may yet become conscious because
they just consist of elements which have become ideas
through extorted reactions of the Unconscious. The will,
namely, can only evoke a conscious idea through the par-
ticular memory being aroused, i.e., by former cerebral
vibrations being reproduced. Before the conscious idea
is there, it must be contained as content in the uncon-
scious will, certainly in non-sensuous form, otherwise the
will indeed would not be able to excite this idea. Further,
as means to this end, the point of attack in the brain must
be unconsciously represented, whence the particular vibra-
tions of memory may be excited and the stimulation of
METAPHYSIC OF THE UNCONSCIO U.S. 93
the same be willed. Further, however, even the uncon-
scious will does not go, for it can only produce the
idea in the sensuous form as reaction on these vibra-
tions; now occur the vibrations and the reaction of the
Unconscious happens, compelled, as ever, by a lawful
reaction, and there with the consciousness of the represen-
tation is also given. The like holds good also of the co-
operation of the Unconscious in the coming to pass of
sensuous perception, as before taken note of. It also
holds good when the conscious representation becomes
content of a will, which is then termed conscious will; for
the conscious representation must previously be present
in conscious form before the will can grasp it in this form
and make it its content. But if the idea once possesses the
conscious form, it does not lose the same again, on account
of the will combining with it, because its elements, which,
as long as it exists, must reproduce themselves ever and
ever anew, always do this in conscious form.
2. The Becoming Conscious of Pain and Pleasure.—If
we have always hitherto spoken of the becoming conscious
of the Idea, it was not thereby meant that the idea is
the sole object of consciousness. The exclusive reason for
this limitation was rather the endeavour not to make
more difficult the penetration into this difficult province
by prematurely increasing the objects and complexity of
the points of view. This is the sole reason why we have,
instead of speaking of the general “object of the becoming
conscious,” treated the problem from its especially char-
acteristic side. But now, if the principle thus gained of
the origin of consciousness is to be held correct, it must be
adapted to every possible content of the becoming con-
scious. There must be logically deducible from it what
elements can enter into consciousness, what not, in that
they are brought one after another within the formula. This
we will now do with Pain, Pleasure, and Will, which re-
main along with the Idea as possible objects of conscious-
ness. What we thus a priori derive as consequences of
94 PHILOSOPHY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS.
Our principle must prove to be correct a posteriori in the
face of experience. In this a posteriori confirmation we
have, then, the controlling test of the principle that
everything which experience offers us as a something to be
explained also actually flows from it, whilst we gained the
principle itself originally a priori by elimination of the
incorrect assumptions from all possible ones, when finally
Only one remained to us.
If, after the principle is thus justified a priori and a
posteriori, it may possibly be desired that I should show how
and in what way there results from the process indicated
just that which we know in inner experience as con-
sciousness, this demand would be just as improper as one
made upon the physicist to show how from the aerial
waves and the arrangement of our ear that results which
in inner experience we know as sound. The physicist
only shows us, and can only show, that that which is
subjectively felt as sound consists, objectively regarded, in
a process which is compounded of such and such vibra-
tions. In the same way I can only show that that which
we know in subjective apprehension as consciousness,
objectively regarded is a process, which is built up in
such and such a way out of such and such terms and factors.
To experience more I hold to be impossible, and therefore
to ask for more improper; for in order to understand the
How of the transmutation of the objective process into sub-
jective sensation, one would be obliged to adopt a third
point of view, which is neither subjective nor objective,
or, what is the same thing, is both at once. This stand-
point, however, the Unconscious alone possesses, whereas
consciousness is just the division into Subject and object.
Peeling can be pleasure or pain, Satisfaction or non-
satisfaction of the will; all else, as shown in B. Chap.
iii., are more precise determinations, which belong to the
department of ideation. The non-Satisfaction of the will
must always become conscious, for the will can never
will its own non-Satisfaction; consequently non-satisfaction
METAPHYSIC OF THE UNCONSCIO US. 95
must be thrust on it from without ; consequently the condi-
tion of the origin of consciousness is fulfilled in the start-
ling of the will at something not issuing from itself, and
yet really existing and making itself felt, the partial com-
pulsion to yield on the collision with another will, and
the contrast of this rebound with the goal striven after ;
and experience corresponds to it entirely, in that nothing
speaks more emphatically to consciousness than pain—
pain conceived also as freed from the nearer determinations
belonging to the idea.
The feeling of pleasure or the satisfaction of the will
cannot be conscious in and for itself, for while the will
realises its content, and thereby brings on its own satis-
faction, nothing takes place which could come into opposi-
tion with the will; and since all compulsion from without
is wanting, and the will only gives place to its own con-
sequences, it can arrive at no consciousness. Otherwise
does the matter appear when a consciousness has already
established itself, which collects and compares observations
and eaſperiences. This soon learns from the many non-
satisfactions to know the resistances which oppose every
will in the external world, as well as the easternal conditions
which are necessary if the realisation of the will is to
succeed. As soon as it is compelled to acknowledge these
external conditions of success, and therewith Satisfaction
as something partially or wholly conditioned from with-
out, consciousness appertains to pleasure also.--All this is
thoroughly confirmed by experience.
One sees especially in infants that they give very
expressive signs of pain for weeks before the slightest
trace of pleasure is legible in their countenances and
gestures. Clear confirmation is afforded by the case of
pampered children, who are wont always to get their way,
and who accordingly do not know what to make of it when
for once their wish is not complied with. These children
have, in fact, as good as no enjoyment at all from the
satisfaction of their desires; however, the latter remain, for
96 PHILOSOPHY OF THE UNCONSCIO US.
the most part, unconscious. About the only enjoyment
they have is from satisfaction of the senses (eating of
sweetmeats), because the solicitude of the environment
cannot here save them disagreeable comparisons. How
much, however, our assertion fits even the case of adults,
doubtless every observer of his race will admit; for any
kind of satisfaction which permanently recurs without
interruption by non-Satisfaction ceases to be a conscious
satisfaction, i.e., a conscious enjoyment, as soon as one
begins to think: it must be so indeed, and cannot be at
all otherwise. On the other hand, even a slight Satisfac-
tion enters into consciousness as pleasure, the more
vividly the more distinctly it is seen that we owe it to
external circumstances, because, in spite of its being
always willed, one has rarely been able to procure it.
3. The Unconsciousness of the Will.—Now as concerns
the Will itself, we have hitherto called it conscious when
it has a conscious, unconscious, when it has an unconscious
idea for its content. It is, however, easy to see that this
is only a figurative expression, since it only refers to the
content of the will; but the will itself can never become
conscious, because it can never contradict itself. There
may very well be several desires at variance with one
another, but volition at any moment is in truth only the
resultant of all the simultaneous desires, consequently can
always be only conformable to itself. If now conscious-
ness is an accident which the will bestows upon that of
which it is compelled to recognise not itself, but some-
thing foreign as its cause, in short, what enters into
opposition with it, the will can never impart consciousness
to itself, because here the thing to be compared and the
standard of comparison are one and the same; they can
never be different or at all at variance with one another.
The will also never gets so far as to recognise something
else as its cause; rather the appearance of its spontaneity
is indestructible, since it is the primal actuality, and all
that lies behind it potential, that is, unreal. Whilst dis-
METAPHYSIC OF THE UNCONSCIO US. 97
pleasure, then, must always become conscious, and pleasure
can become so under certain circumstances, the will is said
never to be able to become conscious. This latter result per-
haps appears unexpected, yet experience fully confirms it.
We have seen in A. Chap. vii. that only a conscious
idea is able to excite the unconscious will to any move-
ment or action, even without a motive proper being con-
tained in the idea. But if the idea contains a motive
at all, a proper ground of excitement, the excitation of the
unconscious desire must certainly follow. If, now, the
man has the conscious idea of a movement, and thereupon
sees himself execute this movement with the certainty of
not being necessitated from outside, he instinctively con-
cludes that the cause of the movement lies in himself, and
this inner unknown cause of movement he calls will.
That the conception thus attained only rests on causality
just as little detracts from the instinctive apprehension of
its reality, as it detracts from that of the external objects,
that we possess them only as unknown external causes of
our sense-impressions, and as it detracts from the subject
of ideation or the intellectual ego that we know it only
as unknown internal cause of ideation. The one as the
other we fancy we directly apprehend because we do not
attain it by conscious reflection, but through unconscious
processes, and philosophic contemplation must first teach
us that all these notions are for us intangible essences,
whose only hold on our thought lies in their causality,
without this knowledge being detrimental to the imme-
diate instinctive certainty of their direct possession.
In the same way a writer thinks he has the feeling
directly in the point of the pen itself, whilst the simplest
consideration teaches him that he has it only in his
fingers, and unconsciously applies the principle of causa-
lity without being able to avoid the unconscious illusion
of his tactile Sense, only that here the correction suc-
ceeds much sooner than in those deeply rooted psycho-
logical illusions.
WOL. II. G
98 PHILOSOPHY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS.
When a man has once in the way indicated grasped the
conception of will (albeit by a process of unconscious
thinking), he very soon observes that ordinary ideas rarely
draw after them phenomena of motion, but always such as
contain the feeling of a pleasure or displeasure, and that,
too, according as actions are persistent and in themselves
attractive, or repellent. From this he becomes acquainted
empirically with the law of motivation, according to which
each representation of pleasure excites positive desire, each
idea of displeasure negative or repellent desire. This law
is exceptionless, and all instances to the contrary rest on
an error; e.g., when a past enjoyment is represented, and
yet not again desired or wished over again, it follows from
that that it would now no more be enjoyment. If other
opposed desires, which simultaneously arise, suppress the
emergence of this desire, so much force is consumed in the
suppression as the desire would have had had it arisen.
When, now, the man has perceived this law of motivation
to be exceptionless, he knows that every time a desire is
united with the representation of a feeling of pleasure or
displeasure, and supposing other desires or external cir-
cumstances not to hinder the execution of the correspond-
ing movement, he sees the latter ensue. This process,
again, goes on unconsciously, and whereas the man before
only possessed the notion of volition as cause of an effect,
he has it now as effect of a cause. With that, however,
he has the possibility of perceiving it also then in himself,
if its effect, the execution, is prevented by other desires or
external circumstances.
Further, the man sees a gradual proportion between the
sensuous vividness of the presentation and the magnitude
of the presented pleasure and displeasure, on the one hand,
and the violence of the movements, the energy of the action,
the duration of the attempts at action, on the other, and
concludes therefrom that also the link intermediate be-
tween the two ends of the causal chain must stand in a
proportional relation to each of them; hereby he obtains a
METAPHYSIC OF THE UNCONSCIOUS. 99
measure of the intensity of the will. —The points mentioned
would certainly suffice for mediate knowledge and the
appearance of a direct cognition of the will; however, they
are still somewhat of an external nature, and the illusion
becomes still much greater through other accompanying
circumstances. It is, namely, only in the very rarest cases
that the desire can obtain satisfaction at the very moment
of its arising; there always elapses a shorter or longer time
before realisation takes place, and so long lasts a feeling of
'non-Satisfaction, of unpleasant eaſpectation and deprivation
(tension, impatience, longing, yearning), certainly for the
most part sweetened by hope, which either is prolonged until
the gradual disappearance of the desire, or induces by
a perception of impossibility and destruction of hope the
full non-Satisfaction and displeasure (with an undiminished
persisting violent desire despair), or finally passes into
satisfaction and pleasure. These feelings are the constant
attendants or successors of desire, and can only arise
through it. They also enter into consciousness, and are
here the proper and most immediate representatives of the
desire, which it is true one can again only properly appre-
hend as cause of the same, but which one thinks to grasp
immediately through the above-mentioned illusion. Just
as desire in general is perceived in the feelings spoken of,
so every special kind of desire is perceived through the
special and peculiar kind of the feelings accompanying it.
The constant connection of the two hereby becomes visible,
that the special kind of desire is indeed already deter-
mined for consciousness by the kind of motive and the
kind of ensuing actions. Yet the possibility of error still
remains open, especially in the cases where the accom-
panying feelings (longing and hope in general) are the sole
signs of the presence of the will. Then the mistake easily
occurs of seeking the desire giving rise to these feelings in
other well-known desires, whereas the same are entirely
guiltless thereof.
This case, for example, occurs in the instincts, most
I OO PHILOSOPHY OF THE UNCONSCIO US.
distinctly in love, where the willing of the metaphysical
end is unknown to the lover, who, on this account, erro-
neously lays the extravagant longing and hope merely to
the account of the willed means (intercourse with this par-
ticular individual), and accordingly imagines a quite special
enjoyment in intercourse with such individual, and is then
so disagreeably smitten with disillusion. This is not con-
tradicted by the fact that there may notwithstanding be
consummate bliss, because the unconscious clairvoyance
of the metaphysical goal begets an extravagant longing,
which again awakens an extravagant hope of an extrava-
gant enjoyment, whose essence, however, consciousness is
unable to express, and which is never realised. Here, too,
the saying holds: “Hope was thy allotted portion.”
Those concomitant feelings of desires are generally of
a highly peculiar and characteristic nature, conditioned
at the same time, for the most part, by bodily feelings
which are reflectorially called forth in adjoining parts of
the body by the respective cerebral affections. Think of
anger and its rush of blood; of fear and terror, with their
arrest of the circulation, difficulty of breathing, and trem-
bling; the suppressed sob, vexation, and grief, with their
life-corroding influences; impotent rage, with its choking
and bursting sensations; affection, with its tears and its re-
laxed breast and stomach; longing, with its consuming woe:
sensuous love, with its gushing glow ; Vanity, with its heart-
leapings; effort at thought and strained reflection or con-
sidering, with its peculiar reflex feelings of tension at
different parts of the scalp, according to the part of the
brain subjected to strain; defiance, inflexible obstinacy, and
fixed resolution, with their peculiar muscular contrac-
tions; disgust, with its anti-peristaltic movements of the
fauces and stomach, &c., &c.
How much the character of these feelings is dependent
on such bodily admixtures will be easily granted by every
one. How much it is simultaneously conditioned by
accompanying unconscious representation has been dis-
META PHYSIC OF THE UNCONSCIO US. IOI
cussed at the end of Chap. iii. B-If, now, the man thinks
to apprehend the will directly in consciousness in three
ways (1) from its cause, the motive; (2) from its accom-
panying and succeeding feelings; and (3) from its effect,
the act; and all the time (4) has the content or object of the
will as representation actually in consciousness, it is no
wonder that the illusion of being immediately conscious
of the will itself is very tenacious and firmly fixed by
long habit, so that it allows the scientific view of the
eternal unconsciousness of the will itself only with diffi-
culty to make way and to obtain a firm footing in the mind.
But let any one only once carefully test himself with several
instances, and my assertion will be found confirmed. If
any one at first believes himself conscious of the will
itself, he soon observes, on closer examination, that he
is only conscious of the conceptual representation. “I will,”
and at the same time of the idea which forms the con-
tent of the will; and if he pursues the investigation, he
finds that the ideal presentation “I will” has always
simultaneously arisen in one of the stated three ways or
in several, and nothing more is found in consciousness,
even after the most searching examination. One thing,
however, is still very remarkable, viz., if (as happens to
everybody) we are vexed that our previous opinion has to
be abandoned, and one says to oneself, “Still I can will
what and when I will, and know that I can will, and
now, e.g., I do will,” yet that which is taken for direct
perception of the will is nothing else but reflex bodily
feelings vaguely localised, and, indeed, feelings of defi-
ance, obstimacy, or even merely of decided firm resolve.
Here, then, arises the semblance of consciousness of the
will itself in the second mode, from accompanying feel-
ings. This, too, will be found verified certainly only when
one gives oneself the trouble to make trial of it.
Finally, however, I have to mention yet one last deci-
sive reason for the unconsciousness of all will, which quite
directly decides the question. Every man knows what he
I O2 PHILOSOPHY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS.
wills only 80 far as he possesses the knowledge of his own
character and of the psychological laws, the sequence of
motive and desire, feeling and desire, and the strength of
different desires, and can from these calculate beforehand
the result of their struggle, or their resultant, the will.
Entirely to fulfil this requirement is the ideal of wisdom,
for only the ideally wise man always knows what he wills;
all other men, however, know the less what they will the
less they are accustomed to study themselves and the
psychological laws, to keep their judgment always free
from disturbance by passion, and, in a word, to make
conscious reason (as suggested in Chap. xi. B.) the motive of
their life. Therefore a man knows the less what he wills
the more he abandons himself to the Unconscious, the
inspiration of feeling. Children and women rarely know
it, and only in the simplest cases; animals probably still
more rarely. Were knowledge of the will not an in-
direct constructive calculation, but a direct conscious
apprehension, as in pleasure, displeasure, and representa-
tion, it would be absolutely incomprehensible how it
should so frequently come to pass that we firmly believe
we have willed one thing but are taught by the act that
we have willed another. (Comp. vol. i. pp. 252 and 262.)
In the case of something directly entering into conscious-
ness, e.g., pain, there can be no room for error; that of
which we have immediate self-apprehension truly exists,
for we apprehend it immediately in its own nature.
Since the will in and of itself is under all circumstances
unconscious, it is now also comprehensible that, for the be-
coming conscious of pleasure or displeasure, the will itself
is precisely similarly circumstanced, whether it is united
with a conscious or an unconscious representation. For the
becoming conscious of displeasure, which indeed is already
in opposition with will in such and such a manner, it is
obviously indifferent whether the idea which forms the
content of will is conscious or unconscious; at the most,
it might appear of importance for the becoming conscious
METAPHYSIC OF THE UNCONSCIOUS. IO3
of pleasure. If the content of the will is a conscious repre-
Sentation, the possibility of the becoming conscious of its
Satisfaction is clear without more ado; perhaps also, if it
is an unconscious idea, this possibility exists with the help
of accompanying feelings and perceptions. If, namely, in
ºn cases these accompanying feelings and perceptions have
had for their consequence m times a displeasure and n—m.
times none, one instinctively concludes that these feelings
and perceptions may be the work of an unconscious will
which was not satisfied m times, i.e., produced pain, whence
it immediately follows that it must be satisfied n—m.
times. Thus this satisfaction may, in consequence of the
contrast, also attain to consciousness with a will whose
content always remains unconscious, if it is only accom-
panied by regularly recurring marks, which, in place of
the idea which forms its content, can figure as represen-
tative of the inherently eternally unconscious will. This
must be added as Supplementary to Chap. iii. B., where
these points could not be weighed.
The insight thus obtained of the unconsciousness of the
will in itself throws an interesting light on ever-recurring
endeavours in the history of philosophy to resolve will
into idea; I merely name the most prominent—Spinoza,
and in recent times Herbart and his school with the most
detailed attempt in this respect. This endeavour, which
in less degree is manifested also by Hegel, would be utterly
inexplicable in the case of such great thinkers, if the will,
which in its essence is entirely heterogeneous to the idea,
were something immediately given in consciousness; they
become, however, through the circumstance that one
never finds in consciousness the will itself, but always only
the idea of the will, not only explicable, but authorised and
demanded for the eacclusively conscious standpoint, since the
will has actual existence only in the sphere of the Uncon-
scious. It is, therefore, also characteristic that just the
most dilettante of all considerable philosophers, Schopen-
hauer, disregarding this requirement of strict thought,
IO4 PHILOSOPHY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS.
claims to have found the will as core of his own being
directly in consciousness. As the philosophising of com-
mon sense thinks to grasps things immediately in external
perception, just as dogmatically did Schopenhauer imagine
himself to have apprehended the will immediately in inner
experience. Criticism annihilates the one as the other
dogmatic semblance of instinct, but science gives again to
cognition, as conscious mediate possession, what it has
destroyed of blind, immediate instinctive faith.
4. Consciousness has no degrees.—Our principle has yet
to stand one final test. If, namely, our assumption is
correct, that consciousness is a phenomenon the essence
of which consists in the opposition of the will to some-
thing not proceeding from it and yet sensibly present, that
thus only those elements of ideation or feeling can become
conscious which light upon a will found in opposition
with them, i.e., on a will which does not will or negates
them, it follows from this that consciousness can as little
as naught or negation have differences of degrees. The
question is one of a pure alternative: “Becoming conscious
or remaining unconscious 2 ” If the will comports itself
affirmatively, the latter occurs; if it is negatively related,
the former. There is no stronger or weaker in negation,
for negation is a positive, not a comparative conception.
There may, indeed, be a partial and complete negation, but
this is not difference in the negation, but in the negated
object, and can, therefore, establish no difference of degree in
negation itself. A partial negation must in our case have
for its consequence the becoming conscious of the one and
the remaining unconscious of the other part, but in no
case could there emerge a difference of degree in conscious-
ness as such.
What becomes conscious, the object or the content of
consciousness, may then show a more or less; but con-
sciousness itself can only be or not be, never be more or
less. Undoubtedly the will also, which by its negating
of the object posits the becoming conscious of the same,
METAPHYSIC OF THE UNCONSCIO US. IO 5
may exhibit difference of degrees, be stronger or weaker;
but the strength of this will, presupposing that it at all
lies above the threshold, has no influence at all on the
alternative, “becoming conscious or not,” only whether its
content be affirmatively or negatively related to the object
of the becoming conscious affords ground for a decision.
Hence no difference in the degree of consciousness can
be derived from the strength of the opposing will; either
something becomes conscious or does not become conscious;
in no case can it become more or less conscious. I will
try to make this state of the case still clearer by an
example in the matter of willing.
If I will to give something to a beggar, I certainly will
more if I give him a half-crown than if I give him a
penny; this is the more or less of content, which does
not at all touch the question of the intensity of will as
such, for the will itself may, in both cases, be equally
strong, whether I intend to present him with half-a-
crown or a penny. On the other hand, with the same
content the will may have very different strength ; e.g.,
if of two men each wills to give the beggar a penny, the
one may possibly be dissuaded from so doing by a very
slight cause, whereas the will of the other overcomes
strong counter-motives. This is the degree of difference
of the will as such. The degree of difference of the
content we have in consciousness also ; the graduated
difference of consciousness as such must, on the other
hand, be wanting according to the a priori derivation
from our principle; should this a priori consequence of
the same not be confirmed by experience, this would be
an indirect attack on the principle itself.
What especially stands in the way of the empirical
recognition of that proposition is the confusion of the
motion consciousness with two other allied notions, first
attention, secondly self-consciousness.-Attention we have
already repeatedly (vol. i. pp. I 3 I-I32, 174–175, also
275,276) seen to be a nerve-current, produced both reflec-
Ioé PHILOSOPHY OF THE UN CONSCIO US.
torially as well as voluntarily, which runs its course in
sensory nerve-fibres from centre to periphery, and serves
the purpose of heightening the conductivity of nerves,
especially for weak stimuli and weak differences of
stimuli. Attention accordingly consists of material
nervous vibrations. Inasmuch as these run from centre
to periphery, it is inevitable that they should, even with-
out giving rise to perception, be reflected from periphery
to centre. Moreover, through attention a number of
muscles are contracted for every sensory sphere, in order
to facilitate the reception of the perception by the organ ;
and lastly, certain other muscles, especially muscles of
the scalp, are reflexively contracted. These three move-
ments agree in this, in bringing sensations to the organ of
consciousness by means of material vibrations, i.e., attem-
tion as such is an object of perception, and consequently of
consciousness. One may be easily convinced of this if
in the dead of night one has occasion to listen atten-
tively for a signal, or to look towards the horizon to see
whether a rocket will be sent up. If for pure ideation
certainly also muscular tension of the sense-organ is
absent, yet the reflex tension of the muscle of the scalp
remains (whence the word “cracking one's brain”), and the
effect of the nervous vibrations as such. Wherefore also
that attention is distinctly felt which is not directed
to an external sense, but merely to the inner ideational
life of the brain, as any one may easily observe in himself
when he is searching for a word that has escaped him.
Attention enhances the irritability of the parts which
it affects, and thereby facilitates both the revival of
former ideas and also the perception of weak stimuli and
differential stimuli. We cannot definitely assert that it
magnifies the amplitude of the vibrations, because the
intensity of a Sensation (e.g., intensity of sound) is not
perceptibly increased by enhancement of attention. Yet
this also, as I hold to be extremely probable, may be
merely apparent, in that the increase of intensity has
METAPHYSIC OF THE UNCONSCIO US. Io'7
already begun unconsciously to abate, just as the mag-
nifying of an object by nearer approach is not easily
perceived, and the comparison of two circular openings
equidistant from the eye is not essentially easier than
that of two unequal ones at a greater distance.—Be that,
however, as it may, this much is certain, that we have a
double estimate in every sensation, both of the strength
of the sensation, so far as it depends on the stimulus,
and also of the degree of the applied attention; that thus
an element is added to perception through the cerebral
vibrations of attention, which makes the total perception
richer and more comprehensive (quite apart from the
circumstance that all sensations cannot at all reach the
brain and its consciousness without a certain degree of
reflex attention). The like holds good, however, for mere
cerebral ideas, and in still greater degree.
An idea emerging from memory is also enriched and
heightened by attention. It is certainly not changed in
its general contents, but whereas in an idea for which
one is inattentive everything is misty and dissolving, pale
and colourless, indiscernible as if at a great distance, the
outlines, colours, and details become the more defined,
vivid, and closer the higher the degree of attention. The
reason of this is, that all our ideas rest on sense-impres–
sions, and only in these do the pale, spectral motions become
clothed with flesh and blood, but that the sensuous repre-
sentations become so much the more plastic and vivid, the
larger is the part of the special nerve of sense and organ
of sense which is drawn into sympathy, the wider the repre-
sentation is peripherally projected outside. In sense-per-
ception there thus occurs by the increase of attention
an enrichment of content only so far as, by means of the
enhanced conductivity, also slighter concomitant details
reach the cerebral consciousness, and the perception of
the vibrations of attention themselves becomes more
intense. In the idea of memory, however, beside these
moments there is also added the enhancement of sen-
Suous vividness and definition,
Io8 PHILOSOPHY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS.
To this must in all cases be added the hitherto un-
mentioned prevention of disturbance by other perceptions,
which is of the highest importance. Usually, namely,
there exists in the waking state a certain sense of atten-
tion in the whole sensitive nervous system, which
naturally is feeble for any single point of the same, and
is only enhanced reflexively in this direction by a more
strongly acting stimulus. Accordingly there usually
arises a great division and distraction of attention, so that
consciousness finds in itself an infinitely mixed content
of merely weak perceptions. But if now there takes
place a severe strain of attention in a particular direc-
tion, thus, e.g., on a sense or the brain only, this, with
the limited sum of energy of the organism, can only
happen at the expense of attention in all other direc-
tions, and therefore all partial enhanced attention is a
concentration of the same, which forms a contrast to the
distraction. Instead of the infinitely numerous weak
perceptions, consciousness now finds as its content one
energetic idea, whilst the sum of all other perceptions is
reduced to a minimum. One sees that the content has
essentially changed so much that it perfectly suffices
for the explanation of the changed state; there is nothing
present which pointed to a gradual change of conscious-
ness in itself. It is, however, on the other hand, obvious
how easily a defective discrimination of attention and
consciousness may lead to the opinion that consciousness,
just as much as attention, has degrees; and it will often
be found that consciousness is spoken of where attention
is meant. Attention may have degrees, because it con-
sists of nervous vibrations, and in all nervous vibrations
the magnitude of the vibrations of amplitude conditions
the intensity of the Sensation; consciousness, however,
can have no degrees, because it is an immaterial reaction,
which either does or does not occur, but, if it occurs,
always takes place in the same way.
The distinction between consciousness and self-conscious-
METAPHYSIC OF THE UNCONSCIOUS. IO9
mess has been already indicated at the beginning of this
chapter. Self-consciousness can, of course, not be con-
ceived without consciousness; how far a complete absence
of Self-consciousness can be in fact established must still
remain doubtful, since, indeed, self-consciousness also is
in the first instance instinctively born as so-called slight
self-feeling. Thus much is certain, that a very clear
consciousness occurs pretty often with the minimum of
self-consciousness; nay, even the more clear becomes
the objective consciousness in the same individual, the
more Self-consciousness disappears. Nobody is in a posi-
tion really to enjoy a work of art unless he really forgets
himself. In the same way self-consciousness almost entirely
ceases when one is steeped in some scientific book; but
when one is productive and absorbed in deep reflection,
then one is so absent not merely from the surroundings,
but even from oneself, that no thought remains for one's
own most important interests; nay, even, on being sud-
denly addressed, one has first to recollect one's own name.
And yet in these moments consciousness is clearest of all,
just because it is wholly merged in the subject, i.e., atten-
tion has reached the highest degree of concentration. This
absorption in a subject is, however, necessary wherever
the ideational process is called upon to do something con-
siderable, except in practical questions of personal interest,
because here all the aims of the whole life are to be re-
garded in their importance with respect to one another;
thus the identity of the Egos of different times, the per-
sonality, plays a leading part. For the same reason, how-
ever, exclusively practical natures also, who can never
forget themselves and their aims and interests, are regularly
devoid of every higher scientific and artistic faculty.
One sees, then, that consciousness and self-consciousness
are very different things; nevertheless the confusion of
the two is something quite common. For example, one
says of a somnambulist that in that state he is without
consciousness, whilst his performances (poems, written com-
I IO PHILOSOPHY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS.
positions) attest a very clear consciousness; but he is cer-
tainly without full self-consciousness, since his attention,
steeped in a one-sided object, is wanting to all other per-
ceptions that do not cohere with this particular object,
and therefore also no remembrance of the other aims and
interests arises in him which do not touch this object.
So far as complete self-consciousness includes the memory
of all ends and interests which previous Egos have ever
had, we often talk of recollection; and where one may
correctly say a man was at such and such moment, in
such and such an action, without his senses or without
self-consciousness, one often says incorrectly he was with-
out consciousness. On the other hand, one often says,
when somebody loses or has lost consciousness (e.g., in
swoon, stupefaction), he is or is becoming senseless, or is
losing self-consciousness; in this case the confusion of the
words says too little, as in others too much. Now, however,
it is clear that self-consciousness has degrees, for it is
most perfect when it merely embraces the Ego of present
mental activity, and is the more perfect, i.e., its degree is
the higher, the more Egos of past or future action it
embraces. For self-consciousness is not indeed, like con-
sciousness, bare, empty form, but it is consciousness of a
quite definite content, the self; and as this definite content
already belongs to its motion,the degree of self-consciousness
must also rise and fall with the degree of this content.
Consciousness, on the other hand, leaves its content quite
undetermined; it only requires a content at all, if it is
to come to manifestation, to reality; in its essence, how-
ever, it is pure form, and therefore its notion cannot
admit of differences of degree in consequence of the vary-
ing nature of the perfectly indifferent content. But if this
difference between consciousness and Self-consciousness is
not yet, or at least not in this respect, cleared up, it is no
wonder that, through the frequent confusion of the two
notions, one becomes imperceptibly accustomed to believe
also in gradual differences in consciousness itself. Still
METAPHYSIC OF THE UNCONSCIOUS. . I I I
more pardonable becomes the illusion when attention
and self-consciousness mingle ; when, e.g., I listen to a
signal with fullest self-consciousness, knowing that my
whole life-happiness is dependent thereon, and the sound
of a distant shot finally reaches the ear, I can also fall
into the error that the consciousness with which I have
now heard the sound is degrees higher than that with
which I should have casually heard it as a passer-by.
But if one conscientiously deducts the several elements:
first the thought that the whole Ego of the future depends
on the sense-perception of the next moment, then the
thought that it is I myself who am intentionally straining
my attention, then the muscular tension and the percep-
tion of the attention as such ; finally, the strengthening
of the Sensuous perception, its greater definiteness, &c.,
one will be obliged to grant that the residue remaining to
consciousness as such is the same in both cases, and that
the differences only affect partly the content presented to
consciousness by the brain, partly Self-consciousness.
After the common illusions of human introspection
have been thus laid bare, the assertion will have lost its
paradoxical air that the so-called highest and lowest con-
sciousness, that of man and the lowest animals, are as
consciousness quite alike, and are only distinguished by
the content presented to them. We saw that the simple
sensuous qualities, of which all sense-perception is com-
pounded, are reactions of the Unconscious on the material
vibrations of the central organ (brain, ganglia, animal and
vegetable protoplasm); it is matter of course that the
reactions take place according to the kind of the vibra-
tions, turn out the stronger and more vivid the stronger
are the vibrations, and are more definitely compounded
and more clearly discriminated from other similar sensa-
tions, the more definite and varied are the vibrations, and
the fewer differences of external stimuli they bring to
manifestation in the central organ.
It is accordingly obvious that the eye of the snail,
I I 2 PHILOSOPHY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS.
which, according to exact observations, must literally com-
pensate all the five senses without its being able to distin-
guish there with more than bright and dark in general,
that this eye causes vibrations in the central organ, which,
neither in respect of vision, Smell, taste, hearing, and touch,
exhibit such great differences as in animals with distinct
sense-organs, nor are capable even of considerable variety
within each of these special provinces of sensation. But
that which gives the power of distinguishing one percep-
tion from another confers also definiteness, and therefore
perceptions are the more indefinite the lower we descend
in the animal kingdom. This indefiniteness is only to
be conceived in such a way that in the perception the
detail is wanting which in higher organisations determines
differences. If we eliminate this detail from perception,
it will, however, become poorer in content, for there only
remains over the universal, which is ever the same in the
midst of difference. All indefiniteness of perception thus
depends on poverty, whereas richness in content is the
ground of definiteness and distinguishability. We can now
say wherein the distinction of an apparently lower con-
sciousness consists: in the slight intensity and the poverty
of the content presented to it; in the material Scantiness both
of the individual perception and idea, and of the whole acces-
sible mass of ideas. When I look at a single point of light
on a dark night, I see it sharply defined as a point with a
definite degree of brightness and the background in a defi-
nite degree of darkness. I also see both in quite definite
colours: this is the wealth which lies in this single per-
ception. The snail, however, does not see this point at all,
or, if it is very bright, it sees a weak shimmer of light
before it, and of all else it sees nothing: that is the poverty
of its perception.
But, moreover, the snail sees with much less intensity,
because with less attention. The enfeeblement of atten-
tion in all other directions, coincident with concentration
in a single one, proves the limited total amount of the
METAPHYSIC OF THE UNCONSCIO US. II 3
same for a definitely constituted being, which manifestly
is related to its total nervous energy. Nothing is more
obvious than that the total quantity of attention varies
in the animal series with the development of the whole
nervous system. Thus a snail with the utmost possible
strain of attention at a point of light will hardly be able to
apply as much attention as I, when I do not in the least
think about that point of light at all; for the central
organ of the snail stands in any case lower than my
corpora quadrigemina which receive the visual impressions,
and beyond which they do not reach when the brain is
occupied with other matters. We have now a tolerable
picture of the consciousness of the lower animals with a
single perception; and yet consciousness is always the
same, only the matter presented to it is so much weaker
and scantier.
The disproportion is still more increased when we take
into account the whole thought-material which under-
lies comparison, abstraction, and combination; then we soon
see that the indefiniteness and obscurity of the single idea
is still more exceeded by the poverty of the whole sum of
experiences which are at the command of such an animal
and by the incapacity of a central organ to retain suffi-
ciently in memory the experiences once had, or at all to
work them upinto more manageable partial ideas (concepts).
This hardly needs further development. The result of it
all is the confirmation of the proposition derived from our
principle, that consciousness as such, i.e., in its form, is
everywhere the same, and is only differentiated by the
matter presented to it; for nowhere did we have occasion
to ascribe to consciousness itself differences of degree, as
we are obliged to do, e.g., in the will, even apart from its
content ; the principle has thus stood even this final test.
5. The Unity of Consciousness.-At the close of this
chapter the question forces itself upon us, “What is unity
of consciousness?” We can, of course, agreeably to our
principles, only regard the question here from the empirical
WOL. II, H
I I4 PHILOSOPHY OF THE UNCONSCIO U.S.
side. Thus we cannot refer, for example, to the unity of the
underlying individual psychical essence, because we do not
yet know anything at all of this psychical existence, its in-
dividuality, and its unity, but, on the contrary, can only
learn something of it by answering this question. Moreover,
the advocates of indivisible individual souls must allow
that even the unity of consciousness may be resolved into
a multiplicity of strictly separated and perfectly incoherent
consciousnesses, whereas they must acknowledge the unity
of the mind underlying these different consciousnesses.
I allude only to such examples as Jessen cites in his
“Psychology,” of a girl who, after an intense lethargy, had
lost all her memory without enfeeblement of her mental
faculties and capacity for instruction. She had to begin
again to learn her alphabet. The attacks were repeated,
and after each the memory of the immediately preceding
portion of her life had disappeared, whilst that of the one
before the last reappeared in its place unweakened, so that
she always resumed her studies as if she had left them off
before the last attack but one. This example only presents
phenomena in a more striking and complete form, which in
a weaker degree and more partial way may be observed
everywhere. We can only recognise a unity of conscious-
ness between a past and present moment where in the pre-
sent there is the memory of this past moment, or where
there is at least a possibility of this memory. In strictness
one can speak of a real or actual unity of consciousness
only in the case of actual memory, whereas with merely
possible memory the unity of consciousness is merely
possible or potential.
If we further see what we have in actual memory, what
is added to a representation when I know it as a well-
Jenown idea or memory, it is, according to B. Chap. vii.
vol. i. pp. 305, 306, an instinctive feeling, which, analysed
into its discursive moments, has the following meaning:—I
have in addition to the main idea a very much weaker
contignous idea excited by the former, which I know to
METAPHYSIC OF THE UN CONSCIO US. II 5
be in causal relation with a former similar idea. Place
and time of this former idea may likewise be fixed by
means of the accompanying circumstances of the same
Surging up in memory.
It is thus nothing but the comparison of a present and
a past representation, that determines the unity of con-
Sciousness between temporally separated moments. The
possibility of this comparison is attained by this: that of
two present ideas the one represents the present, the other
the past; and the latter again becomes possible by this:
that I know the present idea to be in causal connection
with a former one similar to it. While, now, of the two
ideas,the One represents the past, consciousness comprehends
in this indivisible act of comparison the representations of
the present and past consciousness into one, and therewith
becomes conscious of the unity of consciousness for that
past and the present representation. To wit, if I have
two conscious representations, there exists a consciousness
of the One and a consciousness of the other idea; and I
should never have the right of maintaining a unity of
these two consciousnesses if I could not prove it. But
now, when I bring together two ideas for comparison, I
merge both consciousnesses in the third consciousness of
the comparison, and in this way have brought their unity
to immediate intuition. The comparison is thus the
moment which first of all makes possible the thought of
a unity of consciousness, and with the possibility of com-
parison the possibility of the unity of consciousness also
Cea.SeS.
As we have here seen the act of comparison to be the
judge of the unity of consciousness of a past and a present,
i.e., temporally separate representations, so does it also
decide in respect of spatially separated ideas, i.e., such as
are excited by different material parts. A human brain
has a certain magnitude, and the representations which
arise at one end of it are many inches removed from those
arising at the other end; nevertheless we do not doubt the
II 6 PHILOSOPHY OF THE UNCONSCIO US.
unity of the cerebral consciousness. The reason is simply
this: that in the healthy waking state every idea arising
anywhere in the brain may be compared with any one
arising anywhere else. On the other hand, the ideas of
the spinal cord and the ganglia, as they must of necessity
exist in reflex movements, &c., in injuries of the viscera and
the like, have in general no unity of consciousness along
with the cerebral representation; they have rather each
their separate conscious existence, since they cannot be
taken up into a common conscious act of comparison.
Only a few strong sensations of the lower nerve-centres
are comparable, and a unity of consciousness possible
so far as it is exhibited in common feeling. Whilst for
the different nerve-centres of an organism this unity of
consciousness is established with stronger stimulation of
the one or the other, it is in no way to be established for
the nerve-centres of different individuals, unless with
partial coalescence of two organisms by abortion, or be-
tween mother and foetus, where echoes of such unity of
consciousness are found for strong stimulations.
The cause of these phenomena is obvious. In the
brain, beside the special commissures, innumerable nerve-
fibres traverse the whole mass and establish a manifold
intimate union of every particle with the rest; the spinal
cord has already a much more imperfect union with the
brain; the sympathetic nervous system is only connected
with it by the single nervus vagus. In individuals which
have grown together only more or less casual concrescence
of subordinate nerve-strands can take place; in the case
of separate individuals all union is wanting. The more
perfect is the path between the functional part of the
central nerves, the less stimulus it needs to propagate the
stimulus of the one to the other unenfeebled and undis-
turbed; the more imperfect and longer the paths of con-
duction, the greater the resistances, the stronger must be the
stimuli, if they are to be propagated to the other central spot,
and the more obscure and more effaced are they on arrival.
METAPHYSIC OF THE UNCONSCIOUS, II 7
For him who is accustomed to the endless intermingling
of the phenomena of physical vibrations without any mutual
disturbance, this mode of viewing the nervous processes,
according to which each thought at one spot of the brain is
simultaneously telegraphed to all other spots, will not
appear strange ; it is impossible to interpret the anatomi-
cal construction of the brain with its numerous connecting
fibres in any other manner. The capability of conduction
it is then, in fact, which physically conditions the unity of
consciousness, and with which this is proportional. We
lay down, then, as a principle: Separate material parts give
Separate consciousness, a proposition which is as much re-
commended d priori as the distinct individuals confirm
it empirically. As long as the Australian ant is an
animal, its fore and after body acts with undivided con-
sciousness; as soon as one has cut it in pieces, the unity
of consciousness is abolished, and both parts turn against
one another.—We further assume: the comparison of two
ideas produced at different places only becomes possible
by the vibrations of the one place being carried over to
the other unenfeebled and undisturbed; only by the com-
parison of the two representations is the abolition of their
two consciousnesses in the indivisible consciousness of the
act of comparison possible; with it, however, we may
add, it is also co ipso given. (The metaphysical condition
of the identity of the psychical unconscious substance,
which will be discussed in Sect. C. Chap. vii., is here, of
course, tacitly assumed. Without it the physical condi-
tion of nerve-conduction would be just as vague as the
former without the latter.) The Siamese twins refused to
play draughts with one another, thinking that this would
be as if the right hand should play with the left. The
negresses coadjunct at the lower part of the back, who
allowed themselves to be exhibited at the beginning of
1873 in Berlin, under the name of the two-headed nightin-
gale, are said to have sympathetic feelings of their mutual
sensations in the lower extremities., i.e., possess a unity of
II 8 PHILOSOPHY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS.
consciousness with respect to a certain sensitive area in
spite of the duality of their persons. But if one imagined
the union of the brains of two men possible by a bridge
as capable of conduction as is that between the two
hemispheres of the same brain, a mutual and indivisible
consciousness, including the thoughts of both brains, would
immediately embrace the hitherto separate consciousnesses
of both persons; each would no longer be able to distin-
guish his own thoughts from those of the other; i.e., they
would no longer know themselves as two Egoes, but only
as one Ego, as my two cerebral hemispheres also only
know themselves as one Ego.
( I 19 )
IV.
THE UN CONSCIOUS AND CONSCIOUSNESS IN THE WEGETABLE
KINGDOM.
THE question of the animation of the vegetable kingdom
is an old one; outside Judaism and Christianity it has
been almost everywhere affirmed. Our time, which has
been nourished by the theories of these two systems of
belief, and has not yet by a long way bridged over the
gulf between spirit and sense, rent asunder by Chris-
tianity, has with difficulty admitted the kinship of men
and animals; no wonder that it has not yet been able
to elevate itself to the admission of the vegetable soul,
since its physiology is accustomed to regard, even in the
animal, the organic functions and reflex actions as merely
material mechanisms. The subject has been best treated
by Fechner in his memoir, “Nanna; or, The Psychical
Life of Plants” (Leipzig, 1848), if also with an infu-
sion of much of the fantastical; comp. further Schopen-
hauer, “On Will in Nature,” chap. “Vegetable Physio-
logy,” and Autenrieth, “Views on Nature and Psychical
Life.” I shall content myself with giving a short exposi-
tion of the doctrine, and with showing the considerably
greater clearness which is introduced into the whole ques-
tion by the distinction of unconscious and conscious psy-
chical activity. I am convinced that many a one, who
was obliged to maintain a negative position owing to the
previous mode of treatment, will be reconciled to the
doctrine of plant-animation when the notions of the Un-
conscious and Consciousness are kept quite apart.
I2O PHILOSOPHY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS,
I. The Unconscious Psychical Activity of Plants.-The
plant has, like the animal, organic plastic activity, vis
7medicatria, reflex movements, instinct, and the impulse
towards the beautiful; and if in the animal the pheno-
mena must be regarded as unconscious effects of a Soul,
ought they not also so to be in the plant 2 If the uncon-
scious psychical performances of the plant do not rise to
the mental processes of the animal, but remain entirely
sunk in corporeity, should therefore their soul be less
soul, if that which it accomplishes is just as perfect in
its sphere as that achieved by the animal in its sphere,
nay, even far superior, because it builds up the refrac-
tory inorganic substances into higher and higher stages,
whereas the animal, on the whole, only guides and watches
over their natural degeneration ? Let us consider the
several movements in their order.
(a) Organic Formative Activity—This works, as in the
animal, according to a typical generic idea, which, it is true,
allows a great latitude in respect of number of branches,
leaves, &c., but nevertheless is still perfectly definite in
the law of arrangement of the leaves, the form of leaf,
inflorescence, and internal structure. This morpholo-
gical type possesses the greatest constancy and unchange-
ability, although the nearer definition of the same for the
physiological functions is tolerably indifferent. Accord-
ingly, one cannot look upon this constancy as a result of
useful adaptation in the struggle for existence; rather
one has to perceive in the morphological type of the
vegetable kingdom essential results of an ideal forma-
tive impulse of the Unconscious-As in the ascending
organisation of the animal kingdom typical anticipations
are especially remarkable which only become suitable at
higher stages, we have to mark such anticipations of the
unconscious formative impulse of Nature in the vegetable
kingdom likewise. Thus, e.g., higher Algae exhibit an axis
with lateral regularly arranged expansions which would
at once be designated by the ignorant as stem, root, and
METAPHYSIC OF THE UNCONSCIOUS. I2 I
leaves, whilst according to the dogma of the botanical
system the Algae are root and leafless plants. Hence the
botanist calls the leaves of the Sargassum only “leaf-like
expansions,” and the roots “root-like structures,” which
want at the apex the “root-cap,”—and we will not
disturb him in his faith.
It is true one can divide the plant as one may divide
lower animals, so that each part still possesses the capa-
bility of again completing the type from itself. But as in
animals, so also in plants, the division is by no means un-
limited, if a completion is to remain possible. In the
plant, too, all parts are in reciprocal connection. Every
part nearer the earth works up the materials precisely as
the proximate part must receive it for further elaboration.
The root of an oak would never nourish a beech, nor a
tulip-bulb a hyacinth. There takes place also in the plant
a harmonious interaction of all the parts, and this can
only conduce to the end of the exhibition of the specific
type in all the successive stages of development.
If in winter one conducts a branch of a tree standing in
the open air into a hothouse, the tree unfolds its leaves
and flowers, whilst the rest of the tree retains its rigidity.
The water required by the tree for this purpose is absorbed
by the roots, as observation shows. Thus the latter are
stimulated to increased absorption by the increased vital
action of a branch (Decandolle, “Vegetable Physiology,” i.
76). How far a direct union by conduction takes place
between the several parts of the plants we do not know,
although the spiral vessels appear to point to that ; but
we just as little know in the case of the animal how
far the harmonious interworking of the performances of
the single parts is effected by conduction, and how far it
is due to direct clairvoyance, as that of the individuals in
the commonwealth of bees or ants.
Propagation takes place in the animal and vegetable
kingdoms on precisely the same principles, by cellular
division, spores or budding, and sexual generation. The
I22 PHILOSOPHY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS.
similarity in both provinces is, especially in the first stages
of generation, so striking, that precisely the same reasons
necessitate the assumption of an unconscious psychical
influence in the origin of the plant as in the origin of the
animal. The embryonic states certainly part company
very soon after, as is not otherwise to be expected, accord-
ing to the difference of the types to be produced; but in
both the progressive development is a continuous struggle
of the organising soul with the tendency of the material
elements to decomposition, degeneration, and destruc-
tion of form. Only by the constant prevention of these
degenerating processes and ceaseless reinstatement of
the circumstances urging to continued formation, is it
possible at any moment for the formed organic matter
to get the better of the relatively formless inorganic
matter, for a new higher stage of the specific type to be
realised.
Every single cell takes part in these operations; for the
living part of every plant, as of every animal, consists of
the sum of the living cells, except that in animals on the
average the changes of form and fusion of the cells are
somewhat more extensive, and the intercellular substance
secreted and nourished by the cells is more copious. The
cell is the chemical laboratory for the preparation of the
various organic combinations; the division and amalgama-
tion of the cells are the sole means for the setting up of
the external form. At the same time just as strict a divi-
sion of labour is carried out as in the animal; one kind
of cells has to form this material, another that. As in
the animal the cells are elaborated into bones, muscles,
sinews, nerves, connective tissues, and epithelial cells;
so in the plant into medullary cells, wood cells, cortical
cells, sap cells, starch cells, &c. Each cell absorbs only
those substances which it can make use of, or if it takes
up aught else, it sends this on unassimilated. A circula-
tion of sap takes place in each single cell, and likewise in
the whole plant. It is true open vessels do not exist, but
METAPHYSIC OF THE UNCONSCIO US. I23
the circulation of the sap is effected by the endosmose and
exOSmose of the several cells; still, however, a perfect circu-
lation of ascending and descending juices takes place, as a
similar circulation takes place in all the parts of the animal
body that are wanting in nutritive vessels (e.g., in the
deciduous parts of the umbilicus, the bones, sinews, cornea,
&c.), or with which the nutritive vessels do not directly
communicate. Hales cemented a tube to the upper end of
a lopped vine seven inches long; in the first experiment the
height of the sap which had risen from the surface of the
section into the tube amounted to 2 I feet; in the second,
quicksilver poured in from above was raised to the height
of 38 inches. Hales calculates from this the energy of the
ascending Sap to be equal to five times the force of the
blood in the femoral artery of a horse. One sees what in
the higher animal is due to the heart's action is in the
plant the sum of the united absorption of all the sap cells.
This difference frequently recurs, that the same actions in
the animal are produced by centralisation, in the plant
by decentralisation: in the animal monarchically, in the
plant in republican fashion. But the absorption by the
cells is by no means merely mechanical; it takes place
rather with selection of direction and material, for other-
wise no circulation and no distribution of nutritive matters
to different cells could take place.
The directions of the growth of plants and parts of
plants are, as a whole, conditioned by gravitation and
light, now in the sense that they coincide with the direc-
tions of these forces; now in this, that they strive to place
themselves in a transverse position with respect to the
latter; now in such a way that both forces neutralise one
another. The complications hence arising become, how-
ever, still more intricate by this: that certain plants
change their behaviour to these determining forces accord-
ing to the phases of their stage of development, if they
are brought by Special circumstances into a position
where their normal behaviour would be inappropriate in
I24 PHILOSOPHY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS.
respect of their vital needs. Thus Duchartre found, under
the bottom of a water-butt, numerous fungi of the Mush-
room family which had been compelled to grow from above
downwards, but had deviated from the perpendicular at
least 30°, and of which those more developed with open-
ing and spreading caps exhibited a geniculate bending
of the stalk upwards, about 5” from its end, through
which the normal position of the opened cap was restored.
Seven examples of Clariceps, which were artificially
brought into the inverted position in a glass tube, showed
an analogous behaviour, only that the stalks formed here
no angle but an arc of 3 to 5” (“Der Naturforscher,”
I870, p. 194).
In organic adaptation, likewise, the vegetable will bear
comparison with the animal kingdom. There is even
much which in animals is cared for by instinct, but
which in plants, on account of their greater weight, is pro-
vided for by organic mechanisms, which again can be set
up only by unconscious psychical activity. Here, too, the
transitions are of such a kind that we cannot always
sharply distinguish mechanisms and instincts.
First there is a series of phenomena for the better
nutrition of plants by retaining putrefying animal matters.
The aborted leaves of the common Teazel—Dipsacus fullo-
num—form about the stem a kind of basin, which is filled
with rain-water, and in which many accidentally drowned
insects are often found. The like is found in a tropical
parasitic plant — Fillandsia utriculata. The Sarraceniae
have leaves which, latterly rolled together, form an ochrea,
and are in part provided with opercula. Short, stiff hairs
prevent imbibing insects from returning from the water-
holding ochrea. Wepenthes destillatoria has the urn with
an operculum as appendix of the shallow leaves. It closes
the opercula by night and secretes Sweetish water, entic-
ing insects, which by day is again gradually evaporated
from the open urn. The Sweetness of the water is pro-
duced by hairy, glandular, excretory organs. Dionata
METAPHYSIC OF THE UNCONSCIO US. I 25
muscipwla has a lobed divided appendage on each leaf,
which is closely set with small glands, with six aculea in
the middle and setaceous cilia at the edge. When an
insect, attracted by the juice, sits on the two lobes, these
shut up, and only again open when the animal has become
quiet, i.e., when it is dead. Curtis sometimes found the
captured fly enveloped in a slimy substance, which ap-
peared to act as a solution on the same. The Sun-dew,
Drosera, has very red bristly hairs on the leaves, each
of which terminates in a gland, from which in hot weather
a small viscid pearly drop is exuded. This viscid sap
retains Small insects; the hairs quickly curve over the same,
and gradually the whole leaf bends back with the apex
towards the base (A. W. Roth, “Beiträge zur Botanik,”
I Thl., 1782, p. 60). This sap is at the same time poison-
ous for insects (also unwholesome for sheep), and thereby
compensates for what the plant wants in quick irritability.
Roth often found in the open air leaves of the Sun-dew
bent together, which always enclosed insects more or less
in a state of decay. “Let any one imagine in boggy water
small utricular leaves, bent together into a hollow tube
with open mouth, irritable at their borders, with hair-like
Soft threads, whilst the opening acts at the same time
venomously on Small animals, and the inner surface of
the cylindrical tube adapted for absorption. One would
thus have an image, which would be compounded of the
convolute or urn-shaped leaves of the Sarracenia and
Nepenthes, of the irritability of the leaf-appendages of
the Dionaºa, and of the irritable but poison-secreting
hairs of the Drosera. One gets, however, also at the
same time the actual picture of the organisation of a small
insect remarkable for its instinct—the green hydra of
Sweet water, Hydra viridis L.” (Autenrieth); for the touch
of the mouth of this creature also acts poisonously. That
such plants thrive more luxuriantly on products of animal
putrefaction absorbed by the leaves is experimentally
proved in the case of the Diona’a.
I 26 PHILOSOPHY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS.
Very wonderful also are those contrivances in plants
which subserve sexual propagation. In erect flowers
the stamens are generally longer than the pistils; in
pendulous ones, the reverse. Where the pollen grains
cannot without assistance fall on the stigmata, and the
wind is not sufficient to carry them away, insects have to
perform this office. Hence the attractive bright colours
of flowers, their far-reaching scent, which is always
developed most strongly in the daytime, when the insects
most suited to the particular flower swarm ; hence the
sweet sap at the base of the flower, which compels the
dainties-loving animal to creep deep enough within, so
that it brushes off with its bristly body the pollen,
which then comes to adhere to the pistil, either of
the same or of another flower. In the Asclepiadeae
and Orchids the pollen adheres to the insect by means
of a sort of bird-lime. Aristolochia clematitis has a
bellied flower with a narrow entrance, which by means
of lateral hairs prevents the exit of the little midges that
have crept in. These swarm about in their prison until
they have stripped off the pollen with their feathered
antennae and brought it to the stigma. Immediately after
fructification the hairs begin to dry up and fall off, and
release the flies from their prison.
If the pollen grains become wet, they expand and burst;
then fertilisation becomes impossible. In this way rainy
weather becomes very injurious at the blossoming of the
grain. The precautionary measures of the flowers for
escaping the wet are very numerous. In the Vine and
the species of Rampions fertilisation takes place under the
protection of the petals cohering by their tips; in the Legu-
minosae the standard (vexillum) accords the same protection;
in the Labiatae, the upper lips of the corolla; in the species
of Calyptranthe, the operculate calyx. Many plants close
their corolla when it is about to rain (this is instinct);
many also by night to protect themselves from the dew ;
others at night-time bend round their flower-stalks, so
METAPHYSIC OF THE UNCONSCIOUS. 127
that the open side of the corolla is turned aside. Impatiens
noli me tangere hides even its flowers under its leaves by
night. In most aquatic plants dry fertilisation is rendered
possible by this, that they do not bloom before their stalks
have reached the surface of the water. The Alga fixed to
the sea-bottom flowers in leafy folds, which it is true are
open laterally, but hinder the entrance of the water by
means of excreted gases. The Water-crowfoot (Ranunculus
aquaticus), whose flowers are flooded at high water, is
protected by the pollen dropping out of the anthers at a
time when the flower is still a close, air-containing bud.
The Water-nut (Trapa natans) lives at the bottom of the
water until flowering time, when the petioles, ranged side
by side into a kind of leaf-rose, swell to cellular bladders
filled with air, and raise the whole plant to the surface of
the water. Thus florescence and fructification take place
in the air. When this is over, the bladders are filled with
water, and the plant sinks again to the bottom, where it
then brings its seed to maturity. Still more complicated
is the arrangement of the species of Utricula for the same
purpose. Their strongly ramified roots are covered with
a multitude of small round bladders (utriculi) possessing
a kind of movable lid, and filled with a mucus that is
heavier than water. By means of this ballast the plant
is retained at the bottom of the water, until at flowering
time the mucus is got rid of by excreted gases. It now
slowly rises to the surface, flowers and fructifies, and is
then again drawn down, whilst the root again secretes
mucus, which now on its part drives out the air from the
little sac (Decandolle, “Vegetable Physiology,” ii. 87). The
Vallisneria is an aquatic plant with distinct sex (dioecious),
which grows attached at the bottom of the water. The
flower of the female plant sits on a long screw-shaped stalk,
which subsequently extends and lifts the flower above the
water. The male plant has a shaft tending straight
upwards. The four-leaved spathe is split into four pieces
through further expansion of the inner parts, and now the
I 28 PHILOSOPHY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS.
male organs of fructification swim freely about in the
water in thousands. As soon as a female flower is
fertilised the stem again spirally contracts, and thus the
seeds are brought to maturity below.—Also in Serpi-
cula verticillata, the male flowers, when near rupture, are
released from the opened spathes and swim to the female,
whereby they rest on the apices of the replicate sepals
and petals.
“One species of plant jerks ingeniously far and wide
the ripe seed-grains by means of the elasticity of the
capsule which flies open spontaneously. The beards of
oats are, on the contrary, wound round spirally, and are
so hyproscopic that the first rain unrolls them, and com-
pels the thereby backwards-thrust grain to creep under
the nearest clod, and so to betake itself beneath the earth
for future sprouting. Other plant-seeds are provided with
wings or plumose pappus, in order to be borne through the
air. Others even have little hooks, in order to cling to
passing animals, that they may be again dispersed by these
means to other places” (Autenrieth, 151). The ripe
fruits of the Stork’s-bill are jerked off, by the curling
back of the indurated styles, three to four feet from the
plant. The extending style, by becoming damp, makes
a spiral revolution, which chiefly causes the sharp point
of the seed to strike the earth somewhere, into which
it must now penetrate. If drier weather occurs, little
bristles on the seed-corn, which act as barbs, prevent a
recoil, and the shortening is followed by a drawing of the
style towards the grain, so that now, with repeated mois-
tening, the newly gained point of support for the end of
the style permits a deeper penetration into the ground.
Since the lower part of the style itself is also provided
with barb-like bristles, on change of weather the fruit
can interpenetrate the soil even to complete disappear-
ance in the manner of a corkscrew.
Many seeds cover themselves for protection with a hard
shell, and in Order to be devoured and carried farther by
METAPHYSIC OF THE UNCONSCIOUS. I29
animals, which in their excrements directly supply them
with manure, they envelop themselves in savoury pulp
(stone-fruit, grapes, gooseberries, currants, &c.), or they
peripherally surround a carnose nucleus (strawberries, &c.)
The seeds of aquatic plants are usually heavier than
water, and accordingly sink to the bottom. Those of most
lofty trees, on the contrary, are light, and are transported
on the surface of the water far and wide to new stations
by wind and current. The mango-tree (Rhizophora mangle)
grows, at the mouths of rivers and on flat sea-shores, in
the mud, so far as the same is covered over by the salt
flood, thrives therefore only on a narrow strip, wherefore
the seeds must take firm root beside the mother tree.
On the receptacle of the flower of this tree now there is
gradually produced a pulpy hollow growth, by which the
seed, with the help of a stalk 1% inch long, is pushed
out, so that after about a year it depends perpendicularly.
The seed itself is IO inches long, thicker and heavier
towards the free end, but terminating with a puncheon-
shaped point. It sprouts within its covering, and even
develops an important root. Through its form and weight
the falling seed penetrates water and mud three to four
feet, and penetrates the ground yet one inch more, where
it can then soon fasten itself with its root.—These ex-
amples may suffice to show, that even the vegetable soul
performs sufficiently wonderful works in setting up ap-
propriate mechanisms, whose end is even in part tolerably
remote. -
(b) The Recuperative Power of Nature. — Animals have
each organ only just as often as the whole organism
requires it for its maintenance ; hence the endeavour
to replace a lost one in the same way. The Idea of the
plant demands a numerically unlimited repetition of the
same organs; wherefore also a partial loss usually is not
prejudicial to the persistence of the whole. Here, then,
no reason exists for restoring the lost parts at the same
place and in the same manner, since the plant finds it
WOL. II. I
I 30 PHILOSOPHY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS.
much easier to accomplish the replacement at other places
by means of the already existing buds. Nevertheless,
sufficient opportunities are afforded for seeing that in the
plant likewise the vis medicatria, is active, it is only neces-
sary to deprive a plant of a certain class of organs which
is essential for its existence, e.g., all the roots, when it
will immediately put forth new roots, or die when it has
no longer the requisite force. Also the process of cica-
trising wounds or cut surfaces is altogether analogous to
that of animals.
Finally, in the plant as in the animal, the whole life
is an infinite sum of infinitely numerous acts of the
wis medicatria, since at each moment the destructive
physical and chemical influences must be paralysed and
met. w
(c) Reflea. Movements.-The physiologists distinguish
reflex movement and “simple stimulation of contractile
tissue.” This is correct when one inquires where the
reflexion of the stimulus into motion takes place; namely,
whether the seat of reaction lies at the stimulated spot
itself or at another; it is, however, a mistake to try to
find herein a difference of principle. The essence of re-
flexion in both cases is conversion of an active stimulus
nto reactive motion ; an absolute restriction to the irri-
tated point is at the same time never met with ; but
whether the conduction proceeds a little further or not
can make no difference in principle. That which stamps
a reactive movement as reflex action is the inadequacy of
merely material natural laws for its production; only
when we can rest content with these (e.g., elasticity,
chemical reaction), only then can we deny reflex action,
whose essence is an unconscious psychical, an instinctive
reaction. Whether a reflexion is effected by nerves and
muscles, or by other equivalent mechanism, can by no
means justify a difference in principle, since the strictly
active matter is still always the protoplasm, whether free
or enclosed in various kinds of cells.
META PHYSIC OF THE UNCONSCIOUS. I3 E
If the water inhabited by a polype be shaken, the
polype contracts into a bundle. This will be called by
every one reflex action, no matter whether in future, in
the homogeneous slimy mass of the polype, the analogues
of nerves and muscles be discovered or not. And when
the Mimosa pudica, shaken by the tread of the passer-by,
shrinks along with its leaves, is this not reflex action ?
When the irritated penis is erected in virtue of change of
blood-circulation, this is admitted to be reflex movement,
and in the case of the plant is not the altered sap-circu-
lation to be considered just as good a means to reflex
movement 2 For the plant indeed does not need the con-
tinuous quick movements for which the animal requires
its muscles, accordingly muscles would be a useless luxury
for it. In the animal the sign of reflexion is that about
the same reaction occurs, whether one applies a mechanical,
chemical, thermal, galvanic, or electric stimulus; the same
is, however, also the case with plants, whereas dead me-
chanisms are wont to respond only to a quite definite
stimulus. Strong electric shocks annihilate animal as
well as vegetable irritability. If a needle, connected with
the positive pole of a galvanic battery, be stuck through
the stalk of a barberry flower, and the wire of the negative
pole be united with a petal by means of a lightly affixed
moist piece of paper, at the moment of closing the chain
the stamen belonging to the leaf springs over to the pistil.
If the pole be changed, the current is less active, just as
animal preparations more powerfully react when the nega-
tive pole is united with the peripheral end. On opening
the chain no movement takes place, just as with frog's
thighs. According to Blondeau the constant current,
with application of the necessary precautions, acts on the
Mimosa pudica, just as little as on animal muscles as
a motor stimulus, whilst the intermittent induction cur-
rent proves to be a very violent stimulus. The part of
an irritated animal slowly returns to its position on the
abolition of the stimulus; thus, e.g., an irritated oyster or
I 32 PHILOSOPHY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS.
polype quickly shrinks, but opens slowly. A repetition
of the stimulation blunts the irritability, rest restores it.
Further, the irritability manifests itself differently accord-
ing to condition of health, age, sex, season, state of the
weather, and other circumstances. All this occurs with
plants precisely as with animals.
The reflex movements of the Dionata muscipula I have
already mentioned above. If an insect deposits itself on a
leaf of the same, it is first of all retained there, being
caught by the hairs, and then gradually the whole leaf
coils round it. Here we have upon a simple stimulus at
a single spot a partly simultaneous, partly appropriate
Successive participation of many places of the leaf, precisely
as we are accustomed to find in animals, only that instead
of the monarchical command of a nerve centre, a republican
participation of all the parts in harmonious agreement has
place. The phenomenon is more centralised, and therefore
more animal-like in all leaves, anthers, &c., where the seat
of reaction is to be sought in the joints, by which these
parts are fastened. - -
In many flowers the ripe anthers gradually spontaneously
incline towards the pistil, in some a joint is formed, which,
on the stimulus of some insect, jerks the pollen on to the
stigma. In others the crooked stigma is also irritable,
and extends on a stimulus affecting it, whereby it carries
off pollen from the anthers. Mimosa pudica has bipinnate
leaves, and the leaflets, nerves, the chief leaf-stalk,
nay, even the branch, have each their special move-
ment. If cautiously avoiding all shaking, some strong
acid be applied to a leaflet by degrees, all the adjacent
leaves close up; according to Dutrochet, the velocity of
propagation amounts from eight to fifteen millimetres in
a second in the leaf-stalks, in the Stigma, at the most,
from two to three millimetres. Here the conductivity is
actually visible. The same result is reached when a leaf-
let is gently scorched; the leaves fold up much beyond
that required by the effect of the heat. Brücke, and sub-
METAPHYSIC OF THE UNCONSCIOUS. I33
ſº
sequently Bert, proved that in this remarkable plant the
Spontaneous movements, which consist in a raising and
lowering of the petioles according to the time cf day, are
to be well distinguished from the movements resulting
from stimulation, since the capacity of the plant for the
latter is paralysed by ether vapours, which, indeed, act
likewise narcotically on the nervous system of the animal,
whereas the former are propagated unchanged. That the
diurnal elevations and depressions depend on regular
alternations of the Sap-circulation is undoubted; by what
means the tension of the upper and lower knots on the
petioles is changed on occasion of a stimulus has indeed
not been directly established for Mimosa pudica, but
certainly for the above-mentioned pollen of Berberis
vulgaris. Here, namely (as in most vegetable parts), an
opposite tension on the part of various tissues takes
place, in that the exterior coating strives to shorten
the filament, the underlying protoplasm endeavours to
lengthen it. If, now, a suitable stimulus approaches the
inner side of the filament, the protoplasm contracts;
and while, in this way, the previous equilibrium of the
tensions is changed in favour of the exterior coating, this
can realise its tendency to shortening, and by this means
bends the filament. The action, which liberates the play
of existing forces, is thus here a contraction of the proto-
plasm, precisely as in lower animals or as in muscles of
higher ones. -
It is impossible to mistake the thorough-going analogy
between the reflex actions of animals and plants; the
differences reach only just as far as the general arrange-
ment of the organisms and as the special ends of each
reaction differ. If, now, the reflex actions in animals
have once for all been recognised as in the last resort acts
of a psychical mature, one cannot avoid claiming this un-
conscious psychical element also for plants, just as one
must reckon it to every animal part, which is still per se
capable of reflex movements. *
134 PHILOSOPHY OF THE UNconscious.
(d) Instinct.—We saw already in the animal kingdom
the inseparability of instinct, reflex movement, and
organic formation; in the vegetable kingdom they can
still less be separated, for, on the one hand, on account of
the defective means of movement for the plant, organic
formation must accomplish much by appropriate mecha-
nisms which the animals perform with instinctive move-
ment (think of coition and the dissemination of the seeds),
and on the other side the consciousness of plants stand so
low, that the difference between the stimulus of reflex
movement and the motive of instinctive action must
shrink to a minimum. Nevertheless we shall still find
abundant traces, which unmistakably confront us as the
same as that which we call instinct in the animal
kingdom. A polype instinctively betakes itself from the
shaded half of its vessel to that illuminated by the sun,
and when Oscillatoriae do the same, when the sunflower
almost dislocates its neck in order to turn its face to the
Sun, is that not to be called instinct 2 Dutrochet relates
in his Rech. p. 131 : “I saw the leaf of a plant standing in
the open air, whose upper surface was covered with a
small board, try to withdraw itself from the screen by
means which were not always the same, but were always
of a kind which must most easily and quickly lead to the
goal; thus this happened now by means of a lateral bend-
ing of the leaf-stalk, now by a bending of the same leaf-
stalk towards the pedicle.”
IGnight saw a vine-leaf, whose under side was illumi-
nated by the sun, and whose approach to a natural posi-
tion he had blocked in every way, make almost every
possible attempt to turn to the light the right side, with
which it was mainly necessitated to respire. After it had
for a few days attempted to approach the light in a cer-
tain direction, and by bending back its lobes had almost
covered its whole under-side therewith, it spread itself out
and removed further from the window of the glass-house,
in order to approach the light in the opposite direction
METAPHYSIC OF THE UNCONSCIOUS. I 35
(Treviranus, Beiträge, I 19). Frank (Die natiirl, wage-
rechte Richtung, &c., Leipzig, 1870) has recently con-
firmed this, and extended it to a number of other plants.
According to him also it is noticeable that this movement
is always executed by the shortest course, the leaf turning
now up, now down, now right, now left. The wonder is
not diminished by the circumstance that the leaves, or
leaf-stalks, lose this capability when their growth is
complete, except when they are provided with special
cushion-like swellings at the base of the stem, which on
every occasion may again receive changes of dimension,
which during the period of growth are to be looked upon
as relatively violent modifications of the same.—Dutrochet
covered the terminal leaf of a three-leaved bean-leaf
(Phaseolus vulgaris) with a small board. As the shortness
of the special leaf-stalk made retreat impossible to the
leaflet, this took place by the bending of the joint petiole,
whereas in the dark the board was not evaded. “If,”
says the investigator, “one sees how many means are here
applied to attain the same end, one will be almost tempted
to believe there dwells here a secret intelligence which
chooses the most appropriate means for the attainment of
the end.” So, driven by the simple power of facts, does a
naturalist utter a truth, which is only incomprehensible to
him, because he is not acquainted with unconscious psy-
chical activity. That there is here no mere reflex action
on a stimulus is easy to See, for it is just the want of a
necessary stimulus which is evaded.
Tolerably familiar are the phenomena of vegetable
sleep, whereby the leaves are partly lowered, partly in-
verted, the flowers lower their heads or shut up. In fact,
these phenomena have been already mentioned and find
their end in protecting the pollen grains from the dew.
That the depression of the petals, however, does not depend
on mere exhaustion, we may easily convince ourselves;
in their bent condition they are rather in a state of ten-
sion and elastic. Malva peruviana, by rearing the leaves
136 PHILOSOPHY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS,
round the stalk at the tip of the branches forms in the
dormant condition a kind of funnel, under which the
young flowers or leaves are protected; Impatiens-moli-me-
tangere forms out of the depressed upper leaves an arch
for the young sprouts, some others enclose the flowers by
folding the leaflets of their compound leaves. The time
for sleep and waking are as different for plants as for
animals. Many of our plants bend towards the sun,
others punctually keep fixed times, no matter into what
climate they are transferred, no matter whether it be
Summer or winter. One sees from this that these perio-
dical movements also are partially independent of ex-
ternal stimuli and arise purely from internal conditions
of the plant itself; they are simply instinctively regu-
lated efforts.
In many plants the stamina incline towards the pistil
for purposes of fertilisation, shed their pollen, and then
return to their position; in others the pistil moves
towards the stamens; in yet others, both mutually seek
each other (Treviranus, Physiologie der Gewächse, ii. 389).
In Lilium Superbum, Amaryllis formosissima, and Pan-
crativm maritimum, the anthers successively approach
the stigma. In Fritillaria persica, they alternately bend
towards the style. In Rhus coriaria, two or three filaments
simultaneously protrude, describe a quadrant, and bring
their anthers quite close to the stigma. In Saa'ifraga tridac-
tilytes, muscoides, aizoon, granulata, and cotyledon, two
stamens approach each other from opposite sides above
the stigma, and again spread, after they have Scattered their
pollen, in order to make room for others. In Parnassia.
palustris the male parts move to the female in the same
order in which the pollen matures, and indeed, when they
approach the stigma, quickly and at once, when they again
separate after fertilisation, in three periods. In Tropaeolum,
they elevate themselves one after the other from the origi-
nally depressed filaments at the period of full bloom, and
after the anthers have shed their pollen on the stigma
METAPHYSIC OF THE UNCONSCIOUS. I37
bend down again, in order to make room for others.
One cannot wish for a clearer indication of instinct than
is presented in these examples; for here the motive is
the presence of the stigma, and the maturity of the pollen,
but the order in which, and the fashion in which the
stamens move to and fro wears just as much the sem-
blance of caprice as any animal movement can.
Remarkable are the instinctive movements of climbing
plants (vide Mohl, On the Winding of Tendrils). Such a
plant first grows somewhat perpendicularly upwards, then
its stalk bends horizontally, and describes circles, in order
to seek a support in the environment, just as an eyeless
caterpillar describes circles with its anterior parts to seek
a new leaf. The longer the pistil grows the larger, of
course, become the circles; that is, if the plant finds no
Support in the environment it seeks it in a wider circuit.
Finally, if the stalk can no longer support its own weight
it falls to the ground, and now creeps further in a straight
direction. If it now finds a support it might either take
no notice of it, or, for convenience sake, run indeed further
along the earth in order not to be obliged to climb; in
point of fact, however, it immediately grasps its support
and climbs up by it spirally. Yet here, too, the plant
still proceeds by way of selection; the flat side (especially
in the young stalk) does not wind itself about dead
organic or inorganic supports, but only about living
plants, by which it eagerly climbs upwards, for the roots
cleaving to the earth soon die, and it is then entirely
assigned to the food, which it imbibes with its papillae
from the clasped plant. Every creeping plant by nature
either moves to the right or to the left, If one unrolls a
young convolvolus from its support and winds it round
again in the opposite direction, it will return into its
original spiral direction, or will surrender its life in the
endeavour. This too answers to the animal instincts. If
however, one allows two such plants mutually to embrace
without foreign support, and so to climb by one another's
138 PHILOSOPHY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS.
aid, the one voluntarily changes its solitary direction in
order to make this mutual embrace possible (Farmer's
Magazine, repeated in the Times of the 13th July 1848).
Thus, instead of adapting itself to the powerful change,
the plant prefers to sacrifice its life; but when this change
is judicious, it anticipates it of its own accord. Here one
finds even the variability of animal instinct in the most
remarkable form.
(e) The Instinct for Beauty in plants cannot in this place
be further proved. I hold the assertion to be correct also
for the vegetable kingdom, that every being builds itself
up as beautifully as is compatible with the ends of its
existence, and so far as it can subdue the stubborn
material. Whether one considers the greatest or the least
in the vegetable kingdom, the stately oak or the micro-
scopic moss; whether one looks to the whole or the indivi-
dual, to the glorious primaeval forest or the fir cone, every-
where that truth will be found confirmed. -
Thus we have again found the five moments in the
vegetable kingdom in which, as in the animal kingdom,
we perceived the effects of the Unconscious in bodily life.
Accordingly, we are no longer warranted in refusing to
the plant unconscious will and unconscious presentation.
That we perceive no higher mental phenomena in the
plant need not surprise us, since, indeed, the purpose of
the vegetable kingdom is altogether only this—to prepare
the ground, the food, and the atmosphere for the animal
kingdom, although we must also admit that at the same
time the creative principle works itself out independently
in the vegetable kingdom in its own fashion.
2. Consciousness in the Plant.—The result thus far was
not difficult to foresee, and needed no great penetration.
More difficult, however, is the question whether in the
plant there also dwells a consciousness.
Old as Natural Science is the dispute concerning the
vegetable or animal nature of certain organisms, and even
at the present day it is as little capable of decision as in
METAPHYSIC OF THE UNCONSCIOUS. I 39
the time of Aristotle, for the simple reason that as an
alternative it does not admit of decision.
Plants and animals have, as organic beings, certain
attributes in common; by other attributes they are dis-
tinguished according to their different offices in the house-
hold of Nature. But now, if all vital phenomena are
reducible to so simple a form, that those distinguishing
qualities more or less disappear, and essentially only those
common to the two kingdoms remain, the differences be-
tween plant and animal must also disappear, and it is
foolish to maintain a dispute which in its nature must be
without result. Microscopic observation is so far ad-
vanced that, if there were criteria for the vegetable or the
animal nature, they could certainly not escape the inves-
tigator, and the dispute would have ended long ago; that
there are, in fact, no criteria mutually admitted by the
two contending parties, is a proof that there is no distinct
agreement as to the point of dispute itself. Were the
facts accepted without prejudice, the inference could only
be that one had hitherto narrowed too much the sphere of
the qualities common to the two kingdoms, that there are
far fewer differences between animal and plant than one
had previously supposed, and that these differences became
only in their extreme forms so striking that nobody can
mistake them. Quite recently this way of looking at the
matter has also gained ground in scientific circles, the
strictest development of the same being the attempt of
Häckel to set up a third kingdom of Protista before the
vegetable and animal kingdom, although he may perhaps
have extended its borders too far, and his criterion of non-
sexual reproduction may turn out to be untenable, because
the possession of Sexual generation alike by animal and
plant points to a common origin, i.e., to its existence already
in the realm of Protista. Altogether the attempt to give
fixed definition to the naturally fluctuating boundaries
between the Protist kingdom on the one hand, and the
animal and vegetable kingdom on the other, must be just
I4O PHILOSOPHY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS.
as vain as the earlier endeavour in respect to the two
latter kingdoms. g
This mode of regarding the matter is also the only one
which can be approved by geology. Whilst the terrestrial
creation now subsists by the equilibrium of the produc-
tions of the animal and vegetable kingdom, manifestly the
first foundation-stone of organic nature could only be laid
by such beings as contained this equilibrium in themselves,
and accordingly stood still at the point of indifference be-
tween animal and vegetable. One of the most important
of these wonderful beings, to which the history of this earth
appears to owe the whole chalk formation, has been dragged
to light by recent explorations of the sea-depths, and been
called Bathybius. In what way this slimy gelatinous net
with interspersed protoplasmic nuclei filling up the sea-
bottom, and secreting little heaps of microscopic calca-
reous shells (Coccoliths) is fed and thrives in the absence
of every ray of light, is up to this time a riddle. Only
from such an insignificant commencement could the de-
velopment begin on different sides, in that marine animals
arose, which lived on these undifferentiated Protista (Po-
lyps, &c.), and as their counterpoise the first stages of de-
cided vegetable structures became possible. The more the
two kingdoms became peopled, the more were means of sub-
sistence placed at the disposal of the higher animal classes,
the more higher classes of vegetable could again exist on
the living and dead products of these animals, and the
evolution thus kept pace in the two kingdoms, as geology
teaches, whilst within each kingdom the lower grades gene-
rally always preceded the higher. From this one should,
however, draw the conclusion that vegetable kingdom and
animal kingdom are not subordinate, but co-ordinate de-
partments of creation, and that the animal kingdom, when
it holds itself entitled to take rank above the vegetable
kingdom in virtue of the higher development of conscious-
mess, owes this power entirely to the pre-eminence of the
latter in organic reference, since the latter forms for it the
METAPHYSIC OF THE UNCONSCIOUS. I4 I
materials, to the leisurely consumption of which it owes
its own higher consciousness. If, now, the consumption
of material, which is formed in foreign organisms, suffices
to define the action of parasitism (for the dwelling of the
parasite is indifferent, as, for example, the chamber-bug),
the animal kingdom as a whole may be called a parasite
of the vegetable kingdom. In this respect the animal
kingdom resembles the great class of fungi, which, al-
though, according to morphological analogies, hitherto
reckoned to plants, yet can only be termed vegetable para-
sites. There are wanting to them, namely, the vegetable
“ philosopher's stone,” the arcanum, by whose help the
vegetable converts inorganic matter into organic chloro-
phyll, and they are therefore just as much as the animal
kingdom consigned to the consumption of ready-formed
organic matter.
This contrast of formation and consumption is now,
however, not to be taken so strictly, as if the plant merely
produced, the animal merely consumed, rather do we see
in every animal also processes partly of the higher elabo-
ration of received material (e.g., the formation of cerebral
fats), partly of the conversion of the same without relapse,
partly of decomposition and recomposition in the course
of the process of digestion and assimilation. On the other
hand, we see in every plant a consumption here and there
of the products, which it has itself formed at other places
(we have only to think of the processes of retrogression in
flowers, their inspiration of oxygen and excretion of car-
bonic acid). In yeast, fungi, and some other unicellular
plants, we even find a remarkable ambiguity of such
a kind, that they are able to take up, indeed, the nitrogen
requisite for their organic production from ammonia, the
carbon, however, only from higher ternary combinations.
There can, accordingly, on both sides be a dispute only of a
more or less; every animalisin part of vegetable, every plant,
in part, of animal nature; where one side clearly dominates
the other, we rightly term the whole according to that
I42 PHILOSOPHY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS.
side; but where both are in tolerable equipoise, a one-
sided designation is difficult—nay, even inadmissible.
We can now also find it no longer wonderful, if one
and the same being exhibits for one part of its life an
eminently vegetable, during another part an eminently
animal nature. There is no greater metamorphosis at
those stages near the point of indifference, than that of
insects, frogs, or fishes. Certainly, whoever regards
animals as animated organisms, but plants as merely
empty soulless husks, such an one must be brought to
despair by that fluctuation of the boundary of the two
kingdoms, and the harmless passing over from the one to
the other. We shall, however, see in these facts, in con-
junction with the previous considerations of this chapter,
only one more proof that plant and animal have much
more in common than our age is accustomed to suppose.
As concerns the external general form, plants lose at
lower stages their foliate type, and assume simply articu-
lated, or rotundate, more or less enclosed forms (e.g., Con-
fervae, Fungi). On the other hand one finds striking
similarities with higher vegetable forms among the lower
animals. “Some (coral animals) grow as leaves rolled one
over another, like a cabbage-head, others consist of deli-
cate, crisp, irregularly arranged leaflets. The surface of
every leaf is covered by polyp-blossoms, by whose growth
and secretion it has arisen. Not less may we detect
resemblances with an oak or acanthus twig, with fungi,
mosses, and lichens” (Dana in Schleiden's and Froriep's
Not., 1847, June No. 48).
The chemical substances can certainly not establish a
difference. Linnaeus thought we must regard several cal-
careous marine plants, such as corallines, as animals, just
because he regarded the formation of chalk as a monopoly
of the animal kingdom. Silicious coats of mail are found
both in vegetable (Diatomaceae) as in animal (Infusoria)
organisms. The similarity of the vegetable and animal
proteids is well known; the Fungi especially are rich in
METAPHYSIC OF THE UNCONSCIO US. I43
animal-like compounds; in the mantle of the Ascidians
and other Salpae-like Tunicata is found ligneous fibre ;
chlorophyll (leaf - green) has been proved to exist in
Turbellariae (rotifers) and in Infusoria.
Often different species of a genus were reckoned partly
to the vegetable kingdom, partly to the animal kingdom,
e.g., the species of Alcyonium are all in the main of so
similar a nature, that Linnaeus certainly was not wrong
in including them in one genus. Nevertheless, some
of them are the not inaptly named Animalia ambigua.
(according to Pallas), which accordingly are very well
ranked among the Amorphozoaria, e.g., Alcyonium cidaris
(Donati), cydonium (Leba), and ficiforme (Sotander, Ellis,
and Marsigli). Others were generally reckoned to the
vegetable world, thus, especially, e.g., several specimens of
the synonymous genus Peziza, so rich in species. In yet
others not only the animal, but even the polyp nature is
so decidedly evinced, that they have been separated from
the Sponges and ranked among the Polypifera at the
same time with the addition of a second generic name, so
that Lobularia digitata, palmata, and arborea, from the
Alcyonaria of the animal corals, are synonymous with Alcy-
onium lobatum, palmatum, and arboreum. The primaeval
species Manon peziza is compounded of an animal and a
plant name. Here we find only phenomena from other
departments of the animal kingdom again, where, e.g.,
some rotifers are reckoned to the worms, others to the
infusoria, a species Cercaria to the worms, other species
of the same genus to the spermatozoids (?)
The Small vesicles of which the red-colouring matter
of snow consists (Protococcus nivalis), were regarded by
Agardh, Decandolle, Hooker, Unger, Martin, Harvey,
Ehrenberg, as Algae; the latter Sowed them even on fresh
Snow and observed their propagation; the tiny young
plants bore a finely-grained, lobed receptacle and rootlets,
but no trace of animal character. Voigt and Meyen
Subsequently found, that the red-colouring matter pre-
I44. PHILOSOPHY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS.
sented rather the form and movement of infusoria, and
Shuttleworth finally distinguished therein partly Algae,
partly Infusoria. These contradictions are cleared up by
Plotow's careful observations on a quite allied little plant
or animal (Haematococcus pluvialis) living in rain-water.
This showed at first merely a vegetable nature, was con-
verted however in infusions under suitable circumstances
by different intermediate steps clearly traceable, into an
infusory animalcule (Astasia pluvialis) with proboscidiform,
sometimes even furcate feelers and all the signs of inde-
pendent movement. Shuttleworth's Astasia nivalis showed
itself related in red snow. Kützing (“On the Metamor-
phosis of Infusoria into the lower forms of Algae, Nord-
hausen 1844”) observed, that the infusorium Chlamido-
monas pulvisculus changed many times, e.g., into a decided
species of Algae, Stygeolconium, Stellare, and into other
formations of an algous character, which certainly in
form partially resembled sedentary forms of infusoria
(Tetraspora lubrica or gelatinosa, Palmella botryoides, species
of Protococcus and Gyges). The same asserts the conversion
of the infusorium Enchelys pulvisculus into a Protococcus
and finally into an Oscillatoria. In a whole series of algae
(Zoospermae) and yet other lower plants (Fungi, Star-jelly),
the germinal granules, Spores or sporidia have an infuso-
rian-like form, and move by means of cilia or whip-
shaped organs, and there are even certain forms among
them, which Ehrenberg recognised as infusoria. An alto-
gether similar state of things is observed in the embryos
of many polyps and Medusae, they too go through a
period, in which by means of cilia they produce a simul-
taneous rotatory and progressive movement, before they
settle themselves for further evolution, they have also the
form of infusoria and no mouth. Unger (“The Plant in
the Moment of becoming Animal”) observed of the
sporidia of a small Alga (Vaucheria clavata, or Ectosperma
clavata), that, when liberated from the mother cell, they at
first raise themselves in the water and revolve several
METAPHYSIC OF THE UNCONSCIOUS. ‘I45
times in quick movement similar to an infusorium, that
then moments of repose arbitrarily alternate with move-
ment, and that they carefully avoid all obstacles in the
most surprising manner, wind themselves extremely
cleverly through the threads of the Vaucheria, and always
avoid each other in such a way that two never collide.
The emission of mucilaginous filaments indistinctly
formed and again coalescing, which is characteristic of
many kinds of inferior animals, is also found in certain
plants (Myzomycetes).-A small thread-like species of Algae
exhibits, as long as it actively vegetates, a threefold move-
ment—an alternating slight curvature of the anterior fila-
ment, a half-pendulous, self-elastic, to-and-fro bending of
the anterior half, and a gradual advance. “These move-
ments have something strange, I might say uncanny, about
them” (Schleiden, Grundzüge, ii. 549). The Oscillatoriae
and the Zoospores of several kinds of algae (e.g., Vaucheria.
sessilis) move just like polyps to the illuminated part of
the vessel; other Zoospores (e.g., of Ulothria: Speciosa) flee
from the same, yet others (those of the families of Ste-
phanosaura) avoid both intense illumination and darkness,
and collect at semi-dark places.—Pandorine, an Alga
living in fresh-water pools, affords an example of the
family of the Volvocineae; it consists of sixteen pyramidal
cells, which, with their bases turned outwards, form by their
close attachment to one another an ovate collective body.
Every cell has at its base a colourless spot on which rest
several cilia, by means of which the Organism swims about.
From this mobility its animal nature was for a long time
inferred, and Ehrenberg called the red pigment granule
found beside each ciliated part, an eye.
We see that all the marks which have been set up
on different sides as decisive do not hold, such as partial
or total locomotion, spontaneous movement, morphological
and chemical differences, mouth and stomach. As con-
cerns the oral aperture, it is in the sea-blubber (Rhizos-
toma Cuvieri), a Medusa of the Mediterranean one to two
WOL. II, K
I46 PHILOSOPHY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS.
feet in diameter, replaced by numerous openings and
canals in its eight arms; further, a mouth is entirely
wanting in many intestinal worms, Cercariae, infusoria,
and embryos; the Gregarinae, which are found in abund- .
ance as parasites in the digestive canals of insects and
other animals, have not only no oral aperture, but also no
cilia—no visible organs at all; they are simply cells with
visible nuclei. To speak of a stomach where the mouth
is wanting is without meaning, for then we may call the
interior of every cell its stomach.
These statements may suffice to justify the previous
general remarks.--What is now contributed by this exa-
mination to the solution of the question regarding the
consciousness of plants is as follows:—We have seen that
plant and animal have something distinct, somewhat in
common, and that we may fairly well collect the total of
the common characters, if in both kingdoms we descend
so far down the scale of organisation, until we come to
those structures where the differences disappear, and essen-
tially only the common element remains. If we now find
that in this common element Sensation and consciousness is .
still included, that thus the lowest vegetable organisms
possess sensation and consciousness, we shall look round
for the material conditions to which here sensation and
consciousness appear to be linked; and supposing these
material conditions are fulfilled in higher plants in the
same or still higher degree, we shall consider ourselves
'warranted in ascribing also to the higher plants a similar,
but higher, measure of Sensation and consciousness to that
which we may suppose to exist in those lower ones. Since
we do not directly know how the plant feels, but only how
we ourselves feel, we descend the animal scale guided by
analogy, turn round again at the indifference-point of
animal and plant, which forms the connecting link between
the two kingdoms, and likewise under the guidance of
analogy ascend the scale of plants.
JFurther, we call to mind the result of the conclusion of
METAPHYSIC OF THE UNCONSCIOUS. I47
the first introductory chapter and of C. Chap. iii., accord-
ing to which each sensation excited by material movement,
as soon as it at all arises, also arises consciously, whilst if
the material movement lies below the threshold of stimu-
lation, not only no conscious, but altogether no sensation
at all comes to pass. So far then as we can trace signs of
a sensation excited by material stimuli, so far shall we also
be obliged to regard sensation as conscious, and thus must
allow the existence of a consciousness, no matter how
barren its content may be,
We must here recur once more to the already frequently
repelled prejudice (comp. A. Chap. vii. I. a., vol. i. pp. I73,
174), according to which nerves are the conditio Sine qua non
of sensation. That on this globe, and up to this time, they
are the form of matter most suited to the production of
sensation is certainly not to be doubted. It by no means,
however, follows from that that they are the sole form;
on the contrary, a multitude of facts prove that other
forms may be substituted for them. The tactile papillae
in the epidermis are found at several parts of the body at
tolerably wide intervals (as the sizes of the ellipses prove,
within which two contacts are felt as one). Nevertheless
every spot of the skin is alike sensitive, even to thermal
and chemical stimuli, where the mere propagation of
mechanical pressure or conduction of heat is excluded.
Burdach states that even nerveless parts of the human
body may become sensitive as soon as, with increased
blood-pressure and loosening of the tissue, their vitality
is increased; so that, e.g., the new flesh formed in heal-
ing wounds may be highly sensitive without any nerves,
and an inflammation of the nerveless cartilage and
kidneys may be even much more painful than an inflam-
mation of the nerves themselves. Wundt shows (Beiträge,
pp. 392–395) that these pains are always accompanied
by specific Organic sensations. Here certainly the pain
of which the man is conscious is localised only in the
brain, but the nerve-like function of those parts is
I48 PHILOSOPHY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS,
thereby proved, i.e., their capacity to propagate currents
of molecular vibrations which are similar to those in
nerves. Where, however, forms of vibration exist simi-
lar to those of the nerves, they will also excite Sensations
which are similar to those excited by nerves, supposing
that they do not lie beneath the threshold of stimula-
tion. The latter is in no case to be assumed, since
the part reaching the brain after so great a resistance
causes still so many violent pains. Further, we have
often seen the mind act on the body without nerves; e.g.,
in the embryonic states before elaboration of the nerves,
in the action of the nerves beyond their own limits in
muscles, secreting glands, everywhere where the mass of
the organs concerned must themselves undertake the last
portion of the conduction, in the sudden turning grey of
the hair after emotion, &c. But now, if the mind can act
upon the body even without or beyond the nerves, yet in
the thoroughgoing reciprocal action of the relation of body
and mind, the body also, without or beyond the nerves,
can act upon the mind, i.e., evoke sensation.
Then it is almost certain that the lowest animals (polyps,
infusoria, several intestinal worms) have no nerves, for
nerves and muscles go everywhere hand in hand; and
according to Dujardin and Ecker they have no muscles at
all: in place of muscular fibrine and nerve matter, only
the fibroine of Mulder is found in them. This substance
comports itself pretty much as the neoplasm of wounds,
and is therefore at the present time generally called pro-
toplasm. It is becoming continually clearer that the
proper support of life is in every cell its protoplasm, and
that the protoplasm of the cells of the grey matter of the
brain, mediating the highest functions of thought, is alto-
gether not different in type, but only in degree, from the pro-
toplasm of the lowest organisms. This nitrogenous, albu-
minous substance, called protoplasm, is thus the special
substance in which the organic and motor acts of will
of the animal mind operate in conformity with its ends;
METAPHYSIC OF THE UNCONSCIOUS. I49
in it alone can we therefore look for that constitution of
organic matter, which is adapted and able to allow material
effects to directly influence the mind.
Add to that the relatively high psychical manifestations
of these animals; for the fresh-water polyp distinguishes,
even at the distance of a few lines, a living infusorium,
a vegetable, a dead and an inorganic object. Of all these
he only draws to himself the first mentioned by a whirl-
pool created by his arms, whilst he does not trouble about
the others; or if he by chance grasps one of them, he
immediately lets it go again. The polyp must thus, in-
deed, have different perceptions of these different things,
and these can only be given as sensations above the thres-
hold, i.e., as conscious Sensations. Further, it moves out
of the shadow towards the part of the vessel illuminated
by the Sun, and often two polyps struggle over their prey.
The latter is only possible if the polyp possesses the con-
sciousness that the other will deprive him of his booty.
If, then, a nerveless animal displays such high manifesta-
tions of consciousness, we should not be surprised to find
manifestations of consciousness at the next lower grade
of the infusoria, and its many lower plants at the same
level. This,however, one would hardly venture to maintain,
that with the penultimate animal grade sensation and con-
sciousness ceases; for why precisely at the penultimate,
which yet exhibits so rich a content of consciousness that
indefinitely many poorer stages can be imagined before com-
plete disappearance, to which nothing in the world would
correspond except just those infusoria and simple plants 2
In fact, however, a more exact observation of the lowest
animal genera of all renders evident quite distinct percep-
tions, as follows from the appropriate use of the given (per-
ceived) circumstances for the vital purposes of the animal.
I need only mention the manifestly voluntary movements
of Arcella. Vulgaris by means of appropriately developed
air-bubbles (in Vol. i. pp. 93–95).
What makes the protoplasm of nerves so well adapted
I 50 PHILOSOPHY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS,
both for mediating the execution of acts of will and for the
production of sensations is the semi-fluid consistency of the
whole mass, which furthers the displacement and rotation
of the molecules, and the polar nature of the individual
molecule, which has a high degree of chemical organisa-
tion of matter for its condition. The former is equally
well shown by the protoplasm of lower animals and
plants. In every cell there is to be made out at least a
fluid content and a solid wall, commonly also a nucleus;
both the nucleus, or at any rate its environment, as well
as the boundary of wall and content, frequently, however,
the whole content of the cell, exhibit this semi-fluid con-
sistency of high chemical organisation, from which physical
and chemical elements one may conclude with probability
to a polar constitution of the molecules, if also in a less
degree than in nerves, and of the central ganglion cells,
which likewise consist of nucleus, wall, and content, espe-
cially if one takes note of the phenomena of contraction of
all animal and vegetable protoplasm after electrical stimula-
tion. These conditions, however, recur in all properly living
parts of higher plants, probably even in heightened forms,
since the chemical organisation of matter manifestly in-
creases in higher organisms, but in no case sinks. But
quite specially vegetable protoplasm, which, as we have
seen, brings to pass the quick reflex movements of the
higher plants, shows apparently a perfect identity with
the protoplasm of the Protista and lowest animals, as is
proved by the same behaviour with respect to the most
different stimuli and narcotics. This protoplasm has,
however, also in higher animals a very wide distribution;
and if attention was at first turned to its vital action by
those examples, where its movements achieve results which
become visible and startling even to the naked eye, at the
present moment vegetable physiology already studies with
zeal the movements of protoplasm going on within the
cells on the irritation of light, heat, and other stimuli,
which manifestly stand in the closest relation to the life
METAPHYSIC OF THE UNCONSCIOUS. 151
and propagation of the cells." There is thus quite certainly
no ground for the assertion that the sensation and the
consciousness of higher plants stand below that of the
lowest plants and animals; on the contrary, we may pre-
sume that, although the total and partial mobility of plants
of higher forms decreases in conformity with their vital
conditions, the sensations, at least in certain privileged
parts, rank above that of the lower plants.
The lower we descend in the animal scale, the more
does the importance of the sensations related to diges-
tion and the genital region increase in comparison with
those arising from Outer stimuli. In plants where the
surface is more and more secluded from the insignificant
external stimuli, this augmentation will go still further.
IFor the plant, the outer world, except light and the
chemical constitution of the atmosphere, is continually
losing all interest, and we only owe to special cases the
knowledge that also higher plants take notice of certain
events which obtain for them importance, e.g., the plants
which capture insects, of stimuli which affect the leaves,
the climbers of supports, &c.
After the foregoing it will no longer surprise us if we
attribute to plants a sensation (and of course conscious
sensation) of the stimuli on which they, whether reflec-
torially or instinctively, react; if we assert that the
* As in lower animals (e.g., Amoe- better of hibernation. As certain
bae), so also in the protoplasm of
living vegetable cells, there are to
be distinguished a state of activity
and another of perfect rest, which
may alternate with one another
even several times. Although both
states uniformly belong to life, yet
only in the former does there ap-
pear to be present a distinct sen-
sibility, whereas there is in the latter
a lowering of irritability, which re-
sembles the anaesthesia of proto-
plasm brought about by narcotic
vapours, and perhaps forms an
analogue of animal sleep, or still
infusoria, after a period of active
vitality, enter upon a period of in-
crustation, so also do many vegetable
cells that at maturity surround them-
selves with a thicker cell-wall, which
cell-wall may even remain after
their death (e.g., ligneous cells).
The acme of sensibility in every
vegetable cell one must therefore
only seek in a particular, some-
times perhaps very short, epoch of
their life, which forms the culmi-
nating point of their vital activity,
and accordingly for the most part
falls into their youthful period.
152 PHILOSOPHY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS.
Oscillatoria as well as the polyp feels light if it wanders
towards the illuminated part of its vessel, and that just
in the same way the vine-leaf feels the light, to which it
endeavours by all means to turn its right side, and every
flower feels the light, to which it on expanding turns its
tiny head. We maintain that the leaf of the Dionaba and of
the Mimosa pwdica feels the struggling of the insect before
it reacts on this sensation by folding up; for it lies indeed
in the notion of reflex action, as a psychical reaction, that
a psychical perception must precede the same. This is,
however, conscious Sensation. We further maintain that
the plant has a sensation of the physical events of the
organisation which answer to animal digestion and of
sexual life; that the latter especially takes place in parts
where the higher vitality of vegetable existence is con-
centrated, where the plastic activity during flowering
time effects no longer compounding, but decompounding
chemical processes (as the inhaling of oxygen and exhal-
ing of carbonic acid of the flowers proves); whence it fol-
lows that here the formative forces have withdrawn from
material construction into a certain animal-like internali-
sation, and become disposable for more receptive processes.
That the content of this consciousness must always be
still very poor, much poorer, e.g., than that of the wretch-
edest worm, hardly admits of doubt; for whence should
wealth and definiteness come, such as is afforded the
animals through the lowest sense-organs ?
We have thus, in fact, found consciousness in the plant.
Eut now how far can a UNITY of consciousness exist in
the plant —We have seen that the unity of the con-
sciousness of two ideas or Sensations depends on the pos-
sibility of comparison, and this on the presence of a suffi-
cient communication between the two places producing
sensation. The question then is this : Does such a com-
munication exist in the plant 2 Already in the animal
the converse between different nerve-centres, although
mediated by nerve-cords, was exceedingly deficient.
METAPHYSIC OF THE UNCONSCIOUS. I 53
and the unity of consciousness in fact only extant for
very energetic excitements. The velocity of propaga-
tion of the nerve-current in man, according to Helmholtz,
amounts to about a hundred feet in a second ; that in the
Mimosa pudica, as before mentioned, only to a few milli-
meters. One can draw from these velocities a tolerable
conclusion as to the resistances to conduction, and accord-
ingly to the disturbances and changes of the propagated
results. It is possible that the spiral vessels serve such
purposes of communication, but it is not proven. At all
events, with regard to the unity of consciousness of two
neighbouring anthers, the connection must be infinitely
weaker than with that of brain and ganglia in man. A
sufficiently faithful and strong conduction will always
only be able to exist between the parts lying quite near to
one another. I would not affirm that one is at liberty to
speak of the indivisible consciousness of a flower, hardly
perhaps of that of a stamen. The plant does not, how-
ever, need such a unity of consciousness as the animal; it
needs to institute no comparisons, and does not need to
reflect on its actions. It needs only surrender itself to the
single sensations, and let the same serve as motives for
the incursions of the Unconscious. Then have these
fulfilled their purpose; and this is accomplished just as
well by sensations with separate consciousness as by those
with one indivisible consciousness.
V.
MATTER AS WILL AND IDEA.
PHYSICAL science is concerned with three inter-connected
objects: laws, forces, and matter. This division is entirely
deserving of approval, for it summarily embraces different
groups of phenomena under single points of view and
facilitates expression. The question now is, whether these
three are really of different nature; or whether, strictly
speaking, they are only one, which, looked at merely from
different points of view, appears in three different modes?
Of the laws this may well be allowed without discussion,
for it is obvious that they are not existences hovering in
the air, but mere abstractions of forces and substances.
Only because this force and this matter are so and so, only
on that account do they act in a particular manner; and
as often as we meet with such a force, we must find it
acting in just such a way. This constancy of the so-
acting, however, it is which we call Law. This relation
is also pretty generally acknowledged, and we hear, in
fact, materialists always speak of force and matter as
their principia, as something which of course includes
laws. We have in C. Chap. ii. defended Materialism,
so far as it maintains organised matter to be the conditio
sine qua non of conscious mental activity; we have in the
preceding inquiries established an unconscious psychical
principle as Superior to matter, and thereby already shown
the one-sidedness of that Materialism which knows no
other than material principles. We have now arrived at
the point where we must occupy Ourselves with that,
METAPHYSIC OF THE UNCONSCIO US. I55
which this one-sided Materialism sets up as exclusive
principles of all existence, i.e., as philosophical first prin-
ciples, force and matter."
I should consider it useless to enter here into a dialectical
discussion of these conceptions; one would thereby neither
be sure of actually treating of precisely the same notion
as Materialism, nor would a materialist ever be induced
to change his opinion by such a method. I hold the deep-
ening of the natural scientific investigation of matter to be
the only suitable course. It is true the future may yet
bring inestimable light in this direction which we have
not hitherto suspected, yet I believe that the outlines of
the only possible mode of apprehending Matter are not only
rendered so certain by the most recent results of physics
and chemistry that no time will ever shake them, but that
they offer also perfectly satisfactory resting-places for
penetrating into the last depths of this mystery. If this
* As we shall see that force is
only a pseudo-materialistic, but in
fact a spiritualistic principle, the
consequential Materialism, which,
however, has been nowhere advo-
cated in this form, should before
all things deny force, i.e., regard
Motion as an ultimate, requiring
no explanation, as an etermal and
original quality of matter. The
circumstance that many derivative
forces (as magnetic attraction or re-
pulsion between wires traversed by
galvanic currents) are, in fact, only
results of peculiar combinations of
movement, might seduce us to go
farther on this road, and to try,
whether also the elementary forces
of the general attraction of masses
(gravitation) and of repulsion in
ether could be explained as results
of the forms of movement. For this
purpose the ether is first of all
denied, and a filling of space with
very rarefied gases supposed; then
repulsion is regarded as a result of
heat-vibrations, and finally gravita-
tion is sought to be explained either
according to the analogy of the attrac-
tion of galvanic currents as a bye-
product of transverse (heat or other)
vibrations, or as a phenomenon result-
ing from the repulsion of peripheral
strata. (In both cases, certainly,
gravitation would not be propor-
tional to the mass of a body, but
to its plane of intersection at right
angles to the direction of gravita-
tion.) The whole theory is still too
much in an embryonic condition to
admit of criticism. Only this much
stands firm, that matter, with all its
contradictions, to be pointed out
farther on, is here indispensable,
since possibly force, but not motion
itself, may be the mobile, and that
accordingly this theory stops at
two incomprehensible principles,
matter and motion ; whilst we get
along with force alone, which is
free from the contradictions of
matter, and is itself again not an
incomprehensible ultimate, but re-
solvable into the spiritual principles
will and idea ; thus in this manner
closely joins the material world
with the spiritual as consubstan-
tial.
I 56 PHILOSOPHY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS.
has not been the case hitherto, or at least not yet on the
part of physical Science, the reason simply is that physical
science has at bottom always only so far an interest in
hypotheses as the latter either afford it guidance to new
experiments, or as they are indispensable for the applica-
tion of the calculus: in what goes beyond that it sees
no practical value, and therefore is indifferent to it. We
shall thus have first to recapitulate what physical science
knows of the constitution of matter, and the forces inher-
ing therein, and then see whether these results are capable
of being fathomed in a simple and unforced way.
If we imagine a chemically homogeneous body, e.g.,
chalk, continuously divided, we arrive at parts of a certain
size which cannot be further divided if they are to remain
chalk ; if we succeed in splitting them up, we get as
separate portions one part carbonic acid and one part
lime. These smallest parts of a body are called molecules."
These act in different directions with different force, be-
cause they have in general the crystalline ground-form of
the particular chemical substance, or such an one from
which this can be easily formed. The molecules of different
substances are thus distinguished by different forms, also,
moreover, by different weight (molecular weight); on the
other hand, in their grouping into bodies in the gaseous
state they fill equal spaces with equal temperature. If
two bodies of different kinds come together, the forces of
the molecules differently active in different directions,
mutually disturb one another at the borders of both
1 Not to be confused with atoms,
as is done by the older physicists.
Bhilosophical readers who come to
this chapter with a certain prejudice
against the physical atomic theory,
I refer to Fechner's memoir “On
the Physical and Philosophical
Atomic Theory” (Leipzig, 1855),
especially pp. 18–63 and I29-141,
although since then the physical
atomic theory has been very much
further developed by the working
out of the Theory of Heat. Comp.,
in reference to the present chapter,
my essay, “Dynamism and Atomism
(Kant, Ulrici, Fechner),” in the
Ges. Phil. Abland.h., No. vii.-In
this place only this much need be
remarked by way of preliminary,
that the splitting up into atoms in
a metaphysical sense represents no-
thing else than the special form in
which, in the department of matter,
the general philosophical principle
of Individuation obtains its realisa-
tion.
METAPHYSIC OF THE UNCONSCIOUS. I 57
bodies in their conditions of equilibrium, which disturb-
ances are presented as electrical excitement, or are pro-
pagated as galvanic vibrations; if the disturbance is suffi-
ciently strong, a permanent rearrangement and chemical
union of the different molecules into more compound mole-
cules takes place. The various chemical compounds are
distinguished by the number and position of the combin-
ing molecules. Those molecules which we have not as
yet succeeded in decomposing we call chemically simple,
although we know with tolerable certainty of several that
they are compound (e.g., iodine, bromine, chlorine are pos-
sibly combinations of oxygen, as the change of their spectra
at very high temperatures appears to indicate; the metals
perhaps are all combinations of hydrogen), so that possibly
the number of chemical elements may be very much
simplified. Moreover, modern chemistry distinguishes the
elementary molecules according to their behaviour in
chemical combinations into univalent and multivalent
molecules, and conceives the latter as compounds of several
equivalent parts, each of which is chemically equivalent
to a univalent molecule. It calls these parts atoms, and
their relative weights atomic weights. But already this
difference of weight proves that even these chemical atoms
can just as little be the ultimate elements of matter as the
chemical molecules in their manifold morphological funda-
mental forms. The simple numerical relations of the atomic
weights permit us to conclude that all these parts of matter
are in the last resort only different dispositions of a varied
number of homogeneous primitive elements or primitive
atoms, as only in this way does the agreement of the atomic
weights with the specific heat and that of the molecular
weight with the specific weight of gases appear intelli-
gible. These homogeneous primitive atoms, which I shall
immediately call without ceremony atomic bodies, must
act in all directions with equal force, and can thus, if they
are to be conceived as material, only be imagined spherical.
Besides these body-atoms there are ether-atoms, which
158 PHILOSOPHY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS.
are distributed both in every body between the corporeal
molecules and also between the heavenly bodies, and
which are perceived by their property of radiating heat.
(A certain part of the thermal scale is, owing to the
structure of our eyes, only perceived by us as light.)
The ethereal atoms it is which, as environing envelopes of
the corporeal molecules, produce electrical phenomena, and
by revolution of the corporeal molecules (Ampère's mole-
cular current) magnetic phenomena; further, it is these
which, in the mutual rebound of the molecule of a gas, cause
the elastic repulsion; in short, they are a hypothesis which
is nowhere to be dispensed with when manifestations of
energy are to be explained, in which, besides attraction
according to the Newtonian law of gravitation, repellent
forces also play a part. -
Bodies and corporeal atoms attract one another, and
that too in the inverse square of their distance; i.e., the
force of a corporeal atom, in all directions of space taken
together, remains equal at all distances.
|Bther and ethereal atoms repel one another, and that
too in the inverse ratio of a higher than the second power
of the distance, the third at least; i.e., the force of an
ethereal atom, in all directions of space taken together,
increases at least inversely as the distance." All body-
atoms would converge to a point if the environing ether-
atoms did not form, as it were, envelopes round every
material molecule, preventing actual contact. Two ether-
atoms can never collide, because their repulsion at infinitely
small distances becomes infinitely great. Two body-atoms,
however, could never separate again, supposing they once
touched, because then their attraction would be infinitely
great. Therefore the corporeal molecules must also be
1. According to Briot (Lehrb. d.
mechan. Wärmetheorie, p. 271), the
doubtful power of the distance must
be even higher than the fourth, if
the transversal light-vibrations are
to propagate themselves in the me-
dium of the ether ; and it follows
from the laws of the propagation of
light in doubly-refracting media, as
from the absence of dispersion in
empty space, that it is probably the
sixth power of the distance to which
the repulsion of the ethereal atoms
is inversely proportional.
METAPHYSIC OF THE UNCONSCIOUS. I 59
kept asunder within the chemical combinations by ether-
atoms, because they can again be separated by ethereal
vibrations (heat, electricity).
Body and ether atoms probably repel one another at
molecular distances. It used to be assumed that they
attracted one another at the Ordinary molecular distances,
and that this attraction was only converted into repulsion
in the most immediate vicinity; this supposition is also
still the common one in the elementary manuals. Up to
a certain point, the phenomena are equally well explained
by either of the hypotheses; but since, for the sake of cal-
culation, a decision must be made in favour of one, attrac-
tion was accidentally chosen. Wiener has shown (comp.
Poggendorff’s “Amalen,” vol. cxviii. p. 79, and Wiener,
“Die Grundzüge der Weltordnung,” first book) that the
hypothesis of repulsion offers essential advantages for the
explanation of the fluid state of aggregation, and that this
generally agrees better with our other physical views.
There is, according to this supposition, not as in Redten-
bacher’s “System of Dynamids,” a thick envelope of ether-
atoms about every material molecule, but, on the contrary,
the ether is thinnest in the immediate neighbourhood of
the corporeal molecules, accordingly thinner within the
body than in empty space, because the densely packed
corporeal molecules partially repel the ether. As we shall
See later on that at all events attraction takes place at
greater distances between body and ether atoms, the
difference of the two opposed views in strictness only con-
sists of a divergence in respect of the magnitude of that
distance where attraction is converted into repulsion; and,
moreover, according to both views, this distance must be
so small that it must be designated molecular distance.
The atomic theory, in the present phase of its develop-
ment, explains in a surprising way the laws of heat and
the different states of aggregation induced by changes
of heat (see Wiener, “Grundzüge der Weltordnung,” first
book; and for a more mathematical treatment, Ch. Briot,
160 PHILOSOPHY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS.
“Lehrbuch der mechanischen Wärmetheorie”). It has
the advantage of representing all the many so-called forces
of matter, as gravitation, elasticity, heat, galvanism, che-
mistry, &c., as manifestations of molecular and atomic
forces—i.e., that one also actually sees and calculates
the evolution of the one from the other, whereas that
Dynamism, which, like the Kantian, will know nothing
of atoms and atomic forces, only merely asserts the origin
of the higher material forces from attraction and repulsion,
but cannot in the least say how it comes to pass.- -
There still remains one material force to be mentioned,
vis inertiae, of which Atomism has hitherto wrongly denied
that it comes under the conception of force, or which it
has treated as an additional force, whereas it might have
already learnt from Kant (“New System of Rest and
Motion,” comp. Kant's Werke, vol. v. pp. 282–284, 287–
289, and 409–417) what vis inertia is, namely, that it
depends simply and entirely on the reciprocity or relativity
of movement, which had been previously clearly stated by
Leibniz (Mathemat. Werke, vi. p. 252). To wit, if one
imagines an atom alone in space, the notion of rest or
motion cannot at all apply to the same, because it has
To definite place in Space; thus also cannot change this
place. There is, accordingly, no absolute, but only rela-
tive, rest and motion. It follows from that, that one
has no more right to say, A moves towards B, than B
moves towards A; the ball moves towards the target,
than the target moves towards the ball; that thus the
resistance which the target opposes to the ball is not
so much a resistance of the resting as of the moved
target, or its vis viva. What here in the case of impact
immediately strikes the eye takes place again in pushing
and pulling, only as an integration of infinitely numerous
single moments of repulsion or attraction of atoms and
molecules. In both cases the resistance of the vis inertiae
to be overcome depends on the reciprocity of attraction and
repulsion and the relativity of motion.
METAPHYSIC OF THE UNCONSCIOUS. I6r
To explain Inertia we thus, in fact, need, notwithstand-
ing that it itself acts as an opposing force, no new force;
we can get along perfectly well with the attraction and
repulsion of corporeal and ethereal atoms.-Let us now
see how, on closer inspection, the principles previously
adduced assume of themselves a simpler form.–
If we imagine two corporeal atoms, A and B, they would
even then still move towards one another if only A
possessed attractive power; for in that A attracts the
atom B, it necessarily, on account of the relativity of
motion, just as much moves towards B as it draws B
towards itself. The same holds good, however, for B.
Since now both A and also B possess attraction, each
of them produces the mutual approximation, thus their
actual attraction will be the sum of their individual
forces. The same holds good for the repulsion of ether-
atoms. But now curiously one and the same corporeal
atom is said to possess two opposite forces, namely,
energy of attraction for corporeal atoms, and repulsive
force for ether-atoms. An ether-atom has thus either a
corresponding special repulsive force for ether-atoms, and
a special repulsive force for corporeal atoms; or, however,
its repulsive force is equally great for corporeal and ether
atoms, i.e., one and the same. The latter supposition has
nothing against it ; it will therefore, as the simpler, in any
case deserve the preference, for principia nom Sunt multipli-
canda præter necessitatem. According to the latter assump-
tion, then, an ether-atom is similarly repellently related
to every other atom, no matter what other forces may
belong to this atom ; i.e., if a corporeal atom meets it, it
repels this just as much as an ether-atom, no matter how
great the force may be with which the corporeal atom
repels the ether-atom, as compared with the repulsive force
of an ether-atom. Of course the total mutual repulsion is
the sum of the two forces. But if the magnitude of the
repellent force of the corporeal atom is indifferent with
regard to the repulsive force of the ether-atom, it must
WOL. II. L
I62 PHILOSOPHY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS.
also be indifferent to it if this force becomes = 0, or if it
becomes negative, i.e., attractive, always supposing that the
total repulsion of the two is the sum of the single forces.
In the latter case the total result would remain repulsion,
as long as the repulsive force of the ether-atom is greater
than the attractive force of the corporeal atom; in the
converse case it would be attraction. But here with we
at Once get rid of the unnatural assumption of two
mutually contradictory forces in this corporeal atom; for
the repulsion between ethereal and corporeal atom remains
as such for all small distances, when the repulsion of
the former is stronger than the attraction of the
latter, and the body-atom is similarly related to every
other atom by attraction, just as the ether-atom is
repellently related to every other atom in the same
way. That, however, in fact, ethereal and corporeal atoms
do not repel one another at all, but only at Smaller, dis-
tances, seems to me evidently to result from the follow-
ing: The material system is unconditionally to be regarded
as finite, both from d priori considerations and on astro-
nomical grounds." The ether, however, must extend into
the infinite, if there be no limit, where the attraction of
all the corporeal atoms prevails over the repulsion of all
the ether atoms; a rotation of the system about one or
more axes (so far as such an one is at all conceivable
under the supposition of the relativity of motion) would
only strengthen the continual efflux of the ether-atoms
by centrifugal force; and even on the inadmissible as-
sumption of an infinite number of ether-atoms to a finite
number of corporeal atoms, the constant efflux of ether-
atoms in infinite space would induce a continuously in-
creasing rarefaction of the ether in the world-system, for
which there is nothing to be said.
Accordingly, if we are compelled by the finiteness of the
material world-System to assume a definite finite distance,
* Comp. Zöllner, “Ueber die Natur der Kometen,” 3 Aufl.
META PHYSIC OF THE UNCONSCIOUS. I63
where the repulsion of the ether-atom from the corporeal
atom is equal to the attraction of the corporeal atom to the
ether-atom, we immediately get what we want, namely,
that at less distances repulsion must prevail over attrac-
tion, since the repulsion of the ether-atom diminishes
much more quickly with diminution of the distance than
the attraction of the corporeal atom. However, then, one
may regard the matter, in every respect the simplest
assumption most recommends itself, that the corporeal
atom has only attractive force, the ether-atom only force
of repulsion, which is uniformly manifested towards both
kinds of atoms. At a particular distance (which mani-
festly must be determined by the magnitude of the
intended world) they are equal to one another; the
different law of their change with the distance causes
at greater distances attraction, at lesser repulsion increas-
ingly to predominate. At the distances at which they
exist between the molecules of a body, repulsion probably
immensely preponderates. This is, however, also necessary
if, according to the assumption of Wiener, the ether-atoms
are distributed within the body far more sparsely than in
empty space, and nevertheless must suffice to hold in
equilibrium, the mutual attraction of the so thickly packed
corporeal molecules.
Since, if one steers clear of the contradiction of an
already existing, i.e., completed infinity, the number of the
ether-atoms, as that of the corporeal atoms, must be finite,
we have no ground at all to assume that the number of
both is different ; we may, on the contrary, rather hold
them to be equal, since what the ether-atoms seem to
gain in greater distribution through space the corporeal
atoms acquire in density of cohesion. We have then for
every body-atom an ether-atom, which are distinguished,
apart from the law of their change of force with distance,
only by the positive and negative direction of their forces.
If one conceived every corporeal atom and every ethereal
atom fused together, all force would suddenly disappear
164 PHILOSOPHY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS.
from the world, for their antagonism would have been
meutralised. Thus we see here the Sundering into a polar
dualism to be the principle which produces the material
world.
Let us further inquire what we are to understand by
the mass of a body. We chiefly measure mass by weight.
As soon, however, as science reached the assumption of
the ether, which, because it has no attraction, can also
have no weight, it was necessary to take something else
instead of weight as the measure of mass, and, moreover,
somewhat that is common to ether and body; as such, only
vis inertiae is offered. But now, even if we can thus measure
mass, we still get no motion of mass unless we are content
to grasp it as the unknown substratum of equal persistent
forces. But assuredly no one is really satisfied with this.
Physical science explains mass to be the product of volume
and density, and this certainly leads to the mode in
which all unprejudiced thinking conceives the notion
of mass, provided that, in the explanation of density,
one avoids the circle and does not again employ the
notion of mass. Then is density only to be apprehended
as the keeping aSunder of equivalent particles. If, now,
the product of volume and density remain unchanged,
it is clear that this is only possible by the number of
equivalent particles remaining unchanged. We may then
define mass absolutely as the number of equivalent particles,
supposing that in all things to be compared we continue the
division until we everywhere come to equivalent particles.
It is immediately evident that only the original atoms
answer this requirement; but this they really do: even
the ethereal and corporeal atoms are to be regarded as
equivalent, since each ether-atom just as much repels each
body-atom as each ether-atom, and inversely; CODSG-
quently the reciprocity of their forces, i.e., their vis inertion,
is equal. We have, then, now to define the mass of a
thing as the number of its atoms, and herewith furnish
the only possible strictly scientific expression for that
METAPHYSIC OF THE UNCONSCIOUS. I65
which each one more or less clearly conceives by the word
'mass. It follows, however, directly from this, that there
is no longer any sense in talking of the mass of an atom,
for one would then have to imagine the same again de-
composed into equivalent parts, and thereby would get no
farther than one already is. One may possibly speak of
the mass of a molecule, for this just consists of atoms; one
may also say, by way of comparison, a corporeal molecule
is of very much greater mass than an ether-atom; but the
masses of two atoms cannot be compared, for each of them
is the mass-unit. Further, it would be conceivable that,
without interposed ether-atoms, n body-atoms should unite
into a single one, so as to become inseparable; then an
ether-atom would repel each of these united atoms with
a single, the compound with n-fold force, and the com-
pound would certainly have the mass m ; but just on
that account would it be erroneous to call it One atom
with n-fold mass; there always remains, so long as the
atoms are conceived as material, impenetrable balls, a com-
plex of n atoms.-For the rest, we have no occasion at all
to believe in the real existence of such direct fusions of
body-atoms, for it is to be assumed that the body-atoms
in the molecule of a so-called chemical element are just
as much kept asunder by ether-atoms as the molecules of
the chemical elements in the molecule of their chemical
compound, which last is proved by this, that they may
be again separated by ether-vibrations (heat, galvanism,
&c.) With respect to the great differences of the atomic
weights, we must also imagine the number of the body-
atoms united in an elementary molecule to be very great,
in conformity with the fact that often hundreds of ele-
mentary molecules are united in the molecule of a higher
organic combination.
The result of all this is, that the atom is the unit of
which every mass is composed, just as all numbers are
compounds of One ; that it is therefore just as sensible
to ask what is the mass of an atom as what is the num-
ber of unity.—
I66 PHILOSOPHY OF THE UNCONSCIO US.
We come now to the last and most difficult question :
Is the atom anything else but force 3 has the atom sub-
stance, and what are we to understand by this term 2–Let
us recall the way in which we arrived at the atom. As
children, we knock our heads and feel pain; we touch
things, and get visual and other impressions from them.
For these instinctively localised projected perceptions we
just as instinctively suppose causes which we call things.
We suppose things outside us which act upon us, but
especially that against which we push outside we call
matter or Substance. Science does not stop at this crude,
instinctively sensuous, and practically sufficing hypo-
thesis, but pursues the causes of our perceptions farther,
and examines them more carefully. It shows us that
visual perceptions are excited by ethereal vibrations, audi-
tory perceptions by aerial vibrations, olfactory and gusta-
tory perceptions by chemical vibrations in our sense-
organs; that thus all these perceptions by no means
concern a matter, but a motion, for whose explanation it
must again suppose forces, which in the last resort turn
out to be manifestations of combined molecular and atomic
forces. It shows us further that the foundation of all our
tactile perceptions, the so-called impenetrability of matter,
or the resistance which it opposes to foreign bodies in
attempting to approach beyond certain limits, may be
the result of the repulsion of the ether-atoms, which at
infinitely small distances become infinitely greater than
the attractive force of the corporeal atoms; that, how-
ever, a direct contact of the atoms, therefore an impenetra-
bility, not as consequence of force, but inhering in matter
as such, nowhere occurs at all. All the explanations which
physical Science gives or attempts to give rest on forces;
substance or matter remains thereby, at the most, a
spectre idly lurking in the background, which, however,
is always only able to assert itself at obscure places, where
the light of knowledge has not yet penetrated; the fur-
ther knowledge, i.e., the explanation of phenomena, spreads
METAPHYSIC OF THE UNCONSCIOUS. 167
its light, the more in the course of history does matter,
which in the naïve sensuous intuition still occupies the
whole outer space of perception, withdraw into the back-
ground.
Never, however, as far as physical Science reaches, or
will reach, can it require anything else than forces for its
explanation. On the contrary, where, at the present day,
it wants the word substance, it understands thereby, as by
matter, only a system of atomic forces, a dynamic System,
and only employs the words substance and matter as indis-
pensable summary signs or formulae for these systems of
forces.
As, now, scientific hypothesis should never extend far-
ther than the need of explanation requires, but the concept
Matter serves and can Serve no scientific need of expla-
nation, it follows from this that a concept Matter which
means anything else than a system of forces has no war-
rant and no place in physical science, since it has indeed
itself proved all that which sensuous apprehension calls
effects of matter to be effects of forces.
Undoubtedly nothing is more difficult than to free our-
selves from the immediate ideas of Sense, which we have
imbibed, as it were, with our mother's milk, which have
been instinctively laid hold of as first crude but practi-
cally sufficient hypotheses, and which by the habit of a
lifetime have become a part of ourselves. There is need of
industry,tranquillity, clearness, and force of thought to per-
ceive the prejudices of sense and other prejudices of thought
as such ; still more courage does it require to break for
good and all with that which has been once surmounted
in all its consequences; but even when one has done all
this, there is still required an almost superhuman energy
of intelligence and character never again to be prejudiced,
or at least secretly influenced, by what has been absolutely
discredited ; for there is no task more difficult than this,
to conquer for ourselves only a full, negative freedom of
thought. Precisely because the prejudices springing from
I68 PHILOSOPHY OF THE UN CONSCIOUS.
Sense are not conscious conclusions of the understanding,
but instinctive, practically sufficing suggestions, are they
so difficult to be destroyed and set aside by conscious
thought. One may say to oneself a thousand times that
the moon at the horizon has the same angular magnitude,
has the same apparent size, as high up in the sky; that
it is an error of the understanding to hold it to look
smaller up in the sky than down at the level—the same
error which does not allow the vault of heaven to appear
as hemisphere, but as flattened spheroid—all that cannot
bring a single individual to see the moon in both cases as
of equal magnitude, just because, in spite of better con-
scious knowledge, the instinctive assumption asserts itself.
Such an instinctive prejudice springing from sensibility
is Matter. No natural philosopher has, in his science,
anything to do with matter, except in so far as he decom-
poses it into forces, whereby accordingly the apparent
material effects turn out energies, i.e., matter is more and
more resolved into force. Thus, even at the present day,
few natural philosophers will be found who would grant
the final consequence of their own Science, that matter is
nothing but a system of forces; and the reason of this lies
simply in sensuous prejudice. One forgets that we indeed
just as little directly perceive matter as atoms, but only
its pressure, impact, vibrations, &c.; that this matter is
indeed also merely a hypothesis, which must justify itself
before the tribunal of physical science; but this justifica-
tion is not merely never forthcoming, but instead of it after
every inquiry instituted in any quarter whatsoever evapo-
rates into forces. This is forgotten because one accident-
ally knocks one's elbow, and instinctive sensibility shrieks
at once “Matter” into the reasoning—If, now, we seriously
attack such a prejudice, it tries to maintain itself with
Sophisms; the natural philosopher forgets the rules of his
method, and even advances d priori reasons in order only
to save his favourite prejudice.
But then we hear it exclaimed, “I cannot imagine force
METAPHYSIC OF THE UNCONSCIOUS. I69
without matter; force must have a substratum by which,
and an object on which, it acts, and just this is matter;
force without matter is a non-thing.”—Let us also con-
sider the d priori side of the speculation, after having
perceived that on the empirical side the hypothesis of a
Substance has no warrant.
In the first place, it may be asserted that man is so
organised that he may think everything which is not
self-contradictory, i.e., that he may unite all conceptions
given in words, provided that the meaning of the con-
ceptions is clearly and precisely given to him, and the
required combination contains no contradiction. The
above assertion says: “Force cannot be imagined in in-
dependent real existence, but only in indissoluble union
with matter.” Force is a clear conception, independent
real existence likewise; accordingly every sound under-
standing must be able to unite the two notions, unless this
combination contains an inherent contradiction. To prove
the latter would doubtless be difficult, consequently the first
part of the negative assertion is false. Properly understood,
the only question is: Is the combination thinkable 2 not
whether it really exists; otherwise the speculation would
be no longer & priori.-The second positive part of the pro-
position asserts “that force is to be conceived in union with
matter.” This part is just as false; one cannot think the
union of force and matter, because one cannot think matter,
for all conception is wanting to this word. Let us go
through the different meanings which might possibly be
ascribed to the word. The sensuous meaning is, it is true,
quite definite: cause of felt resistance; but it is resolved
into repulsive atomic forces, and can thus not be opposed to
the notion Force. The notion Mass, which, in a perverse
fashion, might be subsumed under the notion matter, has
further above been decomposed into atomic force; of it,
accordingly, the like holds good; its confusion with matter
is, besides, only possible in respect of the crude sensuous
meaning of matter by means of the notion of density.
17o PHILOSOPHY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS.
The physical notion of impenetrability has likewise been
resolved into the infinitely great repulsive power of the
ether-atoms at infinitely little distances; and, moreover,
Only appertains to the repulsive ether-atoms and to bodies,
7.e., systems of dynamids, in virtue of the ether-atoms con-
tained therein, but not to the attractive corporeal atoms,
since it would not be apparent why, in fact, a perfect
interpenetration and blending should not take place
between two body-atoms which are not sundered by
ether-atoms. -
Finally, there still remains the meaning, “substratum
of force ; ” however, I must confess, to my misfortune,
that I am just as little able to think anything by sub-
stratum as by matter. Schelling says (“System of Trans-
cend. Idealism,” pp. 317, 318; Werke, i. 3, pp. 529, 530):
“Whoever says that he cannot imagine action without
substratum, just confesses thereby that that putative
Substratum of thought is itself a mere product of his
imagination; thus again is only his own thought, which
he in this way is compelled to presuppose as independent
ad infinitum. It is a mere illusion of the imagination that
after one has taken away from an object the only predi-
cates which it has, still something, one knows not what,
remains of it. Thus, e.g., nobody will say impenetrability
is implanted in matter, for impenetrability is matter itself”
(which certainly is only half the truth). Substratum
sometimes means the same thing as subject; one will,
however, still not maintain that dead matter is something
more subjective than force. Sometimes substratum means
“the underlying,” i.e., a causal moment; of which there
can be no question here. Usually it signifies prop, plainly
in a sensuous meaning of the word; the crude sensuous
idea must, however, here be excluded, and so our list
ends. In short, we can think here nothing at all by sub-
stratum. But even if this were possible, the defenders of
matter would always still owe the proof of the validity of
their hypothesis of a substratum of force; for I cannot see
META PHYSIC OF THE UNCONSCIO US. 17 I
the need of still supposing something behind force, as I
maintain that one can quite well think force to be inde-
pendently existing. It still remains: Matter is for science
an empty word, for one can name no single quality which
shall appertain to the notion thereby designated; it is
simply an insignificant word, unless we are contented
with the motion of a “system of forces,” for which we
would rather put “matter.” Accordingly, it is settled that
those who assert they cannot think force as independent
can assuredly not think it in combination with matter.
Further, it is asserted, “Force must have an object to
act upon, otherwise it cannot act.” This is uncondition-
ally allowed; it is only disputed that this object must be
matter. “The force of any atom has other atoms for its
object; ” that is all the physical scientific hypothesis re-
quires; what that is in the atoms which serves as object,
about that physical science does not trouble itself at all.
We, however, have to show that we as yet know in the
atom only force; that nothing stands in the way of regarding
force as that in the atom which serves as object to the force
of the other atom; that thus for this reason all occasion is
wanting for setting up the new hypothesis of matter. In
addition to this, there is still the analogy of the mental
forces, which likewise have one another for objects, e.g.,
the idea acting as motive has the will as object, the will
again has the idea as object, and so on. The pure recipro-
city in the relation of atomic forces to one another should
serve as a warning against the assumption of another
object than force itself.
But now, let us really assume for one moment that the
atoms consisted, beside force, also of matter, and consider
what difficulties thereby arise for this idea in the mutual
action of two atoms, A and B, and how the one unau-
thorised and Superfluous assumption must always be Sup-
ported by new and just as arbitrary ones. The force of A
is to act upon the matter of B and vice versa, thereby the
matter of A and B approach one another, whilst the forces
172 PHILOSOPHY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS.
stand out of all relation to one another, the converse of
which one indeed would expect, since it is force which acts
at a distance, but not matter, since force and force are of
homogeneous, force and matter, however, of heterogeneous
nature. The matter of A and B then approach in conse-
quence of the momentary attraction of the mutual forces.
What follows from this 2 Manifestly that the force and
matter of every atom must be separated, for matter is .
caused by the foreign force to change its place, but not
force. If, now, still the force and matter of every atom
remain together, and nevertheless force cannot be necessi-
tated by the force of the foreign atom directly to a change
of place, it follows with logical necessity that the force of
A must be compelled by the matter of A to change its
place. There with, however, acting, consequently activity
is ascribed to matter, whereas it is in general absolute
passivity which must be represented in opposition to the
activity of force. The mode and manner of this action is,
however, perfectly incomprehensible, for if matter becomes
actively acting it becomes indeed again force. Instead,
then, of force A, as would be natural, attracting force B, it
moves the matter of B, and the matter of B moves the
force of B.
IHow force is to be “bound" to matter, which is the
favourite expression of the partisans of matter, I must
confess I cannot at all imagine. It would also be difficult
for them to answer the following: Is one to imagine force
bound to the centre of the material atom, or uniformly
distributed over the whole matter of the same 2 For a
material atom must surely have a certain size
The former assumption certainly evades the difficulties
connected with the other, but then force is no longer
strictly bound to matter, but to a mathematical point,
which yet cannot possibly be material, and which only
accidentally coincides with the centre of a material ball.
Then the action of matter on the movement of force is not
at all comprehensible; rather the material ball is a fifth
METAPHYSIC OF THE UNCONSCIO US. I73
wheel in the waggon, since only the point, the ideal centre
of the same, is in question. On the second assumption the
difficulties are, however, far greater, for then indeed from
every point of the material atom acts a part of the force,
and each of these points has another distance from the
atom which is acted upon. There is then the resultant
to be taken of all these partial forces, whose point of
attack now on action at finite distances by no means
falls upon the centre of the material atomic sphere, but
becomes different according to each direction of action.
In this speculation, however, one must manifestly imagine
the atom decomposed into an infinite number of parts, each
of which is burdened with an infinitesimal part of the force.
Let one think such an atomic particle as Small as one will,
it is still always matter, and still no mathematical point;
thus the union of the same with force can yet again only
be comprehended by imagining the force uniformly distri-
buted within the same. We are thus again constrained to
infinite division, and so on, i.e., the material atom must
be divided infinitely an infinite number of times, and in
spite of it all it can never be comprehended how the force is
distributed to matter, since one can absolutely only imagine
the manifestation of simple force referred to the mathema-
tical point, and this again is no longer material. (This the
most considerable physicists and mathematicians, as Am-
père, Cauchy, W. Weber, &c., have recognised, and there-
fore admitted that the atoms must be conceived as abso-
lutely without extension.)
Let us, on the other hand, consider how the case stands
without matter. We have nothing else to do but to retain
the idea of atomic force, which the defenders of matter
also possess, that it is the final unknown cause of motion,
whose paths prolonged backwards cut one another in a
mathematical point. Even he who assumes the atomic
force to be equally distributed over the whole matter of
the atom can, as said, not get rid of this mode of view-
ing the matter, for he must apprehend the total force of
I74 PHILOSOPHY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS.
the atom as resultant of an infinite mass of punctual
forces within the atom, however contradictory this re-
quirement may be.
IFurther, the defenders of matter also assume the possi-
bility of a relative change of place of this point, in which
the directions of the manifestations of force intersect. We
leave, provisionally, the question undiscussed whether force
as such, apart from its manifestations, is something to
which one may attribute spatiality or a place in space; if it
has a place, it is in any case this point of intersection, and
we will therefore provisionally call it the seat of force.
IFurther, we assume that the atomic forces mutually serve
as objects, i.e., that the mutual attraction of A and B pro-
duces local change at the seat of the forces in the Sense
of the latter approaching one another and separating on
repulsion. I do not see where difficulties could be found
here. According to the assumption of science, forces act
at a distance and are homogeneous; why should they not
act upon one another, if one indeed has hitherto granted
an action of force on the matter heterogeneous to it and
an action of dead matter on the force heterogeneous to it !
We only need assumptions which were already there, strip
away from these several as Superfluous and unauthorised,
and arrive notwithstanding not only just as well, but much
more simply and more plausibly, at the goal, and avoid all
the difficulties which appeared in the train of those useless
assumptions. If we reckon, in addition, that those assump-
tions rest on an empty word without any thought, the gain
proceeding from the simplification of the principles cannot
be rated lightly. • .
There is, besides this, the crucial test, that our present
rendering of Matter reconciles the two previously distinct
parties of atomists and dynamists, since it has arisen from
the conversion of Atomism into Dynamism, retains un-
impaired all previous advantages of Atomism, which have
assuredit its exclusive authority in current physical science,
purifies it of all the warranted reproaches of the dynamists,
METAPHYSIC OF THE UNCONSCIOUS. I75
and gives birth to the fundamental principle of Dynamism,
the denial of matter in a new, and more thorough fashion.
We may therefore rightly call this conception Atomistic
Dynamism. Dynamism in its previous form, apart from
the want of an empirical proof, could never be accepted
by physical science, because its formlessness made all calcu-
lation impossible. If forces are to act locally, they must
determine their effects in space, and thus refer the same
to definite starting-points. With this the point is directly
given as starting-point of material force, wherefore Dyna-
mism also, as soon as it tried to assume a more definite
shape, was necessarily converted into Atomism, for it
only then gained for the first time a tangible form, when
it referred the play of opposite forces to force-individuals,
i.e., atoms. This point of view was advocated by Leibniz
in a tolerably pronounced fashion:—“Il n'y a que les
points métaphysiques, ou de Substance, qui Soient exactes
et réels—Il n'y a que les atomes de substance, c'est à
dire, les unités réelles et absolument déstituées de parties,
qui Soient les Sources des actions et les premiers principes
absolus de la composition de choses, et comme les derniers
élémens de l'analyse des substances.” (“Système Nouveau
de la Nature,” No. II.)—Leibniz altogether comprehends
“substance” only as force, and force is to him the only and
genuine substance. Comp. De Primae Philosophiæ Emenda-
tione et de Notione Substantice. That he does this, and with
the notion of force implicitly insinuates the notion of the
Will into substance, is his main philosophical advance
beyond Spinoza. Undoubtedly physical science was then
too much behindhand for him to put himself into active
alliance with it. Schelling would have succeeded far
better, who very decidely confesses to a dynamic Atomism;
but on principle deduces his assertions a priori, wherefore
also his mode of looking at the matter has not been able
to obtain any influence over physical science. Hè says
(Works, i. 3, p. 23):—
“What is indivisible cannot be matter, and, conversely,
176 PHILOSOPHY OF THE UNCONSCIO US.
it must then lie beyond matter; but beyond matter is
pure intensity, and this notion of pure intensity is ex-
pressed by the conception of action.”—(P. 22): “The
original actions, however, are not themselves space, they
cannot be regarded as part of matter. Our assertion may
accordingly be called principle of Dynamic Atomism.
|For every original action is for us, just as the Atom for
the corpuscular philosophers, truly individual ; each is in
itself whole and self-enclosed, and represents, as it were,
a natural monad.” (P. 24): “In space, however, only its
effect is representable; action itself is earlier than space,
extensione prior.”— - -
If thus, on the one hand, Dynamism, even when it
attained atomistic individualisation of force, was not able
to prove itself to be something empirically authorised, on
the other hand, at no time could Atomism defend itself
against the reproach of logical contradiction, which was
always brought against its material atoms. If, notwith-
standing, physical science has inclined to it with ever-
increasing confidence, this certainly proves a strong inner
compulsion, with which, in spite of the acknowledged
contradiction, the force of facts ever and again urged the
natural philosophers to the atomistic explanation. Atom-
istic Dynamism satisfies all requirements by uniting the
positive principles of both sides in itself.
If we once more briefly recapitulate these principles,
they run thus: There are as many positive as negative,
6.e., attractive and repulsive, forces. The directions of
action of every force intersect in a mathematical point,
which we call the seat of force. This seat of force is
movable. Every force acts upon every other in the same
way, no matter how it be designated. Positive force is
called body-atom; negative, ether-atom. At a certain
(molecular) distance the repulsion of an ether-atom and
the attraction of a body-atom are equal to one another;
but as the law of their change varies with their distance,
between ether and corporeal atoms at lesser distances
METAPHYSIC OF THE UNCONSCIOUS. 177
there prevails repulsion, at greater distances attraction.
Corporeal atoms with interposed ether - atoms keeping
them asunder unite to form the molecules of the chemical
elements; these in the same way the molecules of the
chemically compound bodies; these the material bodies
themselves. Matter is thus a system of atomistic forces
in a certain state of equilibrium. From these atomic
forces in the most different combinations and reactions arise
all the so-called forces of matter, as gravitation, weight,
expansion, elasticity, crystallisation, electricity, galvanism,
magnetism, chemical affinity, heat, light, &c.; nowhere,
as long as we confine Ourselves to the inorganic sphere,
do we need to call to our aid any other than atomic forces.
We have accordingly seen that of the two materialistic
principles, force and matter, the latter dissolves and dis-
appears beneath our hands into the former; and now
we know exactly what we have to understand by force,
namely, an attracting or repelling, positively or negatively
acting point of force. Now the notion of force is made so
precise that we are able directly to consider the same,
without in our investigation having any cause to fear
that we apprehend it otherwise than physical science and
Materialism intends. Let us see what this conception
involves.
The attracting atomic force strives to bring every other
atom nearer to it; the result of this endeavour is the
completion or realisation of the approach. We have thus
in Force to distinguish the effort itself as pure act, and
that which is aimed at as the goal, content, or object of
the endeavour. The endeavour lies before the execution; so
far as the execution is already posited, so far is the effort
tealised, is therefore no more ; only the yet to be realised,
that is, not yet realised effort is. Consequently, the result-
ing movement cannot be contained in the effort as reality,
since their times are separate. Were this, however, not
at all contained in the endeavour, there would be no
reason why the latter should produce attraction, and not
WOL. II, º MI
178 PHILOSOPHY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS.
Something else, e.g., repulsion; why it varies accord-
ing to this and not according to that law with the dis-
tance. It would then be empty, purely formal endeavour,
without definite goal or content ; it must thus remain
aimless and without content, and accordingly resultless,
which contradicts experience. Experience rather shows
that an atom does not accidentally now attract, now repel,
but remains perfectly consistent and always equal to
itself in the aim of its endeavour. Nothing more is
wanting, then, than that the effort of the attractive force
contain in itself the approximation and the law of change
according to distance, i.e., the whole variable determina-
tion of its mode of action; and yet not contain in itself
their reality.
Since the striving or the force of the atom is the pri-
mitive element constituting matter, and as such in itself
simple and immaterial, there can here then be no more
talk of material predispositions; the above requirements
must be combined in an immaterial way. This is only
possible if the striving possesses all the uniformly
variable definiteness of its mode of manifestation as an
appearance resembling reality—as image, as it were ; i.e.,
however, if it possesses the same ideally or as presenta-
tion. Only if in the striving of the atomic force the
“what’ of the endeavour be ideally prefigured, only then is
a determination of the endeavour at all given; only then is
a result of the endeavour, only then that consequence pos-
sible which in the same force-individual always retains
the same positive or negative goal of endeavour, but still
acts on a second atom from this particular distance with
this particular strength, on a third from that distance
in that strength. Without itself changing, the atomic
force changes the extent of its action according to circum-
stances, and that too with logical uniformity (mechanics =
applied mathematics, mathematics = applied logic). This
necessitation by circumstances leaves its activity, its
spontaneity untouched, and requires therefore, neverthe-
METAPHYSIC OF THE UNCONSCIOUS. I79
less, the direct procession of action from inner deter-
mination; thus requires ideality as privs of reality, and
causes the necessitation to be perceived as a logical neces-
sitation (from the logical determinateness of the Idea).
But now, what then is the striving of force other than
will, that endeavour whose content or object forms the un-
conscious idea of what is aimed at 2 Let one only compare
A. Chap. iv. Vol. I. pp. I 17–I 12; what we have here derived
from force we have there derived from will. That the will
is in its nature and immediately regarded eternally uncon-
Scious we have shown, C. Chap. iii. pp. 96–IO4; that it
here also must be mediately unconscious, since its con-
tent is an unconscious idea, is matter of course. Not
violently have we so far extended the notion of the will
as to include in it that of force; but in that we proceeded
from the will of the cerebral consciousness, acknowledged
as such, has this notion of itself broken through the limits
drawn for it by consciousness in an authorised manner
(vol. i. pp. 69–71), and evinced itself gradually as the effi-
cient principle in all activities of the animal and vege-
table kingdom. Now we see, to our astonishment, that
if we would think anything under the notion of a (no
longer derived, but independent) force, it can only be
what we have thought in the case of will; that thus
both conceptions would be identical if force were not
by conventional limitation of its content narrower, and,
moreover, were used quite especially for derived forces,
7.e., for particular combinations and manifestations of
atomic forces, e.g., elasticity, magnetism, muscular force,
&c. To replace the notion Will by the notion Force, or
at all to subsume it under the latter, would therefore be
bad, because force is properly derivative, only in the
Special Scientific sense original; will, on the other hand,
always original; and because force, in the ordinary accep-
tation, and in the view of common sense, is a much
more incomprehensible conception than will; one is
also accustomed by the crude sensuous mode of appre-
I8o PHILOSOPHY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS.
hension to think something especially material by “force,”
since the notion is only carried over from the feeling of
muscular energy to other external objects. So much more
inward as is the will than the feeling of muscular
energy, so much more significant is the word Will to ex-
press the essential truth than the word Force. (Comp.
Schopenhauer, “Welt als Wille und Worstellung § 22, and
Wallace, ‘Contributions to the Theory of Natural Selec-
tion.’” Wallace declares himself just as decidedly against
the retention of matter along with force as for the voli-
tional nature of all force, and herewith of the whole
universe.) -
The manifestations of the atomic forces are thus indi-
vidual acts of will, whose content consists in the uncon-
Scious representation of what is to be performed. Thus
matter is in fact resolved into Will and Idea. Here-
with is the radical distinction between spirit and matter
abolished; their difference consists only in higher or lower
forms of manifestation of the same essence, the eternally
Unconscious, but their identity is perceived in this, that
the Unconscious manifests itself equally in mind and
matter as the intuitively—logical Ideal, and dynamically
realises the conceived ideal anticipation of the ac-
tual. The identity of mind and matter herewith ceases
to be an uncomprehended and unproved postulate, or a
product of mystical conception, by being elevated to
Scientific cognition, and that, too, not by killing the spirit,
but by vivifying matter. There were only two standpoints
hitherto which actually avoided this dualism, but both
could only do this by boldly denying the truth of one
side. Materialism denied spirit; Idealism, matter. The
former regarded mind as unsubstantial appearance, result-
ing from certain constellations of material functions; the
latter regarded matter as unsubstantial appearance, result-
ing from the peculiarity of subjective conscious psychical
function. The One is as one-sided and untrue as the
other, and the unconquered strict dualism of co-ordinate
METAPHYSIC OF THE UNCONSCIOUS. I8I
spirit and matter to be preferred to both. Not merely to
evade this dualism by the denial of one aspect, but really
to overcome and absorb it, is only in the power of a
philosophy which sees in the subjective conscious mind,
as in matter, only phenomena of one and the same prin-
ciple in the subjective or objective sphere respectively
—a principle which is higher than both, and at the same
time less differentiated than either ; in a word, a philo-
sophy of the Unconscious (whether Hegel's Unconscious
Idea, or Schopenhauer's Unconscious Will, or the substan-
tial unity of both in Schelling's Eternally Unconscious).
Let us now consider how the atomic will is related
to space. Without in any way needing to enter upon the
question concerning the essence of space, we may say this
much : Space may have a twofold existence, one real in
bodies or bounded voids, and one ideal in the mental re-
presentation of bodies and bounded voids. If the ideal
space is in the representation, the representing cannot be
in the ideal space which it first creates; if cerebral vibra-
tions constrain the Unconscious to a reaction with Con-
scious perception, this perception has nothing to do with
the place of the vibrating spot in the brain, or the place
of this perceiving man upon the earth; the idea is thus also
not in the real space. Will is the translation of the ideal
into the real; it adds to the ideal its content, that which
bare thinking cannot give it, by realising it. Whilst this
its content, which is always an idea, also contains ideal-
spatial determinations, the will at the same time also
realises these spatial determinations, and this also puts
space out of the ideal into the real, posits thus the real
space. (How Space arises in the ideal does not here con-
cern us; enough that it is the will that posits real space.)
That which is only created by the will cannot be present
before completed willing; the will as such cannot then be
real-spatial. With ideal space, however, the will has
nothing at all to do. For it exists merely in the idea,
*.e., in the mental representation. In short, Will and
I82. PHILOSOPHY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS.
Idea are both of non-spatial nature, since it is the idea which
first creates the ideal space, the will by realisation of the
idea the real space. It follows from this that also the
atomic will or the atomic force can be nothing Spatial,
because it, as Schelling says, is extensione prior.
To common apprehension this may for the moment
appear strange, but the strangeness immediately disap-
pears if we compare it with the spatial effects of the will
in organisms. The will moves in me certain nervous mole-
cules in such a manner that by transmission of the current
and employment of the polar forces in nerves and muscles
my arm lifts a hundredweight. The will has thus directly
produced certain spatial changes of position, which we, it
is true, do not more exactly know, but of which we can say
this much, that their movements of direction by no means
meet in a common point of section, but probably consist
of revolutions of a certain number of molecules about
their axes. Movement ensues just in this manner be-
cause the unconscious idea, which forms the content of
the will, ideally contains just this kind of movement.
Did this representation, on the other hand, ideally con-
tain such movements or intersect in a common point, the
will would also realise such movements, and this it does
in the atomic will. One sees, then, that this common
point of section of all manifestations of the atomic will is
something purely ideal,—I might, not to be misunder-
stood, rather say is imaginary, and only by a considerable
license of speech can be called the seat of the will or of
energy; for the only spatial elements in the whole affair
are the manifestations of force, which never reach the
common point of section, in that this always lies only in
its ideal prolongation. Nevertheless this point must be
definite in relation to others, i.e., the distance of the ideal
point of section from all similar points of intersection is
determined. Hence it of course follows that this distance
may also be changed, i.e., that this point is capable of
motion.
METAPHYSIC OF THE UNCONSCIOUS. 183
What, then, actually happens when two attracting
forces approach one another ? In the first place, the at-
traction increases; secondly, the actions on all laterally
situated atoms so change their direction that their prevail-
ing ideal points of intersection must be conceived brought
nearer to one another; the first and the second change
stand in such a relation that the attraction increases
m” times if the diminution of the distance of the points
of intersection due to the displacement in direction of the
lateral manifestations of force amounts to n. The reality
is thus always only the manifestations of force which have
a certain direction and strength, and the change of this
direction and strength, whereas the points of intersection
are and remain something ideal. But the two former, as
mental representation, form the content of the atomic
will; and one will now understand how the will itself may
be somewhat non-spatial, and by no means need reside in
the ideal point of intersection, and move about with this,
whilst yet the realisations of its content are of spatial
nature, and have a common ideal point of intersection,
whose position with reference to other ideal points of inter-
section are definite and variable.—
The question might here be raised whether the atoms
have a consciousness. However, I think that data are
all too lacking for any decision to be come to there-
upon, since with regard to the means required for the
production of consciousness and the degree of movement
necessary for overstepping the threshold of sensation we
still know next to nothing. Thus much, however, we may
assert with confidence: if matter has a consciousness it
is an atomistic consciousness, and between the conscious-
nesses of the several atoms no communication is possible.
Wherefore it is decidedly erroneous to speak of the con-
sciousness of a crystal or of a heavenly body, for in inor-
ganic bodies can at most the atoms each for itself possess
a consciousness. Of course this atom-consciousness would,
by reason of poverty of content, assume the lowest place
I84. PHILOSOPHY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS,
conceivable.—Leibniz, who was not acquainted with the
phenomenon of the threshold of sensation, thought himself
warranted in deriving from the law of continuity (natura
non facit Saltus) and from that of analogy (a tºuTvota Trávra)
a certain degree of consciousness for each, even the lowest,
monad. However this authorisation disappears through
the law of the threshold. When carbonic acid gas, e.g., is
more and more compressed, it takes up, indeed, a smaller
and smaller space, but still always remains gas; suddenly,
however, one reaches a point where it is no longer compres-
sible but becomes liquid; this is, so to speak, the thresh-
old of the gaseous condition. So in the scale of individuals
or monads, consciousness may become ever poorer and
poorer, but always still remain consciousness, until Sud-
denly a point is reached where the decrease is at an end
and consciousness ceases, the lower limit of the threshold
of sensation being exceeded. But who can in Nature
assign this point with certainty ?
We shall, in conclusion, have to take notice of the
question whether, in our present mode of regarding the
atoms as acts of will, we may look upon them as so many
substances, or not rather as phenomena of one substance 2
whether to every atom there corresponds a separate, inde-
pendent, Substantial will,—as a matter of course these also
endowed with separate faculty of perception,-or whether
a single identical will underlies these many counter-
working actions and activities After having perceived
only the opposition, the contradiction of actions, to be the
Spatially real, but having comprehended the forces them-
selves as something absolutely non-spatial, every reason
disappears for the splitting of will and idea in the eternally
non-spatial into an innumerable multiplicity of single
substances, and rather the impossibility of the reciprocal
action of such isolated and non-contiguous substances
compels us to assume that the atoms, just as all individuals,
may be altogether merely objectively-real phenomena or
manifestations of the All-One, in which, as in their common
METAPHYSIC OF THE UNCONSCIOUS. 185
root, their real relation to one another may be effected
(comp. C. Chap. vii. and xi.) Were the atoms substantially
Separate and different, the spaces fixed by their uncon-
scious ideational functions would be as numerous as the
atoms, and accordingly the spaces realised by the atomistic
functions of will would be as numerous as the atoms. There
would then not at all come to pass that which makes
possible the community of the spatial relations of the
atomic functions to one another, namely, the One objectivo-
phenomenal, i.e., objectively-real space. Such can only
arise by the realisation of the unconscious space-ideas,
if these latter in all the atoms only compose the inner
multiplicity of the content of a single collective idea;
and this, again, is only possible if all the atomic functions
are functions of one and the same essence as modes of an
absolute substance. For him, who elects to stop short
at the pluralism of the atoms regarded as substantially
different, there will always remain an inexplicable residue
even with our conception of matter; this disappears, how-
ever, as soon as the final unavoidable step to metaphysical
Monism has been taken, -
( 186 )
VI.
THE CONCEPTION OF INDIVIDUALITY.
INDIVIDUAL means indivisible (as does atom); but every
one knows that individuals may be cut into pieces and
divided. We can thus only think of something as indi-
vidual which in its nature cannot be divided if it is to
remain what it is; but this is the notion of unity—Greek
7monas (not to be confused with the numerical concept of
the One, Greek év). According to this, the conceptions
unity or monad and individual coincide; but one very
Soon sees that unity is a wider notion than individual, i.e.,
every individual is a unity, but not every unity is an
individual. Thus every connected form, in virtue of the
continuity of space, is a unity. I cannot divide it without
annihilating it; still I shall not call the accidental unity
of form of a clod, e.g., an individual. Further, every move-
ment or every occurrence possesses a unity in virtue of the
continuity of time, e.g., a tone; this unity likewise is not
an individual (comp. W. Kirchmann, “Philosophie des
Wissens,” vol. i. pp. 131–141, 285–307). The unity of
coinherence or of interpenetration, as it appears, e.g., in
colours, mixtures of taste or Smell, and in different quali-
ties of the same thing, is reducible partly to existence in
the same place, partly to the temporal coexistence of different
qualities, partly to the causal unity of Succession, and can
accordingly not be regarded as a particular species of
unity. The unity of the causal relation is the strongest
that there is. We have to distinguish in it three kinds: (1)
Unity by identity of the cause (as in the different percep-
METAPHYSIC OF THE UNCONSCIOUS. 187
tions of a thing); (2) unity by reason of identity of the
purpose (as in the many contrivances of the eye for see-
ing); (3) unity by mutual action of the parts, so that the
function of each part is cause of the persistence of the
other.—These unities also do not suffice for the conception
of individuality. An example of the first is the unity of
the many perceptions of a thing, so far as they do not
directly contain the identity of place and time, but are
only referred to the thing as identical causes. Nobody
will maintain that the unity of the perception of a thing
is an individual. In the second place, if the unity of
purpose consists in the construction of a building, we
should not call the sum of the workmen which have this
purpose an individual. Thirdly, if a country lives on the
natural products of its colonies, and the colonies only
exist by reason of the importation of the artificial produc-
tions of the mother country, there is here a perfect reci-
procity, and yet nobody will call the sum of colonies and
mother country an individual.
Each of these unities, then, shows itself as insufficient
to fix the notion of the individual. Just as insufficient
are the external characteristics which are set up here and
there as marks, e.g., the Origin from a germ or an egg
(Gallesio and Huxley). According to that, all the weep-
ing willows of Europe must be an individual, since they
can be shown to be historically derived from a single tree
introduced into England from Asia by means of offshoots;
thus all spring from one germ. According to that, further,
all the plant-lice (perhaps several millions) which are pro-
ducéd by parthenogenesis in ten or more generations in the
course of a summer, represent collectively a single indi-
vidual. Just as little as the derivation from a single egg can
the typical idea of the race pass as mark of the individual;
for the typical generic idea is the idea of the normal indi-
vidual, which represents the race because it is free from
accidental peculiarities; and one gains this idea of the
normal individual by allowing the accidental peculiarities
I88 PHILOSOPHY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS.
to be stripped from all individuals of a species, and only
retaining the uniform common element in abstraction. It
is here at once evident that one must already possess the
mark of the individual in order to be able to compare the
several individuals and to single out the normal type; that
thus this type cannot possibly hold good regressively as
criterion of the individual, since one would thereby only
revolve in a circle. But, in addition, we have undoubted
individuals, even where the same do not, or imperfectly,
represent the generic idea. Thus the root belongs to the
idea of the plant, the tentacles to the idea of the polyp ;
but if I cut off the twig of a plant or a piece of the tube
of a polyp, these have no roots or tentacula, and yet con-
tinue an independent existence, since they carry about
with them all the conditions of the continued existence ;
we cannot possibly denude them of individuality. Deri-
vation from an egg and the typical generic idea thus
appear altogether unsuitable to serve as marks of the
individual; let us therefore return to the conception of
unity as we formerly conceived it.
It is true the several kinds of unity considered were
likewise insufficient, but if each taken singly is too wide
for the limits of the concept individual, yet the combina-
tion of all these species of unity in a thing afford the
necessary limitations. We had, namely, demanded unity
for the individual, because it was of its essence that it
should be indivisible; but now it is clear that this require-
ment is only fulfilled, if not merely in this or that relation,
but in all possible relations it is essentially inseparable,
i.e., if it combines in itself all possible modes of unity.
That the five above-mentioned varieties of unity are in
fact all possible and alone possible, it is not difficult to
see, for they exhaust the three subjective-objective forms:
Space, Time, and Causality.
We have, then, gained a satisfactory definition of the
individual: the individual is a thing which unites in
itself all possible modes of unity: (1) Space unity (of the
METAPHYSIC OF THE UNCONSCIOUS. 189
form); (2) time unity (continuity of action); (3) unity of
the (intrinsic) cause; (4) unity of purpose; (5) unity of reci-
procal action of the parts (so far as such are present; other-
wise, of course, the last disappears).--Where the unity of
the form is wanting, as in a beehive, one says notwithstand-
ing that all the other unities are most strikingly present,
but not that of the individual. Where the continuity of
action is wanting, as in frozen and re-thawed fishes, in
dried-up and again softened Rotifers, there exists, it is
true, a unity of the thing, but I should consider it an
error to speak of unity of the individual; there are in
that case just two individuals, which are distinct owing
to the pause in their vital activity, as I am different from
a man living a thousand years ago. That of the three
causal unities none can be wanting to the individual is
doubtless self-evident.
It is decidedly of importance for the conception of the
individual that no one of these unities is anything abso-
lutely fixed, outwardly rounded off, but all the inferior
unities of the same kind can be included and be taken up
together with several of their like into a higher unity. It
is altogether a vain endeavour to seek for a definite
boundary to any kind of unity whatsoever; there are
always, again, higher unities conceivable, which include
them at the same time, as everything finally is taken
up into the unity of the world, and this may again be
crowned by a metaphysical unity of different co-ordinated
worlds imperceptible to us. If this holds good of the con-
ception of unity, it already shows that it also holds good
for the conception of the individual, and that for this, too,
the external rounding off and strict separation is only in
appearance. This appearance to Superficial observation,
namely, arises from this, that the individual first comes
into being through this composition of all the above-
mentioned unities. If, now, several individuals are said
to be contained in an individual of a higher order, there
appertains to that, both in the individuals of the lower
I90 PHILOSOPHY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS.
and in that of the higher order, a coincidence of all these
kinds of unities; if, on the other hand, any mode of unity
is wanting in the former or the latter, there remains, it
is true, the subordination of the other unities under the
higher ones, but there is then no longer an embracing
of several individuals by a higher. Even Spinoza, the
monist of purest water, says (Eth. Th. 2, Prop. 7, Post. I):
“The human body consists of several individuals of various
nature, each of which is very complex;” and Leibniz car-
ries this idea farther in his Monadology.
Let us first look at the matter in the case of immaterial
individuals, where the relations are much simpler. So far,
namely, as we have hitherto spoken of individuals, the
discussion has only been of material individuals; some-
thing quite different to these, and by no means coinciding
with them, are the immaterial individuals, which therefore
require a quite special investigation. Had a resolution
been earlier taken to separate the investigation of spiritual
and material individuals, the present terrible confusion
would by no means have prevailed with regard to this
conception. -
We have here again to distinguish between consciously-
spiritual and unconsciously-spiritual individuals, and
speak provisionally only of the former. Locke asserted
that the identity of a person exclusively depends on the
identity of consciousness, and this truth has been readily
admitted by all later philosophers. The unity which
may not be divided, constituting the individual, is accord-
ingly here the unity of consciousness, which we have
considered in C. Chap. iii. pp. II 3–I 18. For only by this,
that the consciousnesses of two ideas temporally or spa-
tially separate in the brain are taken up into the common
consciousness of the comparison, i.e., find in this their
higher unity, only hereby does it become possible that the
subject or the instinctively supposed cause of the one and
the other idea is recognised as one and the same, and
accordingly both referred to a common internal cause
METAPHYSIC OF THE UNCONSCIOUS. I9 I
(Ego). Only so far as the unity of consciousness extends
does the unity of the mental processes by causal reference
to a common subject extend, only so far extends the con-
sciously-mental individual.
Now we know that in the subordinate nervous centres
of men and animals conscious mental processes go on,
which, owing to the excellence of the communications, are
united into an intimate unity; we shall then be necessarily
obliged to recognise in these unities spiritual individuals.
It cannot be objected that these other centres are mentally
too low to attain to self-consciousness, to the Me. This
Me is only instinctively presumed, i.e., it does not at all
need to emerge as self-consciousness; but all goes on as
if self-consciousness existed, and referred all actions to
the Ego. This we still see, indeed, in the lowest animals
and plants, and call it zoopsychological sensibility. There
is, therefore, nothing in the way of comprehending the
lower nerve-centres as supporters of conscious mental
individuals; but when we further see that sensations of
different nerve-centres can be taken up into one conscious-
ness under particular circumstances, which more or less
occurs in common feeling, one cannot avoid acknow-"
ledging this unity of consciousness as a higher spiritual
individual, which comprehends the lower individuals in
itself. Further, if we consider that the properly active
parts of the white nerve-fibres merely destined for con-
duction, namely, their axis cylinders, are quite the same as
the grey matter, and that the white appearance is merely
produced by the medullary matter destined for the isola-
tion of the fibres deposited between axis cylinder and
fibrous membrane, one cannot avoid the conclusion that
the active parts even of the white nerve-matter have a
consciousness of their own of Some sort or other of the
vibrations, which they are certainly only destined to
transmit as their share in the general economy. In
like manner, the contracting muscular fibres, or the
secreting glands responding to nerve-stimulation, beyond
I92 PHILOSOPHY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS.
a doubt possess a certain sensation of these events,
since they are, indeed, adapted to propagate the nervous
vibrations exciting them beyond the limits of the nerve-
fibres to the neighbouring parts. (Thus, according
to Engelmann, the peristaltic movements of the ureter
are spontaneous functions of its unstriped muscular
walls.)
If we further remember the results of C. Chap. iv., where
we came upon cell-consciousness in plants, the Supposition
is very plausible that even the animal cells, in part still
more highly organised than the vegetable cells, have their
separate consciousness; an assumption which later on in
this chapter will receive yet further confirmation. This
much is certain, that the animal cells in great part live,
grow, increase, and pay their specific contribution to the
preservation of the whole, just as independently as the
vegetable cells. Why, if they lead just as independent a
life, should they not have just as independent a sensation ?
Virchow says (“Cellulorpathologie,” 3d edit., p. 105): “Only
when we conceive the absorption of nutritive material as
a consequence of the activity (attraction) of the tissue-
elements themselves, do we comprehend why the several
districts are not every moment flooded with blood, that
rather the offered material is only taken up into the parts
according to the real need, and carried to the several dis-
tricts in such proportion that, in general at least, as long
as there exists any possibility of Conservation, the one
part cannot be essentially injured by the others.” If this
proper activity of the cell holds good for the reception
of the nutritive materials, how much more for their
chemical and formal conversion There are, indeed, large
districts of the animal body which are entirely devoid of
nerves and vessels, e.g., the substance of the epidermis, ten-
dons, bones, teeth, fibrous cartilage; and yet a circulation
of moisture through the cells takes place as in plants, and a
life and an increase of cells without stimulation of nerves.
If the animal cells are capable of performances so individual,
METAPHYSIC OF THE UNCONSCIO US. I93
just as in the plant, must they not be, like those, Sup-
porters of an individual consciousness 2 The difference is
only this: in the animal the importance of the individual
consciousness of the cells is evanescent in comparison with
the individual consciousness of higher orders, but in the
plant the cellular consciousness is the principal thing,
because it is altogether only in certain sensitive and privi-
leged parts, as flowers, &c., that there can be any indivi-
dual consciousness of a higher order worth speaking of.
Lastly, should ever the question with regard to the con-
sciousness of the atoms come to be affirmatively decided,
the atoms would, in fine, be the conscious individuals of
lowest order. Thus for conscious-spiritual individuals we
have found the Superposition of individuals of higher and
lower orders to be a correct representation; we have now
to consider the case of material individuals.
Recurring to the organic individuals, the difficulty of
deciding the question, what is the individual, is still
more evident in the case of plants than in that of
animals. In the case of the higher plants, the layman
especially designates as individual what the botanist
calls the stem (cormus). Linnaeus, Goethe, Erasmus Dar-
win, Alexander Braun, and many others sought for the
individual in the shoot, which answers to a single axis of
the plant. Ernest Meyer and others declared the leaf
in its different forms (discovered by Goethe) to be the
true individual, and the pedicle as lower part of the leaf.
Gaudichaud, Agardh, Engelmann, Steinheil, and others
thought they had found the same in the pedicle, as whose
upper offshoot they regarded the leaf or the calyx.
Schulz-Schultzenstein, on the other hand, tried to find it in
the cell groups, called by him anaphytons, as presented
in the developing buds. Schleiden and Schwann took
the next step, setting up the cell as the sole individual in
the life of the plant. Each of these views has important
reasons in its favour, and, in fact, each of them is so far
right in maintaining this or that to be individual, but
WOL. II. N
I94 PHILOSOPHY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS.
wrong in combating the other views; for the question is
here not about an either, or, but about a both, and. The
whole plant as well as each branch and sprig, and also
every leaf and every cell, combines in itself all the
unities which are necessary for individuality. This indeed
is coming to be perceived more and more; thus Decan-
dolle distinguishes five orders of individuals (cell, bud,
offshoot, stem, embryo); Schleiden, three (cell, bud, stem);
Häckel,” Sia, (cell, organ, counterpart, afterpart, shoot,
stem).
It would be altogether wrong and perfectly untenable
if spatial separation and seclusion were asserted to be the
condition of individuality, for then twins, only externally
connected at Some part of the skin (as the Siamese pair,
who have lived to upwards of sixty years), would always
have to be regarded as only one individual, which would
be altogether too absurd. Just as certainly is it erroneous
to require in an individual
independence % of existence
* Comp. his “Generelle Morpho-
logie der Organismen,” Berlin,
Reimer, 1866, vol. i. p. 25 I. Chap-
ters viii. and ix. of this work, which
unfortunately I only became ac-
quainted with after the appearance
of the fourth edition of the “Philo-
sophy of the Unconscious,” form the
best and most thorough confirma-
tion of the opinion I have here
expressed concerning the conception
of individuality.
* On this ground I cannot assent
to Häckel’s distinction between
morphological and physiological in-
dividuality, since the latter is only
an ill-selected expression for vital
self-sufficiency or biological inde-
pendence. Certainly one must as-
cribe individuality to every inde-
pendent and self-preserving living
being, but not because it is physio-
logically independent, but because
the physiological independence pre-
supposes the coinherence of those
various unities in which individu-
ality consists. Häckel himself de-
clares (“Generelle Morphologie,”
vol. i. p. 333) the “physiologic indi-
vidual” to be in its nature divisible,
in contrast to the infinitely indi-
visible “morphological individual,”
and therewith openly allows the
contradiction of the notion in re-
spect of its name. Certainly it is
physiologically important to settle
with what order of individuals in
each class of animals and plants
biological independence begins ; but
why substitute for this perfectly
sufficient and clear motion of the
“Bion” or independent vital exist-
ence that of the “physiological in-
dividual’? On the other hand,
Hackel’s conception of the mor-
phological individual itself con-
tains physiological elements, which
are smuggled in unnoticed by
means of the indispensable unities
of purpose and of the reciprocal
action of the parts. We, therefore,
do not think we are going far astray
when we stop at the unitarian con-
ception of the organic individual,
and reject Hackel's attempted divi-
sion of the same.
METAPHYSIC OF THE UNCONSCIOUS. I95
without the support of other individuals; one has only to
think what would become of the infant if the mother did
not offer it her breast, or of young beasts of prey if the
parents did not take them with them on the chase ; and
nobody will deny individuality to children and young
animals. *--
In lower organisms that coalescence which in the
higher only appears as abnormity of the foetal life uni-
formly occurs. A unicellular Alga, Pediastrum rotula,
appears in the adult condition only as a complex of
cells or a cell-colony of middle cell and peripherally de-
posited marginal cells. The green protoplasmic content
of each of these cells parts for the end of propagation into
four, eight, sixteen, thirty - two, or sixty - four globular
branch cells, which on emergence possess an independent
motion lasting a tolerable time; but then lie beside one an-
other, eight for every surface, in order by growing together
with one another to form a new rosette-like colony, which,
although consisting of eight unicellular Algae, yet com-
ports itself entirely as an individual. Similar processes
are found in a few other Algæ, e.g., the water-net (Hydro-
dictyon).-In a polyp-stock, every single animal is as
certainly an individual as the whole stock is an indivi-
dual, since its parts, like the members of a so-called
simple animal, are related to one another through the
community of the nutritive process, and nevertheless
maintain their morphological independence. “Every
compound Zoophyte springs from a single polyp, and
grows (like a plant) by continued gemmation into a
tree or a dome. The trunk of an Astraea twelve feet
in diameter unites about IOO,OOO polyps, each of which
takes up a square half inch; in a Porites, whose animal-
cules are hardly a line in breadth, their number would
exceed five and a half millions. In it, therefore, there
are an equal number of mouths and stomachs to a single
zoophyte, contributing together to the nutrition, gemma-
tion, and growth of the whole, and also united laterally to
I96 PHILOSOPHY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS.
one another” (Dana in Schleiden's and Fror. Not., 1847,
June, No. 48). Whoever ascribes individuality to an oak-
tree must grant it also to such a polyp-tree.
The globular animal, Volvoa globator, is (although not
belonging to the corals) a polyp-stock formed of several
animalcules, which, sitting on the circumference of a
sphere, are only united by feather-like tubes. “If one
puts some red or blue colouring matter into the water
under the microscope, a powerful current round the balls
is very distinctly perceived. This is a consequence of
the collective action of all the single animalcules, which,
like herds of animals, flocks of birds, even singing or
dancing human beings and crowds, possess a common
rhythm and a common direction, often even without the
word of command, and without being clearly conscious
of a purpose. Thus float all polyp-stocks, and the
sympathetic as the more coldly judging naturalist sees
herein a social impulse, which consists of force and plia-
bility for common purposes, a condition requiring a mental
activity, which one may be betrayed into, but not justified
in rating too lightly. One must also never forget that all
the single animalcules possess organs of sensation which
are comparable to eyes, and that they accordingly do not
turn themselves blindly about in the water, but, as citizens
of a great world very remote from our estimation, share
with us the enjoyment of a highly sensitive existence,
however proudly we may bear ourselves” (Ehrenberg in
his great work on the Infusoria, p. 69). This judgment is
so interesting just because it shows how the modest but
great naturalist, Overpowered by the simple facts, recog-
mises an instinct of the masses and a stirring mental life
at those lower animal grades.
“In the Mediterranean there is a rich family of splen-
did swimming-polyps, which Carl Vogt in particular
(“Recherches Sur les Animaux inférieurs de la Méditer-
ranée”) has brought to the knowledge of the scientist. A
young polyp is developed from an egg. It begins its life
METAPHYSIC OF THE UNCONSCIOUS. I97
freely floating in the Sea. At its upper end it forms a
bubble, in which the air is set free which supports it;
at its lower end there are formed, in ever richer and
fairer measure, feelers and prehensile threads with spe-
cial urticating organs. On its stem, which is continu-
ally elongating, there is formed a filtering tube. From
this stem arise bud-like shoots. Some of them form swim-
ming bells, which propel themselves, and consequently the
whole mass. The others are metamorphosed into fresh
polyps, which possess mouth and stomach, and not
merely collect, but also digest food for the whole, to de-
liver it finally into the common trunk-tube. Finally, yet
other buds attain a nettle-like aspect, and provide for
propagation; they bring forth ova, from which again pro-
ceed freely-floating polyps.” (Special polyps with long
sensitive tactile threads represent the sense-organs or the
intelligence of this state.) “What is here individual %
The young polyp appears to us simple, but out of it there
is formed a stem like a plant. The stem sends out ten-
tacles like roots, but they move voluntarily, and grasp
prey; it forms a trunk with a digestive sac, but it has not
any more than the plant a mouth to make use of the sac.
It sends forth buds and sprouts like the plant, but every
bud has a special task, which it performs with the appear-
ance of original activity. Special sprouts or branches
endowed with movement of their own manage, some
the reception and digestion of the food, others propaga-
tion. The trunk is nothing without the limbs, the limbs
nothing without the trunk” (Virchow, “Vier Reden,” pp. 65,
66). Whoever holds fast to the “either-or,” certainly such
an example must reduce to desperation; but we see in the
several members individuals partly of polyp-form, partly
medusoid, and, in the whole, an individual of higher
order, which includes in itself all these individuals. Even
in the bee- and ant-hive there is nothing wanting to Com-
plete the view of the whole as an individual of higher order
but spatial unity, i.e., the continuity of the form; here
198 PHILOSOPHY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS.
this likewise is present, and therefore the individual is
indisputable.
This widespread phenomenon in the animal and vege-
table kingdom of a varied physiological development of
morphologically originally similarly constructed indivi-
duals of the same species is termed Polymorphism (even
the separation of the sexes comes under this conception).
Kölliker recently discovered an interesting example in the
family of the sea-pens (Pennatulidae). Without entering
into the morphological significance of the organs of the
trunk, which serve as supporters of the several animals,
it is to be said that here the sex-animals, devouring
animals, and feeling-animals are not different, but one;
on the other hand, stunted individuals without tentacles
and sexual organs occur, which used to be regarded merely
as warts (granulation) of the skin, but which otherwise
possess altogether the structure of the sex-animals, and
perhaps have a particular relation to the imbibing and vent-
ing of water. It is one and the same principle of division
of labour, of the facilitation of a collective performance
by distribution to various one-sidedly endowed organs,
which, in the organised state of the bees, and still more in
that of the ants, conditions the different development of
from three to five separate individuals, and that here he
assigns the system of movement, of assimilation of food
and digestion, of perception and propagation to diverse
individuals coalescing into an individual of higher order.
It is just this principle, however, which we find also car-
ried out in the higher plants, where the roots provide for
the reception of nutriment, the leaves for respiration, the
flowers for propagation, whilst a trunk or stalk gives support
or cohesion to the whole, as the middle stem of the float-
ing polyp commonwealth. As in the bee-state the sexual
activity is personified in drones and queen, so also in the
dioecious plants, i.e., in those in which the one plant bears
merely male, the other merely female flowers; and in the
monoecious, where male and female flowers are on one
METAPHYSIC OF THE UNCONSCIOUS. I99
plant, are these flowers not to be called individuals, be-
cause they happen to be united in space by other parts of
the plant 2
But not merely in the remote region of lower marine
animals do we thus manifestly find compound individuals.
The comprehension of the tape-worms, in which the head,
by means of so-called nurse-generation, produces an en-
tire colony of hermaphrodite sexual animals, leads us to
the correct estimation of the anatomical structure of the
annelids, and these guide us to that of the articulata.
In the lower Annulata each segment has its gills, its
expansion of the intestinal canal, its contractile distension
of the large blood-vessel, its ganglia, its ramifications of
the nervous and vascular trunks, its Organs of propagation,
its locomotor appendages, and sometimes even its special
pair of eyes. Among the Articulata the Myriapoda
stand nearest to the Annelids; the process of gemmation
of segments, which is characteristic of the compound
individual, is here in part to be very distinctly observed
in the embryological history of development; the larva of
the milliped, which is hatched with eight segments, forms,
even in the first moulting, between the ultimate and
penultimate segment six new ones. In the degree in
which the division of labour and perfection of the type pro-
gresses from the tape-worms to the Annelids, to the milli-
peds and from these to the higher Articulata (crabs, spiders,
insects), in the same degree is there exhibited an intensified
differentiation of the segments of which the compound in-
sect consists; but even in the most perfect insects, with the
assistance of the individual and the palaeontological history
of development the composition from segments, which are
conceived as originally independent, is still more certainly
to be made out, and however far the differentiation may
otherwise be carried, there yet remain certain functions
(e.g., respiration) here always decentralised.
The successive segments of the Vertebrata, which consist
of a vertebra with its OSSeous processes, together with
2OO PHILOSOPHY of THE UNCONSCIOUS.
the appertaining muscular, vascular, and nervous pairs,
unquestionably exhibit a certain analogy with these suc-
cessive pieces of the compound worms and millipeds.
Nevertheless this does not seem to me sufficient to
place, with Häckel, both forms on the same level of
individuality, because in the compound worms the mani-
fold of the collective individual arises by aggregation of
many single individuals, but in the Vertebrata by internal
differentiation. It makes no difference here whether the
several individuals are the result of sexual congress, or
whether, as in the tape-worm, they are produced from an
originally simple individual by way of nurse-generation ;
both form a mutual contrast to the interior, gradually
progressive differentiation of the vertebrate organism,
whose prototype, the Amphioxus, forms by no means the
analogue of a compound, but of a simple worm. The
course of development in the Invertebrata and Vertebrata
is accordingly an exactly opposite one. In the former it
is the manifold, which concretes to unity in increasing
measure by means of unlikeness and closer connection of
the parts; in the latter unity is the starting-point, which
unfolds to the wealth of the manifold by enhancing the
inner multiplicity; in the former case the individuals of
lower order grow together to an individual of higher order;
in the latter case an individual unfolds into individuals of
lower order, and thereby at least relatively enhances the
degree of its order of individuality. Thus it becomes
intelligible that, in spite of the opposite starting-point,
both courses of development approach one another so
much nearer in their results the farther they have pro-
gressed, i.e., the more closely on the one side the composing
members have coalesced, and the more they have converted
their functions, fulfilling originally merely particular aims,
to serviceable functions of the higher whole,_the farther
on the other side the inner differentiation of the successive
portions, organs, and systems of organs has advanced.
As the above - mentioned floating polyp-stocks and
METAPHYSIC OF THE UNCONSCIOUS. 2O I
Pennatulidae are remarkable for the several individuals
composing them being entirely lowered to the rank of
differentiated organs of the higher collective organism, so
conversely we see that in the higher animals the organs
obtain the more sharply defined individuality, the more
strongly they are differentiated in their functions and
their constitution. One may again distinguish within the
organs three essentially different grades of individuality of
organ; the simple, the compound Organs, and the systems
of organs. The simple organs (Häckel's organs of first
and second rank) consist of a tissue of one kind; the com-
pound of that of several kinds; the systems of organs
are the indivisible union of a number of single and
compound organs in the whole organism, so far as they
serve a particular functional purpose. Simple organs are,
e.g., the epidermis, whose appendages (hairs, nails, scales,
cutaneous glands, crystalline lens), cartilage, and several
other vascular and nerveless forms of the connective
tissue; compound organs are such as the several muscles,
nerves, bones, blood-vessels, mucous membranes. The
sense-organs are mostly of so complicated a nature that
they conduct us from the organs to the systems of Organs,
e.g., the sum of the endings of the tactile nerves beneath
the epidermis. As system of organs one may further cite
the protective system of the surface of the body (epi-
dermis with appendages), the system of the skeleton, the
muscular system, the nervous system, the vascular or
circulatory system, the intestinal or digestive system, the
respiratory system, the generative or reproductive system.
Of course between these different systems in the higher ani-
mals there takes place a very intimate interpenetration and
interlacing; still even morphologically their separation can
very well be accomplished, and there is no apparent reason
why the more intimate fusion should afford a motive for
doubting the relative individuality of these systems, which
is so glaring in the floating polyps in spite of the local
fusion, and in the communities of bees and ants is devel-
202 PHILOSOPHY OF THE UN CONSCIOUS.
oped even to the partition of functions among discrete
individuals. In the spatially more sharply defined simple
or compound individual organs the acknowledgment of
individuality should meet with still fewer difficulties;
as certainly as to the single leaf or stamen of the plant
belongs a kind of individuality, so certainly to a hair of a
man's head does a sort of individuality appertain. In
lower animals single organs sometimes testify their indi-
viduality by releasing themselves from the collective
organism, and yet go on living and regularly perform the
office for the sake of which they are there; thus, e.g.,
in several kinds of Cephalopods (Argonauta, Philonexis,
Tremoctopus) the males have a hectocotylus, i.e., an arm
elaborated into a sexual organ, which performs the pro-
creative act by being liberated from the male and pene-
trating into the female. This hectocotylus was at first
regarded as a parasite, afterwards as the rudimentary male
of the respective cuttlefish, until it was perceived to be
the individualised organ of the male. £º
Of importance for our theme is likewise the pathological
conception of parasitic formations. I shall let an authority
in this field, Professor Virchow, speak for me. (“Cellular
Pathology,” pp. 427, 428): “Let one only remember that
parasitism only gradually comes to mean Something else
than the notion of autonomy of each part of the body.
Every single epithelial and muscular cell leads in rela-
tion to the rest of the body a kind of parasitic existence,
just as every single cell of a tree in relation to the other
cells of the same tree has a special existence belonging to
it alone, and withdraws from the rest of the elements
certain matters for its needs (ends). The notion of para-
sitism in the narrower sense of the term is developed from
this conception of the independence of the several parts.
As long as the need of the remaining parts presupposes
the existence of any part, as long as this part is useful in
some way or other to the other parts, so long one does not
speak of a parasite; it becomes So, however, from the
METAPHYSIC OF THE UNCONSCIOUS. 2O3
moment when it is foreign or injurious to the rest of the
body. The conception of the parasite is therefore not to
be confined to a single series of excrescences, but it belongs
to all plastic (formative) forms, but before all to the hetero-
plastic, which in their further elaboration do not produce
homologous products, but new formations, which are more
or less unsuitable in the composition of the body (at this
particular place).” From the unmistakable individual
independence of the parasites and the purely gradual
difference between them and normal formations one may
also regressively conclude to the individual independence
of the latter.
Still more distinct is the individual independence in
those structures which exhibit also morphologically a cer-
tain local separation from the rest of the body, and yet in
their independent functions produce an effect Subserving
the ends of the entire organism. I may mention, e.g., the
seminal filaments. The time has gone by when the Sper-
matozoids were regarded as independent animals analogous
to the intestinal worms destitute of mouth and stomach,
for the purpose of their existence and above all their de-
velopmental history testify to the contrary. Nevertheless
we cannot deny to these structures an individuality. In
the diluted semen the filaments may be seen to contract, to
revolve on their axes, lash with their tail, jerk forwards
the head, and freely float about in all directions, the
wriggling or screw-like motion of the tail effecting the
movement. These movements appear most arbitrary in
the spermatozoids of the animal species where fertilisation
is most difficult, i.e., in the mammalia, and become the
more simple and regular the more easy in the ascending
animal scale fertilisation becomes by the number, size of
the ova, and arrangement of the place of fertilisation.
That a certain dependence of existence on particular Sur-
rounding external relations, or even a linking with the
existence of other organisms, does not disprove individu-
ality, we have already mentioned before (one has only
2O4. PHILOSOPHY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS.
to think of parasitic animals); but the spermatozoids have
also a tolerably long life outside the seminal fluid in
every blood-hot, chemically indifferent fluid, if they are
only not hygroscopically deformed by the same. In the
female organs of generation of the mammalia they con-
tinue to live for days, nay, weeks; and in the seed-pouches,
e.g., the male river-Crawfish, which, in the rut, attach to
the females in autumn, or in the seminal vessels of humble-
bees and wasps that have copulated in the autumn, they
continue to live until the spring, to then fertilise the ova
which have in the meantime become ripe. This already
proves a high degree of independent vital capacity after
the separation of the organism producing them. The
morphological type of all spermatozoids of the whole
animal kingdom are the zoö spores of the Protist king-
dom, structures of whose individuality hardly a doubt could
well be suggested. It is just the zoö spores of the lower
organisms which exhibit the extremest degree of indivi-
dual independence (in the Myxomycetes the spores even
increase for several generations by fission), and neverthe-
less many of them surrender the same in the act of copula-
tion, in which two or more individuals lose their indivi-
duality and blend into one new individual. In the copula-
tion of the zoö spores we have to see the prototype of the
fertilising act, in which likewise two individuals (ovum
and seed-filament) allow their individuality to become lost
in that of a single new individual. When the plasmodes
of the Mynomycetes in their apparently lawless creeping
about now disintegrate, now flow together into one, we
shall perceive therein a phenomenon merely of life and
growth. We see, then, how near procreation stands to
growth even in reference to the act of copulation of the
materials of generation, if we compare with the confluence
of two plasmodes the congress of a number of zoö spores to
form a plasmode. If here only a summation of like indivi-
dual forces appears to be intended, the thought is forcibly
suggested of a neutralisation of invisible individual differ-
METAPHYSIC OF THE UNCONSCIOUS. 2O5
ences in a copulation of two zoö Spores, until in sexual
generation this difference rises to the height of a char-
acteristic contrast of the generative substances.—If one
should attempt to dispute the autonomous movements of
the spermatozoids by a parallel with the movements of
cilia, I should reply that in my view conversely the
autonomy of the former makes for that of the latter. An
alternating movement of a structure separate in form,
which demonstrably neither follows on mere external
stimulus nor is even produced by central parts, since it
persists after the isolation of the smallest portion of ciliated
epithelium, must arise from a cause inherent in the struc-
ture itself, i.e., bears the character of a certain individuality.
That the movements of the ciliary hairs of a surface fre-
quently agree with one another in such a way that regular
total movements, continuous waves, &c., arise, cannot
weaken this opinion. The like is also found in the bundles
of spermatozoids, where in each bundle regular waves flow
on one after another, or in those which are deposited
together in a thickly packed mass (e.g., in the earth-worm),
where the beautiful, regular waving is said to be compar-
able with that of a cornfield. It is just the same co-
operation of many individuals towards a goal as in the
organism in general.
There are Protista (Amaºba diffluens and porrecta)
whose sole locomotion consists in this, that they shoot
out rays in which the substance of the animal combined
with the points flows after one, or even several, whilst the
previous centre is thereby narrowed to the ray remaining
behind, which now withdraws to the new centre of gravity.
On precisely the same principle (according to Van Reck-
linghausen) pus corpuscles move as long as they are living;
they too shoot out radiated processes at the periphery, and
withdraw the same ; and at times one observes that the
viscous content of the cell darts after into such a ray. The
identity of these pus corpuscles with the most common
form of the White lymphatic bodies was subsequently
2O6 PHILOSOPHY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS.
demonstrated by Cohnheim, and their exit at the place of
suppuration established. Then Virchow observed similar
phenomena of movement in the large-tailed cells which
are found in a just excised cartilaginous tumour. Move-
ments had already been discovered in the blood corpuscles
of several animals. Without desiring to place the pus
corpuscle and similar freely moving structures morpho-
logically, chemically, or physiologically beside the cor-
responding lower animals in any way, from which they
are so entirely distinguished by their historical develop-
ment, I yet think that they may lay claim to an equal
right of individuality with those, since they, if not animals
in the Zoological sense, are yet beings which move about
in their environment just as purposively and with the
same appearance of voluntariness and animation as the
lower infusoria. That the circumstances of nutrition are
accommodated to the medium entirely answers to the
general processes in organic nature, and that they have
accordingly no mouth and stomach, cannot detract from
their individuality, since there are indeed animals also in
whom both are wanting.
The most recent discoveries on the immigration and
emigration of these amoeboid corpuscles from the blood
circulation into the tissue and back again lift the process
of nutrition out of the inorganic into the organic sphere,
in that, quite analogously to the procreative process, they
may be perceived to be conditioned by the living indi-
viduality of their substrata. The nutritive fluid absorbed
from the intestine as it enters into the lymphatic vessels
as yet contains no formed elements, but doubtless it
copiously receives such from the lymphatic glands;
similarly the vascular glands, above all the spleen,
are breeding-places of these amoeboid elements. They
pass through the walls of the blood-vessels into the
tissue of the body, in that at first a fine thread-like
process is pushed through a pore of the vascular wall,
and if the process, which lasts for hours, remains undis-
METAPHYSIC OF THE UNCONSCIOUS. 2O7
turbed, the total content of the corpuscle gradually follows.
These points have been most certainly established, as the
eagerness of these corpuscles for the reception of finely
divided pigments facilitates observation. As connective
tissue corpuscles they now penetrate into all organs, and
the cell-wanderings of the connective tissue enveloping all
the organs have been even longer known. When they have
fulfilled their office, they retreat through the walls of the
blood-vessels or lymphatic vessels again into the circula-
tion. Unfortunately we do not yet know anything more
particularly with respect to the chemical differences on
entrance and exit, and their possible regeneration into a
condition capable of nutrition. This much is, however,
certain, that the colourless blood corpuscles must also be
regarded as the origin of the red blood corpuscles, which
are the substrata of the respiratory process in the widest
sense. The passage from the one to the other form is
guaranteed by numerous intermediate stages. The red
blood corpuscles now present, it is true, at their periphery
no visible phenomena of movement; but according to the
investigations of Brücke, which have been found to be
confirmed also by other distinguished histologists, the
red-coloured amoeboid individual (zooid) is here only
limited with its movements to the interior of its case,
which consists of a porous, immobile, very soft, colourless,
and vitreous substance (oikoid). In the normal condition
the zooid pervades the whole oikoid, and leaves in the
centre a colourless nucleus; placed in water, it withdraws,
however, from the periphery to the centre, so that now
the former appears colourless, the latter red; not rarely
One sees amoebiform processes radiate from the red centre
to the periphery.—In the face of such results in regard to
a living individuality of the supports of the nutritive and
respiratory process in animal organisms, the naturalists
in question have seen themselves constrained to the
admission that only the view of the organism as a com-
plex of living elementary beings is capable of doing
208 PHILOSOPHY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS.
justice to the phenomena. Each of these individual
beings floats about independently in the lymph or the
blood, and antonomously executes its functions pre-
designated for it by its own individual nature, and yet
the results fit as organically together as if a secret tie
united these beings, or a secret commander guided their
performances according to a higher plan.
But even before these recent surprising clues to the
supports of nutrition and respiration, thinking naturalists,
on considering the cell as the elementary fundamental
form of all organic construction, have felt themselves
compelled to the acknowledgment of living individuality
within the externally limited organism. “All life is
bound to the cell, and the cell is not merely the vessel of
life, but it is itself the living part” (Virchow, “Wier Reden,”
p. 54). “What is the organism 2 A community of living
cells, a little state, well provided with all appurtenances
of upper and under officials, servants and masters, great
and small” (p. 55). “Life is the activity of the cell; its
special character is the special character of the cell” (p.
IO). “Peculiar appears to us the mode of activity, the
special function of the organic matter, but yet it happens
in no other way than the activity and function which
Physics reveals in non-living nature. The entire speciality
is limited to this, that the greatest multiplicity of material
combinations is packed together in the smallest space;
that every cell represents in itself a seat of most intimate
effects, most manifold material combinations with one
another, and that therefore results are attained which
nowhere else occur in nature, since nowhere else is a
similar intimacy of effects known" (p. II). “If we will
not make up our minds to distinguish between collective
individuals and single individuals, the conception of indi-
vidual in the organic branches of physical Science must
either be abandoned or be strictly confined to the cell.
To the former result both the systematic materialist as well
as the spiritualist must logically come; the unprejudiced
METAPHYSIC OF THE UNCONSCIOUS. 209
realistic view of Nature appears to lead to the latter, in
as much as only in this way is the unitarian concep-
tion of life assured for the whole sphere of vegetable
and animal organisms” (pp. 73, 74). This is the final
result of Virchow; one sees that he grazes the truth, with-
out having the courage to grasp it firmly. What concerns
us here is his well-established conception of the cell, which
he has further elaborated according to the suggestions of
Schleiden and Schwann, and therewith has raised animal
physiology and pathology to a new level, so to Say; comp.
Virchow, “Cellularpathologie,” especially chaps. i. and xiv.
That organisms in general consist of cells, and moreover of
so many microscopically minute ones, for that there is the
teleological ground that nutrition can only be effected by
endosmosis. EndoSmosis is only possible through very
thin, firm walls. Thus if with these thin walls the neces-
sary solidity is to be attained, the whole system must be
a complex of very small cells. How great is the number
of cells is proved by the following quotation:—
“At Zürich, near the Tiefenhof, stands an old linden-
tree; every year, when it puts on its ornament of leaves,
it forms, according to the estimate of Nägeli, about ten
billions of newly living cells. In the blood of an adult
man there circulate, according to the calculations of
Vierordt and Welcker, at every moment, sixty billions
(think: 60,000,000,000,000) of minutest cellular bodies”
(Virchow, p. 55).
After all this, we cannot doubt that we have before us
in every cell an individual; but whether with the cell we
have reached the lowest grade of the individual, which is
still Organism, this may still appear doubtful.
We distinguish, namely, in most cells: cell-wall, cell-
content, kernel or nucleus, and usually also, in addition,
kernel-corpuscle or nucleolus. These parts are decidedly
to be regarded as organs of the cell, having their special
functions. The cell-wall regulates the income and out-
going according to quantity and quality; the nucleolus takes
WOL. II. O
2 IO PHILOSOPHY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS.
care for propagation or increase of the cells (cells without
nucleolus are infertile); the nucleus Secures the continu-
ance of the cell, and probably directs the chemical trans-
formations and productions in the interior of the cell.
If the relative independence of these organs is to be
regarded as established, one can hardly dispute whether
they are still organic individuals, for undoubtedly within
every such sphere there takes place an organic reci-
procal action of the parts for the sake of the function to
be exercised.
This relative independence of the organs of the cell,
inferred by me a priori, has recently received a needed
confirmation through the inquiries and observations of the
botanist Hanstein, which he has made especially on the
cells of some vegetable capillaries, but also on the
parenchyma cells of different plants. In the large hair-
cells of the Cucurbitaceae and many Compositae, e.g., one
sees the cell-nucleus suspended about the middle of the
cell by protoplasmic bands, “like the spider in its web.”
The protoplasmic bag-like covering of the nucleus, the
bands, and the cell-wall exhibit the most varied move-
ments, by means of which the main and side currents of
the fluid cell-content circulating in the cell must be
explained. Independent of the latter, however, because
without reference to their direction, and often even
opposed to it, are the movements of the cell-nucleus,
which require now a few minutes, now, however, even
several hours, to traverse about the space of the cell.
Now they are rectilinear, now frequently interlaced, now
the nucleus intersects the cell crosswise, now it creeps
along clinging to a wall. By this both nucleus and
nuclear envelope and bands constantly change their
form, and the nuclear corpuscle changes its situation in
the nucleus.-In the division of the cell, also, charac-
teristic modes of movement take place. In the first
place, the nucleus repairs to the centre, and the bands
draw nearer to form a heap of plasma. Then the nuclear
METAPHYSIC OF THE UN CONSCIOUS. 2 II
corpuscle first divides into two, and thereupon the
nucleus is halved by a fine, just perceptible border,
until the division reaches also the protoplasmic mass, in
which gradually a new wall of cellulose is formed. Now
the two new nuclei (in medulla - parenchyma – cells of
Dicotyledons) betake themselves tolerably quickly to the
wall, creeping to opposite sides of the old cell-wall, where
they rest a certain time before they again begin their
normal life. “Thus, then, the cell-nucleus, through the
changeability of its own form, as well as through the
still greater one of its covering, and through the restless
shifting and remodelling of the bands which issue from
it and keep it in suspension, acquires a striking resem-
blance to a young plasmode or an amoebiform organism.
Nay, it resembles such an one during its creeping about
to such a degree, that substantially only the union
with the wall-protoplasm serves as a point of distinction.”
According to this, Hanstein adopts the above-mentioned
view of Brücke, “according to which the whole proto-
plasmic system must be conceived as an individualised
organism, i.e., a living, moving, proper being, consisting
of nucleus, peripheral envelope, and radial or net-like
uniting members, and found within its self-formed shell,
the cellulose wall, in continual motion, which consists
in a gliding hither and thither, and a consequent shifting
and constant remodelling of the internal articulation. As
the mollusc not only constructs its own shell, but moves
within the same, so the protoplasmic body within its cellu-
lar membrane. Not the currents in the bands, not the cell
nucleus, not the primordial sac per Sé are the seat and cause
of the movement. The whole protoplasmic body, which is
not a substance, but an organism, moves in all its parts, now
simultaneously, now alternately, as indivisible, amoebiform,
vitalised, proper being, which of course in the higher plants
is only partial existence of a larger whole” (“Botanische
Zig,” 1872, Nos. 2 and 3).
If in the Monera or protoplasmic primitive animals the
\
2 I 2 PHILOSOPHY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS.
observation of the microscope cannot establish any
morphological differentiation of the apparently homo-
geneous slimy clot, there still follows from the fact
that the essentially different behaviour of the Monera in
propagation and nutrition has already necessitated the
discrimination of seven different kinds, that doubtless an
inner differentiation must exist. If the viscidity or ten-
acity of an extremely fluid water-drop is at its surface
very much greater than in its interior, and this difference
increases in an astonishing degree in aqueous albuminous
solutions, it must certainly obtain in a viscous proto-
plasmic drop or clot, even when the condensation at the
surface does not reach such a degree as to become visible
to the eye as Solid cell-envelope, to say nothing of its
being separable as isolated membrane; the statements
with respect to cells destitute of membranes or plasmic
clots are therefore always to be understood cum grano
Salis. Even when an intussusception of solid pigment-
molecules is proved by means of amoebiform movements, a
certain viscosity of the state of aggregation of the surface
is always apparent, but considerable difference of the
state of aggregation between surface and content is by
no means refuted. (The formation of an envelope in
drops has recently been very well observed by Famintzin
in solutions of carbonate of lime, by allowing concen-
trated solutions of chloride of calcium and carbonate of
potash to act upon one another with gradual addition of
water.) In a similar manner, as a condensation takes
place at the surface even before it becomes visible, can
a condensation also take place at the centre without
being perceptible to the eye. Under all circumstances,
however, the Superficial condensation must occasion a
functional difference from the less dense content, as is
manifested in the absorption of booty. In the same
way the inner condensation of the centre must condition
a functional difference, as it appears in the division
proceeding from within. Where, then, cell-membrane
METAPHYSIC OF THE UNCONSCIOUS. 2 I 3
and nucleus appear to be wanting, whilst yet the cell
manifestly performs the functions thereto appertaining,
there must necessarily exist analogues of these organs
imperceptible to the eye. Only in this way can we
understand the development of nucleated membranous
cells from simple plasmic clots, as required by the Theory
of Descent. How overhasty it were, relying on the mere
visible appearance, to deny a differentiation of the Monera
into organs of various functions is eminently proved,
besides the indiscernibility of an actual membrane at
the apices of several cilia, by the analogy with the
just fertilised ovum, in whose apparent molecular homo-
geneity those differences must yet exist, so that in its
development to the child “the finest mental and bodily
peculiarities of the parents are afterwards manifested in
the same. We must here stand still in wonderment and
admiration before the almost infinite delicacy of albumin-
ous matter” (Häckel, “Natiirliche Schöpfungsgeschichte,”
2d edit., p. 179).
These would, then, be the lowest individuals which
could be called organic. There is a question, how-
ever, whether we are altogether entitled to require of an
individual that it be organism. This much is certain, as
long as a thing has parts, so long must these parts be in
organic reciprocal connection, if the teleological unity of
relation is not to fail; i.e., as long as a thing has parts it
must be organism, if it is to be individual. But how if
a thing has no more parts : If of a thing with parts one
requires the most intimate causal relation of the parts
only that it may possess the greatest possible unity in all
directions, should then this greatest possible unity not
exist in yet far higher degree where the thing is in its
nature simple, i.e., without parts, thus this requirement
is from the first rendered superfluous ! The unity of
place, cause, and purpose is, eo ipso, given with the sim-
plicity of the thing; but the requirement of reciprocity of
the parts, which in the compound thing was a necessary
2 I4. PHILOSOPHY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS.
evil, has here been fortunately superseded, since all the
parts are reduced to one, which is at the same time the
whole; the unity of the simplicity is thus much stronger
than the unity of the reciprocation of the parts. It does
not detract from the worth of the present argument when
the notion of unity is asserted to be inapplicable to the
simple, for we had only reached the notion of unity by
seeking what is individual, i.e., what in its mature cannot
be divided. This is, however, undoubtedly at least as
much the case in the Simple as in the complex unity, nay,
even still more than in the latter, for the unity consisting
of united parts always carries in itself the possibility of
resolution into parts, but not the simple.
Such a simple thing, which thus has the highest claim
to the conception of the individual, we are cognisant of,
however, in the immaterial functional atomic force, which
consists in a single continued act of will. Save the atoms
there can be no individuals in the inorganic sphere, for
everything which consists of several atoms has these for its
parts, and must accordingly be organism if it is to be indi-
vidual. It is thus wrong to call, a crystal or a mountain
an individual. On the other hand, we may very well call
the heavenly bodies, so far as they are still living, indi-
viduals, for they are then in fact organisms; but with
their extinction the individuality also perishes, as in
animals and plants. Whoever doubts that a living
Astrum, such as the earth, is an organism, need only
study the mutual action of atmosphere and interior
in the circulation of water, the reciprocal action of
stratification and lower animal kingdom, as well as
the strata among themselves in the metamorphosis of
rocks, and the mutual action of the organic kingdoms.
In short, let him study geology, meteorology, and the
household of Nature on the large scale. He will every-
where find revealed the essence of the organic world,
preservation and improvement of form by change of
matter, without it being thereby implied that the direct
METAPHYSIC OF THE UNCONSCIOUS. 2 I 5
participation of the will of the Unconscious (beyond
the atomic forces in the actual combinations and the
organisms concerned in the formation of the strata) is
requisite for that end.
Let us now consider how the conscious individual is
related to the material, or, better expressed, external
individual. It is at once evident that only where an
external individual is given can a conscious individual
become possible; but a conscious individual need not
arise in every external individual. The easternal indi-
vidual is thus a condition, but not the sufficient reason, of
the conscious individual.
We have seen that a certain kind of material motion
with a certain intensity is the condition of the origin of
consciousness. All those external individuals must thus
be excluded from the production of a conscious individual
which do not fulfil these conditions in the character or
strength of their movements. It is just possible that the
atomic forces, perhaps also several cells of a too solid or a
too fluid mature, are in this case. Inorganic masses without
external individuality have evidently also no conscious
individuality, for even if the several atoms are to have
their consciousness, this would always remain in atomistic
dispersion through lack of a uniting bond, but could never
reach a higher unity. Where we first find visible traces
of consciousness is in the cell with semi-fluid content (pro-
toplasm of the protists); here undoubtedly the unity of
consciousness is introduced through the same conditions as
its origin, since the part of the cell-content satisfying these
conditions is distributed homogeneously to all sides of the
cell. We shall then be permitted to assume that where
consciousness is present in a cell, an inner conscious indi-
viduality also corresponds to the external individuality.
Where several cells coalesce to form an individual of
higher order, the consciousnesses of the single cells by no
means need be united into a higher unity, for this depends
on the presence and excellence of the communication.
2 I6 PHILOSOPHY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS.
However, the assertion may not appear venturesome, that
between fresh, vitally active cells there always takes
place a certain amount, however small, of communication
—at least always between two neighbouring cells; the
question is only whether the degree of excitement also
exceeds the threshold of stimulation. If through the
sensation of a cell there is likewise produced a sensa-
tion in the adjoining parts owing to irradiation, there
manifestly takes place an indirect influence from each
cell to every other; and although so indirect and mani-
festly minute an influence on several cells, on account of
the increasing resistance, must necessarily remain very soon
below the threshold, and consequently does not authorise
us to speak of a conscious individuality of the whole, yet
a certain solidarity of interests is here not to be mis-
taken. If, according to this, a conscious individual of
higher order by no means need correspond to every ex-
ternal individual of higher order, yet this much is certain,
that different conscious individuals can only then unite
to form a conscious individual of higher order, if the ex-
ternal individuals corresponding to them are fused into
an individual of higher order; for the communication
necessary for the unity of consciousness can only be set
up through the medium of highly organised matter, but
this directly sets up the unity of the form, of the organic
interaction, &c., in short, the external individual of higher
order.
Our assertion is thus verified in every respect—that
the external individuality is possibly condition, but not
sufficient cause of the conscious individuality, because the
latter also presupposes three further conditions—a cer-
tain mode, a certain Strength of material movement, and, in
individuals of higher order, a certain excellence of con-
duction. If one of these three conditions is not satisfied,
no conscious individual can correspond to the external
individual.
I believe that the division and discussion of the outer
METAPHYSIC OF THE UNCONSCIOUS. 217
and inner individual here worked out may essentially
contribute to the clearing up of the question of indivi-
duality; it is the necessary complement to the cognition
of the relativity of the conception of individuality.
The relativity of the conception of individuality is for
the rest no new cognition of the last decennia. Spinoza
says, as already mentioned above: “The human body
consists of several individuals of various nature, each of
which is very composite;” and Goethe: “Each living
thing is no single thing, but a manifold; even if it
appears to us as individual, it still remains a collection
of living, independent existences, which resemble one
another in idea, in design, but may phenomenally be like
or similar, unlike or dissimilar. The more imperfect the
creature is, the more are these parts like or similar to one
another, and the more do they resemble the whole. The
more perfect the creature is, the more dissimilar are the
parts to one another. The more similar the parts are to
one another, the less are they subordinated to one
another. The subordination of the parts points to a more
perfect creation.” (The latter observation expresses what
we have tried to illustrate by the simile of the monarchical
and republican form of government.)
The relativity of the notion of individuality was dis-
cussed most thoroughly by Leibniz, although his mode of
regarding the matter is essentially distinguished from
ours, in consequence of his different conception of
“body.” With Leibniz, each monad has an unchangeable
and imperishable body peculiar to it, which forms its fence,
and through which its finitude is established. This body
is not substance, any more than the Soul of the monads,
partially conceived, is substance; and between this body
and the soul there exists no pre-established harmony, since
it would here be superfluous; but they are both only
moments, differently directed forces, of one and the same
simple substance, the monad, which is its natural unity;
and this is Leibniz's identity of Soul and body (thought
2 I 8 PHILOSOPHY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS.
and extension). This inalienable body is, however, some-
thing purely metaphysical, and nothing physical; at
the most, in the case of the atoms, can we, in a certain
sense, allow the Leibnizian conception to pass in physical
respects. In all individuals or monads of higher order,
on the contrary, the idea of an inalienable body in
addition to the visible body, compounded of other monads
or atoms (an idea which has long made a spectral appear-
ance under the name of an ethereal body), has been
happily set aside by science : we now know that all
Organisms only maintain their existence by means of change
of matter. We will, however, do Leibniz no injustice;
what he conceived by the body peculiañ to the monad is,
at all events, a metaphysically far more tenable thought.
I suppose that he intended thereby to express nothing
more than the capacity of the immaterial monad to pro-
duce certain spatial effects, a faculty which doubtless
pertains to all monads, the highest as well as the lowest,
and which only by means of the peculiar reference of
the lines of action to a point in the atom-monads, and
their combination for sensuous perception from outside,
evokes the phenomenon of corporeity. But, at any rate,
“body” is not a happily selected word for describing the
power of acting in space, as only the combination of the
lowest kind of spatial forces has a right to this term. Let
us leave on one side, however, this inalienable monadic
body, and consider how Leibniz conceives the composition
of the monads.
When several monads come together, they form either
an inorganic aggregate or an organism. In the organism
are contained higher and lower monads, in the inorganic
aggregate only inferior monads; therefore in the former
there takes place subordination, in the latter only
co-ordination of the monads. The higher the grade of
the organism, the more prominent is the predominance
of one monad in perfection in comparison with all the
others. This is then called central monad. The higher
METAPHYSIC OF THE UNCONSCIOUS. 219
monads are obscurely and imperfectly represented by the
lower ones; the lower by the higher, on the other hand,
clearly and perfectly. “Et une créature est plus parfaite
q'une autre en ce qu'on trouve en elle ce qui sert à Tendre
raison a priori de ce qui se passe dans l'autre, et c’est
par lä, qu'on dit, qu’elle agit sur l'autre. Mais dans
les substances simples Ce n'est qu'une influence idéale
d’une monade sur l'autre’ (“Monodologie,” Nos. 50, 5 I,
p. 709). -
Leibniz denies the influºus physicus between the mo–
mads when he says these have no windows through which
anything could shine; the influous idealis which he
puts in its place consists for him only in an accord a
priori of that which the monads picture, i.e., in a pre-
established harmony. But now the relation of the central
monad in an organism to the sum of the Subordinate
monads is that which has at all times been called the
relation of soul and body. Between this body and the
soul there exists, then, according to Leibniz, certainly pre-
established harmony.
The relation between the soul and the complex change-
able body Leibniz adopted from Aristotle. It is the rela-
tion of évépyela and iſºm, spontaneously operative form or
Idea, and the material in which the Idea works. The rela-
tion of soul and inalienable proper body, on the other
hand, Leibniz adopted from Spinoza, according to whom
the one substance everywhere appears with the two in-
separable attributes—Thought and Extension. Both rela-
tions coincide in a remarkable manner in the lowest, the
atom-monads, and that too through the simple artifice of
Nature, of referring all the efficient tendencies of such a
monad to a point. Unfortunately Leibniz did not suffi-
ciently separate these two meanings of body, tending to
confusion, and has therefore been frequently misunder-
stood.
What is essential for us in the Leibnizian doctrine is the
aggregation of several monads or individuals into a com-
22O PHILOSOPHY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS.
pound which (as body) is subordinate to a monad or an
individual of higher order (as soul). Had the results of
modern physics, anatomy, physiology, been at the command
of Leibniz, he would not have neglected to carry further
his theory with respect to atoms, cells, and Organisms; but
as it was, it remained only a stroke of genius without
the necessary empirical supports—What, on the other
hand, we can not accept is the artificial and unsatisfactory
hypothesis of the pre-established harmony, by which all
real happening is altogether abolished, and the world-
process is disintegrated into an unrelated juxtaposition of
separate trains of ideas in inactive isolated monads. If
Leibniz expressly excludes all real influence of the mo-
nads on One another, yet the influous idealis which he
puts in place of the influºus physicus is an ill-chosen, be-
cause misleading expression. For undoubtedly, according
to him, the content of the chain of ideas in each monad
must at any given point of time correspond to the ideal
chain of every other monad in a certain fashion, but this
correspondence (chiming, harmony) is by no means said
to result from this, that (say) the idea of a monad
determines by an ideal influence the simultaneous
idea of another (as one might indeed suppose from
the wording influºus idealis), but from this, that the
content of the flow of ideas has been predetermined or
predestined from all eternity and for ever and ever for
every monad, and is predestined, moreover, in such a way,
that between the various trains of ideas there always
exists a certain harmony. The harmony thus predeter-
mined or pre-established is accordingly a sportive mechan-
ism, which, moreover, is quite aimless; for if, for example,
the various ideal currents had a velocity so different that
harmony never took place between them, the monads would
notice nought thereof, and would behave themselves just the
same as in the contrary case. This theory, which abolishes
all influence of the monads on One another, thus all causa-
lity, is consequently perfectly useless.
METAPHYSIC OF THE UNCONSCIOUS. 22 I
What further distinguishes us from Leibniz is the
knowledge we have gained—firstly, that the organic indi-
vidual of higher order only subsists in the particular unity
of the individuals of lower order, and that the conscious
individual altogether only arises through a reciprocal action
of certain material parts of the organic individual with the
Unconscious. It follows from this that the central monad
or the central individual, neither in respect of the organism
nor in respect of consciousness, is something standing be-
yond or outside the subordinate monads or individuals, but
that if, in the higher individual, something else is con-
tained in addition beyond the union of the inferior indi-
viduals, this can only be an unconscious factor. But in
regard to this unconscious factor, which we have come to
know as the regent in the Organic and conscious life of
the individual, the question may arise whether we have to
do with a central monad separate for each individual, or
whether the functions of the Unconscious proceed from a
being identical and common for all individuals 2 Since, in
conclusion, even Ileibniz saw himself compelled to trans-
form the unrelated coadjacency of his windowless monads
into their coinherence, i.e., to take up all monads into
an absolute central monad, one may also put the question
thus: Do the bundles of rays of unconscious psychical
functions in the different individuals point directly to one
and the same absolute centre, or do they in the first in-
stance lead to different relative centres, and only mediately
through these to the universal centre of the world 2 In
this culminates the question with respect to the indivi-
duality of the Unconscious, after one has assured oneself
in general of the unity of the Unconscious as such. In
conformity with the importance of this problem we discuss
it in a chapter of its own.
( 222 )
VII.
THE ALL-ONENESS OF THE UNCONSCIOUS,
THAT to the Unconscious, as actively manifested in an
organic and individual consciousness, there is not wanting
strict unity, is probably at once evident We altogether
know the Unconscious only by means of causality; it is
just the cause of all those events in an organic and Con-
scious individual which lead us to suppose a psychical and
yet not conscious cause. All that we have found within
this Unconscious of distinctions or parts is limited to the
two moments Will and Idea, and of these we have also
indeed again perceived the inseparable unity in the Un-
conscious. But in case some one should insist that Will
and Idea are to be conceived as different parts of the one
Unconscious, yet their reciprocity in the motivation of
the Will through the Idea and arousing of the Idea
by means of the interest of the Will would be quite un-
mistakable. What in the organism we were still com-
pelled to apprehend as unity through mutual action of the
parts is in the One cause of these events taken up into
the unity of the end, to which these several activities of
the one and another part are all posited only as common
means. The unity of Time in the continuity of action is
likewise present. The unity of Space can here, of course,
be no longer spoken of, because we have to do with a non-
spatial being ; in the effects, however, it is just as much
present as the unity of Time. Thus much, then, is settled,
that the unity of the psychically Unconscious in the indi-
vidual is the strictest one can find. It is, however, not
*
METAPHYSIC OF THE UNCONSCIOUS. 223
implied in this that there are unconsciously psychical in-
dividuals, for if the unity of the Unconscious were so
strict that it undividedly embraced in itself all the uncon-
sciously-psychical, wherever it might be operative in the
world, there would be only one Unconscious, and not several
Unconscious; then there would be also no longer indivi-
duals in the Unconscious, but the entire Unconscious
would be as one single individual, without Subordinate, co-
ordinate, or super-ordinate individuals. Since also Matter
and Consciousness are phenomenal forms of the Uncon-
scious, this being would then be the all-embracing indi-
vidual which is all-being, the absolute individual, or the
individual cat' ééoxiv.
In organisms we had no occasion to raise the question
whether we then had actually several things and not one
before us, because the spatial distinction of the form
answered it by anticipation. In the case of consciousness
we have answered the question, which could hardly be
decided d priori, in conformity with internal experience,
which teaches us that the consciousness of Peter and
Paul, of brain and abdominal ganglia, are not one, but
many and different. In the Unconscious, however, this
question is robbed of half its force; since the essence of
the Unconscious is non-spatial, and the inner experience of
consciousness of course says nothing at all about the Un-
conscious. Nobody is directly aware of the unconscious
Subject of his own consciousness. Everybody knows it only
as the in itself unknown psychical cause of his conscious-
ness. What ground could he have for the assertion that
this unknown cause of his consciousness is another than
that of his neighbour, whose immediate knowledge is just
as limited as his own 2. In a word, immediate inner or
outer experience affords us no aid in deciding this impor-
tant alternative, which accordingly is provisionally a per-
fectly open question. In such a case the maxim carries
full authority that principles are not to be unnecessarily
multiplied, and that in the absence of direct experience
224 PHILOSOPHY OF THE UNCONSCIO US.
the Simplest assumptions are always to be entertained.
According to this, the unity of the Unconscious would
have to be supposed so long as the opponent of this
simplest assumption had not satisfactorily relieved him-
self of the onus probandi incumbent upon him. But of this
no attempt is yet known to us; for Herbart's proposition,
“As much appearance, so much indication of existence,”
can manifestly only serve to prove the many-sidedness, but
not the multiplicity of being, since, as is well known, one
and the same being appears for the most part quite diffe-
rent according to different aspects. That the assumption
of direct unity is really much simpler hardly needs special
proof, since here there is only question of the relations of
the actor to his activities, and of the reciprocal action of
the activities of one and the same actor; whereas, on the
opposite assumption, the relations of different actors to
their activities, and, moreover, those of the actor and
his activities inter Se, are in question, the latter of which
must either be acknowledged to be quite inexplicable, or
be explained by the further perfectly inaccessible and in-
comprehensible relations of these many actors to the Abso-
lute standing over them and including them.
Only because the one part of my brain has a direct com-
munication with the other is the consciousness of the two
parts unified (conf. C. Chap. iii. 5. pp. II 3–II.8); and could
we unite the brains of two human beings by a path of com-
munication equivalent to the cerebral fibres, both would
no longer have two, but one consciousness. Could a union
of two consciousnesses into one, such as actually occurs, be
at all possible if the Unconscious, from which conscious-
mess is born as a sequel of natural stimulation, were not
already in itself one 7
The entire ant has one, the divided ant two conscious-
nesses; and if one Sews together the halves of two diffe-
rent polyps (thus two previously divided consciousnesses),
one polyp will result with a single consciousness. Wealth
and poverty of consciousness can make no difference in
METAPHYSIC OF THE UNCONSCIO US. 225
these inquiries involving matters of principle. As little
as any one can deny, after the foregoing considerations, that
he has as many (more or less separate) consciousnesses
as he has nerve-centres, nay, even as he has vital cells, so
much will every one rightly oppose the assertion that he
has as many unconsciously acting Souls as he has nerve-
centres or cells. The unity of purpose in the Organism,
the right operation of each single part at the right moment,
in short, the wonderful harmony of the organism, would
be inexplicable, in fact, only comprehensible as pre-
established harmony, unless the soul in the body were one
and indivisible, acting, however, synchronously in all parts
of the organism where its action is required, unless it
were one and the same soul which regulates here breathing,
there excretion, which here in the brain conditions the
brain-consciousness, there in the ganglia the ganglia-con-
sciousness. If the cutting into shreds of the lower animals
shows us that the same mind, which before governed the
different parts in the whole animal and produced the dif-
ferent kinds of consciousness, continues also to be func-
tional unaltered after division, can we then believe that the
corporeal section may also have cleft the soul and divided it
into two parts, can by division of a mere aggregate of atoms
the non-spatial soul accidentally governing them be at all
conceived as affected, save So far as the conditions of its
activity are changed ?
But if the soul in two artificially separated pieces of
an animal is still One, must it not remain undivided also
in the spontaneous throwing-off of buds, claws, &c. 2
and likewise in bisexual generation, where one her-
maphrodite animal begets with itself (e.g., tape-worm) :
(See more particularly the ninth chapter.) If the un-
conscious soul in the separate portions of an insect, or
in the stem and the detached buds, is still ome, must it
not be the same also in the insects separate by nature of
a community of bees or ants, which even without union
of the organisms in space still act as harmoniously on
WOL. II. P
226 PHILOSOPHY OF THE UN CONSCIOUS.
One another as the several parts of the same organism?
Should not the clairvoyance, which we have found every-
where recurring in the invasions of the Unconscious, and
which is so supremely astonishing in the limited indivi-
dual, should not it alone invite this solution, that the
apparently individual acts of clairvoyance are simply
announcements of the everywhere identical Unconscious,
wherewith at once everything miraculous in clairvoy-
ance disappears, since now the seer is also the soul of the
seen 2 And if it is possible for the unconscious soul of
an animal to be simultaneously present and purposively
active in all organs and cells of the animal, why should not
an unconscious world-soul be simultaneously present and
purposively efficient in all organisms and atoms, since
indeed the one as the other must be thought as unloca-
lised ?
What opposes this conception is only the old prejudice
that the Soul is the consciousness; so long as one has not
risen above this view and perfectly extirpated every
obscure remnant of such a belief from his mind, so long
must that all-unity of the Unconscious be certainly covered
by a veil. Only when one has come to see that conscious-
ness does not belong to the essence, but to the phenomenon,
that thus the plurality of consciousness is only a plurality
of the appearance of the One, only then will it be possible to
emancipate oneself from the power of the practical instinct,
which always cries “I, I,” and to comprehend the essential
unity of all corporeal and spiritual phenomenal individuals,
which Spinoza apprehended in his mystical conception and
declared the One Substance. It is no contradiction to the
all-unity of the Unconscious that the individual self-feel-
ing, which at first is present only as slight practical instinct,
with growing elaboration of consciousness is ever more
heightened and sharpened to pure Self-consciousness, that
thus the appearance indestructible for conscious thought
of the individual egoity only emerges the more dis-
tinctly, the keener conscious thought becomes; this, I say,
METAPHYSIC OF THE UNCONSCIOUS. 227
is no contradiction to the Monism of the Unconscious, for
all conscious thought remains indeed entangled in the
conditions of consciousness, and can by its nature never
be elevated above them in direct fashion, must rather be
the more wrapt round by the deceptive veil of Maja,
the more it displays its proper nature. The unity of
the Unconscious may very well exist at the same time,
of that namely, which never can come into consciousness,
because it lies behind it, as the mirror can never mirror
itself (at the most its own image in a second mirror).
Certainly as long as one has not rigidly separated and
explicated the Unconscious, so long that objection exists
in full force, and so long can the idea of the all-unity not
be rationally comprehended and approved, but only be
mystically conceived, in Spite of the opposition of con-
Sciousness.
Another point which is often made use of as cheap
ridicule against Monism is the paradox that the One
contends with itself as a self-parted being, that, e.g., the
One Existence is in conflict with itself, like two hungry
wolves, each of whom endeavours to devour the other.
Two problems are here intermingled: firstly, the problem
of the Sundering of the One into the many, and, secondly,
the question how the Many, if they are indeed only
realisations or objectifications or phenomena of the One
can turn against One another in strife and discord. The
first problem, that of individuation, will be treated of in
a special chapter (C. Chap. xi.), and only under the presup-
position that this will be solved in a satisfactory manner
is there any Sense in occupying ourselves with the second
Question. Here I shall only say this much, that a self-
disunion would only be incomprehensible if the One
Surrendered its unity (and with it a piece of its essence);
that, on the contrary, a self-disunion into a secondary
(because phenomenal) plurality, in which unity is pre-
served in plurality, just brings multiplicity into the
abstract unity, or, more accurately expressed, that a
228 PHILOSOPHY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS.
Sundering of the One into plurality cannot be objection-
able, if thereby be meant not a splitting of the one sub-
stance into many isolated substances, but manifestations of
the One existing and abiding being in a plurality of func-
tions. But if this plurality of different functions is once
given, then, in consequence of the circumstance that they
are functions of one being, the ideal difference of their
content must necessarily exert an ideal influence on one
another striving after equilibrium, which ideal compromise,
however, becomes a real conflict through this, that the
ideal moments compromising one another are at the same
time contents of real acts of will. It is thus altogether
the same process that takes place in the consciousness of
the individual as a struggle between different efforts,
desires, and passions; just as a contest is possible here
notwithstanding the unity of the mind, whose functions
are the intersecting desires, so also in the all-one Uncon-
scious. The struggle of two passions in a human mind in
fury and destructive mercilessness need not in truth shun
comparison with the struggle of two hungry wolves. The
only difference is this, that what takes place in the sub-
jective field within an individual is withdrawn from the
direct observation of another, whereas the struggle of
different individualised; acts of will of the Unconscious
hereby possesses an objective phenomenal reality, that
the individuals engaged in conflict directly sensuously
affect one another and other unconcerned individuals.
If, on the other hand, the question is proposed in these
terms, “Why must the several functions of the One Being
be so constituted that they collide with, instead of running
undisturbed beside, one another ?” the 'answer is to be
sought in C. Chap. iii. : “Without collision of different
acts of will no consciousness,”—and consciousness it is
that is in point. -
Hitherto we have shown, on the one hand, that there is
and can be no reason which tells against the unity of
consciousness, and have, on the other hand, adduced various
METAPHYSIC OF THE UNCONSCIOUS. 229
a posteriori grounds of probability for the same. We can,
however, also settle the question directly by deduction.
from already established presuppositions, thus a priori in
the Aristotelian sense of the word.
The Unconscious is not confined to space, for it first
posits space (the idea the ideal, the will by realisation of
the idea the real). The Unconscious is thus neither great
nor small, neither here nor there, neither in the finite nor
in the infinite, neither in the figure nor in the point,
neither anywhere nor nowhere. Hence it follows that
the Unconscious can have no difference of a spatial nature
in it, Save so far as it posits the same in imaging and
acting. We are accordingly not permitted to say: that
which acts in an atom of Sirius is something else than
that which acts in an atom of the earth, but only: it acts
Žn a different manner, namely, locally different. We have
two effects without the right to suppose two beings for
these effects; for the difference of the effects only allows
us to conclude to a difference of the functions in the being;
the difference of two functions, however, by no means to
the non-identity of the functioning being. We must
reiterate : we are compelled to stop short at the simplest
assumption (the identity of the functioning essence) until
the opponents have furnished proof of non-identity; on
them, not on us, lies the burden of proof, since they sup-
pose many, we only one. At any rate, this much has been
strictly demonstrated by us, that no plurality of its essence
can appertain to the Unconscious by means of space-deter-
minations, simply because no space-determinations apper-
tain to it. In temporal differences this is much clearer still,
since we are indeed thus accustomed to acknowledge the
identity of the continuously acting being despite all tem-
poral difference, in spite of the earlier or later occurrence of
the effects. But now there are, objectively speaking, none
other than spatial differences; for what we else know as
differences, the difference of ideas inter se and the difference
of willing and thinking, are internal subjective differences
23O PHILOSOPHY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS.
of different activities of the same essence or subject, but
not a difference of different essences or subjects. Of
the difference of different ideas inter se this is at once
clear, but it also holds good of the difference of the two
fundamental activities willing and thinking, pervading all
individuals of the realm of nature, for the Unconscious is
one in willing as in conceiving, only that it here wills
and there thinks; it is related to those activities as Spinoza's
substance to its attributes. (More in detail in C. Chap.
xiv. 4.) All distinction known to us between existing
things turns upon spatial and temporal determinations.
Space and time are the sole principium individuationis
known to us. To assert with Schopenhauer that they are
the only possible principium individuationis would be to
assert too much, for there might be worlds in which other
forms of existence than space and time obtain. But apart
from this, that the burden of proof of the existence of such
falls on the shoulders of opponents, and until the impos-
sible production of this proof we have not to trouble our-
selves about such empty possibilities, yet even such forms
of existence in their particular worlds, just as space and
time with us, would only have phenomenal existence, i.e.,
it could be shown that they can just as little be determina-
tions of the Unconscious as space and time with us, and
they would accordingly be just as unsuitable as these
would be for establishing a plurality of essence in the
Unconscious. If, then, the Unconscious can be burdened
with a plurality of being neither by spatial nor other
differentiae, it must just be a simple unity.
We may further add an indirect proof to this direct one
from admitted presuppositions. Suppose the case, namely,
that the phenomenal separation of individuals did not rest
merely on a plurality of functions of the existence under-
lying them, but on a non-identity of the essence, on a
plurality of existing substances, no real relations would
be possible among the individuals as they in fact exist.
This is one of the greatest achievements of the great
METAPHYSIC OF THE UNCONSCIO US. 23.I
Leibniz, that in spite of its extremely fatal (and for his
system even ruinous) consequences, he admitted this pro-
position honourably and candidly. Herbart occupies here
a far inferior position, for after having made from the
plurality of appearance the false inference to the plurality
(instead of the many-sidedness) of existence, he posits the
mutual disturbances of these many existences (simple
reals) as something self-evident, instead of, like Leibniz,
conceding it to be something impossible. Whoever Once
recognises several substances (i.e., several beings, each of
which is self-subsistent, and would continue to Subsist
even if everything else round about were suddenly to
cease to exist), must also confess that these monads can
not only have no windows through which an influous
idealis could shine, but also that there is no possibility of
seeing how entities, which participate in nought and have
nothing in common, should be able to come into any
metaphysical contact whatsoever. Each individual must
rather represent an isolated world for itself. If one tried
to suppose a metaphysical bond, to which would fall
the part of a mediator, the difficulty to resolve would be,
how this newly added substance should be able to enter
into real relation with each of the existing substances.
For if one tried to imagine this tie somewhat as a function
of the Absolute or as the Absolute itself, it is to be re-
marked, on the contrary (apart from the circumstance
that in many substances the discussion, strictly speaking,
cannot be of One Absolute, but only of as many absolutes
as substances), that a real relation between a so-called
Absolute and one of several substances only appears less
incomprehensible than the relation between two of the
many substances, because fancy is more readily inclined to
ascribe to the so-called Absolute the power of incomprehen-
sible achievements. The influence of the Absolute on the
many only, however, becomes comprehensible if the so-
called Absolute is converted from a substance actually
limited by the many into an unlimited, genuinely all-em-
232 PHILOSOPHY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS.
bracing substance, which thus contains the many as integral
parts of itself. But then, in truth, the many are denuded
of their independence and substantiality, and degraded to
sublated moments of the one absolute. This step, which
again in the last resort dissolves the intended Pluralism
into Monism, both Leibniz in the all-embracing central
monad, as well as Herbart in the credited god-creator, saw
themselves necessitated to take, without however re-
cognising the incompatibility of this change with the
retention of the foundations of their systems, and without
employing this step for the explanation of the influous
physicus, or the causality of the monads among themselves,
which must necessarily miscarry without it, but results
in a perfectly unforced manner from the essential identity
of the many in the One.
Although Pluralism is not able to maintain itself in
its proper form as soon as it realises its own conse-
quences, it yet tries to maintain itself in the illusory
light of consciousness in a more modest form as it were
within a reluctantly admitted Monism. The inherently
contradictory conception of derived substance is especially
employed for this purpose. Substance is that which is in
7tself (not in another) and subsists through itself (without
the aid of another); the derived substance, however,
is said not to be in itself, but in the absolute substance,
and not to subsist through itself, but only through the
absolute substance. Derived substance thus evinces itself
as not-substance; it evinces itself as particular mode and
manner (modus) of the manifestation of the Absolute,
or, as we now Say, as phenomenon. Now Pluralism fur-
ther tries to at least raise the phenomenon of the indi-
vidual mind to a higher category of phenomena, or to
lower the rest of phenomena one degree, as if they were
mediate results of that phenomenon. This is, however,
so incorrect, that in a certain sense the contrary is true,
so far, namely, as the individual mind results on the
one side only from the material phenomena. The light
METAPHYSIC OF THE UNCONSCIO U.S. 233
radiating from the unconscious central sun strikes upon
the concave mirror of organisms, and is reflected and
united in the focus of the self-conscious mind. In this
way arise the separate centres of the individual conscious
minds, but with these the absolute centre does not com-
municate directly, but only by means of the unconscious
rays (functions) affecting the organism (the brain), which
are reflected from this to the focus of consciousness. None
of those functions which are ascribed to the unconscious
rule of the organism proceed from these separate centres; if
there is in respect of the latter a separate centre still to
be assumed for every individual, there must be a second
beside that first one ; in this second one then we must
imagine the functional rays issuing from the absolute
centre to be bent or broken. How such a refraction is
to take place in such an imaginary centre would be here
quite unintelligible, whilst reflection on the organism or
its organ of consciousness is a perfectly intelligible image.
Through the accumulated difficulties of these separate
centres, however, the explanation of the facts would not
be in the least assisted, i.e., these mathematical points
of refraction of the function-rays of the absolute centre,
not to be conceived as substantial but ideal, form a merely
embarrassing and uselessly interpolated hypothesis.
However we may try to save for the individuals a reality
and independence exceeding that of simple phenomenality,
it is love's labour lost if intended to favour the unphilo-
Sophical partiality of the consciousness doting upon its
own ego. As all plurality of individuation belongs to the
sphere of phenomenality, everything placed beyond phe-
nomenality also falls outside the plurality of the individuals
into the all-one Unconscious and its direct activity. Only
in this way has the absolute central monad of Leibniz the
power to strip off the contradiction which clings to it,
namely, by identifying itself again with Spinoza's One
substance, in which the many individuals or monads are
reduced to dependent phenomenal forms or modes.
234 PHILOSOPHY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS.
This going back of Leibniz on Spinoza is, however, as
little a retrogression as the falling back of modern physi-
cal Science: in both cases, through the progress of experi-
ence and induction, one is enabled to comprehend and to
prove a posterior the mystical conceptions of genius of an
elder mind. Such a falling back upon great predecessors
is thus a genuine progress and a permanent gain, for it
may be allowed me once more to mention that the course
of philosophy is the transformation of the mystical concep-
tions of genius into rational cognition. (Conf. B. Chap. ix.)
Wherever we may look among the original philosophi-
cal or religious systems of the first rank, everywhere do
we meet with the tendency to Monism, and it is only stars
of second or third magnitude which find satisfaction in
an external dualism or still greater division. Even in
declared polytheistic religions, as the Greek and the dif-
ferent Northern mythologies, one perceives this tendency
to Monism, both in the oldest conceptions, and in the later
modes of feeling of deeper religious minds; and even in the
more philosophical ways of thinking of Christian Monism,
the world is only a phenomenon posited by God, which has
only continuance (subsistence) so long as it is preserved, i.e.,
is being continually renewed. All systems tending to Mon-
ism have not succeeded in really reaching it, yet one feels
the unmistakable need of a unitarian world-conception,
and only the shallowest religions and philosophical sys-
tems have rested contented with an external dualism (e.g.,
Ormuzd and Ahriman, God and World, World-Orderer and
Chaos, Force and Matter, &c.), or any sort of plurality.
There is no conception which the impressionable mystic
mind more readily adopts than this—to apprehend the
world as an indivisible Being, to feel oneself as part
of this Being, but a part in which, at the same time,
indwells the whole, and penetrated by this contrast to
indulge the religious feeling of the sublimity of this
vast Being and the Sense of the ego's participation
therein. Owing to Christianity this one existence has
METAPHYSIC OF THE UNCONSCIOUS. 235
been called in the Teutonic languages God, and the
view which asserts that this one existence is the
all or the whole has been accordingly entitled Pan-
theism (in the widest sense of the term). Rightly un-
derstood, one may certainly let the word pass. I prefer,
however, on account of the misunderstandings to which it
is exposed, the synonymous term Monism, according to
our explanation of Pantheism. Orthodox Catholicism
and shallow rationalistic Protestantism, both of which
thought to exalt God while they lowered him (attributing
to him human passions), have undoubtedly always con-
demned and burnt as heretics the deeper minds in the
Christian Church who perceived and declared the need of
this Monism (e.g., Eckhard, Giordano Bruno), but out of all
such persecutions the tendency to the monistic purifying
of Christianity has always emerged in greater strength,
and has been ever gaining in influence over discerning
minds. Schelling says: “That in God alone is being,
and therefore all being is only the being of God; this
thought neither reason nor feeling can take away. It
is the thought to which alone all hearts beat" (Werke,
Abth. ii. vol. ii. p. 39); and “That everything is from
God has been at all times felt, as it were ; nay, one may
say: just this is the true primitive feeling of humanity”
(Werke, Abth. ii. vol. iii. p. 280). This mystic primitive
feeling of mankind in the form of a tendency to Monism
often indeed only realised in an extremely defective
manner, but with the exception of the sceptics always
perceptible, runs like a red streak through all philosophy
from the oldest Indian traditions down to the present day.
Since a survey, however hurried, of the whole period would
be impracticable with our space, I limit myself to sketch-
ing with a few strokes the most recent epoch in this
respect.
The being which underlies the appearance of the object
of perception was called by Kant the “thing of itself.”
It is remarkable that Kant never drew from his doctrine
236 PHILOSOPHY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS,
that space and time do not belong to the thing of itself,
but only to its appearance, the rather obvious conclusion
that there cannot be things of themselves, but only thing
of itself in the singular, since all plurality only arises
through space and time. On the other hand, he himself
(Kant, Werke, ii. 288, 289, and 303) made the remark,
that the thing of itself and the intelligible underlying the
empirical ego could hardly be one and the same existence,
since between the two there positively could be no further
difference specified. This is one of the touches where the
involuntary tendency of great minds towards Monism can-
not be denied. That Kant, nevertheless, was so timid in
his inferences lay in this, that he formed the commence-
ment of the modern epoch of philosophy, an epoch in
which the work formerly concentrated on one or two men
of genius had to be distributed over the shoulders of
several, because this work became the more difficult the
more often the old problems re-emerged in novel and
sharper form, and the more the circuit of knowledge and
of experience expanded.
What Kant entertained as timid supposition, that the
thing of itself and the active subject might be one and
the same existence, Schopenhauer declared as catgorical
assertion, in that he recognised the will as the positive
character of this essence. (Comp. my “Gesammelte
philos. Abhandlungen,” No. iii.) It has already been
mentioned above (i. 29, 30, and I2O), that Schopenhauer's
Will altogether comports itself as if it were united with
perception, without Schopenhauer admitting it.
Fichte mistook the truth of the Kantian hint. He
denies to the appearance of the thing all existence
independent of the perceiving subject, and turns it into
a phenomenon entirely posited by the perceiving sub-
ject.' Thus the thing of itself loses its immediate essen-
tial being in the Ego. Only what exists in the form of
an ego has with Fichte being, and dead Nature, so far as
it does not enter into this form, remains a phenomenon
METAPHYSIC OF THE UNCONSCIOUS, 237
purely subjective, i.e., merely posited by the subject. But
Fichte also was compelled to bend in his own fashion to
Monism ; the Ego is denuded of the accidental character
of this or that limited empirical ego, being raised to the
Absolute Ego. The Absolute Ego is the existence which
alone is all the different, accidental, empirical limited
egos, for the Being which is developed in the process of
the Absolute Ego is the same which produces this process
in its accidental empirical limitation; so that herewith
the many egos also again became lowered only to pheno-
mena of the One Absolute.
Schelling tries in his Transcendental Idealism to deduce
the wealth of the external world, with its manifold deter-
minations which had shrunk with Fichte into the bald
abstraction of the non-ego, from the activity of the
ego. But while he explains the agreement of the intui-
tions of the various limited egos from the equally strongly
emphasised unity of the infinite intelligence or of the
Absolute Ego in the finite intelligences or limited egos, the
standpoint of transcendental idealism necessarily leads him
to the Natural Philosophy, where, without reference to the
limited ego's, he undertakes to directly deduce the extra-
mundane determinations from the absolute ego or pure
subject, and here, among other natural determinations, of
course, also lights upon the mind and its products. In
both systems he proceeds from the identity of subject and
object; only this absolute subject-object makes its appear-
ance at one time more from the subjective, at another
time more from the objective side.
The method hereby employed of the pure subject
gradually positing itself as object, which withdraws from
all objectification into its gradually enhanced subjectivity,
led Hegel to his dialectical method.
“The method is only the movement of the concept
itself, but with the significance that the concept is all, and
its movement the universal absolute activity.”
Hegel perceived that the deduction of Schelling has
238 PHILOSOPHY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS.
either no value at all, or a purely logical value as process
in the realm of thought, but he claimed that his logic built
upon this is at the same time ontology; that the concept is
all, i.e., sole substance and sole absolute Subject, and that the
world-process is pure dialectical self-movement of the
concept ; that thus there remains no room for the exist-
ence of a strictly non-logical, i.e., alogical (not anti-logical);
for in his imposing compact system the world was ex-
hausted with the concept raised to the absolute Idea, with
the absolute Idea Sundered in nature and returned to itself
in the spirit. (Comp. my “Ges, phil. Abhandl,” No. ii.)
Schelling in his last system (comp. “Schelling's Positive
Philosophie als Einheit von Hegel und Schopenhauer,”
Berlin, O. Löwenstein, 1869, especially the second and
third sections) maintained the negativity, i.e., purely logical
or purely rational constitution, of the Hegelian philosophy;
he thus denied that it can say what and how it is, and only
allowed that it can Say, If somewhat is, it must be thus.
He declared that, in the Hegelian and all the philosophies
preceding it there can only be question of an eternal hap-
pening. “An eternal event is, however, no event. Con-
sequently, the whole idea of that process and that move-
ment is self-illusory; properly speaking, nothing has
happened; everything has only taken place in thoughts,
and this whole movement was only a movement of
thought ° (Werke, i. IO, pp. I24–I25).
He declares existence to be the genuinely Super-rational,
which, as actuality, can now and never be in the reason,
but only in eaſperience (Werke, ii. 3, p. 69), and in
this respect calls nature and experience that which is
foreign to the reason (ibid., p. 70). If the absolute or
highest Idea has no real value, if it is no longer anything
more than bare Idea, if it is not the actually existing (ii. 3,
p. 150), even this Idea could never be Thought if it were
not thought of a thinking Subject (i. IO, p. 132). One
must then in a twofold respect go beyond the Idea as
such to a being beyond and independent of thought, to
METAPHYSIC OF THE UNCONSCIOUS. 239
something anticipating all thought (ii. 3, p. 164), to an
immemorial existence. As long as we speak of the stand-
point of the purely rational or negative philosophy of the
existing, we properly speak of the same only according
to its essence or its conception; more cannot be obtained
a priori ; the question, however, with which positive
philosophy begins runs according to that : what (gram-
matical subject) is the eaſisting (grammatical object) 7 Or, as
Schelling also expresses himself, what makes the thing
be or “becomes cause of being (aitia toû eival) to this
which is not being (u) &v), mere all-potentiality ?” “The
One is known hereby or herein that it is the Universal
Being, the Tāv, the being according to content (not
efficient being). It is therewith cognised and distin-
guished from other simple existences, as the single exist-
ence which is all ” (ii. 3, p. 174).
If the passage from the Transcendental Idealism already
cited in the Introduction (i. p. 25) be compared with ºlis,
it will be found that Schelling in his first system con-
ceived under the name “eternally unconscious ” essen-
tially that which he raised in his third system to be the
foundation of his Positive philosophy.
Thus web.ave seen in all philosophies of the modern epoch
this tendency to Monism more or less perfectly realised in
one fashion or another. What in the historic evolution
is exhibited as the culminating point of the speculative
work of modern times, the “individual which is all being ”
of Schelling, that we have evolved a posteriori by the
inductive path, or rather involuntarily gained as it were,
but now no longer as a speculative principle accessible only
to few, but with the perfectly valid proof of its empirical
authorization. By carefully separating the sphere of the
Unconscious from that of consciousness, and recognising
consciousness as a mere phenomenon of the Unconscious
(C. Chap. iii.), the contradictions were resolved in which
the natural consciousness was entangled and caught in its
endeavour after a monistic view. But not merely con-
24O
PHILOSOPHY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS.
sciousness, but also matter had proved to be a mere
appearance of the Unconscious, and everything in the
world which is not exhausted by the conceptions Matter
and Consciousness, as Organic formation, the instincts, &c.,
had been revealed (in Sections A. and B.) as the most
immediately and easily cognisable effects of the Uncon-
scious.
Herewith were (I) Matter, (2) Consciousness, and (3)
Organic formation, Instinct, &c., comprehended as three
modes of action or modes of appearance of the Uncon-
scious, and the latter as the essence of the world. Lastly,
after we had penetrated with the understanding the con-
ception of individuality on the one hand, and the proper
nature of the Unconscious on the other, so far as re-
quisite, the ultimate reason for the assumption of a plu-
rality of being in the Unconscious disappeared beneath
our hands; all plurality henceforth only belonged to the
phenomenon, not to the essence which posits the former,
but this is the One Absolute Individual, the single exist-
ence, which is All, whereas the world with its glory is
reduced to the bare phenomenon; but not to a subjectively
posited phenomenon, as in Kant, Fichte, and Schopen-
hauer, but to an objectively (as Schelling, Werke, ii. 3, p.
28O, says: “ divinely”) posited phenomenon, or, as Hegel ex-
presses it (Werke, vi. p. 97), to the “mere phenomenon, not
only for us, but of itself.” What appears to us as matter
1 This objectively posited pheno-
menal world, or this world of the
appearance in itself, is the indis-
pensable causal link between the
monistic essence on the one hand,
and the subjective phenomenal
mental-picture worlds of the many
different consciousnesses on the other;
whilst it is related to the sole Un-
conscious as the appearance to the
substance, it is related to its sub-
jective reflected images, in the
numerous conscious individuals as
the thing of itself to its (subjective)
phenomenon. Subjective Idealism
commits the error of ignoring the
indispensableness of this connect-
ing link, and of trying to recede
from the subjective phenomena of
consciousness directly to the ulti-
mate being, instead of acknowledg-
ing one objectively existing (in
Rantian terminology, transcendent)
world of things (according to Kant,
things of themselves) as archetype
of these many subjective worlds of
perception, which certainly, referred
to the sole existence, appears indeed
only as “the living garment of
Deity.” As Kant in his old age
and his school tried to repair this
subjective error of his “Kritik d. r.
METAPHYSIC OF THE UNCONSCIOUS. 24I
“is the mere expression of an equilibrium of opposite
activities” (Schelling's Werke, i. 3, p. 400), what appears
to us as consciousness is likewise a mere expression of
a conflict of opposite activities. That piece of matter
yonder is a conglomerate of atomic forces, i.e., of fiats
of the Unconscious, to attract from this point of space
in this intensity, to repel from that point in that in-
tensity. Let the Unconscious intermit these acts of will
and annul them, at the same moment this piece of
matter has ceased to exist; let the Unconscious will
anew, and the matter is there again.
V.,” so Schelling that of Fichte by
setting up his Philosophy of Nature;
so, finally, the aged Schopenhauer,
and still more his disciples, through
the recognition of a reality of the
objectifications of the One Will,
independent of the regarding con-
scious subject. (Comp, what is said
above, B. Chap. viii. vol. i. pp. 328–
331.) On the side of the theory
of Knowledge and of Metaphysics
the stream of tendency is unmistak-
able towards the conception of the
objective phenomenon; in it there is
found the permanent kernel of the
theistic conception of Creation and
Preservation (comp. C. Chap. viii.,
also above, pp. 228 and 231), of the
pantheistic conception of Emana-
tion, the scientific conception of the
“System of Dynamids” (comp. C.
Chap. v.), of the Schelling-Schopen-
hauerian conception of the objec-
tification of the Absolute Subject,
i.e., Will, of the Herbartian notion
of the “Absolute Position,” in con-
trast to the position merely relative
to consciousness, i.e., to the sub-
jective position or phenomenon, in
short everything is found in it
that has ever been thought with
... regard to the relation of existence
to its metaphysical ground. That
the word “phenomenon * is here
used in the metaphysical sense can-
not be objected to on the score that
the theory of Cognition has ob-
tained possession of it since the
rise of subjective Idealism ; for
WOL. II.
Here the prodigy of
the metaphysical signification was,
till the time of Kant, the prevail-
ing one, although it must be al-
lowed that in the confusion between
Metaphysics and theory of Cogni-
tion that special to the latter theory
was likewise contained therein.
After the complete separation of
the problem of Metaphysics and
theory of Knowledge, the word
“ phenomenon ’’ also had to be
differentiated (into “objective *
and “subjective ’’), which is the
more endurable, as different con-
trasts (“essence ’’ and “thing of
itself") are available for the two
parts. It might be well, there-
fore, not to get rid of the word
phenomenon also for the meta-
physical relation, since much of that
which Kant erroneously asserted of
the subjective appearance actually
holds good of the objective. This
arises, however, from the circum-
stance, that with Kant Metaphysics
was absorbed just as one-sidedly by
the theory of Cognition, as before
him for the most part the theory
of Cognition was swallowed up by
Metaphysics, or in other words, be-
cause he entirely carried over into
subjectivity all the “what ” of
existence, and left nothing but the
pure “that ” for the thing by itself,
so that it naturally became barer
than the barest metaphysical essence,
and a distinction between the two
became an impossibility.
242 PHILOSOPHY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS,
the creation of the material world is lost in the everyday
marvel of its preservation, renewed every moment, which
is a continuous creation. The world is only a continuous
series of sums of peculiarly combined will-acts of the
Unconscious, for it is only so long as it is continuously
posited ; let the Unconscious cease to will the world, and
this play of intersecting activities of the Unconscious
ceases to be.
It is an illusion disappearing before thorough reflection,
an illusion of the Senses in the widest sense, when we
think we have in the world, the NON-EGO, something
directly real. It is an illusion of the egoistic instinct
when we think we have in ourselves, in our ideal ego,
something directly real. The WORLD consists only of a
sum of activities or will-acts of the Unconscious, and the
ego consists of another sum of activities or will-acts of
the Unconscious. Only so far as the former activities
intersect the latter does the world become sensible to me;
only so far as the latter intersect the former do I become
sensible to myself. In the sphere of the mental repre-
sentation or pure Idea, the ideally opposed peacefully exist
side by side, and for the most part form logical combina-
tions calmly and without storms. Does, however, a will
seize these ideal opposites and make them its content,
then the will-acts filled with opposite content enter into
opposition ; they pass into real conflict (comp. above, p.
228), in which they mutually resist and threaten to de-
stroy one another, when either the one succeeds entirely
or both partially, so that they compel one another to a
compromise. Only in this conflict, the mutually offered
resistance of the individually parted will-acts of the All-
One, arises and consists that which we call reality. Not an
inactive passive substratum, like the matter criticised in
C. Chap. v., is presented, but only an active actual function
can claim the predicate of actuality. This table, e.g.,
testifies its actuality to me through the forces of repulsion
which the ether-atoms of its Superficial molecules, when
METAPHYSIC OF THE UNCONSCIOUS. 243
opposed to the superficial molecules of my body, exert in
quickly increasing progression on approximation beyond a
particular limit. This collision of the atomic wills consti-
tuting it with the atomic wills constituting my body is a
part of the efficiency or actuality of the table, and the
totality of its actuality consists in the sum of all the colli-
sions which occur between the atomic wills constituting
the table and all the other atoms of the world. If there
were nothing in the world but this table, its reality would
certainly be a far more limited one, but it would never
be quite abolished, because the atomic wills constituting
the table, if also no longer externally, yet always still
among themselves, would come into active collision. If,
however, one imagined all the atoms of the world save
one suddenly annihilated, the actuality or reality of this
one would be, in fact, thereby annihilated, since, owing to
the want of an object of the manifestation of its force, it
would be incapable of action, that is, of being actually
manifested.
Let the Unconscious change the combination of acti-
vities or acts of will which constitute me, and I have
become another ; let the Unconscious intermit these
activities, and I have ceased to be. I am a phenomenon,
like the rainbow in the cloud. Like it, I am born of the
coincidence of relations, become another in every second
because these relations become other in every second,
and shall dissolve when these relations are dissolved.
What is substance in me is not I. In the same spot
another rainbow may at Some time or other stand,
which perfectly resembles this one, but yet is not the
same, for temporal continuity is wanting ; so in my stead
an ego perfectly resembling me may also at some time or
other stand, but that will not be me. The sum alone is
always shining, which is transiently reflected from yonder
cloud; only the UNCONSCIOUS for ever rules, which is also
mirrored in my brain.
The results indicated here in broad outlines will find in
244 PHILOSOPHY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS.
Chapters ix. to xi. a varied application and development,
which it is hoped will contribute to make them appear
less repellent to readers previously confined to the way of
thinking of the practical sensuous instinct ; but first we
will try still further to elucidate the results hitherto
reached by comparing the All-one Unconscious with that
God-conception, which our educated classes are wont to
obtain from the school-Metaphysic of the religions dis-
seminated in Europe.
( 245 )
VIII.
THE UNCONSCIOUS AND THE GOD OF THEISM.
THE question may very probably be asked at the present
stage of our inquiry—Admitting that the actions of the
All-One displayed in the individual are unconscious so
far as the individual is concerned, what is the proof
that they are not conscious in the All-One Existence
itself 2 The simplest answer to this query consists in
transferring the onws probandi to its propounder. It is
not for me to prove that the unconscious physical
functions which, as such, are sufficient for explanation,
may not on the other side be conscious in the All-One ;
but those, who desire to make this, so far as the explana-
tion of the phenomena is concerned, entirely valueless and
gratuitous addition to the hypothesis, have to adduce the
proof of their assumption, which until then must be
regarded as pure assertion, and accordingly to be scien-
tifically ignored. Although this would suffice for setting
aside the foregoing objection, Ishall nevertheless enter more
fully into the matter, because the consideration of this
point will contribute to the more exact comprehension of
the Unconscious.
If hitherto Theism has usually eagerly insisted on
assigning to God a consciousness of his own in the sphere
of his divinity, this has happened for two reasons, both
of which had their justification, but from which an illegi-
timate conclusion was drawn, because the possibility of
an unconscious intelligence had never been conceived.
These two grounds are, Firstly, As regards man, re-
pugnance to the thought, in default of a conscious God,
º
246 PHILOSOPHY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS.
of being a product of blind natural forces, unintended, un-
watched, purposeless and transient result of a fortuitous
necessity. Secondly, As regards God, the fear of thinking
this Supreme existence, which, to honour to the utmost, it
was deemed necessary in scholastic fashion to furnish with
the sum of all conceivable perfections, to be destitute of
that excellence which passes with the human mind for
the highest, viz., clear consciousness and distinct self-
consciousness. Both scruples, however, disappear before
a correct estimation of the principles of the Unconscious,
which hold the golden mean between a Theism con-
structed of the floating human ideal made absolute and a
naturalism, in which the highest flowers of the mind and
the eternal necessity of natural law, from which they have
sprung, are mere result of a casual actuality, imposing to us
On account of our impotence—the right mean between con-
Scious teleology, which is conceived after the human pro-
totype, and entire renunciation of final causes. This right
mean just consists in the recognition of a final causality,
which however is not represented according to the pattern
of conscious human purposive activity by discursive reflec-
tion, but as immanent unconscious teleology of an intui-
tive unconscious intelligence is revealed in natural objects
and individuals by means of the same activity which, in
the last chapter, we described as continual creation or
conservation, or as real phenomenon of the All-One
Existence.
In our inability positively to apprehend the mode of
perception of this intelligence (comp. above, p. 49), we
are only able to indicate it through the contrast to our
own form of perception (consciousness), thus only to char-
acterise it by the negative predicate of Unconsciousness. But
we know from the previous inquiries that the function of
this unconscious intelligence is anything but blind, rather
far-seeing, nay, even clairvoyant, although this seeing can
never be aware of its own vision, but only of the world,
and without the mirrors of the individual consciousnesses
METAPHYSIC OF THE UNCONSCIOUS. 247
can also not see the seeing eye. Of this unconscious
clairvoyant intelligence we have come to perceive that in
its infallible purposive activity, embracing out of time
all ends and means in one, and always including all neces-
sary data within its ken, it infinitely transcends the halt-
ing, stilted gait of the discursive reflection of consciousness,
ever limited to a single point, dependent on sense-percep-
tion, memory, and inspirations of the Unconscious. We
shall thus be compelled to designate this intelligence,
which is superior to all consciousness, at once unconscious
and super-conscious. With this recognition, however, the
two preceding scruples with regard to the unconsciousness
of the All-One disappear. If the latter possesses a super-
conscious intelligence, all-knowing and all-wise, with all
its unconsciousness, which teleologically determines the
content of creation and of the world-process, we stand
here neither as accidental product of the forces of Nature,
nor is God dwarfed by denying Him this mode of con-
sciousness.
Accordingly the dread on the part of Theism of degrad-
ing its God by denying him consciousness appears so un-
founded, that the danger is rather the contrary of degrad-
ing him by the predication of consciousness, since his
mode of thinking is, in truth, above consciousness. That
which is really an unconditional pre-eminence is rational
$ntelligence, which Our Unconscious possesses just as truly
as the God of Theism, but that which is just the limitation
in our human intelligence, the form of consciousness de-
pending on the division of subject and object, of that
Theism must too of necessity denude its deity, if it will
make it its “most perfect of all” existences. Beyond
question for us men, consciousness and self-consciousness
are marks of Superiority, but yet not, like rational intelli-
gence, absolute marks, but only relative and conditioned,
d.e., they pass with us as prerogatives only because we
stand within the world of individuation and its limits, and
need for the greatest possible furtherance of our individual
248 PHILOSOPHY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS.
aims, as sharp a severance as possible of our self from
other persons and from the impersonal outer world,—
considerations which, as a matter of course, fall away for
the All-One Being, which has nothing outside itself. In
and by itself, however, and apart from the special problems
which arise through a position within the sphere of in-
dividuation for a limited intelligence, consciousness is no
excellence, but in comparison with the unity of attributes
in the Unconscious appears as a defect, as a disturbance
in the absolute peace of the clairvoyant unreflecting in-
tuition, as a rent in the harmony of the attributes of the
All-One, which posits dissidence in the place of concord,
and Snatches out of their indifference and Sunders sub-
ject and object, the moments reconciled and united in
the absolute IDEA (comp. “Ges. phil. Abhandlg.,” p. 64),
through this disunion. The opposition of attributes for
the genesis of consciousness, and the emergence of Subject
and object from indifference, is not at all possible within the
self-sure and self-enclosed absolute Idea as such; it rather
presupposes the splitting-up of the total function of the
All-One into the plurality of individuation, and the cross-
ing or the collision of the numerous tendencies of will
which thus arise with their partially opposite content.
Only by such conflict of the partial will with other partial
wills, through the disagreement of the ideal content of the
partial will with the compromise thrust upon it, does that
shock become possible which causes the severance of sub-
ject and object in consciousness. (Comp. C. Chap. iii. 1.)
This consciousness is based on a representation imposed
on the mind by its body, i.e., on Sense, and attains a super-
sensible content only by discursive reflection through the
medium of abstraction.
All these limitations must, as Theism itself acknow-
ledges, be removed from its God; but thereby consciousness,
which is dependent on these limitations, is itself abolished.
If consciousness can only be described as limitation, the
negation of this limitation can no longer be regarded
METAPHYSIC OF THE UNCONSCIOUS. 249
as positive defect in the All-One, since freedom from
limitation is rather a sign of Superiority. Nevertheless,
the positive superiority in point of content is formally a
defect, just, as the absence of poison-glands in the boa-
constrictor, which it does not need on account of its
greater strength, or the absence of sin in the Orthodox pic-
ture of Christ is a formal defect.—Already when, in C. Chap.
ii., we arrived inductively at the conclusion that there is
no consciousness without a brain, ganglia, protoplasm, or
other material substratum, the hypothesis of a trans-
cendent and indivisible consciousness of the world-Soul
was set aside, since the search after a material substratum
making possible this unity of consciousness would be
hopeless. By the investigations of C. Chap. iii. this
knowledge instinctively arrived at was at the same time
proved by way of pure speculation, since the metaphysical
ground of the impossibility of a consciousness without
individuation and without separation of body and mind
was made evident. If the limits of sensibility and finite
individuality are set aside, as the notion of God of itself
demands, and the limited representation be expanded to
the Absolute IDEA, still the pure matter of representation
remains, and by the removal of all finite opposition and
collision we strip off also the form of consciousness. If
one still, for one moment, tried to imagine the impossible
demand satisfied, that consciousness should be, never-
theless, preserved as form of representation, yet this form
also would have to be taken as infinitely elevated above
the consciousness known to us, and it would then be at
once apparent that the infinite form is equivalent to pure
formlessness; that the absolute consciousness demanded for
God must again prove to be identical with the absolutely
Unconscious; so that thus even for this extreme stand-
point, the phraseology being shown to be equivalent, every
motive for opposing our absolutely Unconscious must per-
force disappear. (Comp. Fichte's Collected Works, vol. i.
pp. IOO–253; Vol. v. pp. 266 and 457).
25O PHILOSOPHY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS.
Unquestionably, besides its value for the individual
as such, consciousness has also in addition a universal
significance for the redemption of the world, i.e., for
the conversion of the World-will and its return to
the original condition before the commencement of the
world-process (comp. below, C. Chap. xiv.); for this final
purpose the All-One does in fact need consciousness, and
accordingly it possesses the same, namely, in the sum of
individual consciousnesses, whose common subject it is."
We have, namely, seen tha; the one Unconscious is, in
fact, the Support or subject of all individual conscious-
messes, and that the individuals as such are only pheno-
menal combinations of an organism with the actions of the
Unconscious directed to the same. He who accordingly
has, Strictly speaking, the consciousness of Peter and Paul, is
not Peter and Paul, by which those phenomenal combina-
tions are denoted, but the All-One Unconscious itself.
Undoubtedly the consciousness which the Unconscious has
in individuals is a more or less limited one, but any other
is simply impossible. This consciousness always suffices
to lead to the self-consciousness of the Absolute, namely,
to the knowledge that the proper self of Peter and Paul
is the All-One Existence.”
* With Spinoza, likewise, the in-
finite intellect of God (comp. Ethics,
Part I. Proposition 31, Dem.), to be
distinguished indeed from the attri-
bute of the absolute thought, is only
the sum of the infinitely numerous
finite intellects, of which it is com-
pounded as of its integral parts
(Part V. Proposition 4o, Obs.) Each
of these infinitely numerous intel-
lects is the Idea of a body or ex-
tended thing (2 Proposition II and
I3), and by that not merely human
intellects are to be understood, but
the Ideas of all natural objects in
general, which indeed are all more
or less animated (2 Obs. I3), whose
sum thus exhausts the ideal content
of the universe.
* In Hegel also the Absolute Idea
That this self-consciousness
possesses no other self-consciousness
than this. Much as Hegel insists
that the Absolute is not merely sub-
stance, but also subject (of conscious-
ness), yet it always becomes con-
scious, even according to his own
doctrine, only in the limited indi-
viduals. From the erroneous pre-
supposition that consciousness is a
necessary and eternal moment in the
Absolute, there logically follows for
Hegel nothing more than the eter-
nity of the process of Nature, thus
the infinite duration of a world filled
with things so highly organised that
the self-consciousness of the Absolute
never dies out; but there by no means
follows from that false premiss the
persistence of a transcendent con-
sciousness in the Absolute in itself.
METAPHYSIC OF THE UNCONSCIOUS. 25 I
of the Absolute in the individuals is a reflex one, again
lies in the nature of self-consciousness, which is impos-
sible except on the basis of reflection. Thus it would be
shown to those, whose minds are disquieted by the denial
of consciousness and self-consciousness to the All-One,
that it really does possess such consciousness and self-
consciousness as is compatible with the character of these
conceptions, namely, limited consciousness and reflex self-
consciousness, which certainly must not be sought in the
limitless and unreflective All-One as such, but in it as
subject of the individual consciousnesses, since only the
functions of the All-One directed to a particular organism
form a limited part of its total activity, and attain to reflec-
tion in the organ of consciousness of the organism.—
If we for a moment assume what is unthinkable, that
the Absolute still possesses over and above the conscious-
ness and self-consciousness which it has in individuals
another peculiar to itself, we immediately see insoluble
difficulties to arise in respect of the relation of this absolute
self-consciousness to those of individuals. We formerly
assumed, namely, relying on the presumed unconsciousness
of the All-One, agreeably to experience, that consciousnesses
which arise at separate places, i.e., not sufficiently con-
nected by nervous communications, are separate conscious-
nesses. This could, however, scarcely be maintained on
the supposition of an absolute Self-consciousness. Does
such an absolute consciousness once exist in the Subject
of two individual consciousnesses, the required nervous
communication appears to play a right pitiable and Super-
fluous part beside such a metaphysical bond of union,
whilst on the contrary its significance is at once evident
if there is only an unconscious identical subject of the
individual consciousnesses. If the functions of the All-One
which the latter determines to the particular organisms
are unconscious functions, they are sufficiently separated
by their different goals not to allow of any confluence of
the consciousness arising in organisms by Way of reflec-
252 PHILOSOPHY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS.
tion. If, on the other hand, they are conscious functions
of a self-conscious being, they are related and connected
by this consciousness to the higher unity of that self-con-
Sciousness, so that it is no longer at all comprehensible
how these functions, after their reflection or turning round .
in the organs of consciousness, should be able to part into
two consciousnesses, instead of enriching the One absolute
consciousness with modified content. It accordingly be-
comes not only incomprehensible how the consciousnesses
of Peter and Paul are separate consciousnesses, but how
altogether a limited individual consciousness can arise
without its matter and its form being immediately swal-
lowed up and digested, bones and all, by the absolute con-
sciousness, i.e., annulled as individual consciousness. But
still, supposing a limited disparate individual consciousness
to have arisen, the functions of the All-One exercised
through the same, in case they were conscious, would
allow the absolute consciousness to shine, as it were, in
upon the individual consciousness; for one would not be
able to see how these functions should denude themselves
of the form of the absolute consciousness once adher-
ing to them, and indeed essentially connected with them
according to the assumption of the Theists, on their
entrance into the individual, and on the formation of his
special consciousness. The individual must in all direc-
tions be refulgent with the light of the absolute conscious-
ness, and the absolute consciousness lie open to its view.
All these consequences, contradicted by experience, fall
away when we reject the impossible Supposition of the
absolute consciousness in the All-One.
Monism can by no means endure any absolute conscious
world-substance, and only the declension from Monism to
the Pluralism of one creating and many created substances
makes possible the anthropopathic assumption of a conscious
God; truly also only at the cost of comprehension of the
possibility of inner relations between the creature and its
transcendent Creator, which can then at the best only
METAPHYSIC OF THE UNCONSCIOUS. ass
be conceived as the magical hocus-pocus of the possession
of one personal mind by another.
A God whose reality only consists in his spirituality,
and whose spirituality is manifested exclusively in the
form of consciousness, undeniably becomes with distinct
consciousness also a God parted realiter from the world,
an external transcendent Creator. On the other hand, he
who seeks and desires an immament God, a God who
descends into our breast and dwells therein, a God in
whom we live and have our being, as every profounder
religion must demand, and as Christianity and Judaism
(Deut. vi. 4, xxx. II; Isa. lxvi. I) also actually demand,
must make clear to himself that the All-One can only
indwell in individuals if it is related to them as the essence
to its phenomena, as the subject to its functions, without
being parted therefrom by a consciousness of its own, or,
in other words, that one and the same activity can only
then be simultaneously and without collision of two con-
sciousnesses activity of the individual and of the All-One,
if the All-One diffuses itself as impersonal Will and un-
conscious Intelligence through the universe with its personal
and conscious individuals. As God, by granting a per-
sonal consciousness, becomes parted from the world, with
every action there inevitably arises the clear alternative,
either activity of God or activity of the individual; a
third, a combination of both activities without collision
of the different conscious wills, would be only possible
exceptionally and fortuitously, but not as a frequent
occurrence or at all as general rule (comp, above, B. Chap.
X, pp. 24–27).- sº
We have admitted that it is the Unconscious itself
which attains consciousness in the organised individuals.
It follows from this that the sufficient reason of its be-
coming conscious must be given in the Unconscious, or,
more briefly, the Unconscious must be regarded as cause
of consciousness. It would, however, be very vicious
reasoning to try to draw the inference that Consciousness
254 PHILOSOPHY OF THE UNCONSCIO US.
must already inhere in the said Unconscious, else other-
wise it could not come out of it. This conclusion would
be just as incorrect as the conclusion often, in fact, drawn
by savages and the uncultured, that the fire must always
lurk as fire in the steel and flint, since otherwise it could
not leap forth as sparks on their impact. This much
only is correct, that there must be contained in the cause
the sum of all the indispensable and sufficient conditions
in order that the effect may emerge or result from them;
but the requirement that the effect be already contained
as such in the cause, i.e., already in the form in which
it appears as effect, is by no means coincident with this,
for then the occurrence of the effect would be no change
at all, thus also no causality, but only the becoming visible
of a something long existent. We saw above that the
arising of individual consciousnesses from an absolute con-
sciousness can never be rendered intelligible; from an
Unconscious, on the contrary, it is quite comprehensible,
if only the Unconscious contains in itself all the condi-
tions, which are requisite and sufficient in order to allow
of consciousness resulting as form of otherwise given and
determined Presentation or Sensation. As these condi-
tions, however, we have in C. Chap. iii. recognised the
duality of the attributes and the possibility of an opposi-
tion of the functions compounded of them, and these con-
ditions we must accordingly necessarily presuppose in
the Unconscious. Whoever regards the stated conditions
as incorrectly defined will be obliged to suppose others in
their stead in the Unconscious, although he may leave
them also quite indefinite if he only guards himself from
the error of setting up consciousness itself as the indis-
pensable condition of the origin of consciousness, an
assertion which must be characterised as entirely devoid
of foundation,-whereas the most cogent reasons for the
contrary have been already partly discussed above, partly
will soon come before us for discussion.
The above-mentioned objection would only acquire a cer-
METAPHYSIC OF THE UNCONSCIOUS. 255
tain tinge of justification if it appealed to this, that accord-
ing to the teleological conception of the Philosophy of the
Unconscious (comp. below, C. Chap. xiv. 3), consciousness
does not proceed from the Unconscious as an accidental
or causally-necessary, thus, at all events, blind result, but
that it is teleologically posited by the Unconscious, i.e.,
intended for the sake of a higher end, in which certainly
the ideal anticipation is contained. It might then be
Supposed that this ideal anticipation of consciousness or
the teleological forethinking of consciousness must itself
represent a consciousness, and, moreover, a higher stage of
consciousness. Apart, however, from the implicit form in
which in the Unconscious the thinking of the end includes
the thinking of the means, and conversely, the following
is yet to be considered.
The thinking of consciousness only necessarily presup–
poses a higher consciousness, if consciousness is thought
as consciousness, i.e., in the subjective mode, as the subject
of consciousness feels itself affected by its consciousness.
But thus it is quite certain the Unconscious does not think
its consciousness, since its thinking is altogether absolutely
opposed to our Subjective thinking, so that it would have
to be designated objective thinking if this designation were
not just as one-sided and accordingly inappropriate. We
have already seen in C. Chap. i. that, with regard to the
mode of ideation of the Unconscious, we can only make
the assertion that it does not perceive as we perceive. If
we then would positively say what exactly the Uncon-
scious thinks when it employs consciousness as an inter-
mediate end of a further final end, since subjectivity is
excluded, nothing can remain, but firstly, the objective pro-
cess, whose subjective phenomenon is consciousness; and,
secondly, the effect of the emancipation of the Idea from
the Will which results from this process (comp. above, C.
Chap. iii. 1). Hereby the two fixed points are gained,
which alone are concerned in the teleological forethinking
of consciousness, namely, means and end, Whilst the Sub-
256 PHILOSOPHY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS.
jective inner side of consciousness is accidental in a teleo-
logical reference, and is therefore not affected by the ideal
anticipation of the event.
One might, however, put the objection in still more
general form and say, e.g., To posit ends means to pro-
vide for the future: how now can an Unconscious, i.e.,
unconscious of itself as a present reality, be conscious of
itself as future ? Now I might of course appeal to this,
that all this purposive activity is in respect to the merely
negative ultimate end (the universal negation of the will)
likewise only a negative one, thus only turns on this
pivot, to abolish the present state (of the arisen world-Will),
not to introduce a positive future one. However, the
purposive activity on the one hand would always per-
ceive the future state of privation as limitation of the
present state which was to be annulled, and on the other
hand the foregoing of the representation of the future state
as goal of the process would little accord with the omni-
scient clairvoyance of the Unconscious, which we have
everywhere found. This appeal, however, is not at all
needed, since an error lurks in the inference of the objec-
tion.—In the sphere of individuation, namely, for the
most part, only individual ends are pursued, individual
states aimed at, to the eacclusion of the participation of
other individuals in the states aimed at ; accordingly this
exclusiveness of what is purposed naturally renders in-
dispensable the sharp and clear discrimination of the
substratum of the purposed State from other individuals.
Otherwise is it in the sphere of the All-One Unconscious,
where every distinction of different substrata of the
purposed state, and likewise every exclusion of one in
favour of another, ceases, because the phenomenal mani-
fold does not reach into the sphere of the metaphysical
existence (as we have seen in the preceding chapter).
Here, one may say, state is absolutely state, i.e., all-embracing
state, beyond which at any time there is no state. If,
then, in the sphere of the All-One Unconscious a future
METAPHYSIC OF THE UNCONSCIOUS. 257
state is purposed, it is purposed as absolute, i.e., all-
embracing state, which has nothing beyond itself, and
regarding which therefore the question as to the support
of the state, as a perfectly meaningless one so far as the
purposive process is concerned, cannot at all be proposed
in a rational fashion. It follows from this, that it is
absurd to transfer the reflection of consciousness on the
substratum of the purposed state to which we are accus-
tomed from the inertia of habit also to the purposive
activity of the Unconscious. For we already see in indi-
vidual instincts that the individual takes care for its own
future, without therefore knowing that it is its own future
well-being for which it cares, and we see even in the race
instincts that the individual exerts itself for general ends,
thus for alien subjects, without any idea for whom it
torments and sacrifices itself.
Only thus much then remains tenable in the above
objection, that the Unconscious must know the condi-
tion to be negated, and which it can only know in that it
finds, feels it in itself, since the condition is indeed not
spontaneously posited by the unconscious Imagination
itself, as all later intuitions; i.e., there in fact results here,
from the need of explanation of the purposive activity of
the Unconscious, a posterior the necessity of the assump-
tion of a transcendent extramundane consciousness, which
feels its own content as a state to be negated, i.e., as wn-
blessedness or torment, — an assumption the necessity of
which we shall subsequently, in C. Chap. xv. 2, a priori
perceive to be founded in the nature of the will and the
laws of the origination of consciousness. Observe, this
Single transcendent consciousness of the All-One which we
have hitherto found occasion to assume has not for content
an idea or representation, but it has for sole content the
absolutely indefinite transcendent pain or unblessedness of the
void infinite will, which vague metaphysical discomfort
forms, as the state to be negated, the necessary starting-
point of the unconscious teleological activity, as that
"WOL. II. R
258 PHILOSOPHY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS.
which ought not to be the firm foundation of the world-
process. The consciousness here allowed, which has arisen
only through the mischievous elevation of the quiescent
will into volition, and must again cease with the return
of the will to its original state of self-enclosed peace (all
this will be proved and elucidated in Chap. xv. C.), can
obviously give Theism no occasion to triumph at the
necessity of a consciousness in the Unconscious. The
attempt, however, to deduce from the final purpose of
the world-process a consciousness with richer content
than that here specified turns out, at all events, a vain
endeavour.
If we gather together once more our reflections on the
question as to the consciousness of the All-One, there
emerges the result that, besides the motionless conscious-
ness of indefinite discomfort at the uplifted and unsatis-
fied world-will, the All-One only possesses a limited con-
sciousness in conscious individuals, which, however, Suffices
it for the aims of the world-process, and that the peculiar
mode or form of its all-knowing and all-wise intuition
(absolute idea) is such of which, for lack of positive
statements, we can only say this much, that it is elevated
above that form which we know as consciousness, i.e.,
that negatively defined it is unconscious, vaguely but
positively defined superconscious. According to this we
must declare the endeavour still to ascribe to the All-
One an exclusively divine consciousness, conceived accord-
ing to the analogy of the human, a not smaller anthro-
popathic error and degrading limitation of God than
that of the biblical writings, when they ascribe to him
anger, vengeance, and similar qualities measured by our
own experiences. (Even pious Church Fathers like Au-
gustine have been disquieted by such reflections on the
consciousness of God.) If this holds good of consciousness
in general, so much the more must we maintain it of the
endeavour to posit in God as special content of such a
consciousness the idea of the All-One itself, i.e., to credit
METAPHYSIC OF THE UNCONSCIOUS. 259
him with a self-consciousness. However, we shall have to
examine this point a little more closely.—
The transcendent consciousness allowed by me has for
its sole and only content absolutely indefinite pain, but
no idea, least of all the idea of the All-One itself. The
consciousness which the All-One has in its individuals
has, it is true, for thousands of years been elevated by
philosophic thinkers to the consciousness of the All-One
itself, therefore to the self-consciousness of the All-One,
but this is only an intra-mundane, not extra-mundane
self-consciousness of the All-One, such as Theism re-
quires. But we can at least negatively affirm this with
confidence of the unconscious representation of the All-
One or the Absolute Idea, that it has in the self-satisfaction
of its own pure intuition just as little occasion for re-
flection in general as for a definite reflection on itself or on
Something else; not on anything else, since there exists
nothing else besides itself; not on itself, since reflection on
itself presupposes reflection on something else. But in the
unity of the Absolute Idea the ground of the separation
of subject and object is just that which is wanting, there-
fore also their appearance to one another, which consti-
tutes consciousness, is also wanting, and in particular there
is wanting the bending round of the ideational activity
towards its origin, the turning back to the active subject as
goal of representation, which retroversion of the activity of
thought is precisely what is characteristic of the notion of
self-consciousness as we have abstracted it from human self-
consciousness. The Absolute Idea embraces all that
is, for its ideal determinations become indeed as content
of will those phenomena whose sum we call the world.
The unconscious thought of substance accordingly
exhausts the sum of all its modes, and so far as its whole
proper nature is unfolded therein, itself as the sum of its
unfolded moments (in its otherness),--but itself only in
this sense, not in the proper acceptation of the notion of
26o PHILOSOPHY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS.
self-consciousness, as active centre of emanation." To .*
grasp the latter retroversion or reflection is required,
which takes place in the brains of individuals, whereby
the intuitive character of the presentation is lost, but
instead thereof the self-consciousness of the All-One in
the strict sense is really gained—only of course not as extra-
mundane, transcendent—and at the same time as one which,
beside the notion of the All-One as active world-centre,
embraces only a very small part of its phenomena, not, as
the unconscious idea, its whole plenitude. As the light-
sphere, consisting of light rays, illuminates the whole
space, but not the point from which it issues, unless a
reflection of its own beams takes place at reflecting sur-
faces, and thereby a turning back of the direction of these
rays, so the intuitive ideal total activity of the All-One
may cognise the All, only not the point whence it issues,
the active centre of the All, unless certain bundles of
these rays are broken in the brain of an organism into
consciousness, which then, however, must of necessity be a
one-sided, limited, no all-embracing absolute consciousness.
The previous considerations, in combination with the
argument stated below derived from the evil of the world,
seem sufficient to render evident the perfect untenability
of a specifically divine consciousness and self-conscious-
ness in the All-One. In this way of thinking we find
ourselves in perfect accord with the views of modern
German philosophy. Here, too, neither in Fichte's earlier
doctrine, where the Absolute is represented by the unreal
unsubstantial abstract moral world-Order (Fichte's Werke,
* Only in this sense does Spinoza pure forms of these ideas without
speak of a self-knowledge of God.
The idea, which in God is actual, is
ever unique, all-embracing (Ethics,
Part ii. Prop. 4), which includes
in itself all individual intellects as
the ideas of the modes of exten-
sion (comp. above p. 25O Obs.) and
the ideas of all these intellects,
or the ideas of these ideas (Ethics,
ii. Props. 20 and 21), i.e., the
regard to their extended objects
(2 Prop. 21 Obs.), and, moreover,
includes as posited with logical ne-
cessity. God as subject or natura
naturams therefore does not know
himself as subject of the cognitive ac-
tivity or of the attribute of thought,
but as object of the same, i.e., as
natura naturata (comp. I Prop. 29
Obs.)
METAPHYSIC OF THE UNCONSCIOUS. 26I
v. 186, 187, 264, 368), nor in his later doctrine, where it
stands as the eternally unchangeable veiled Being behind
our consciousness which reveals it (Werke, v. 441, 442),
nor in Schelling (comp. his Werke, i. 1, p. 180; i. 3, p.
497; i. 4, p. 256; i. 7, p. 53, 54, and 67, 68), nor in
Hegel (which, to be sure, is denied by the reactionary
part of the Hegelian school), nor in Schopenhauer does
the Absolute possess a consciousness outside of the
individuals pervaded by it (comp. also vol. i. pp. 23–
31 ; Introductory i, c., the remarks on the philosophers
named)—
After these conclusions concerning the consciousness
and self-consciousness of God, we shall hardly expect a
more favourable result in regard to the notion of per-
Somality, to which Theism is wont to attach so much
importance as predicate of its God, that it is precisely
in order to save it that it still insists so urgently on
the untenable predicates of consciousness and Self-con-
sciousness, even after former scruples (comp. above, p.
245 ft.) against setting aside these anthropopathic predi-
cates of God have been removed by the recognition of the
unconscious-superconscious reflectionless-intuitive intelli-
gence in the All-One. Nothing would stand in the way
of the application of the notion personality, if its definition
were linited to an individuality combined with will
and intelligence," and it was certain that no inadequate
anthropopathic accessory notions were interpolated. But
unfortunately the guarantee of this is so small, that, on the
contrary, the predicate of personality has almost always
been employed only with the intention of thereby smug-
gling in unsuitable ideas, which, however, are perhaps
consoling to the heart. In a fural sense, the notion of
personality rests on the criteria of civil independence;
this conception has, of course, no sense in reference to
1 Only in this sense is Schelling God (comp. his definition of person-
willing in his later “Philosophy of ality : Werke, ii. 7, p. 281, and my
Revelation ” to understand Theism memoir, “Schelling's Positive Phil-
as doctrine of the One tri-personal osophie,” pp. 42, 43, Obs.)
262 PHILOSOPHY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS.
God. Ethically the notion of personality implies the
capacity of judging one's own actions and the moral
responsibility conditioned by the same, but this transfer-
ence of a relation, which is highly important between
separate and opposed individuals, to the absolute all-em-
bracing Individual appears inadmissible, because there are
no individuals beside itself, but only in itself, and because
even these latter are only manifestations of itself, pheno-
'mena, not substances, therefore cannot be co-ordinated with
the substance, through which alone they are, as the notion
of the ethical relation would require."
* Those readers who have been
accustomed to think the conception
of freedom inseparably united with
the ethical conception of personality
are reminded : (I.) That freedom
Inay be temporarily abolished along
with accountability, without per-
sonality being thereby abolished.
(2.) That this concept of freedom
only contains a relation to the
concept of personality when it
is opposed to the freedom of indi-
vidual assertion on the part of
other individuals, but that then,
for the before-mentioned reason, it
is not transferable to the All-One,
since the latter has nothing what-
ever to oppose itself to. (3.) That the
notion of the freedom of human will
rests altogether on an illusion (comp.
the commencement of Chap. xi., sect.
B.), and accountability does not rest
on a quality of the will, but of the
intellect, and, moreover of the dis-
cursive intellect, cannot therefore be
applied to the All-One. If there
were a human freedom, it could not
be analogically transferred to the
All-One ; if it were transferable it
would still import no trace of a
notion of personality into the All-
One ; but if it were purified from
amalgamation with this alien con-
cept, there would finally be nothing
ascribed to the All- One by this
transference which does not already
appertain to our Unconscious as
such. The contrast of a foreign
compulsion, which is necessary to
give the notion of freedom its special
content, is wanting here, but the Un-
conscious is undoubtedly absolutely
free inasmuch as it derives all
its decisions from itself, and sean be
affected by nothing external. It
further actually possesses, according
to our investigations, the ability
only erroneously ascribed to man,
to intervene at any moment spon-
taneously as cause in the lawfully
given phenomenal series, which adds
a new factor determining the pro-
cess to the existing ones, and con-
tinually exercises this faculty in its
teleological interpositions. Lastly,
it shows itself, as weshall see in Chap.
xv. C., before the decision, by which
it certainly ties its own hands until
the reintroduction of the status quo
ante, as free to comport itself ration-
ally or irrationally, i.e., to remain in
the place of non-volition or to ele-
vate itself to Volition, i.e., to the
world-creation ; man, on the con-
trary, even then acts according to
the absolutely rational plan of the
world, i.e., rationally, where he
imagines he is acting counter to the
same, i.e., irrationally. The All-
One Unconscious accordingly pos-
sesses all possible freedom, and can
by no means acquire any not yet
possessed freedom in addition to
the same through the erroneous
assumption of a human freedom.
METAPHYSIC OF THE UNCONSCIOUS. 263
Ideologically the concept of personality consists in the
existence of a consciousness with respect to the identity
of the conscious subjects underlying all the temporally
distinct acts of self-consciousness in the same conscious-
ness (comp. p. 79), is thus the result of a tolerably com-
plex reflection on a number of reflective acts of self-appre-
hension comprehended by memory. Since God in his
absolute intuition is raised far above all reflection (even
above that of simple self-consciousness, to say nothing of
the reflection of the identity of the subjects of those acts
of reflection), and as, moreover, such a reflection, in the
absence of any existence from which he could distinguish
himself, would be for him perfectly superfluous and tauto-
logical, the ideological concept of personality also can have
no application to God, any more than the jural or ethical.
The attempt, from religious considerations, to save the
ideological personality of God at any price, necessarily
leads by its consequences to the fantastic assumption of
an eternal nature in God elevated above material temporal
Nature and different from it (Jacob Böhme and Franz von
JBaader), in order to render possible an eternal process in
God with self-discrimination and reintegration as his
actual temporal nature makes possibly the temporal world-
process, with the resulting separation of subject and object
in the finite consciousnesses, which are indeed collectively
consciousnesses of the All-One Existence. One sees from
this how weak an hypothesis must be when its most
important advocates confess themselves compelled, in order
to maintain it, to have recourse to such artificial, fantastic,
and wholly imaginary auxiliary hypotheses.
According to these considerations, it seems most suit-
able not to give to the notion of personality so wide a
sense as is given in the above definition, in order thereby
to make it applicable to God. There are many indivi-
duals endowed with will and intelligence, which do not on
that account admit of the concept of personality (animals,
low savages, idiots, &c.), and to which we therefore
264. PHILOSOPHY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS.
refuse this designation. Why should we not exercise the
same restraint with regard to an individual which no
longer answers to that conception, because it is elevated
above all the limitations which form the marks of the
conception on its different sides 2 Here, too, the degrada-
tion of the Supreme Being does not lie on the side of.
those who refuse the predicate of personality, but on the
part of those who ascribe it. Nay, looked at more closely,
the lowering of God turns out to be the Secret purpose of
the affair, i.e., one seeks in God a person (according to the
human standard), in order by this kind of co-ordination of
God with the ego seeking consolation from him to bring
it about, that one may place oneself on intimate foot-
ing, as it were, with God, as with a revered equal, in
Order, on pouring out the heart before him, to make more
sure of a humanly sympathising understanding of one's
own emotion. Even the Christian apostles, with the
growing purification of the God-idea, began to have an
inkling of the unsuitableness of this childish behaviour,
at which the naïve anthropopathic imagination of the
older Judaism had taken no offence; and the more sub-
limely the God-concept shaped itself with the progressive
development of Christian Theism through the contact
with Hellenic philosophy, the more the religious soul in
its intellectual confusion saw itself impelled to take refuge
in a mediating human personality (Christ, subsequently
the Virgin Mary and the Saints). As the Reformation
found itself compelled, after the abolition of prayer to the
Saints, to lay more stress upon the human personality of
Christ than in Catholicism, so in consequence of the
now disappearing Christ-belief, Theism is trying again
to bring God himself nearer to man from his abstract
remoteness by imparting more human features, and this
is the most important reason for the emphasising of the
personality of God, although incompatible with the idea of
the same. But when one considers that, from the philo-
sophical point of view, the practical nerve of prayer is
METAPHYSIC OF THE UNCONSCIOUS. 265
already paralysed by a purely subjective signification and
activity being ascribed to it according to the modern
view of the world, the value of the emotional postulate,
contradicted by thought, appears also from this side more
than doubtful. For when I have once perceived the
illusory nature of belief in an objective meaning and
efficacy of prayer, the nature of the object to which the
prayer is conceived or addressed has become perfectly
indifferent, since in truth we are here only dealing with
a monologue, to which the possible jugglery of a conscious
Self-deception in respect of a feigned auditor can give
no value. With this now-a-days unavoidable admission
that the meaning of prayer is reduced to the value of a
Soliloquising soul-expectoration on self-rectitude (Schleier-
macher,) disappears, even within the pale of Theism,
every practical motive of religion, for hankering after the
clothing of God with the predicate of personality in
the proper sense of the term at the expense of good
logic.
But with the renunciation of the predicate of personality
disappears again, as remarked above, the practical religious
interest in maintaining the personal divine Self-conscious-
mess, and with this the last interest in the assertion of an
exclusive transcendent consciousness of the All-One. The
practical religious interest being set aside which could
not bring itself to abandon all these conceptions in spite
of their long-proved untenability, the notional difficulties
and philosophic proofs fully assert themselves, and compel
that Theism, which endeavours to purify itself from the
crude naturalness of an anthropopathic representation of
God and to attain tenable metaphysical conceptions, to take
the last necessary step in this process of purification and
profounder thinking, from which it has hitherto recoiled
from a mistaken religious motive. The result, however,
which emerges in this last and now inevitable step of
the self-purification of Theism, is the same as that which
the Philosophy of the Unconscious on its own part
266 PHILOSOPHY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS.
from quite another side brings to Theism, and the old
supports of the latter have gradually become one after the
other so rotten and crumbling that it should rejoice when
another new one is offered it.
That all the attributes of the divine intelligence (all-
knowledge, all-wisdom, all-presentness) are also appli-
cable to the clairvoyant unconscious intuition of our All-
One, will be more precisely shown at the beginning of
Chap. xii. C., and we have already admitted the Omni-
potence of the Unconscious Absolute Will. When we
add, that we have in the last chapter recognised the Un-
conscious as the Individual in a pre-eminent Sense (p. 223
ff, and 240–243), and that the former claims of Theism
to personality, self-consciousness, and consciousness of
God in their previous sense have become untenable, but
that all that is tenable in the same is actually satisfied by
our Unconscious, it is clear that on this side a difference
in principle between a Theism that rightly understands
itself and the Philosophy of the Unconscious cannot be
found.— -
This might appear still more plain in another direction,
namely, in reference to the relation of the individual to
the All-One ; but here too we shall see that a well-under-
stood Theism must necessarily move away some steps
from the vulgar conception, and then likewise coincides
with our point of view. Theism namely is originally
dualism, in that it ascribes just as much substantiality to
the world as to God. It is true this dualism is one only
existing since the creation of the world (conceived as in
time), thus no regressively eternal one, but it is intended
to be a forwards eternal One, in that the substance of the
higher creature is also conceived as eternal. The dualism
is therefore indeed only the result of the act of creation,
but it is now in operation, and moreover determined not
to disappear again. Such a dualism is, however, philo-
sophically untenable, and irresistibly tends to relapse
into Monism. We have in the last chapter (pp. 230–234)
METAPHYSIC OF THE UNCONSCIOUS. 267
seen that a seriously held dualism abolishes and reduces
to Occasionalism or Pre-established Harmony—two equally
untenable refuges from difficulty—the empirically given
and a priori demanded causality of individuals among one
another, and that causality as influa, us physicus necessarily
demands the taking up of individuals as phenomena into
the one absolute substance. We can here reach the same
result by a consideration of the notion of creation, which
forms a distinguishing fundamental conception of Theism.—
A consistent dualism must assume that the world fashioned
as substance by the creative act would continue to subsist,
even if the creator were suddenly annihilated ; only on
this condition would the world be a permanent residuum
of a completed act of creation, only on this condition true
and genuine substance. This consequence is, however, too
strong even for Theism itself, and it therefore foregoes the
regarding the world as a mere completed result of a single
creative act; it lets its God permanently act the part of
world-restorer or world-governor, as the world-architect
of Greek dualism in presence of the chaos of the eternal
uncreated matter. For this matter, however, and strictly
taken also for the individual immortal spirits called into
actuality, Theism tries to retain the notion of a created
Substance, a caput mortuum of a former long past creative
act, which residuum, it is true, God has the power again to
annihilate, if it seems good to him, but which without such
a divine interposition would of itself be imperishable.
However, Theism must soon perceive that it is here in
presence of the same difficulty, of the same belittling of
God, in that this residuum would then also continue to exist
if God were annihilated, and that therewith an indepen-
dence limiting God’s absoluteness would have to be ac-
corded it. This scruple could only be laid to rest if, on
God's annihilation, continued subsistence were denied to the
creature; the creature must collapse into nothingness, if
the creator withdraws his hand from it even only for a
moment; but this is only possible if continued existence
268 PHILOSOPHY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS.
is conditioned by a continuously active function of God,
by an act of will renewed every moment.
Such a conserving activity of God, which prevents the
constantly threatened falling back of the creature into no-
thingness, is now, however, in no way different from the
first creative act, which summoned the creature out of
nothing; for both substitute for the non-existence of the
creature its existence; i.e., however, the conservation of
the creation by God is to be more precisely defined as con-
tinuous creation. Herewith is the untenable notion of the
caput mortuum of a past act of creation stripped off, no
matter whether this past is reckoned at thousands of years
or seconds, and the existence of the creation is in every
moment understood as creative act of the same moment.
Creation out of nothing, which was emphasised by the
Jewish-Christian Theism in contrast to Greek dualism, in
order to render prominent the absence of an eternal matter
existing before God, is then to be understood in this way,
that that wherefrom God creates is his own creative energy,
that the whole real existence of the creature consists
purely in the divine creative power directed to the same,
and its whole essence at every moment purely consists in
the content which the divine creative act of this moment
pours into it.
About thus far has Theism progressed in the philoso-
phical purification of its conceptions; it is, however, easy
to see that herewith the notion of Substance has ceased to
be applicable to the creature, since it no longer has subsist-
ence at all, save through the absolute divine substance.
Thus only the latter manifesting itself in a continuous crea-
tive act of willis the subsistent or self-existent, but the crea-
ture itself and its existence is only the manifestation or the
wevelation of thefunctions of the Absolute directed to its con-
stant creation or preservation, Or, in brief, an appearancel of
* By this expression we must, of ance” of the theory of knowledge,
course, not in the remotest manner which is the correlate to the concep-
think of the “subjective appear- tion of the “thing of itself” of the
METAPHYSIC OF THE UNCONSCIOUS. 269
the All-One Being. The real existence and the essence of
the creature is hereby not at all impugned, since we have
indeed already seen that what we call its reality only con-
sists of the sum of the acts of will which are functional in
it (comp. above, pp. 242, 243). The notion of creation is,
however, through the setting aside of the conception of
the created substance, resolved into that of the continuous
manifestation of the absolute will and the absolute idea,
i.e., into that of the Appearance of the absolute Being.
The individual who has penetrated to this conception
thereby attains for his religious feeling the desired con-
viction that he at every moment owes to God, and to him
alone, his whole being and all he is; that he is nothing at
all but in him and through him, and that the being in
him is God’s being itself. Thus also dualism has dis-
appeared from Theism, and by dealing in earnestness
with pure Monism has, at the same time, gained for the
ardently devotional religious feeling the consciousness of
an intimacy of relation between God and man, which is
not even remotely to be reached as long as man by the
perverse self-contradictory notion of a created substance is
opposed as a foreign, independent, self-contained personal
substance to God, who may now solve the puzzle how to
enter into the man separated substantially from him. The
purely monistic view of the world is also alone capable
of laying the metaphysical foundation of an ethic exempt
from the interference of all sovereign individual caprice
(comp. Schopenhauer), which could only attain general
validity on the ground of a pluralistic individualistic
ethics, if the conception of the divine revelation of a
universally obligatory moral canon were tenable. That
profounder intimacy of the relation of the individual to
the Absolute and this better foundation of ethics, which
Monism affords as compared with dualistic Theism, and for
same theory, whilst we have here to nomenon, which is the correlate to
do with the notion of the divinely or the metaphysical conception of the
objectively posited, or objective phe- “essence” (comp, above, p. 241).
27o PHILOSOPHY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS,
the sake of which the mystical theosophists and theologians
of the West have always shown a strong and decided
inclination to Pantheism, the purely Aryan religions of
India possessed long before the origin of Christianity;
whilst, on the contrary, Christianity from its Semitic
origin retained the dualism between creator and crea-
tion, at any rate in the Orthodox doctrines of the chief
confessions. Whilst, however, the pantheistic religions of
India, entangled in the error of the eternity of the pheno-
menon and not acknowledging the real existence of time,
were unable to elevate themselves to an historical world-
theory, and therefore allowed their believers to be lost
in dreams and perish in unhistorical Quietism, the
Jewish-Christian Theism, on the contrary, has in com-
pensation for its other defects developed an historical
world-view, in which the all-wise providence on the basis
of natural process guides the historical process according
to a teleologically predetermined plan to a rational goal;
from this belief in a rational historical evolution which
has found ever clearer expression have the European
nations derived the strength of their devotion to the
historical process.
At the present time, when the more special forms of the
Christian religion are manifestly outlived, and the faith in
the providentially guided historical evolution has besides
passed into the flesh and blood of modern civilisation, the
essential question is how to liberate from the deciduous shell
and to unite with the realsubstance of the pantheistic Indian
religions this remaining kernel of Theism, in order through
these ideas, which have grown purely out of the spirit of
our Aryan stock, to gain a religious profundity and en-
hancement of the intensity of religious and ethical feeling,
which would be a vivifying renewal of our irreligious age
clinging convulsively to the mere externals of religion.
That the old Creed is no longer tenable, and is still
only artificially and violently preserved as a mummy, is
generally felt and admitted. But that by mere critical
METAPHYSIC OF THE UNCONSCIOUS. 271
negation nothing is directly gained, unless at the same
time fresh elements of religious feeling are introduced,
would be just as generally recognised if one did not
frequently despair of discovering these new positive
elements. If these are anywhere to be found, they lie
in that genuine and imperishable core of pure Aryan
Pantheism, which must be fused with the circuitously
attained historical world-view of Judaism and Christianity,
in order by this concrescence to reach a position that
unites the advantages of both sides without their defects,
and therefore stands higher than either of them singly,
In this sense we may say: we stand directly before the
time when the Jewish-Christian cosmic theory has only
the choice of dying entirely out or of becoming pamtheistic.
The metaphysical foundation of this transformation, how-
ever, which was prepared by the pantheistic and mystical
philosophies of the Middle Ages and the Reformation
(Scotus Erigena, Martin Eckhart, Giordano Bruno, Jacob
Böhme, Spinoza), has been philosophically laid and built
on by the most recent German philosophers, whose par-
tially authorised and valuable endeavours and tendencies
have coalesced into a provisional unity in the principle
of the Unconscious. Precisely in our own time, when
the opposition between the unmediated extremes of a
rigid theistic dogmatism and an irreligious atheistic natural-
tsm is threatening to become more irreconcilable, the
golden mean of a spiritualistic Monism or Pantheism,
which supplies both parties with a bridge for mutual
understanding and union on neutral soil, appears to be
of the highest importance for the peaceful spiritual de-
velopment of modern Society.—
Having endeavoured to prove the evanescence of the
main differences between the Unconscious and the God
of Theism with the philosophical purification of Theism, a
cardinal point must in conclusion not be left unmentioned.
Theism, namely, asserts that the easistence of the world is
an intended consequence of God’s goodness and omni-
272 PHILOSOPHY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS.
science, and sees itself therefore driven in presence of evil
to the necessity of attempting a theodicy, the impossibility
of which had already been convincingly proved by Kant
in a special treatise. We do not deal here with the
optimism of those who, like Jewish Theism, find the
whole world and the life in it wonderfully glorious, and
hold evil to be evanescent as compared with the happiness
which exists beside it ; we also do not insist on the
necessity of a theodicy in regard to moral evil, which for
the rest indeed were indifferent, if it did not contribute
to the increase of suffering; we only ask an account of
that Theism which, like the Christian, grants the pre-
ponderating woe and misery in this world (comp. C. Chap.
xiii.), and yet regards the resolution to create the world
as an efflux of the divine all-knowledge and all-wisdom.
The consolation of immortality is no help here, for also in
the other world the number of the blessed will be very
small compared with that of the torment of the suffering
damned (Matt. vii. 13–14; xxii. 14). The only partially
accepted doctrine of the future restoration of every creature
at the end of all things is in itself too problematical to
deserve consideration, and leaves open the question why
the world must be miserable until then. As now it would
never do to make God the author of evil, Theism sees
itself compelled to seek the origin of evil outside God, i.e.,
since save God only his creature exists, in the creature.
A moral guilt of the first (?) human pair is said to have had
the deterioration of nature for its natural consequence, so
that God must now look on while milliards suffer for
the trespass of a couple of individuals dead thousands of
years ago, i.e., guiltlessly; since, however, notwithstanding
the connection between human fall and deterioration of
Nature, between moral guilt and natural world misery,
appeared all too bold, a superhuman creature must be
introduced, a devil, who ruined and brought into disorder
the fair creation of God. For a more childish time this
theodicy, by means of the two scapegoats, Lucifer and
METAPHYSIC OF THE UNCONSCIOUS. 273
Adam, might be well enough; we only smile now at
such fancies. We repudiate, however, at the same time,
in principle, every attempt to disburden God of the
responsibility for the world-misery by shifting the same
on to any of his creatures whatsoever, since, in the first
place, such an independence of the creature crossing the
intentions of God is, according to our foregoing discussion,
not conceivable; and since, secondly, an all-knowing and
all-wise God must, at the moment of creation, foresee and
take account of the voluntary decisions of his creatures
under all circumstances, and all the indirect consequences
of their action as terms of the question, whether it would
be wise to create a world with such a history.
It is to be noticed that it is quite immaterial, and does
not at all affect the serious nature of the responsibility,
whether the intelligence of God, which is active in this
resolve to create a world, is assumed to be conscious or
wnconscious. Were the divine intelligence at all concerned
in the decision whether a world should be created or not,
the actual result of this decision in the case of affirmation
would be an inexcusable cruelty towards the created sub-
stances on the assumption of dualistic Theism, but, on the
assumption of Monism, the frenzy of a divine asceticism,
a divine self-laceration. If an absolute intelligence (no
matter whether conscious or unconscious) really be one of
the attributes of God, as indeed we too assume, it is, in
view of the misery of the world, impossible that it can
have taken part in the decision in question, thus impossible
that it was active and efficient during the exaltation of
the will which decided on the “That ” of the world. Only
if the existence of the world was decided by the act of a
blind will illuminated by no ray of rational intelligence,
only then is this existence comprehensible; only then is
God as such not to be made responsible for the same.
Such a non-participation of intelligence in the world's origin,
however, cannot be explained by Theism in any of its forms;
it must maintain it to be simply impossible on the as-
WOL. II. S
274 PHILOSOPHY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS.
sumption of an eternal interior spiritual life of a self-con-
scious God. With our principles, however, it is perfectly
comprehensible, nay, even not otherwise to be expected
a priori, because, namely (according to C. Chap. i.), the
Idea of itself has no interest in being, and can only be
posited by the raising of the will out of non-being into
being, thus neither before nor during the elevation of the
will is existent, but only becomes so through the same.
Suppose then the elevation of the blind will into actual
volition (i.e., the moment of the initiative preceding every
actual intelligence in the All-One) sufficed, as we shall
hereafter see, to posit the “That” of the world, it would
thereby be explained how, despite the omniscience of God
(during the world-process), the unfortunate commencement
could have come to pass.
But now arises a second question: Why did not God in
the first moment when he became seeing, i.e., his all-wise
intelligence entered into being, repair the error blindly
committed, and turn his will against himself? Incom-
prehensible and unpardonable as the first commencement
would be without the hypothesis of a blind action, no less
incomprehensible and unpardonable would be the laisser-
aller of this misery with open eyes if the possibility of an
immediate recall remained open. Here we are again aided
by the inseparability of the idea from the will in the
Unconscious, the unfreedom and dependence of the idea
on the will, in consequence of which the former has
indeed to determine its “What,” its goal and its content,
but not its “That and whether.” We shall see that the
whole world-process only serves the one purpose of emanci-
pating the Idea from the will by means of consciousness,
in order by the opposition of the Idea to induce the peace
of the will. Were now this end attainable without con-
sciousness, or did such a consciousness in the sense of
an emancipation of the Idea from the will exist at
the beginning of the world-process in God, the whole
cosmic process would be foolish and aimless, in that it
METAPHYSIC OF THE UNCONSCIOUS. 275
would be struggling to attain somewhat that either is not
at all requisite for the object, or that eacisted long ago.
This consideration affords the last decisive reason against
the assumption of a transcendent consciousness in God in
the sense of an emancipation of the idea from the will,
if the contrary reasons assigned above were not more
than sufficient. This last argument, be it observed, is
thoroughly inductive, drawn from the empirical fact of
the misery of the world, and derives its force solely from
this, that no hypothesis involving a conscious God is able
to explain the fact without contradiction.
Although, since Spinoza's identification of God, Sub-
stance, and Nature, the God-idea has to a certain exten
obtained a citizen's rights in philosophy, I still hold the
origin of an idea to be so important for its comprehension,
that it seems to me advisable to avoid as far as possible
in philosophy an idea with an origin so exclusively
religious as God. I shall therefore continue as a rule to
employ the expression, “The Unconscious,” although the
previous discussion has shown that I should have more
right to the use of the word “God” than Spinoza and
many others. Although the formal negativity of my
terminology for an out-and-out positive Being must for
a length of time be inadequate, yet it will retain its
proper prophylactic value as long as the anthropopathic
error of the consciousness of the Absolute prevails to a con-
siderable extent. When, however, the negative predicate
of unconsciousness is universally recognised as a self-evident
predicate of the Absolute no longer needing distinct
enouncement, then undoubtedly this negative designation
will, in the historical progress of philosophy, have long
been replaced by one more appropriate and positive.
( 276 )
IX.
THE ESSENTIAL NOTION OF GENERATION FROM THE STAND-
POINT OF THE UNIVERSALITY AND UNITY OF THE
UNCONSCIOUS.
WE will now employ our recently obtained point of view
to clear up a few questions, which either have occupied
philosophers for thousands of years, or precisely at the
present time have acquired special interest among the
general public. It will be shown how the solutions
which flow from the principles already obtained are in
full accordance with what the facts to be explained
require, and what an unlaboured criticism of possible
explanations leaves over.
The first of these questions concerns the nature of
Generation. Formerly two theories contended concerning
generation, Creatianism and Traducianism. The former
assumed a psychical new creation on every occasion of
procreation; the latter, a transference of parts of the
paternal souls to the child. The former accordingly
affirms in every case of procreation a creation out of
nothing, a new miracle ; and is, therefore, unacceptable to
the more sober thinking of modern times; the latter,
however, contradicts the facts. For if a man with the
requisite number of women could easily beget over a
hundred children in the course of a year, during the time
of his procreative power, accordingly, many thousands,
and yet notoriously no diminution of his soul takes place;
on each act of generation the part given off to the child
must have been much less than the thousandth part
of the minimum which could just be traced as the
PHILOSOPHY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS. 277 .
soul's loss. With such a tiny piece of soul manifestly
the child could not for the length of time get along,
still less his children and children's children, which, in
decreasing progression, would soon acquire only the
billionth part of a soul ; accordingly, the transferred piece
could only be regarded as a germ, which is capable of
growth. Under a germ one understands, however, a
formal power which is able to draw to itself and to
assimilate foreign material elements, and thereby to grow.
If, then, the infant Soul were, at its engendering, only a
germ, the question occurs, Where are the foreign elements
to be sought by which it is augmented ? The materialists
answer very simply : The soul is only a result of material
combinations; accordingly with the growth of the organ-
ism and its noble parts the Soul also grows. This view we
can of course not accept, but it is at least clear and self-
consistent. But if we still ask where the elements to be
drawn upon are to be sought, there remains nothing but
the general spirituality, the impersonal psychical, in a
word, the Unconscious. From this, accordingly, the piece
given off from the parent-souls to the child-soul must
draw its stock of increase.
But why, then, is a soul-germ wanted, as the organic
germ can take the place of the same 2 Does the child in
the womb need another kind of psychical activity than
that of organic formation ? And when by means of this
unconscious psychical activity an organ is created in the
brain for conscious mental activity, is there then needed
yet another medium of attraction, in order that the Un-
conscious may turn its activity in this direction, than the
presence of this organ itself? Why, then, this unnatural
hypothesis of the given-off soul-germs, by which one must
either think of one-sided tendencies of the parental souls,
which are no aid to explanation, or diminutive souls,
hatched and detached, as it were—a horrible idea º
And how, then, came these soul-buds first to get into
the organic procreative germs, since both must be conceived
278 PHILOSOPHY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS.
as arising independently of one another ? Is there on
every seminal emission with each of the millions of sper-
matozoa a piece of soul carried away at random, or does
the detached diminutive soul of the father travel into the
particular spermatozoon, if the same has had the good
fortune to light upon an ovum of its own species capable
of fecundation ? And how does the diminutive soul of the
father, held in reserve, learn which spermatozoon, emitted
during coitus hours or days before, causes the fertilisation
of an ovum ? -
If the child’s soul is drawn from the well of the univer-
sal world-spirit, represents as it were the psychical appur-
tenance crystallised round the newly arisen organic germ,
this conveys an essentially different idea from that of
Creatianism, where the soul in the moment of generation
is created by God out of nothing. Further, this view does
not, like Creatianism, render unintelligible the transmis-
sion of psychical qualities, in that the organic germ is con-
ditioned by the qualities of the parents and the spirit
Crystallising, as it were, from the Unconscious, is again
modified according to the qualities of the organic germ.
In this sense, by transmission of the constitution of
the brain spiritual qualities may just as well be trans-
ferred from parents to children as a finger in excess or a
morbid diathesis. On the other hand, the addition of a
genius to the infant soul, demanded by higher historical
considerations, remains unrestricted; for if the Unconscious
needs special organs for its revelation, it prepares them also
in due time; it will create in an organism which offers itself
as especially appropriate an organ of consciousness, which
is capacitated for unusually lofty psychical achievements.
If in this way we escape the main inconvenience of
Traducianism and Creatianism, it is still always not to be
denied that as long as one regards the soul of the indi-
vidual not merely in its activity, but also in its essence,
its substance, as Something self-enclosed and limited, both
with respect to other individual souls and also with respect
METAPHYSIC OF THE UNCONSCIOUS. 279
to the universal spirit, that so long the theory of genera-
tion has its great difficulties; for the rending of a new soul
from the universal, and the attaching of the same to the
new organic germ, is a very dubious proceeding, whether
we regard this individualising of a new Soul as a process of
gradual crystallisation going hand-in-hand with the bodily
development of the germ, or whether we regard it as a single
momentary act, in which the new Soul is engrafted ready
made on the germ.
However, as soon as one remembers the results of our
last chapter but one, the matter begins to grow clear, for
now the soul both of each of the parents as well as of the
child is only the sum of the activities of the one Unconscious
directed to the particular organism."
Now the souls of the parents are not separate, Self-exist-
ing substances, can accordingly give off nothing of their
substance, and the child has no need to acquire any special
individualised soul, but its soul is likewise only the sum of
the activities of the Unconscious directed at any moment
on its organism. Could the parents really give off a portion
of their souls to the child, they would still only draw from
the great dish from which they, as all three, are fed.
Now there is also nothing wonderful in this, that the
infant soul only grows gradually in proportion to the
body, for the more developed becomes the organism, the
more varied, rich, and noble becomes the sum of the ac-
tivities of the Unconscious directed upon it. With our
principle not only is the miraculous lost, but also that
unique character that generation otherwise possesses; it
becomes an act essentially similar to conservation and
renovation even in spiritual reference, as it has long been
1 We hardly need remind the this only happened because, for the
reader that wherever the word
“soul” occurs in the first two sec-
tions of this book, it must not, after
the explanation of the last chapter,
be understood otherwise than in the
sense of the definition here given.
If in the earlier sections the monistic
view of the soul was less prominent,
understanding of the matter there
treated of, the current conception of
the soul sufficed, and by premature
insistance on the monistic point of
view a proper understanding of the
subject by the philosophically un-
trained reader' would have been
rendered needlessly difficult.
28o PHILOSOPHY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS.
so acknowledged in material reference. Should the Un-
conscious cease to direct its activity (as sensation, idea-
tion, will, organic formation, instinct, reflex action, &c.) at
any moment whatsoever upon any existing organism, the
latter would at the same moment be bereft of soul, i.e., be
dead, and would be unsparingly crushed by the laws of
matter, just as the matter of this organism would cease to
be as soon as the Unconscious intermitted the acts of will
in which its atomic forces consist. Just as well, however,
as the Unconscious at any moment animates every organism
capable of animation, will it also animate the newly aris-
ing germ according to its capability of being animated.
Add to this, that the moment is not at all to be determined
when the germ becomes from a part of the maternal the
independent organism, if one does not let the solution at
birth pass for such. As long, however, as the organism of
the child is a part of the maternal organism, and is nour-
ished by it, so long we have still to do with a process which
in essence is not distinguishable from any other organic
formation. This will become more clear if we glance at
the gradual progress from the lower kinds of propagation to
Sexual generation.
The simplest kind is fission, an ordinary case of the
increase of cells, but also not rare in infusoria and other
animals. That in a division of one animal into two there
can be no talk of a division of the substance of the soul
has been already repeatedly mentioned. There is a gra-
dual transition from fission to gemmation, for the bud too is
developed as part of the maternal Organism, until, rendered
capable of independent existence, it drops off (polyps, &c.)
A difference in principle in the process of formation
cannot be asserted, whether the animal replaces lost parts
or forms buds for multiplication. In the cases, however,
where the buds are characteristically presented as such, and
are no longer to be confused with simple fission, their
development from a single cell deposited in the maternal
tissue at any part of the body—germ-cell—is always to
METAPHYSIC OF THE UNCONSCIOUS. 28 I
be recognised. Now it can manifestly make no essential
difference at what part of the maternal organism the germ-
cell is found from which the new organism is developed,
whether this place lies at the side, or at an extremity, or
on the arms, or in the abdominal cavity of the animal,
or in a distinct Ovarium. The two latter cases are dis-
tinguished from increase by gemmation as increase by
germ-cells in the narrower sense. The germ-cells, which
are developed in the abdominal cavity or in a special sac,
mostly exhibit a marked external resemblance in form
and size to the ova of the higher animals. Nay, one may
even assert they are not to be distinguished morphologi-
cally from these.
In many animals (e.g., plant-lice) multiplication by
germ-cells already alternates with sexual propagation, or
one generative act is sufficient to fertilise the germ-cells
(or ova) for several successive broods. An insect belonging
to the Diptera, Cecidomyia, by sexual propagation begets
larvae which, living under the bark of decaying apple-trees,
develop without copulation in a species of ovary offspring
so advanced, that they come into the world in a form re-
sembling that of the mother. In some butterflies also the
remarkable phenomenon of virgin generation or parthe-
nogesis takes place, likewise in a whole series of lower
crustacea; in both the offspring born without fertilisation
are exclusively females; in the black humblebees, wasps,
and bees, on the other hand, conversely, the males come
forth from unfertilised, the females from fertilised eggs.
Whilst among the bees only the queen lays eggs, which it
can at will bring into contact with spermatozoa reserved
from a former copulation or not, in the humblebees and
wasps the bearers of the male and female offspring are
separate individuals; the females, namely, that have sur-
vived the winter, which had copulated in the autumn,
bring forth female young; these females born in spring,
however, now produce without being fecundated the
males for the autumn coupling—The germ-cell or the
*~
282 PHILOSOPHY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS.
unfertilised ovum develops in a manner perfectly analo-
gous to the fertilised ovum, only that the former does not
need the appulse of fertilisation; yet there are accredited
examples of the ova of animals that only increase sexually,
which were notoriously unfertilised, entering into the pro-
cess of yolk-furrowing, as if they were fertilised. (Such
cases were, e.g., observed years ago in the Ova of pigs by
the anatomist Bischof in Munich.) It is true their energy
did not reach very far, and they remained at the first
stages of embryonic development. Under certain circum-
stances, however, even here the process of growth of the
egg can proceed to a tolerably advanced stage; thus, e.g.,
it has long been known that hens without contact with a
cock sometimes lay unfertilised eggs, which have accord-
ingly traversed a tolerably long course of development from
their microscopic origin.
The seminal corpuscle penetrating into the yolk-mem-
brane with the point of its head, and there probably
exchanging by endosmosis its substance with the yolk,
does, therefore, nothing else in the first instance but give to
the yolk-mass a powerful impulse towards entering upon
the furrowing process, an impulse which is indispensable
under favourable circumstances for ova, under all circum-
stances for germ-cells. The transmission of qualities also
on the father's side, on the other hand, proves that the
union of procreative materials with the higher development
of sexual generation certainly acquires a still profounder
significance, in that through the mingling of the matter of
generation there is produced a real blending of the parental
qualities. The copulation of certain zoospores naturally
occurs to the mind as prototype of this process, in which
nothing but the united force of two cells appears to be
decisive as long as no difference of the combining elements
is to be made out, either in their own nature or in their
origin. -
According to the foregoing, we can see nothing further
in the formation of new organisms through a female animal,
METAPHYSIC OF THE UNCONSCIOUS. 283
whether with or without the aid of a male organism, than
an organic formation, which is distinguished from other
organic formation, e.g., the fresh development of certain
previously non-existent organs at certain periods of life,
not in the essence of the process, but only by the end
which the newly formed object subserves, in that this end
lies in all other organic formation (with the exception of
the lacteal secretion in mammals) within, and only in
generation without, the forming individual. If, now, the
new formation, no matter from what beginnings, has at-
tained a degree which renders it capable of existence as
an independent organism, there follows the liberation from
the maternal organism, an act to which we can hardly be
inclined to ascribe any psychical importance, which goes
beyond the reflectorial-instinctive accommodation to the
changed life-conditions (e.g., in mammals, occurrence of
respiration). -
Thus it is also empirically confirmed that the organism
of the embryo, of the foetus, and of the child, just as much
as any other part of a finished organism, has at every stage
and every moment of its life precisely as much Soul as it
needs for its own bodily preservation and continued develop-
ment, and as its organs of consciousness are able to grasp.
That, however, the Unconscious lays hold of life wherever
it can, and that in this respect, too, quite apart from its
connection with the maternal organism, the animation of
the new germ relatively to its capability of animation is
only the special case of a universal natural phenomenon,
will become still more evident from a few examples.
In Autenrieth’s “Views of the Life of Nature and of the
Soul,” we find on pp. 265–266 the following notes: “Thus
also Lister (Kirby and Spence, ‘Introduction to Entomo-
logy’), Bonnet and Stickney, saw caterpillars and pupae of
butterflies, and larvae of the Tipula oleracea freeze into
lumps of ice, and on being thawed revive.—According to
the more exact observations of Spallanzani (“Opuscoli
di Fisica Animale e Vegetabile,” Modena, vol. ii. p. 236),
284 PHILOSOPHY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS.
the tiny rotifers, Furcularia redivīva Lamarck, which are
found in boggy water and in the sand from gutters, if they
are not exposed to the open air, but covered in a little
sand-heap, and left to dry along with it, after the lapse
of three or even four years (during which time the dried
Sand has been preserved in a glass or a chip-box), some-
times revive as soon as the dry sand is moistened afresh
with water, except that the longer they are kept in the
dried state, the smaller is the number which again become
living and perform all the ordinary life-functions. They
revived, however, although by the process of drying they
had become so indurated (and they usually possess merely
a gelatinous body), that, if one pricked them with the
point of a needle, the body burst like a particle of salt
into several pieces. Thus these animalcules may be
alternately dried and rendered lifeless eleven times, and
yet when mollified in water again return to life. They
also do not lose their capability of becoming reanimated
if they freeze along with the water, and then are exposed
even to a cold of 19° R. below freezing-point; just as in
their dried-up state they may be exposed even to 54°
above freezing-point without losing the capability of
reviving by the aid of water, whilst, if they are in the
living condition, they perish utterly in warm water of
even 26°.”
Ibid., p. 20:-“John Franklin (‘First Voyage to the
Shores of the Polar Sea'), in the winter of 1820–1821, on
his first voyage to the North American coasts of the Arctic
Ocean, saw fishes freeze immediately on emerging from
the water, and become so solid an icy mass that they could
be cloven by the axe into pieces—even their viscera pre-
senting a mere solid frozen lump. Nevertheless, some of
these fishes when warmed at the fire, without previous
injury, recovered their vitality. A carp, notwithstanding
that it had been for six-and-thirty hours completely frozen,
recovered so completely that it was able to throw itself
about with considerable energy.”
METAPHYSIC OF THE UNCONSCIOUS. 285
When Ellis (“Voyage to Hudson's Bay”) was wintering
on the River Nelson at Hudson's Bay, a perfectly frozen
lump of black autumn-flies was found; on being brought
near the fire they revived. He reported that frogs are
often found there on the shores of the lakes as firmly frozen
as the ice itself, which yet, thawed by a moderate tempera-
ture, recovered to such a degree that they crept from one
place to another.
Thoroughly frozen trees, too, can, after being slowly
thawed, revive and put forth fresh leaves."
Hunter found, however, from his experiments, that when
a fish perished rather slowly in the intense cold, and then
was frozen, it became incapable of being recalled to life by
thawing, on which account the attempt is unsuccessful to
freeze an entirely warm-blooded animal and to try to re-
vive it by thawing; and we must renounce the hope of
ever again beholding in life, even under favourable circum-
stances, say an elephant or rhinoceros of the primeval
world, preserved quite whole in the polar ice, as one has
found toads in rocks in which they must have been en-
closed for centuries, perhaps thousands of years, and which
when liberated hopped about quite briskly.
When modern authorities declare the reanimation of
frozen warm-blooded animals to be impossible on account
of a decomposition of the blood induced by the frost, they
are met by the most recent investigations of Schenk, ac-
cording to which a temperature of – 3", sometimes even a
briefer refrigeration to — 7", is borne quite well by blood
corpuscles, Salivary corpuscles, Spermatozoa, and even by
1 Helleborus niger and Bellis peren-
mis freeze on the occurrence of cold
in all stages of florescence, and con-
tinue to grow after being thawed, a
circumstance which occurs more than
once in winters of variable tem-
perature. Göppert saw expanded
flowers for weeks in this state. Of
course there is for each species of
plant, even for those which bear cold
best, a definite limit, the overstep-
ping of which occasions death. Ac-
cording to Cohn's direct microscopi-
cal observations, e.g., cells of Nitella
Symcarpa perish on being cooled
below — 3° C., whilst the proto-
plasmic contents of the primordial
sac are disorganised by the freezing
of the water. Other plants, on the
contrary, die even some degrees
above freezing-point.
286 PHILOSOPHY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS.
fertilised ova, notwithstanding their more advanced state
of life, motion, and development. (Pox lymph, even after
prolonged cooling to — 78°, loses none of its force.) If the
proceedings on the questions appertaining to this subject
are not yet closed, yet the instances quoted are in general
sufficient to render plausible the a priori belief that
every trace of life can disappear from an organism, and
that notwithstanding the ability to begin a new life-career,
under favourable circumstances, can remain intact, if only
none of those changes have taken place in the same which
render anatomically or physiologically impossible the re-
sumption of the life-functions after the restoration of the
normal circumstances. For this it is necessary that both
during the lifeless condition (induced by dying or freezing,
or by hermetically sealing), as well as in the passage from
the normally vital to the lifeless condition (e.g., through the
Tapidity of the freezing), a chemical or histological change
detrimental to future vital activity be prevented. On the
other hand, such changes are indifferent as regards resus-
citation which only destroy the normal character of the
future vital functions, and cause the organism to awake
to a merely pathological life, which is, however, soon again
extinguished of itself.
In Rotifers one might assume that the drying up never
goes so far as to allow of any interchange of matter, so
that, strictly speaking, one would not have to do with an
absolute stoppage of the vital functions, but with their
reduction to a minimum (as in winter sleep). But even
this assumption fails when it is a question of frozen
bodies, as hard as stone, in the winter cold of the polar
regions, or of toads which have been enclosed in rocks
for centuries, or even still longer. For the latter, a
minimum of exchange of matter, which one may conceive
to be brought about by the water percolating the rock,
must have sufficed in the enormous stretch of time for
the animal's consumption. In the case of frozen organisms,
however, only a slight Superficial evaporation can have
METAPHYSIC OF THE UNCONSCIOUS. 287
taken place. Vital function, however, is rendered impos-
sible both by the absence of the most general physical
conditions of the organic change of matter, endosmosis, as
also by the indispensableness of a fluid state for every
chemical reaction.
Now, if it be granted that in the utterly frozen body every
organic function, i.e., all vital activity, is impossible, the body
is deprived of every trace of life, i.e., it is absolutely lifeless;
its condition is then specifically and totally different from all
states of depressed vital function, like sleep, hibernation,
swoon, tetanus, apparent death; the body in this condition
bears the same relation to life as an inorganic body.
It is of course intrinsically unimportant whether one
applies the epithet dead to the body, for that concerns
only the definition of the notion dead. If one absolutely
identifies lifeless and dead, as is natural, one will do so;
if one, however, makes a distinction between the two con-
ceptions, and calls only that lifeless object which cannot
become again living dead, one will not do so. The latter
view could, however, result only from the prejudice that
what is dead cannot again become alive, a proposition, of
course, not to be proved a priori, but only to be induced
from experience, and which for a long time might pass for
true. But now, when facts come to light showing that some-
thing dead can under certain circumstances become alive
again, one should rather recognise the exception to the
induction hitherto assumed as a universally valid axiom,
than arbitrarily restrict the conception “dead” for the
sake of the old prejudice. This remark would certainly
be idle, if that prejudiced limitation of the concept dead
did not also entail the further prejudice, that the abso-
lutely lifeless need not also be void of soul, which one
would rather have thought Self-evident; for the soul of a
body is indeed only the sum of the functions or activities
of the Unconscious referring to it, which for the sake of
brevity are called its vital functions.
From the circumstance that an organism, so long as it
288 PHILOSOPHY OF THE UNCONSCIO US.
is frozen, possesses neither life nor soul, it follows that if
after a certain time life and soul return to it, this soul
can no longer be regarded as one and the same with that
inherent in it before the passing into the frozen state,
since for the sameness of two temporally divided souls the
temporal continuity of the activities of the former with the
activities of the latter is requisite; but by no means can
the Sameness of the organism in question and the Similar
nature of the souls depending upon it be deemed suffi-
cient. If, to speak with the vulgar, on the cessation of
life the old soul has gone away, with the reappearance of
life another soul might just as well as the former one have
taken up its abode in the organism. The absurdity of this
way of regarding the subject is, however, immediately
evident, if one reflects that the Unconscious is all in all,
and remembers that old and new Soul are activities of the
same essence of the All-One directed to the same organ-
ism that sends life again immediately into the organisms,
So far as is possible, according to the laws of matter.
One sees from these examples that it makes no diffe-
rence to Nature whether, as ordinarily, the vital organisms
enjoy a continuity of their vital functions, or whether a
body hitherto incapable of life becomes at this moment
vital; as the possibility of life is given, the Unconscious ani-
mates it, in that it directs upon it the psychical functions
adapted to its constitution. If we then assume the case,
that the germ of a young organism, which we commonly
have seen arise as an integral element in the life-course of
the maternal organism, that such a germ, liberated from all
dependence on an already existing life, Suddenly begins to be,
it must just as infallibly as the thawed fish or the mollified
rotifer in the first moment of its organic capacity for life
be animated by the Unconscious, and Such a phenomenon
should now no longer be regarded as an isolated exception.
To this view I refer any one who should assert that the
unfertilised ovum is not yet animated, and only receives
its soul at the moment of fertilisation, which, indeed, in
METAPHYSIC OF THE UNCONSCIOUS. 289
lower animals, for the most part, takes place outside the
maternal organism; although this conception not only runs
counter to our view of the animation of every cell, but
also fails to explain the evolution of the germ-cell without
fertilisation. But at any rate our doctrine finds a sufficient
application in the instance of spontaneous generation, or
the arising of organic beings from inorganic matter with-
out a maternal organism. Such an original generation
must have taken place, for geology shows that the earth has
gradually cooled down from a molten mass to our present
temperature; but now, as no organisms can exist at a
temperature higher than that required for the coagula-
tion of albumen, the earth must, for the longest part of
its existence, have been uninhabited; and as it is now
actually peopled by organisms, there must of necessity
have been a point of time when the first being or beings
came into existence," whereas before this time there only
existed inorganic matter. Here the conception of spon-
taneous generation is satisfied. •
I do not say that at that point of time no organic, but
only that no organised matter was in existence; on the
contrary, I believe we must assume that, under the in-
fluence of a humid atmosphere, very rich in carbonic acid,
of greater heat, of light, and strong electrical influences,
even by the inorganic path highly complex combina-
tions of carbon, hydrogen, oxygen, and nitrogen were
formed, which the chemists of to-day, on account of their
especial occurrence in organic beings, have designated by
the improper name of organic substances.
Very recent chemical investigations have succeeded in
refuting the earlier assumption, that organic substances
could not be obtained by an inorganic path, by facts so
1 When Thomson (speech at the
British Association for the Advance-
ment of Science at Edinburgh, 1871)
suggests a transferring to our earth
of germs elsewhere developed by
means of meteoric stones, he has to
meet the difficulty that such germs
WOL. II.
must always be destroyed by the
heat produced in cleaving the at-
mosphere before reaching the earth's
surface, if they had not been pre-
viously killed by cold in the mun-
dane space.
T
29O PHILOSOPHY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS.
striking,that it now only seems a question of time when man
shall obtain complete mastery over the province of organic
chemistry likewise. Synthetic chemistry is already in the
Organic department on a level with analytic chemistry. A
number of the most talented investigators (e.g., Berthelot)
devote their energies to it, and well-nigh every month it
has new and striking triumphs to report. The problem
of producing the acids, aldehydes, and alcohols belonging
to the so-called fat series from inorganic elements is to
be regarded as solved in principle, and the discoveries in
the so-called aromatic series (to which most liquid com-
bustibles, organic colouring matters, essences, and perfumes
belong) take place with such rapidity and with such cer-
tainty, that we now hardly need to ascertain more than
the organic-chemical constitution of such bodies in order
to be sure of their synthesis in advance. But the keen
eye of the chemist gazes still farther; the resinous and
Saccharine substances are beginning to reveal their true
nature, and to awaken unbounded hopes for the future of
organic synthesis. -
If thus the boundary-line between inorganic and organic
matter has long fallen away, that between inorganic and or-
ganic form begins more and more to waver. Undoubtedly
the compound organic types exhibit forms for which (with
the exception of the radiated type) no analogy is found in
inorganic nature; but we must not forget that life dwells
also even in the great kingdom of unicellular organisms,
and the cell finds, in fact, its analogue in inorganic nature.
In the first place, most fluids possess at their surface a
considerably greater density and tenacity than in their
interior, a difference which appears nowhere more plainly
than in albumen and its solutions. If in every drop an
analogy here presents itself with the often infinitely delicate
cellular membrane, the resemblance becomes a surprising
morphological identity with starch-granules in the micros-
copic corpuscles of carbonate of lime, which Famintzin pre-
cipitated by bringing together saturated solutions of chloride
METAPHYSIC OF THE UNCONSCIOUS. 291.
of calcium and carbonate of lime. Here is exhibited the
same nucleus, the same stratification, the same concrescence
of Several granules, the same augmented capacity of resist-
ance of the internal layer to acetic acid as in the starch
granules. It follows from this, in the first place, that
starch granules are not living cells, but lifeless secre-
tions of other living elements, a magazine of material des-
tined for future reconsumption. But it also follows that
the cell-form, with nucleus and membrane, of itself proves
nothing at all with respect to the existence of Organic life,
not even when it has organic matter for its contents, but
that for life something quite offer is required than organic
matter and Organic form, something ideal, which manifests
itself in the preservation and elaboration of the form by.
the interchange of matter, whilst every conservation of the
form by passive conservation of the matter is related to
life as a mummy, which at the most deludes the naked eye.
with the semblance of life. -
I said, therefore, it is probable that before the coming
into existence of the simplest organisms, so-called organic
combinations of a lower stage were already in existence,
which rendered the building up of an Organism from them
essentially easier, as water, carbonic acid, and ammonia, by
which complete organisms are nourished. For the forma-
tion of the primitive germ these organic substances would
then have, at least, played the part of manure, which now
arises from the process of decomposition of organisms.
The probability that these first organisms lived in water.
is generally recognised; that they must have been very
simple beings, simple cells standing at the indifference-
point between plant and animal, has been already shown
in Sect. C. Chap. iv. Now, however the process itself may
be conceived in detail, this must be firmly held, that the
Unconscious apprehended and realised the first possibility of
organic life that occurred. When previously, in discussing
sexual generation, we conceived the “moment” of the
animation of the germ, as if the Unconscious approaches a
292 PHILOSOPHY OF THE UNCONSCIO US.
formed germ in order to animate it, this was only admissible
because, in harmony with the traditional mode of apprehen-
sion, we tacitly supposed the unconscious-psychical activi-
ties requisite for the formation of the germ to proceed from
the parental organisms; but now, as such a distinction
has no place from the point of view of the All and Only
Unconscious, we must call to mind that the animation of
the germ does not follow, but precedes the origin of the
germ, i.e., that the germ can only come into existence by
the Unconscious causing a special activity to effect its ori-
gination, which predestines its typical form in accordance
with the possibilities given by the existing conditions,
precisely as in the plastic energy of the vis medicatria, the
typical form of the leg growing again on the Salamander is
predestined by the activity of the Unconscious. Here, as
there, no inorganic laws of Nature are contradicted, none
assumed to be inactive even for a moment, but they are
only employed for a higher purpose; something is formed
which could not have come to pass solely by the co-opera-
tion of the laws of inorganic Nature, and which only
becomes possible through the will of the Unconscious
stepping in and inducing a state of affairs in which now,
by the normal action of the inorganic laws of Nature, a
new form capable of new performances is fashioned.
As the Unconscious hourly seeks to realise and to
retain life in millions of germs, which indeed are soon
again, often even at their origin, dashed to pieces, owing
to unfavourable circumstances, through the pitiless neces-
sity of inorganic laws, so when first life Seethed on the
earth's surface millions of primitive germs may have been
nipped in the bud before life succeeded in taking firm
footing, as it were, on the earth. But when once it had
succeeded in producing one or a few organisms, the Uncon-
scious had freer play from this conquered basis of opera-
tions; it could now Secure the aid of parental procreation,
and by its help maintain and extend the conquered
ground with proportionately less effort. For it is mani-
METAPHYSIC OF THE UNCONSCIOUS. 293
festly very much easier to draw together the organic Sub-
stances diffused and distributed in the water about an
existing organism than around an ideal point ; it is very
much more easy to effect the requisite chemical transfor-
mations and modifications by assimilation aided by the
contact action of a given organism than without such ;
and it is very much easier to produce the typical form of
the cell, with its ever-richer inner articulation, through the
simple artifice of cell-division with the help of furrowing,
than from amorphous matter.
It needs, then, at all events, an infinitely far less effort"
of the will, to form organisms by the aid of those already
existent, than without the same, just as in the case of a
higher animal it needs a far less effort to act on tissue
with the help of nerves than without.
We may then
* It might appear to superficial
observation as if the resistance which
the Unconscious finds in inorganic
matter to its organising activity
were an instance against the all-unity
of the Unconscious. This is, how-
ever, by no means the case. We
have seen above that the strife
and struggle of the individualised
matural forces or formations of the
Unconscious is a necessary condition
for the coming to pass of the objec-
tive phenomenal world and for the
origin of consciousness in particular
(comp. pp. 227, 228); here occurs
only a special case of this general
truth. As little as an organisation
could proceed from mere inorganic
matter without an organising prin-
ciple, so little could the organising
principle realise itself in organisms,
if it did not find matter pre-existent.
The Unconscious must, therefore,
previously create a matter in order
to be able to create organisms, the
substrata of consciousness, and,
moreover, a matter subjected to
exceptionless laws, because only in
such is the setting up of accessory
mechanisms possible, which always
perform the same tasks. That,
however, such a matter, comporting
itself according to its own laws,
which of itself does not tend to the
formation of organisms, opposes a
certain resistance to the activity
of the Unconscious, which con-
strains it to the formation of
organisms, is self-evident, and it
is no wonder that this resistance,
varying in amount according to the
accidental configuration of the na-
tural forces active at any spot, can
under certain circumstances assume
such proportions that the Uncon-
scious, interested only in the uni-
versal, not in the single case, forbears
to master the difficulties that pre-
sent themselves, since it more easily
attains by another path, or attains
indeed at other places, often enough
for the purposes of the whole process,
the same end. (This explains, e.g.,
abortions in consequence of material
disturbances of embryonic develop-
ment.)—According to these observa-
tions, the expression “effort,” if one
only keeps aloof from every anthro-
popathic suggestion, need no longer
appear unsuitable for the designa-
tion of the degree of the intensity
of the will, the application of which
is requisite in behalf of the organisa-
tion for the overcoming of occasional
material resistance,
\
294 PHILOSOPHY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS.
assume that the same application of force or will, whereby
a cell comes to be by means of spontaneous generation, is
sufficient to form many millions of cells by cell-division.
But now we have found that Nature altogether is bent
upon attaining her ends with the least possible application
of force; that she everywhere prefers the setting up of me-
chanical contrivances for utilizing the inorganic molecular
forces actually present to direct intervention; at any rate,
however, she tries to limit these interpositions, since in the
last resort they are not quite to be done away with, to a
minimum of expended force.
Thus we saw (Sect. A. Chap. i. a) that the nervous system
of animals is nothing else than such a force-saving machine,
which by means of the slight triggers and levers of the brain
overcomes hundredweights attached to the limbs. We
saw (Sect. A. Chap. iii. v. vi. viii. and C. iv.) a number of
contrivances in animals and plants so arranged that the
facilitation of stimuli by these provisions, or even their
purely mechanical mode of action, rendered special instincts
superfluous. Conversely we saw instincts employed to
render needless extensive efforts in organic formation, e.g.
(B. Chap. ii. and v.), the instinct of sexual selection to
achieve an improvement of the race in respect of beauty
and otherwise; the next chapter will furnish us with
more examples of a like kind, which prove with what
delicacy the Unconscious everywhere endeavours to attain
its ends in the most mechanical, i.e., least troublesome
Iſlanner.
From this point of view now likewise sexual generation
appears as a mechanism replacing spontaneous generation
by an immense Saving of energy.
As a rational man does not ride across country when
there is at hand a turnpike road, neither does the Uncon-
Scious after establishing a nervous system in an animal
still effect muscular contraction by direct action of the will
on the muscular fibres, nor continue to make use of spon-
taneous generation when sexual generation is open to it.
METAPHYSIC OF THE UNCONSCIOUS. 295
This law derived from the nature of spontaneous
generation has very recently attained its complete em-
pirical confirmation, in that the microscope has uniformly
revealed, where one had formerly supposed spontaneous
generation, sexual generation, and at the present day
no Single case of actual spontaneous generation has been
observed, notwithstanding that the microscope has very
carefully swept the province of minute life in all direc-
tions.
I do not at all dispute that the possibility is at any
moment open of establishing spontaneous generation at
the present time ; I even concede that the negative proof,
that now there can be no spontaneous generation, must
always remain for experientialism an impossibility; but
nevertheless we may well assume that an assertion, in
which theory and empirical observation agree, has a con-
siderable probability in its favour.
For the reader not conversant with the interesting facts
relating to this subject I add a short notice of the same.
Aristotle believed that most of the lower animals arose
by spontaneous generation. A few centuries ago spon-
taneous generation was assumed for intestinal worms and
infusoria, although for a long time voices were heard
suggesting the possible overlooking of parental germs.
Rirst the modes of immigration and different states of
the intestinal worms were scientifically established; then
it was shown that infusions boiled for more than five
hours, which came in contact only with heated air,
gave rise to no organisms. The advocates of spontaneous
generation, however, justly replied that the heating of the
air must also destroy the capability of the production of
organisms.
Schröder and Dusch first showed that a plug of cotton
twenty inches in length filtrates the air in such a way
that it allows no organisms to arise.—Pasteur examined
the germs floating in the air by catching them in gun-
cotton and dissolving the latter in ether and alcohol.
296 PHILOSOPHY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS.
He found the same to answer in all respects to the
otherwise familiar germs of the lowest animals. He also
positively proved, that they are the cause of the develop-
ment of Organisms in the infusions, by introducing along
with the heated air a small plug of cotton containing
germs, and the Organisms always appeared, as if the air had
had free access. Pasteur even compared by an ingenious
method the relative quantities of the germs contained in
the air at different localities. Recently Crace-Calvert
ascertained by his exact investigations that temperatures
of 100° C. do not essentially affect the minute organisms
in question;" that at 149° C. only those which develop in
solution of gelatine become incapable of germination, but
that for the destruction of the germinal power of the
organisms which develop in the other experimental Solu-
tions a temperature of 204°C. is requisite. Accordingly
the assumption of a spontaneous generation in infusions
has been scientifically set at rest once for all.
I will mention one more case, the origination of Monas
amyli. A swarm of unicellular infusoria was seen to arise
in starch granules, and it was thought that spontaneous
generation was being witnessed. But when the history of
these creatures was traced farther, one saw them become
liberated on the final disruption of the starch granule,
each seek a fresh starch granule and completely cover it,
expanding after the fashion of the Amoebae. This thin
little skin on the surface of the grain, the animal, which
had swallowed the corn, as it were, and now slowly digested
it in layers, had previously escaped observation. Now, of
course, the origin of the brood was recognised as endogenous
increase.
The law of reproduction is so universal in Nature, that
not only no case of the parentless origin of an animal or
a plant is known to us, but even not a case of the parentless
origin of a cell in an eſcisting organism.
* Those capable of resisting higher according to the same investigator
temperatures are, according to Ferd. the germs of Bacterium are killed
Cohn, the germs of Pemicillium, whilst already at 80° C.
METAPHYSIC OF THE UNCONSCIOUS. 297
If spontaneous generation could occur anywhere, one
would certainly expect to find it in a spontaneous arising
of cells in the juices of an existing organism, where both
the temperature and the chemical composition of organic
matter affords the most favourable suppositions conceiv-
able; but in vain. Even within the organism cell only arises
from cell. -
All Sober-minded naturalists allow that, from the
negative results of the most careful investigations with
our present perfect instruments, there results a high pro-
bability for the supposition that spontaneous generation
does not take place at the present day. From the proba-
bility of this assumption one must however regressively
conclude that the spontaneous generation even of the
simplest Protozoa must be none so easy and simple an
affair, and that for the re-establishment of the same quite
other conditions are required than a mere mechanical
individuation of existing protein substances. Were it
not so, the spontaneous generation of Protozoa from
protein-containing fluids must be observable under the
microscope with the proper temperature, illumination,
Ozone-containing air, &c.; but even supposing a case of
successful experiment, it would still never appear credible
that such a Moner, which always belongs to a well-defined
species in virtue of its mode of nutrition and propagation,
could arise and functionally persist by the mere play of
inorganic atomic forces (comp. also pp. 212, 213 and 291–
293), without psychical influences from the Unconscious
ideally regulating the mode of this activity.
( 298 )
X.
THE ASCENDING EVOLUTION OF ORGANIC LIFE
ON THE EARTH.
WE have in the last chapter shown the probability of the
assertion that the Unconscious expended its energy in
Spontaneous generation only as long as was necessary,
i.e., until reproduction could be substituted for it. From
the same first principle of Nature of the greatest possible
saving of energy directly follows also the other proposition,
presupposed as self-evident in the preceding considerations,
that spontaneous generation, i.e., a direct production from
unorganised matter, can only have reference to the very
simplest forms of organic life; that, on the contrary, for
the genesis of higher life-forms the Unconscious will by
no means choose the course of direct production, so diffi-
cult for the simplest beings, but a mode of Origination
effected by gradual stages. Not that I would maintain
the absolute impossibility of the direct original creation
of a higher animal; on the contrary, I have always main-
tained the Will can do what it will, if it only wills with
sufficient intensity to overcome the opposing acts of will.
Not that I would deny the theoretic possibility that even
within the range of the inorganic laws of Nature, at certain
moments of terrestrial development, the Unconscious
could have set up a direct spontaneous generation of
higher animals; to presume to decide the point were
folly. Only this much I assert, that a direct spontaneous
generation of higher organisms would have required an
enormous application of force, an expenditure of energy
METAPHYSIC OF THE UNCONSCIOUS. 299
which would have infinitely exceeded that requisite for
the original creation of the simplest cell; that therefore
the infallibly logical in the Unconscious, agreeably to the
principle of the attainment of all ends with the least
possible expenditure of energy, could not but prefer to
the spontaneous generation of higher organisms a mode
of production effected by many transitional stages, each
of which, besides paving the way for higher beings, served
in addition other and independent ends, and at the same
time was attainable with a relatively trifling expenditure
of force by means of a plastic principle of descent.
If we ask plainly, what would be needed for the spon-
taneous generation of a higher organism 2 the answer is: in
the first instance, organic Substances of not too low chemical
composition in sufficient quantity and sufficient concen-
tration. Where, however, are these more easily to be found
than in an already existing inferior organism 3 In any case,
therefore, the direct transformation of an already existing
inferior organism into a higher one (e.g., of a worm into a
fish) would offer fewer difficulties than the spontaneous
generation of the latter without the assistance of an exist-
ing organism. But here too the difficulties would always
be still so great, that an enormous application of the energy
of the Unconscious would be required to surmount them;
for the already established forms and elaborated organs of
the lower organism must for the most part be first anni-
hilated, in order to give place to the corresponding forms
and organs of the higher being. This not inconsiderable
negative work, of previously annihilating what had been
created in the embryonic development of the lower organism,
is manifestly altogether avoided if the metamorphosis
begins at stages of development so early that these specific
forms and organs of the lower stage are never brought
to perfection, but in lieu thereof at once those of the
higher grade. Strictly then one can only speak in an
deal sense of a metamorphosis, for only the ideal type,
which proceeded according to the ordinary course of de-
3OO PHILOSOPHY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS,
velopment from the germ of the lower organism, has
yielded to the realisation of a different ideal type, but in
reality no transformation, but only an embryonic develop-
ment has taken place. Even Agassiz, a leading upholder
of the distinct creation of species, admits that this creation
could only have taken place in the form of ova, and that
for the development of these asexually created ova there
must at the same time have been created similar conditions
to those under which the sexually produced ova now
develop, which indeed comes to this, that foster parents,
of course from other species, must have been provided for
the Ova needing parental care.
But now I ask, which conception is the more monstrous,
this, that an individual of a higher species is evolved from
the ovum of a lower species, or this, that the ovum of the
higher species was made at a stroke by spontaneous gene-
ration, an ovum, indeed, from which absolutely nothing but
this higher species could proceed, and in which conse-
quently all the characters of the higher species were al-
ready implicitly contained? It is, moreover, to be remarked
that the Ova of the highest and those of the lowest animals
are morphologically and chemically so similar, and the
first stages of development—of embryonic development—
are so uniform, that they are not at all or scarcely, and even
then for the most part only by accidental signs, to be dis-
tinguished. It is of no avail to rely on this, that usually
all the characters of the genus are actually implicitly con-
tained in the fertilised ovum of a species. However correct
this (for the rest indemonstrable) view may be, yet an ovum
must always have already passed through a number of
stages of development before it can possess independent
existence, and the young be hatched by the action of solar
heat, or the animal heat of the foster parents, or the tem-
perature of the earth for the time being, not to mention
that the ova of the animals which bring forth living
young never attain this independence. Where now shall
this development of the ovum before self-dependence have
METAPHYSIC OF THE UNCONSCIOUS. 3OI
taken place; whence is it supposed to have got its stock of
albumen, unless from a female animal; whence came the
first focus for the primitive yolk-sac, unless it lay in an
Ovary 2 Albumen is in truth not so common in inor-
ganic nature that the spontaneous generation of a yolk-sac
were something easy. At all events, it would have cost
the Unconscious infinitely more difficulty to produce by
spontaneous generation such an egg, possessed of all the
characters of the higher species to be newly created, than
either to evolve an individual of the new higher species
from an ovum containing the characters of another inferior
kind, by obliterating these characters always merely fore-
shadowed in the germ, and adding new ones, or however
to develop the ovum containing entire the characters of
the new higher species in the ovary of an individual of
a lower species, or, lastly, to make use of both expedients at
the Same time, i.e., to develop an ovum particularly favour-
ably constituted in view of the new species, both in the ovary
of the inferior individual, as well as after quitting the same
with the modifications necessary for attaining the higher
species. Where is the natural origin of the individual un-
less in the ovum ? Where is the natural origin of the ovum
unless in the ovary of a female animal 2 How incon-
siderable appear the difficulties, which the Unconscious
has to overcome in the evolution of a higher Organism
from the womb of a lower, to the colossal difficulties
which would oppose it in the original creation of the
higher organism. When we have thus only a choice
between these two assumptions, we shall unhesitatingly
decide for the former, that the higher species proceeds by
reproduction from the lower, but by a reproduction with
modified development of the ovum, as Kölliker (Siebold
and Kölliker, Zeitschrift für Wissenschaftl. Zoolog, and
Medic., 1865, Heft 3), who adopts this point of view, calls
it, “heterogeneous generation.”
We have hereby gained a fixed support for the interme-
diate stages presupposed from the very first for the produc-
3O2 PHILOSOPHY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS.
tion of higher animals; it is a scale of ever higher and
higher species by which the organising Unconscious
realises the highest organisms. Certain, however, as is
this general result, no less certain, however, is it that we
cannot stop there.
Although we have proved in Sect. A. Chap. viii. that
the Unconscious is active at every moment of organic
formation at every part of the organism, and makes its
influence felt quite specially in the relatively impetuous
embryonic development, yet, on the other hand, it is not to
be denied that, as everywhere where it is possible, so also
for the evolution of the ovum the Unconscious has, as far
as possible, facilitated its intervention and reduced the
material actions to a minimum by previously established
mechanisms. Accordingly, in all probability, there exists
in the male and female reproductive materials an energy
intentionally implanted by it itself at earlier stages,
which enables these substances to develop under the
requisite psychical guidance more easily in the direction
predesignated in the parental organism than in any
other. Now since the Unconscious always follows the
line of development previously indicated, as the giréction
corresponding in general to its predetermined ends! agd
offering the least resistance to realisation, if it has no
particular reason for deviation for a particular purpose;
and since such a reason is wanting in ordinary, genera-
tion, where the Sole end is the preservation of the species,
it usually takes, in the psychical guidance of embryonic
development, the course indicated as the easiest by the
qualities previously imparted by itself to the materials of
generation, i.e., the begotten resembles the begetters, and this
phenomenon is called the “transmission or inheritance of
qualities.” . -
Trom such a universal teleological rule the Unconscious
is the less inclined to deviate the more general is its
scope, e.g., from the inorganic laws of Nature not at all.
Since now the difficulties are already sufficiently great,
*
METAPHYSIC OF THE UNCONSCIOUS. 3O3
which arise through the transcending of old species and
the adding on of new characters, the Unconscious will seek
to withdraw itself as far as possible from those difficulties,
which it would have to overcome in the annihilation of
such characters of the old species as could or should
not be taken over into the new species, and will for this
purpose seek to create the new higher species from those
species in which only new characters are to be added, but
the fewest possible or no extant positive characters are to
be destroyed, i.e., from relatively imperfect species, pro-
vided with few specific characters, affording much scope
for further development, but not from species already
highly developed, strongly differentiated, and endowed with
many and definite characters.
This is fully confirmed by the palaeontological history
of the animal kingdom. Every important order of the
animal kingdom resembles the branch of a huge tree, and
at a particular geological period is developed from lowly
beginnings into higher forms. It is not these latter, how-
ever, that resemble the extremities of the branch, whence,
under the changed circumstances of a later geological
period, a new animal order arises, for they have by
abundance of decided characters strayed, as it were, into
a cul de Sac, but those imperfect primitive stocks of the
order, that have maintained themselves in the struggle for
existence with trouble and difficulty all through the
earlier period against their far Superior descendants,
the shy offshoots of the branch, as it were, standing
nearest to the trunk, from which, by addition of new
and hitherto non-existing characters, the new order sub-
sequently arises. This is a general law of Nature, the
special application of which to the development of
humanity has long been familiar to every student of
history. If the races or stocks, which at a certain time
represent the Summit of the human evolution, have
fallen into stagnation (or temporary depravity), there
appear less developed virgin races or stocks, as it were
A
ºº
3O4 PHILOSOPHY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS.
on the theatre of history, to develop speedily to a height
which decidedly exceeds the bloom of the previous most
advanced races (pp. 11–13). It is the same in the de-
velopment of the animal kingdom, only that the advance
in organisation always going hand in hand with growing
intelligence is there more obvious than in the case of man,
who, with the exception of the increased development of
brain, forms and fashions the organs of his growing culture
into external instruments (instead of like the animal into
bodily organs).-Defective as is our knowledge of the
transitional stages, derived from the forms preserved in the
existing fauna and the palaeontological remains hitherto
found, it yet perfectly suffices to sustain the above assertion.
After the Crustacea have attained their maximum de-
velopment in the crabs, the Arachnida make their ap-
pearance with the very imperfect mites; after these have
reached their limits in the spider, there follows in the
insects a retrogression to the inferior lice. The highest
forms of the Mollusca are the Sepiae, of the Articulata the
IIymenoptera ; both are far more highly organised than
the lowest known fishes, both possessed a form as per-
fect as that met with to-day, before the Vertebrata existed
at all. But they were too one-sidedly and too completely
differentiated for a class to spring from them requiring
quite other fundamental structural conditions. Fishes
rather developed from Ascidians, Worms, and Crustaceans.
Eor reasons easy to understand, the oldest fossil fishes
belong only to the transitional forms of the Crustacea,
because the other two classes were too soft to leave fossil
remains; on the other hand, the transitional forms of the
latter have remained as two species down to the present
day. The almost transparent little lancelot, two inches
long, living on the coasts of the North Sea and Mediter-
ranean, Amphioxus lanceolatus Pall, possesses no skull and
no vertebral column, but only a simple massive cartila-
ginous cord as support of the nervous axis, no brain
separated from the Spinal cord, no heart no spleen, only
METAPHYSIC OF THE UNCONSCIOUS. 305
a coecum in lieu of a liver, no coloured blood, no proper
fins, but merely a narrow membranous border expanded
at the caudal extremity. Just as Linnaeus had regarded
another fish (Myaine) as a worm, so had Pallas taken
the Amphioxus for a slug (Limaa); but recent anato-
mical investigations have proved that it is constructed
on the type of the Vertebrata, represents the lowest
known stage of fishes, and altogether must pass for the
prototype or primitive form of the whole vertebrate king-
dom, as the immediate descendant of the oldest Verte-
brata of the primaeval world, whose relatives undoubtedly :
peopled the primitive seas in innumerable quantities.
The Amphioxus is most related to the Ascidians (a
kind of mollusc), in which not only in embryonic de-
velopment” (as in certain lower worms) the peculiar
formation of the so-called germinal membrane, hitherto
regarded as characteristic of the vertebrate type, presents
a similar appearance to that of Amphioxus, but which
even at a certain stage of their development possess
the cartilaginous groundwork of the vertebral column,
although, to be sure, they afterwards lose it again.
Passing from the fishes to the Amphibia, a transition is
again presented only in imperfect and lowly forms, whilst
the two classes part company from one another the more
they are developed in their characteristic one-sidedness.
The scaly salamander living in the Amazon, or Lepidosirem.
paradoxa Natt., is an animal three feet long with a fish-
like form, with gills and a scaly covering, which altogether
answers to that of the Osseous fishes. Two fins on the head
* Embryology is now one of the
most important aids and sources of
inquiry for the theory of descent,
since we may say generally that
every animal in its embryonic de-
velopment briefly repeats the stages
of organisation of the embryonic
development of all its direct ances-
tors. Forms which do not lie in the
direct line of descent, but only in
side-lines, are never met with ; but
the development-series even of the
WOL. II.
direct ancestors, especially of the ,
more remote ones, may be indicated
in a form so abbreviated, nay, even
proceed by such leaps, that the eye
of the investigator only perceives
the likeness to the remote ances-
tors, when he comprehends them by
the light of the study of the em-
bryology of intermediate stages of
organisation (e.g., Mammal and As-
cidian through Amphioxus).
U
306 PHILOSOPHY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS.
and two on the belly indicate the anterior and posterior
limbs. Besides the gills, however, the animal has also
a pair of lungs, which open by an air-passage into the
Oesophagus; accordingly an organisation such as never
occurs in the true fishes, but, indeed, in the fish-like Sau-
rians, e.g., Proteus. Respiration and circulation accordingly
assign the scaly Salamander to the higher class of the Am-
phibia, whereas all the rest of the organisation is that of a
fish. If we now consider the stage of development of
the animal simply as vertebrate, it stands as low in the
scale as possible. Its skeleton is only imperfectly ossified,
the vertebral column consists of an undivided cartilagi-
nous cord, to which the Ossified vertebral arches are fitted.
Similar to Lepidosiren is constructed the Protopterus
living in Western Africa, which in the flooded marshes
only needs gills, in the dried-up marshes, however, lungs.
Huxley, fifteen years ago, found these marks sufficient
to fix the derivation of the double-breathing scaly salag.
mander from the circular-scaled cartilaginous fishes, a
determination no longer doubtful since the discovery of
an animal (Ceratodus) by Krefft in the river Burnett
(Queensland), which is exactly intermediate between the
cartilaginous fishes and Scaly Salamanders (figured and
described in the “Ergänzungsbl.,” vi. p. 227). It may
accordingly be regarded as proved that the Amphibia (and
along with these also the higher animals) spring from the
cartilaginous fishes, and that the osseous fishes now mostly
peopling the waters form a side-branch in the pedigree
of the animal kingdom, in which they rank decidedly
higher than the cartilaginous fishes.-These examples may
suffice to verify and to illustrate our assertion.
These facts, which Darwin admits, cannot be explained
by his assertion that the strict constancy of the trans-
mission of qualities is in every case determined by the
duration of their persistency, and that every species is
the less inclined to deviate from its specific character.
the older it is. There lies in this assertion the truth
METAPHYSIC OF THE UNCONSCIOUS. 307
that young species stand nearer to the original stock
than older ones, which, unmindful of their origin, as
it were, have become arrested in their limited idiosyn-
crasies, and that therefore young species of common descent
show, even among one another, more affinity and capa-
bility of mixture than older ones. Such young species
which give rise in crossing to hybrid races, are called fluent
species, in contrast to the Self-contained fixed species,
in which each hybrid race again speedily perishes by
reversion to the stock. Such fluent species are, e.g., the
species of dogs, finches, mice, whilst the races of man are
in the stage of transition from fluid to fixed species; at
that stage, indeed, when between the more remote forms of
the series no permanent hybrid race is any longer to be
obtained.—Decidedly incorrect, on the contrary, is the
above assertion of Darwin, so far as he asserts that
universally and uniformly the capability of varying de-
creases with the length of persistence; rather the artificial
breeding of plants and animals has hitherto revealed no
difference in the capacity for variation of old and young
Species. But suppose the assertion were correct, we
should in consequence expect just the contrary of what it
is said to explain; for as the more perfect and highly
differentiated species are always of more recent existence,
accordingly are younger than their less perfect stem forms,
the latter, as the older, would be less adapted for com-
mencing a new-development series, whereas the facts teach
the contrary. We must therefore maintain that more
perfect species do in fact vary just as easily and just as
much as the more imperfect, if they are caused so to do
by change of circumstances; only the former have not the
tendency to be so easily converted into higher orders as
the latter; and why this is not the case, and why this
conversion into a new Order only takes place when
within the previous order the abundance of the more
perfect forms is exhausted, can never be proved from the
assumptions of the Darwinian theory.-
308 PHILOSOPHY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS.
Having become acquainted in heterogeneous generation
with the one expedient employed by the Unconscious to
facilitate the formation of new species, let us observe its
operation a little more closely. Hitherto we have not at
all taken into consideration how far in heterogeneous
generation the offspring may differ from the parents. It
is, however, clear that the Unconscious, in the formation
of higher species, will make no unnecessary leaps, but
draw the boundaries as close as possible to one another.
A leap there certainly always is, for otherwise indefinitely
numerous generations must fill up the gap between one
species and the next, which in the limited period of deve-
lopment of organisation on the earth is impossible. But at
any rate, the actual step will overleap no species lying
directly in the line of development, but at the most pass
at once to the meat higher species.
Here we approach the question how far a species may
lie from the nearest related one, or how the notion of a
species may exclude, on the one hand, differences that are
greater than specific, on the other hand, those that are
less than specific ; or, in a word, the question with regard
to the definition of the term. Species. But now every un-
prejudiced naturalist admits that such limitations of the
idea of species are not at all found in Nature, but that it
passes by very fine degrees on the one side into the
motion of the variety or of the race, and on the other hand
into that of the family, or however one calls the nearest
higher class; that accordingly, as in all quantitatively
limited notions, it is a matter of Subjective caprice and of
mutual agreement how far one shall extend the notion
of species; that, indeed, on the whole there is agreement
as to those anatomical and outward marks which apper-
tain to a difference of species, but that naturally at the
boundaries differences of opinion will always remain as
to the application of this notion, Some have thought to
settle the dispute by Setting up as a criterion of the
specific difference of two animals the impossibility of
begetting fertile offspring. But, in the first place, two
METAPHYSIC OF THE UNCONSCIOUS. 309
animals are not necessarily very different because they
can beget no fertile offspring, but they are unable to
engender fertile offspring because they exceed a certain
limit of difference, and this mark would accordingly not
concern the essential notion, but only a corollary of the
specific difference. Secondly, however, the limit of the
generation of fertile offspring is just as fluent as the idea
of a species, since only the relative number of procreative
acts giving rise to fertile offspring becomes less, the more
diverse are the animals; but no one can assert before
the trial of infinitely numerous experiments that a pro-
creation of fertile offspring is impossible between these
two animals. Thirdly and lastly, this mark is, in fact, in
not a few cases, in contradiction with the established use
of the idea of species, for from animals universally recog-
nised as specifically distinct fertile offspring have been
obtained by crossing, e.g., from horse and ass (in Spain),
from sheep and goat, from goldfinch and siskin, from
Mathiola maderensis and incana, from Calceolaria planta-
ginea and integrifolia, and many more ; nay, even volun-
tary crossings, without the intervention of man, have been
found to take place between wild or half-wild animals
(between dog and she-wolf, fox and bitch, Steinboc and goat,
dog and jackal, &c.); and there are numerous mongrel
breeds which yield fertile offspring indefinitely, e.g., hybrids
of hare and rabbit, of wolf and dog, goat and sheep, camel
and dromedary, lama and alpaca, vicuna and alpaca,
steinboc and goat, &c. On the other hand, the state of
the case varies much with races. Some can, others will
not at all intermingle ; with others, again, fertility is
actually very much limited in the course of generations.
As little as the fertility of hybrids for species in general,
so little can the incapability of yielding persistent hybrid
races with other species be regarded as an absolute mark
of fixity of species (in contrast to fluent). This con-
trast, too, is only to be limited quantitatively; for, in
the first place, the question always is with which other
3IO PHILOSOPHY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS.
species the hybridism is attempted; and, secondly, even
in the now most fixed species, sometimes, if very rarely,
surprising reversions to an ancestral form make their
appearance (atavism).
Accordingly if we are compelled to maintain the fluent
and conventional character of the idea of species, if we
must grant that there is in nature only less and greater
differences, but in such abundant gradations that from the
least noticeable individual shade of difference to the extreme
difference between the higher and the lower organisms
there takes place a transition by small stages unnoticeable
by us (comp. Wallace’s “Contributions to Natural Selec-
tion”), then neither in the idea of Species nor in a similar
narrower or wider notion can there exist a compulsion for
the Unconscious, regulating the minimum interval of its
steps in the progressive development of the organisation,
but the Smallest extent of the leaps of heterogeneous gene-
ration will still only have to be sought in the magnitude
of the modifying resistances and the ends pursued by the
Unconscious (e.g., attainment of certain stages of organi-
sation in certain intervals of time). But now, as we know,
not perfect Similarity, but only general resemblance, is found
between parents and children, for the various material
circumstances bring about in generation individual varia-
tions from the ideal normal type, which perfectly to level
would require an altogether useless expenditure of force on
the part of the Unconscious, since these individual varia-
tions usually and in the main are neutralised of themselves
by the inter-mixture of families. Accordingly one has
not to wonder at the unlikeness, but rather at the like-
ness of parents and child; for if the Unconscious should
behave in all generation within the same species in the
same way, and Save itself the labour of a continually
neutralising interposition, the differences between beget-
ters and begotten which would arise through the diversity
of the material circumstances would be still far greater
than experience now shows us. Nevertheless, we see
METAPHYSIC OF THE UNCONSCIOUS. 3II
cases occur in which the Unconscious prefers to send
monsters into the world to endeavouring to overcome
the existing material difficulties.—The remaining indivi-
dual differences are undoubtedly great enough to lead
quickly to an essential alteration of the type, and the
Unconscious need only hinder the neutralising of these
differences by crossing in those cases in which the varia-
tions answer to its progressive plan, either by directly
retaining them or by an external mechanism; thus, again,
a large part of the expenditure of energy is in this manner
saved.
That such origins of species by the summation of indi-
vidual variations have actually occurred, numerous animal
classes in our geological collections prove, when the collec-
tors do not discard the inconvenient intermediate stages,
which will not fit into any artificial division. “Numberless
are the species of ammonites that have been described ;
annually new ones are added to the old, and whole cases
are filled with books on ammonites. If we arrange them
in a series, the differences between any two specimens are
in fact so inconsiderable that everybody must undoubtedly
regard them as individual peculiarities. In a dozen, how-
ever, the small differences amount to something consider-
able, and in two dozen the amount of the differences has
become so large that no resemblance at all can any longer
be observed between the first and the last. Here no
specific difference any longer holds water, as soon as one
has only specimens enough to illustrate the transitions”
(Fraas, “Vor der Sündfluth,” p. 269). Very much the
same may be said of the Trilobites, and many other classes.
One other quotation concerning snails. “At Steinheim
(Würtemberg) there is a hill of tertiary date, which more
than half consists of snow-white shells of Valvata multi-
formis. One end of this snail is extremely turreted, like a
Paludina (twice as high as thick), the other has a quite flat
umbilicus (discoid, its length one-fourth of its thickness).
Even the most cautious savant, who employs all sorts of
3I2 PHILOSOPHY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS.
distinctions for establishing a species, stands puzzled be-
fore the Klosterberg of Steinheim, and must confess that
all the million forms on which his foot treads pass so easily
and imperceptibly into one another, that he can only speak
of one species” (Fraas, p. 30). At the lower part of the hill
lie the flattest, at the upper part the most turreted forms.
In the thousands of years that this hill was in process of
formation the species has in this manner changed. In the
same calcareous sand of Steinheim one may quite dis-
tinctly trace in the Superposed strata the gradual severance
of one stem-form into diverging, subsequently sharply
separated species (comp. Hilgendorf's Communication in
the Monthly Report of the Berl. Acad. of Sc., July 1866).
If, therefore, we may look upon it as established that
the Unconscious will frequently be able to employ for the
production of a new species a sum of accidental indi-
vidual variations, that by no means implies that these are
always offered to the Unconscious in all those directions.
which it intends to adopt ; there always remains the
possibility, that just the most important advance of all
can not be comprehended as accidental variations, but
only as systematically varying formative processes. I think
we must even assume that all the elevations to essentially
higher stages, which presuppose the formation of organs
not previously in existence, cannot be explained by acci-
dental individual variations, although the latter may have
performed the main work in the thorough elaboration of an
eacisting type in all directions.
How can a change simultaneously occurring at different
parts of the body, which exhibits a systematic correlation
in its different parts, be sufficiently understood by acci-
dental variations, e.g., the formation of the udder in the
first marsupial, which must necessarily go hand in hand
with bearing alive if the young are not to perish miserably
after birth, or the correlated change of the male and female
sexual parts if copulation is to remain possible 2 Just as
little can the principle of accidental variation be regarded as
METAPHYSIC OF THE UNCONSCIOUS. 3I 3
sufficient where certain animal forms exhibit peculiarities
of anatomical structure, which, valueless for themselves, have
a significance only as intermediate transitional forms for
more highly developed stages, where accordingly one clearly
sees the existence anticipated for the sake of the future pur-
pose, e.g., the first formation of a cartilaginous spinal cord
in those primitive fish-forms, which by their exo-skeleton
possessed perfect solidity like the Crustacea, whence they
are derived, so that the primitive endo-skeleton had an
importance not for themselves, but only for their later
descendants, which converted the shell - cuirass into
a Scaly coat; or, e.g., the brain of the lowest savages
and primitive men, which is five-sixths as large as the
brain of the most advanced races, whilst for the func-
tions it subserves the brain of the anthropoid apes would
quite well suffice, that only amounts to one-third of that
of civilised man. Even Wallace literally says: “Natural
selection could endow the savage only with a brain
which surpasses slightly that of the ape, whilst he actually
possesses one which stands a little below that of a philo-
sopher.” This circumstance, combined with the fact that
hair is absent from the back of man; that hand and foot
seem needlessly perfect organs for the savage, and that the
human vocal Organs, especially the soft palate, contain
such wonderful, and, for the Savage, useless latent capabili-
ties, which only find application with higher civilisation,
—all these circumstances cause Wallace to draw the
conclusion “that a superior intelligence guided the de-
velopment of man in a particular direction and to a
definite end, precisely as man guides the evolution of
many animal and vegetable forms.”
The Darwinian theory has the merit of having pointed
to the summation of individual variations in a particular
direction, and the change of a type thereby rendered pos-
sible into that of another species, and of having proved the
same by copious examples. It is very pardonable for a new
and meritorious view when it ea aggerates its range and
3I4. PHILOSOPHY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS.
thinks to explain everything, when in reality it explains
only some, perhaps even most facts, and the more interest-
ing is the above testimony of Darwin's rival Wallace,
which openly confesses the insufficiency of this theory
for the explanation of the origin of Man.—
Let us now consider what expedients the Unconscious
employs in the cases to which its sole remaining task is
limited—to retain the accidentally arisen individual varia-
tions, and to prevent their normal neutralisation and obli-
teration by crossing.
The sole expedient already familiar to us is the instinct
of individual selection in the gratification of the sexual
impulse. In Chap. v. B. we saw how beauty is increased
and enhanced in the animal kingdom by this means; in
Chap. ii. B. we perceived the value of the same for the im-
provement of the human race in every respect, and cast
a side glance at the possibility of similar processes in the
higher classes of the animal kingdom. If this aid is almost
without significance in the lower classes of animals, it in-
creases in importance with the progress of development,
acts, however, certainly always more for the fia;ing and
improvement of a species in itself than for the passage into
another. Frequently, in place of the active selection of the
male, occurs a passive selection of the female, in that the
inflamed males, animated by a special fighting instinct,
contend for the possession of the female, when of course
the most powerful and most active carry off the victory.
Much more thoroughly operates for the change of a
species another circumstance, the which to have made
good is the most signal merit of the Darwinian theory—
natural selection in the Struggle for eacistence.
Every plant, every animal, has in two respects to carry
on a struggle for existence: first, negatively to defend
itself against the enemies threatening to destroy it, as, e.g.,
the elements, and the robbers and parasites, who would
prey upon it; and, secondly, positively to compete in ac-
quiring or retaining what is necessary for the continuance
METAPHYSIC OF THE UNCONSCIOUS. 3I 5
of life, as food, air, light, soil, &c. The fleetest animals, those
which know best how to conceal themselves, or least attract
notice by their colour and form, will most easily be able to
elude the persecutions of their enemies. Of animals and
plants, those will least fall a sacrifice to the injuries of the
weather, storm, frost, heat, wet, dryness, &c., which are
most capable of resistance to these circumstances by their
external or internal organisation. Of beasts of prey, only
the most active, quickest, most powerful and craftiest will
be able to escape hunger when there is dearth of food;
of plants, those which maintain themselves most vigor-
ously under like circumstances will become more luxu-
riant in growth than others, and, as regards the enjoyment
of light, air, and rain, will attain so decided an advantage
as to stifle those lagging behind. We see this struggle for
existence most frequently entered upon between different
species, and end with the perfect annihilation of one, e.g.,
the domestic rat by the migratory rat. Less noticed but
far more general is that among different individuals of
the same species. The latter naturally causes an improve-
ment of the species, for it is in all cases the feeblest indi-
viduals which are excluded by premature annihilation from
the office of propagation, which is accordingly exercised
by the cleverest and most powerful individuals for the
longest period. Besides improvement, however, such a
variation of the species can also take place that varieties
and races, and finally new species, arise. This case
can of course only occur if the external relations of life
become different ; then will natural selection favour in
reproduction those individual characters which especially
in the new circumstances show special vital force. The
consequence will thus always be an accommodation to the
external conditions of life. As now the Unconscious like-
wise wills this accommodation, so has it only to leave natural
selection in the struggle for existence perfectly unchecked
in order to see this end attained without trouble, without
any special interposition. ;
316 PHILOSOPHY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS.
Such changes of the outward conditions of life may
take place in very different ways. In the first place, the
plant or the animal may seek the same by wandering, and
thus by local separation or formation of colonies protect
the variety about to be formed from the threatened rever-
Sion to the ancient stock; secondly, their own homes
may be sought out by strange plants and species of
animals on their wanderings, and they may be compelled
to test and strengthen their powers in contest with these ;
in the third place, by elevations or depressions the
situation of the ground and height above the sea may
be altered, mountains may become a table-land, plains
mountain-ridges, sea-bottoms plains, coasts continents,
severed lands be united, united lands be separated, &c.;
in the fourth place, changes of climate, even apart from
the already mentioned causes, may occur; and finally, in
the fifth place, changes in the vegetable kingdom are
altered conditions of life for the animal kingdom, and con-
versely. These relations offer a rich variety, and in most
geographical districts such changes in the course of the
geological development of the earth's surface have not
taken place once but innumerable times. -
If a plant migrates to a more uniformly moist Soil, its
leaves generally become less divided, more glabrous and
grass-green, the flowers Smaller and darker. Conversely,
if a plant settles on a more porous and dry soil, its leaves
become bluer, more procumbent, more divided or separated
into fibres, the flowers larger and brighter, and it is
enveloped in a thick hairy covering. Thus on a dry
calcareous soil Hutchinsia brevicaulis passes into H. alpina,
Arabis coºrulea into bellidifolia, Alchemilla fissa into vul-
garis, Betula pubescens into alba, on a damp soil devoid
of lime Dianthus alpinus is transformed into deltoides
(according to A. Kerner in the Austr. Bot. Journal). In
the animal kingdom, where the altered outward circum-
stances do not lie so close together as the different soils
for the plant, owing to the present average constancy of the
METAPHYSIC OF THE UNCONSCIOUS. 317
geographical and climatic relations, specific variation by
natural selection has not yet been observed, but certainly
formation of strongly marked varieties, especially under
the unintentional influence of man, e.g., origination of very
different races of domestic animals (dogs, cattle, sheep,
horses); and bearing in mind the above-mentioned facility
of the transition from the race to the variety, it may
justly be assumed that in former times, when not seldom
a more rapid transformation of the external circumstances
may have occurred than the human race has historically
recorded, that in these earlier times many formations of
new species may havé come about by natural selection in
the struggle for existence.—In opposition to this it is
maintained that then the infinitely many intermediate
forms through which one species passes into the other
must be capable of demonstration in the strata, whilst
yet the fossil species for the most part are just as sharply,
and still more sharply, distinguishable from one another
than the living. This proves nothing at all; for it lies in
the nature of the case that that form must be the final
form which is more capable of life than all the preceding
phases, which therefore conquers, i.e., eradicates, all these
in the struggle for existence; but if they are soon thrust
on one side by the final form, they have only had a brief
existence as compared with the final form, which now, as
the best adapted to the circumstances, persists at least
as long as these circumstances; acordingly one can-
not wonder if hitherto so few transitional forms have
been found between different species. That none of
these have ever been found is not true; on the con-
trary, both among higher, and quite specially among
lower animals, an astonishing number of transitional
forms are found.
In addition to the examples mentioned above (pp. 304–
307) the following may be instanced. Passing from the
radiate to the bilateral type, we are acquainted with two
series. (I) Star-fish, sea-urchins, holothuriae; in the latter,
318 PHILOSOPHY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS.
what was upper and under has become back and front, .
and as by the arrangement of the so-called ambulacra a
new upper and under side has been formed, at the same
time a right and left side has arisen. (2) Corals, Rugosa,
Slipper-shells; in the palaeozoic Rugosa, the dividing walls
of the calcareous shell answering to the septa of the
bodily cavity are no longer arranged regularly as in the
other corals, but at least in the interposed after-growth
always at the side of a primary dividing-wall, so that in
respect of the latter a bilateral type arises. When the
Rugosa develop an operculum in addition, there arises
the slipper-shell, hitherto reckoned to the Conchifera.
As the Australian and New Zealand fauna is in general
to be regarded as an arrested representative of an older
geological period, it has recently furnished us in the
New Zealand bridge-lizard with an animal which, in
certain characters (biconcave vertebral axis after the
fashion of the Saurians, sexual apparatus without male
organ), has remained at the stage of the fish-Salamanders,
but in other respects has developed into the external
form of a lizard, which, in a remarkable manner, unites
the normal characters of the tortoises (absence of teeth),
crocodiles (immobility of the four legs), and Snakes (mov-
able rami of the lower jaw united by a ligament, and
participation of the ribs in locomotion).
Huxley traces back the pedigree of the horse of the
modern period step by step through the horses of older
times, through Hipparion and Hipparitherium to Plagio-
lophus, which latter is already a species of the genus
Palaeotherium (the common ancestor of the hoof-horses
and pachyderms), and in a similar manner the musk ani-
mals of the present day through the Cainotherium of the
Miocene to Dichobune from the Eocene as primitive form.
Gaudry has found in the Miocene strata of Pikermi
in Greece “the group of the Limocyonidae, which is inter-
mediate between bears and wolves; the genus Hyaenictis,
which unites the hyenas with the civet cats; the
METAPHYSIC OF THE UNCONSCIOUS. 3I9
Ancylotherium, which is related both to the extinct masto-
don and to the living pangolin or scaly ant-eater, and the
Helladotherium, which unites the now isolated giraffe with
the stag and the antelope” (Wallace).-A rich world of forms
reveals itself to us in the contemplation of the genus Croco-
dile. The crocodiles of the cretaceous period are different
from those of the older tertiary period, and these again are
just as different from the crocodiles of the younger tertiary
strata as from those of the present day. Nevertheless, the
differences between one form of the series and another are
so slight that they are only discernible by the eye of the
connoisseur.—Reptiles and birds seem to be two of the
most widely separated orders, and yet the Soolenhofen slates
have, on the one hand, yielded a bird (Archaeopterya)
which by its elongated form, unfused bones between
the hands, and strong claws on the wing-fingers, far more
closely approaches the reptiles than the Ostrich-like birds
of the present day; and, on the other hand, laid bare a
reptile (Compsognathus longipes), that not only (as probably
most Dinosauria did) went exclusively on its hind-legs, but
also in the parts found is remarkably similar to the
Archaeopteryx. The footprints of reptiles and birds of
that time, interconnected through all conceivable shades,
lead us to expect that we shall yet find more remains of
intermediate forms, which will bridge over the hitherto
existing differences. - -
When one considers that almost every year brings to
light new and Surprising intermediate forms, and that
already the old Zoological classification has become abso-
lutely untenable, the appeal of the opponents of Darwin
to the want of intermediate forms may, in fact, be
looked upon as a lost battle. One may at length regard
it as an established fact that, if one traces backwards
the pedigree of the now living kinds, not the species, but
the genera have their corresponding representatives in
former geological periods, and that these representatives
of different genera and orders are distinguished in still
32O PHILOSOPHY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS,
f
remoter epochs only as now different species of a genus.
or order. Thus Owen in his “Palaeontology” assures
us “that he never let slip a good opportunity of com-
municating the results of observations, which prove the
more generalised structures of extinct animals, compared
with the specialised forms of more recent animals.”
(Comp., as supplement to this and the last chapter,
Ernest Häckel's excellent popular work, “The Natural
History of Creation.”)
As the transition from water to land animals, So also
that from water to land plants takes place through
amphibious organisms. The anatomical structure of a
stalk and leaf living in water must, to be capable of life,
be at least as different from one living in the air as
gills from lungs. Thus Utricularia vulgaris consists of
two different organisms as it were, one of which is repre-
sented by the part of a plant living under water, the other
by the branches bearing the blossoms rising into the air.
In each of the three great divisions of the vegetable king-
dom (Cryptogams, Monocotyledons, Dicotyledons) there are
atmospheric plants (e.g., Marsilia, Sagittaria, Polygonum)
which prove their origin from aquatic plants by the cir-
cumstance that when one puts them under water their
young shoots send forth stalks and leaves with the ana-
tomical structure of aquatic plants, which more aérial
plants, that have, as it were, forgotten their more remote
ancestors, do not do. - - s
Although we have thus recognised natural selection in
the struggle for existence as an important contributory to
the Origin of new species, yet I can by no means grant that
with this principle the history of the origin of the organic
world is at all exhausted. Not because this hypothesis
would not be quite compatible with our presumptions
concerning the essence of the Unconscious, for if this at
all facilitated matters, it would be quite natural for it to
concern itself only with the individual, and leave the
progress of Species to go on quite mechanically by itself,
METAPHYSIC OF THE UNCONSCIO US. 32 I
but only, because the facts to be explained are far more
numerous than the range of the principle of explanation,
can I not deem the same sufficient.
In the present general interest in the Darwinian theory
and the frequent over-estimate of its reach, it may reward
us to spend a few moments in considering to what ex-
tent it appears to be insufficient (comp. also vol. i. pp.
287–289). -
If we assume that by the struggle for existence alone
organisation has developed from the primitive original cell
to its present pitch, that thus every more highly developed
species has only proceeded from the proximate lower one
owing to its having possessed a higher degree of vitality,
the consequence necessarily follows that every higher species
on its own ground surpasses every lower species in vitality,
and surpasses it indeed in a so much higher degree, the
greater the interval of their stages of organisation, since
indeed with every new advance in development a new ac-
cession of vitality results, and these increments mount up.
This direct consequence is now, however, in complete con-
tradiction with the facts of the case, which yield the result
that every Stage of organisation, taken as a whole, possesses
the same vitality, and that only within the same stage of
organisation the different species or varieties are distinguished
by a greater or less vitality; which harmonises also with
the circumstance that the struggle for existence in the com-
petition for the conditions of life occurs the more frequently,
is the more embittered, and the more certainly terminates
in the complete annihilation of the one side, the more re-
lated are the competing species or varieties, whilst the
species dwell beside one another the more peacefully, and
Tender more assistance in the preservation of life, the
farther they stand from one another in the pedigree of
organisation. In every locality, if we disregard the dif-
ference of land and Sea, all the stages of organisation are
found represented, and all thrive excellently well beside
one another; whereas, according to the Darwinian theory,
WOL. II. - X
322 PHILOSOPHY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS.
taken strictly, at every locality at least only one species, and
that the highest, must remain, because this surpasses all
others in capacity of living under those circumstances.
That is, however, just what is remarkable and grand in
Nature, that every final type of a class is so perfect in
itself, that one may indeed go beyond it, yet only by
adding new anatomical-morphological structural details,
but not by enhancement of the physiological functions or
of its accommodation to the conditions of life, for both
are finished. Had not really all stages of organisation,
on the average the same vitality, in the struggle for exist-
ence waged for millions of years all lower species must
have long ago been completely superseded by the higher
ones, whereas the fossil relics show that, under the most
diverse circumstances, there have been relatively few
classes of animals and plants which at the present time
have not their perfectly life-capable representatives.
The capacity of accommodation of a class, and even of
a species, within its own limits, is, in general, far greater
than one thinks. This follows partly from the continued
existence of not a few species from their origin to the
present time, where, in truth, the environment has suffi-
ciently changed, partly from the great circles of distribution
of the classes and species of the present day. Several
classes people the whole earth or all seas; many species
have a distribution over twenty to thirty degrees of
latitude. Lastly, it is proved by the capacity of acclima-
tisation of species, which often borders on the miraculous,
if the instances only range over sufficient periods of time.
Thus the common peach-tree, which is probably an Indian
plant, would not thrive in Greece in the time of Aris-
totle, whereas we get good peaches at the present day in
North Germany. Accordingly, the capacity of accommo-
dation of species within their specific limits, partly by
internal physiological changes that are withdrawn from
observation, partly by the formation of varieties, is so great,
that they are quite well able to adapt themselves to a
METAPHYSIC OF THE UNCONSCIOUS. 323
very considerable alteration of the climate, &c., without
degenerating. Extremely numerous are the examples in
which closely related species dwell beside one another in
a locality without noticeable change of their relative num-
ber, and yet the struggle for existence is most violent
precisely within the specific limits between varieties and
still slighter differences. Should, however, this struggle
occur or be absent in a particular case, yet in no one of
the cases here considered will a transgression of the limits
of the species show itself. Lastly, there will not easily
happen so great a change of external circumstances, nor
a species pass under such different circumstances, that the
capacity for accommodation and acclimatisation within the
limits of the species recognised by us as so considerable
would not suffice for these claims. But if subsequently
a second change of the conditions essential to life occurs
at the same place, it will mostly be a return to the formerly
existing circumstances; then the species will simply adapt
itself to this change by repeating the former stages in a
reverse direction (as is observable in the before-men-
tioned experiments with transplantation of plants to
different descriptions of soil), and there is again no occa-
sion for the passage into a new or a more remote species.
If, on the other hand, the second change of the con-
ditions essential to life is in the same direction, the
species will more easily become extinct at this place (e.g.,
the fauna of the European glacial epoch), than pass into
a new species, which is more remote from its stock than
its previously attained standpoint. -
How could the commencement of a new path of develop-
ment, after an exhaustive working through of the last
attained stage of organisation, and perhaps a pause of
thousands of years, be intelligible from the struggle for
existence 2 We have seen that it is precisely the more
imperfect forms of the preceding stage from which proceeds
the development of the higher stage. Apart from the
already mentioned circumstance that these more imper-
324 PHILOSOPHY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS.
fect forms of all the species of the lower stage remain
longest unchanged, thus, according to Darwin's view, must
be the most stable and the least capable of an individual
variation and further advance; apart also from this, that,
if only the struggle for existence had created the later
forms of the lower stage, these primitive forms must have
all already changed for the same reason and by the same pro-
cess into more developed forms of the same grade, or indeed
must long ago have been annihilated by the more capable
forms in the immeasurable intervals; apart from all this,
one would think that, if from some unknown cause these
primitive forms that have maintained themselves had
actually received an impulse to further development, that
then through the struggle for existence always only a re-
petition of the development lying far nearer to them into
the already existing higher forms of the same stage must
have been called forth, rather than a transition to the
morphologically diverging higher stage, since notoriously
the higher forms of the lower stage show themselves also
under the new circumstances mostly just as capable of life
as the species of the higher stage. This consideration
obtains the more weight the more geology attains to the
knowledge, that the climates and vital conditions of earlier
geological periods (with the exception of the first times
after the cooling of the earth's surface) always far more
closely resembled those of any localities whatsoever of
the present surface than the older geology, dreaming of
catastrophes and vast revolutions, assumed.—Most unin-
telligible on Darwinian presuppositions is the passage from
the unicellular to the multicellular organisms, since it is
just the incredible indifference of the unicellular plants to
their environment, i.e., their capacity of accommodating
themselves even to the most varied circumstances by re-
latively slight modifications, that makes the want of a
motive for the conversion into compound types so very
conspicuous. - g
Lastly, if one asks positively of what kind are the
METAPHYSIC OF THE UNCONSCIOUS. 325
useful adaptations that arise through the struggle for
existence, the answer is: They are exclusively of a physio-
logical nature. Here lies the proper limit of the Darwinian
principle clearly before our eyes; it is sufficient so long
as it has to do with the elaboration and transformation of
an existing organ for a physiological function required by
the circumstances; it leaves us in the lurch when a mor-
phological change is to be explained. That morphological
changes are also possible by the addition of individual
variations is not to be doubted, and Darwin proves it by
many examples, especially by the skeleton of pigeons;
but in all the cited cases an artificial breeding takes place.
A couple of teeth, of vertebræ, or a toe more or less, a
vertebra formed thus or thus, are for the struggle for
existence perfectly indifferent, and yet these are the marks
by which Zoology most Surely distinguishes species; the
struggle for existence, on the contrary, can obviously only
produce a change in such elements of the organism as
have some importance for the same, and will so much
more emergetically work for their transformation the
greater their significance for the struggle for existence.
The struggle for existence brings it about that one and
the same organ (in morphological reference) undertakes
the most diverse physiological functions, whereas in
species, placed under similar vital conditions but of dif-
ferent origin, often the same performance is carried on by
organs morphologically quite different. (Thus, e.g., the
parasitic mites living on animal hairs have an organ for
clinging to the hair, on which they roam; this is, however,
represented in Listrophorus, by the transformed lip, in
Myobia by the more advanced pair of feet, in Mycoptes by
the third, or also at the same time the fourth pair of feet.)
With all these changes, however, the morphological funda-
mental type remains unaltered and untouched.
In the animal kingdom the thorough-going acknowledg-
ment of the assertion that only the physiological but not
the morphological changes are decisive for the degree
326 PHILOSOPHY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS.
of vitality, is encumbered with difficulties, because the
occurrence of sympathetic changes frequently causes mor-
phological changes to go also hand in hand with the physio-
logical change of an organ, often at quite other parts of
the body, which phenomenon, springing from special laws
of organic plastic activity of the Unconscious, is altogether
calculated to confuse the judgment. Our assertion, how-
ever, appears quite clearly justified in the vegetable king-
dom. The competent judgment of Nägeli (“Origin and
Conception of the Species of Natural History,” Munich,
1865, p. 26) on this point runs: “The highest organisation
manifests itself in two moments, in the most varied mor-
phological articulation, and in the most thorough division
of labour. Both moments usually concide in the animal
kingdom, since the male organ also possesses the same
function. In plants, however, they are independent
of one another; the same function can be undertaken
by quite different organs; even in closely allied plants
the same organ can carry on all possible physiological
functions. Now it is remarkable that the useful adapta-
tions which Darwin instances as regards animals, and
which one can discover in quantities for the vegetable
kingdom, are exclusively of a physiological nature; that
they always show the improvement and transformation
of an organ for a particular function. A morphological
modification in the vegetable kingdom which could be ex-
plained by the Darwinian theory is unknown to me, and
I do not even see how it could take place, since the
general processes of formation are 80 indifferent as regards
physiological performances. The Darwinian theory requires
the assumption, confessed by itself, that indifferent cha-
racters should be variable; the useful, on the contrary, com-
stant. The purely morphological peculiarities of plants
must accordingly most easily, the relations of organisation
conditioned by a definite function with the greatest diffi-
culty be capable of alteration. Experience shows the con-
trary. The relative positions and the co-ordination of the
METAPHYSIC OF THE UNCONSCIOUS. 327
cells and organs are both in nature and under cultivation
the most constant and persistent marks. In a plant that
has opposite leaves and quaternary corollas it will be far
easier to produce all possible functional variations in the
leaves than a spiral arrangement of the same, although
these, as altogether indifferent for the struggle of exist-
ence, could have attained no constancy through natural
selection.” Had Darwin borrowed his examples more
from plants than from animals, he would perhaps himself
have perceived the limitation of the action of the struggle
for existence. It is clear that the latter can only alter
the behaviour of organisms to the external conditions of
life, i.e., their functions, and the organs only so far as the
functions are dependent upon them, but that it can have
no influence on those qualities of organisms, whose altera-
tion as regards the relations between the organisms and
the external world brings to the former neither advantage
nor disadvantage. To the latter attributes belong, how-
ever, in plants, and even in animals, most of the funda-
mental principles of the morphological type, e.g., the nume-
vical proportions selected for the same.
We have here found a confirmation of our preceding
assertion, that natural selection in the struggle for
existence is an extremely valuable aid for the exhaus-
tive elaboration of an existing type within the same
organisation, but cannot serve for the explanation of the
passage from a lower to a higher stage of organisation,
since a raising of the morphological type is always con-
nected with such. In his most recent researches (Botan.
Mittheilungen, 1868) on the behaviour of individuals of
one and the same species of plants, on the one hand
under the same, on the other hand under different ex-
ternal circumstances, Nägeli comes to the conclusion
that the formation of unlike varieties occurs just as
much under like, as the formation of like varieties
under unlike circumstances; whence we may conclude
as follows:—(1.) The external circumstances do not suffice
328 PHILOSOPHY OF THE UNCONSCIO US.
as sole cause of the formation of varieties, but pre-
suppose as second favourable condition a quality in-
herent in the plant, a “tendency to vary” (and that,
too, in definite directions). (2.) But without a doubt this
inner quality of the plant can by itself suffice to introduce,
even under Similar external circumstances, a formation
of different varieties. . This confirms our preceding as-
Sumptions. Among Zoologists, quite recently Kölliker
has declared for the hypothesis of Nägeli, that the
transformation of existing organisms by the accidental
change of external circumstances yields in importance
and range to the tendency inherent in the organic world
of development from internal causes according to pre-
ordained laws, no matter by what name this creative
principle, this productive activity is called ; in this
sense he desires his former announcement of “hetero-
geneous generation” (comp. above, p. 3OI) to be inter-
preted."
Before quitting the subject, a special expedient may
be mentioned, the actual use of which indeed has not
hitherto been proved, whose possible application is, how-
ever, so interesting, that I will not withhold from the
reader a short indication of the same.—Until fifteen
years ago, it passed as a scientific axiom that, of all
animals that undergo a metamorphosis, only the most
perfect state is transmissible. Now, however, we already
know three exceptions. The young of Leptodera appen-
diculata, a parastic tape-worm living in the foot of the
common slug, represent the larva form of their parents;
with abundant food and moisture they do not, however,
undergo the chrysalis change, but propagate among one
another any number of times without diminution of
fertility. A second example is that of Cecidomyia,
* Morphologie und Entwicke- and 30 ff. The whole general in-
lungsgeschichte des Pennatuliden- troduction to this memoir is a very
stammes nebst allgemeinen Be- interesting contribution to the theory
trachtungen zur Descendenzlehre, of Descent and to the criticism of
von A. Kölliker. Frankfurt a the theory of matural selection.
M. bei Winter, 1872, pp. 26–27,
METAPHYSIC OF THE UN CONSCIOUS. 329
already mentioned in the last chapter (p. 281). A third,
the Mexican Axolotl, whose identity with the likewise
long-known Amblystoma was established through the
circumstance, that in aquaria the metamorphosis of the
Axolotl into Amblystoma was directly observed in
certain cases. The larva form of this animal has ex-
ternal gills like the Proteus, which undergoes no meta-
morphosis, whereas the perfect form is without gills.
Now here manifestly the larva form is the older and
original, and one must assume that, under favourable
circumstances, one of these Salamander-like animals un-
derwent a metamorphosis for the first time, a change
which was facilitated in its descendants by inheritance.
The Axolotl now has not attained the next stage of
development, where the metamorphosis, as in most
Amphibia, is a regular phase of the life-history. As,
however, the progress from the fish-Salamanders to the
higher Amphibia takes place by the capacity for meta-
morphosis becoming by transmission normal, one may
imagine the further progress from the Amphibia to the
reptiles brought about by this, that under favourable
circumstances an Amphibian acquires the power of
bringing forth young in the final form, or, in other words,
of transferring the metamorphosis to the embryonic life.
The preceding reflections on metamorphosis may be ex-
tended to the alternation of generations (comp. Häckel),
but hitherto data are too much wanting for the attainment
of certain results on this subject.—
If we briefly epitomise the conclusions of this chapter,
there results from the principle of always attaining the
proposed end with the least possible expenditure of energy
the following:— tº
(1) The Unconscious in the production of higher
phases of organisation foregoes spontaneous generation,
and prefers to employ already existing forms of organ-
isation.
(2) It does not directly transform the lower form into
33O PHILOSOPHY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS.
the higher, but shapes the latter from a favourably con-
stituted germ of the lower kind.
(3.) It takes as Small steps as possible, and forms the
larger differences by adding together a number of small
individual differences.
(4.) It makes use of the individual variations casually
arising in generation, so far as such are present, in those
directions which answer to its own end.
(5.) For maintaining the variations arising, no matter
how, it makes use of natural selection in the struggle for
existence, so far as they are of greater service to the
organism.
(6.) The Unconscious must (apart from its continuous
interposition in every organic formation, thus also in all
generation) display a direct activity in the progressive
development of the organisation : on the one hand, in
order with new germs to call forth the variations that do
not accidentally arise; and, on the other hand, to preserve
from being again obliterated by crossing the variations
that have arisen, which belong to its plan, but do not
aid the competition of the organism in the Struggle for
easistence.—
Lastº, it may be remarked that, for the same reason
that no spontaneous generation takes place after sexual
reproduction has been rendered possible, the development
of a new species from a lower one only takes place if the
species does not yet, or at least not at this locality, exist.
The development of a new species would thus have to be
conceived as a process occurring only once, or at least only
a few times, at different localities, under similar circum-
stances, which is empirically confirmed by the favourable
results of the most recent investigations concerning the
places of origin or centres of diffusion of the species of
plants and animals; whilst, on the other hand, after
a new species has once arisen, the similar, or but
slightly modified reproduction of the same, is the normal
and ever-repeated process, till the possible destruction of
METAPHYSIC OF THE UNCONSCIOUS. 33 I
the species. (According to Darwin, the process of forma-
tion of certain higher species, from their lower primitive 8,
forms must be repeated as long or as often as the ex-
ternal conditions which called it forth the first time
last or occur afresh ; but this requirement can hardly be
brought into harmony with the facts of experience, since
it must have recourse for the purpose to the further im-
probable single appearance of shortly enduring and never
recurring circumstances.) However long, then, one may
imagine the process of developing a new species to take
(hundreds or thousands of years), it will still be an
&nconsiderably small part of the space of the essentially
Similar continuation of the formed species (some hundreds
of thousands to ten millions of years).
This is a second reason, in addition to those already
mentioned above, why so many more similar fossil speci-
mens with distinct specific characters are found than those,
which exhibit the transitional stages between closely allied
species.
( 332 )
XI.
INDIVID UATION.
I. Possibility and Manner of Effecting Individuation.—
If the Essential Being that manifests itself in the world
is sole and indivisible, whence comes the plurality of
appearing individuals 2 whence the singularity of each of
the same 2 what is its object 2 how is it possible % -
The answer to these questions has always been a car-
dinal difficulty for every explicitly monistic philosophy.
It was, in particular, the rejection or insufficient answering
of the same that always paved the way to the relapse
of Monism into a realistic polyism or pluralism (e.g.,
Leibnitz after Spinoza, Herbart after Schelling and Hegel,
Bahnsen after Schopenhauer). Spinoza ignores the above
questions as much as the ancients; he dogmatically
declares individuals to be modi of the One substance, but
the development of the modus from substance, or the
demonstration why each modus is distinguished from
another and forms a unique existence, he altogether fails
to supply. Subjective idealism (Kant, Fichte, Schopen-
hauer) imagines it has done enough when it declares
plurality in the world to be subjective appearance, arising
through the forms of subjective intuition—space and time
—unconcerned that, in the first place, the difficulty is
only transferred from the objective to the subjective
sphere, but remains just as unsolved here as it was there;
and that, secondly, the question remains unanswered how
this unique percipient individual, which discriminates
itself from every similar individual, is possible according
METAPHYSIC OF THE UNCONSCIOUS. 333
to monistic principles, since either, if it is conceived as one
among many, the incomprehensible real plurality is again
inconsistently introduced, or however in the other case, on
the hypothesis of Solipism, again the limitation of this whole
and sole perceiving subject remains incomprehensible.
The latter side of the question was certainly seen by
Schelling (Werke, i. 3, p. 683): “But now the problem is
just this, How from an action of the absolute Ego the
absolute Intelligence, and how again from an action of
the absolute Intelligence the whole system of limitation,
which constitutes every individuality, may be explained.”
The answer follows on the next page: “If now the in-
telligence remained one with the absolute synthesis, there
would indeed be a universe, but there would be no in-
telligence. If there is to be, an intelligence, it must
emerge from that synthesis in order to produce it again
with consciousness ; but this again is impossible without
the addition of a special or second to that first limitation,
which now no longer can consist in this, that the intelli-
gence in general perceives a universe, but that it perceives
the universe precisely from this fixed point.” -
I confess that I should envy that man who was able to
pick out the truth from this passage and its connections, if
he did not already possess it. n
As for the Hegelian system, our question unmasks one
of its weakest points. According to Hegel, the concept is
the sole substance; it is nothing but the concept, and the
process of Nature is an objective notional dialectic. On
the other side, he himself confesses that the Notion just
as little as the word is able to grasp the simple This in
its singleness—this individual, which as such one can only
show, but not describe. Individual singleness stands
outside the range of the concept, and there with outside
that of the Hegelian system, if this will be consistent
with itself. Plurality as real phenomenon cannot explain
the same, for one can see no reason why, on the dis-
mission of the absolute Idea into Nature, every phase of
334 PHILOSOPHY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS.
development of the logical process should have more than
a corresponding phase of development of the process of
Nature. The dialectical self-splitting of the one into
the many yields indeed plurality as pure concept, but not
plurality as accident of real phenomena; for Hegel would
never have maintained the self-disintegration of a half-
crown into many half-crowns or sixpences, and as little as
in this real instance would the self-division of the one be
applicable to a self-splitting of a world-soul into many
real individuals. Real plurality is more than the idea
of plurality; it is a sum of individuals, none of which
resembles the others, each of which is a This, nameless,
sole (as I am nameless, sole), each of which is attainable
by no conception, but only by perception.
Whoever has not felt the need and the difficulty of
comprehending individuation from the point of view of
Monism may securely pass over the first half of this
chapter; he would find no interest in it. For him, on the
other hand, who hitherto has kept aloof from Monism
precisely on account of this more or less distinctly con-
scious difficulty, and has put up with the pluralism of
the real phenomenal world as an ultimate, for him lies
in this chapter, taken in conjunction with Chap. vii. C.,
the centre of gravity of the present book. In fact, plu-
ralism and individualism have a warrant which cannot
be under-estimated with impunity; as every improperly
neglected moment always revenges itself by a reaction
exceeding a justifiable limit. With Fichte the conscious
individual still occupies the foreground, but its significance
is not that of a characteristic Sui generis, but that of the
type of a limited absolute intelligence, which is revealed
still more distinctly in Schelling; whilst with Hegel even
this type is volatilised into the abstract category of the
subjective spirit. As concerns the other side of indivi-
duality as separate natural existence, with Fichte there
is no mention of it at all, since Nature is to him only
subjective illusion; with Schelling and Hegel, however,
METAPHYSIC OF THE UNCONSCIOUS. 335
there is plenty of reflection and speculation about abstract
natural potencies and their dialectical play, but the signi-
ficance and the right of the natural individual as such is
perfectly ignored, when it is not expressly denied. In
the reaction against this one-sidedness of abstract idealism
and in the re-erecting of the standard of a realism recog-
nising the plurality of things-in-themselves lies the his–
torical authorisation of the Herbartian pluralism; its truth
lies in the assertion that the right of plurality and indivi-
duality reaches just as far as reality of existence in general ;
its untruth lies in failing to perceive the phenomenality
of all reality and all easistence. Subjective idealism had
had the right inkling that reality is only phenomenality,
but it had distorted and disfigured this thought by re-
cognising no other than subjective phenomenality, so that
plurality sank to only subjective illusion. When, however,
one has perceived the existing to be objective appearance
or manifestation of the Super-existent (i.e., independent
of the apprehending conscious subject), or existence of
the subsisting, then are reality and (objective) pheno-
menality perceived to be identical notions; then one, how-
ever, also knows that the plurality, whose right reaches as
far as the reality of the existing world, has just as this
only a phenomenal, not transcendent-metaphysical validity.
Schopenhauer obviously steers towards this standpoint,
but his adhesion to subjective idealism prevents him from
clearing up his notion of the individual objectification of
the Will and developing it into that of objective phenomen-
ality; and the want of this latter notion leads him again,
in contradiction with his own principles, to allow plurality
and individuality to reach also into the transcendent-meta-
physical (intelligible individual character and individual
negation of the will). From this point it was possible for
Bahnsen to set up a system of ethological individualism or
metaphysical will-pluralism and to reject Schopenhauer's
Monism, because he saw through the contradictions of
Schopenhauer's system, and yet did not see how otherwise
336 PHILOSOPHY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS.
to save the right of individuality. The notion of objec-
tive phenomenality introduced by Schelling and Hegel
into philosophy, and emphasised especially by Frauenstädt
amongst the adherents of Schopenhauer, explains, how-
ever, everything that has to be explained in a more satis-
factory and less one-sided fashion. Whilst I defend and
uphold the uniqueness of the individual and its right
within the real world as against abstract Idealism and
Monism as energetically as Herbart, I just as decidedly
dispute every claim of the individual to a transcend-
ent-metaphysical validity extending beyond the world of
objective appearance as unfounded, unwarranted, and pre-
Sumptuous, and deem even that Pluralism which flatly
denies all transcendent-metaphysic behind the real world
to be more endurable and philosophical than that which
inflates the individual to an eternal transcendent essen-
tiality or substance; for the former merely foregoes all
metaphysic in favour of physics, but the latter has a false
metaphysic, and that is far worse. As certainly, however,
as the former Pluralism satisfies all the justifiable claims
of individuality, so certainly does the philosophy of the
Unconscious also do this, which accords to the individual
precisely the same authority as that unmetaphysical Plural-
ism, only that it adds to this theory of the real world and
its plurality a metaphysic (and indeed, what is here in-
different, monistic metaphysic). The philosophy of the
Unconscious is thus the genuine reconciliation of monism
and pluralistic individualism, in that it recognises each of
the two aspects as authorised, assigns each the sphere
appertaining to it (metaphysical or physical-real), and
wnites both in itself as Sublated moments—
IFrom the previous results of the foregoing chapters the
solution of the question placed at the head of this chapter
follows without difficulty. We will, however, leave the
question, Why is there individuation ? for the present
undiscussed, and consider only the other, How is it possible
on monistic principles 3
METAPHYSIC OF THE UNCONSCIOUS. 337
Stated in general terms the answer runs: “Individuals
are objectively posited phenomena, i.e., they are willed
thoughts of the Unconscious or particular will-acts of the
same; the unity of the essence remains unaffected by the
plurality of individuals, which are only activities (or com-
binations of certain activities) of the one Essential Being.”
But to render this very general answer plausible, we must
enter into details, and once more picture to ourselves by
what combination of what activities an individual arises,
and how far each individual must necessarily be different
from every other, or unique.
The individuals of higher order arise, as we saw (C.
Chap. vi.), by composition from individuals of lower order,
with the addition of new activities of the Unconscious
directed upon the resulting compound; one must there-
fore begin with understanding individuation in the indi-
viduals of lowest order, i.e., the atoms. Here, accord-
ing to the present state of the scientific hypotheses, only
two different kinds of individuals, repulsive and attractive
forces, are to be distinguished; within each of these groups
there obtains perfect resemblance between the individuals,
with the sole exception of their place.
Only because the atomic forces A and B act differently
on the same atoms are they different, and because the
lines of action of A and the lines of action of B have dis-
tinct foci, this difference is shortly expressed as A and B
occupy different places, whilst in strictness force occu-
pies no place at all, but only its effects are locally dis-
criminated. But if one imagined two equal atoms united
in a mathematical point, they would not only cease to be
distinguishable, but even to be different, for they would
cease to be two forces, and would be one force with double
the strength.
Here then the application of the answer given above in
general terms is in itself clear and intelligible: the Un-
conscious has at the same time different will-acts, which
are distinguished by their content so far as the space
WOL. II. Y
338 PHILOSOPHY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS.
relations of their effects are differently represented. But
when the will realises its content, these many will-acts
enter into objective reality as so many force-individuals;
they are the first primitive manifestation of Essential
Being. Since every effect of atomic force is represented
by the Unconscious as different from every other, thus
single, its realisation is of course different from that of
every other atomic force, thus likewise single, without
prejudice to the circumstance that it is in its nature
indistinguishable; the intuitive imagination of the Uncon-
scious distinguishes it, however, without thought in its
space relations, as well as one recognises by perception
the right glove as right, which no notion and no combina-
tion of concepts is ever able to do.
Here we may also remember what was said (C. Chap. i.
3 and 4) on the way in which the Unconscious forms
representations. The concept is a result of a process of
separation or abstraction, but the Unconscious always
apprehends the totality of its matter of representation
without condescending to a separation of parts within the
same. The concept is a product of discursive thought, a
sorry make-shift due to its weakness; but the Unconscious
thinks not discursively but intuitively; it thinks concepts
only so far as they are contained in intuition as integral
and undifferentiated elements, consequently it cannot be
surprising if among the intuitions of the Unconscious
there are such from which, even for discursive thinking,
no concepts can be abstracted; as, e.g., the perception that
the actions of the atomic force A must be so directed that
their lines of direction should intersect in this point here,
those of the atom B, in that point there. Consequently,
in the case of atoms, the difference and singleness of the
individuals is, in fact, reduced in the most direct manner
to the difference and singleness of the ideas which form
the content of the acts of will of which the individuals
consist, in such wise that to each individual there corre-
sponds a single act of Will.
METAPHYSIC OF THE UNCONSCIOUS. 339
Unfortunately Matter has never been comprehended as
a combination of will-acts of the Unconscious, so that the
sole example where the comprehension of individuation is
really simple was not available. In all other cases, how-
ever, where we have to do with individuals of higher order,
the comprehension of individuation is rendered difficult
by a complicated combination of will-acts, changing every
moment, forming the individual.
If we dwell a moment more upon the atomic forces of
matter, and inquire respecting the medium whereby indi-
viduation in this sphere becomes possible, respecting the
so-called “principium individuationis,” undoubtedly the
combination of space and time can alone be so character-
ised; for we saw that the atomic forces A and B, equal in
thought, are only distinguished by the different space rela-
tions of their effects, improperly and briefly expressed
by their places, and only omitted at the time to add to
“ their effects:” “at the same point of time.” This adden-
dum is, however, necessary, for completeness' sake, because
indeed with the time the place of an atom may change. The
phrase principium individuationis is not, however, well
chosen. It should be medium individuationis; for the
authorship or origin of individuation, just as that of space
and time, belongs solely to the Unconscious, namely, the
ideal difference and singleness of the atoms to the idea,
their reality however to the will. -
It might now appear, on Superficial consideration, that
here only the same thing is said as by Schopenhauer, who
also claims space and time as the principium individua-
tionis. However, between his and my conception there
exists the fundamental difference, that with Schopenhauer
space and time are only forms of Subjective cerebral percep-
tion, with which the (speculative) transcendent reality has
nothing at all to do; that for him, therefore, all individua-
tion is a mere subjective appearance, to which corresponds
no reality outside the cerebral consciousness.
According to my conception, on the other hand, space
34O PHILOSOPHY OF THE UNCONSCIO US.
and time are just as much forms of outward reality as of
the subjective cerebral perception; certainly not forms of
the (metaphysical-) transcendent SUBSTANTIAL BEING, but
Only of its activity, so that individuation has not merely
an apparent reality for consciousness, but a reality apart
from all consciousness, without thereby curtailing plurality
of substance.
Here is the salient point for understanding the concep-
tion of objective appearance in opposition to the mere
subjective appearance of Kant, Fichte, and Schopenhauer.
The possibility of a plurality and individuation indepen-
dent of the conscious subject perceiving it depends on the
condition, that the principium or medium individuationis
is a datum independent of the perception of the conscious
subject, i.e., that space and time are not merely forms of
intuition, but also forms of existence of the of itself exist-
ing (i.e., independent of the representation of the con-
scious subject). Whoever denies this must necessarily also
deny that another plurality and individuation than that
posited by the conscious idea exist—must then deny that
his wife and himself are two individuals, independent of
his mental picture. But now the essence of matter is
only will and idea, and moreover one as the essence of all
being; plurality only lies in action, and is real plurality
only so far as at the same time a collision of will-acts
takes place (one atom would be no atom). It is here-
with, however, at the same time implied that plurality
and individuation (thus also reality, presence, and exis-
tence) reside only in the manifestation of metaphysical
force (comp. above, pp. 242-243), only in the action of sub-
stance, only in the manifestation of the hidden ground,
only in the objectification of the will, only in the appearance
of the one Essential Being. Plurality is therefore, on the
one hand, not mere Subjective appearance (of being in the
abstract); on the other hand, however, still mere appear-
ance of the one essence, therefore we call it objective
appearance. In like manner we call space and time as
METAPHYSIC OF THE UNCONSCIOUS. 34 I
principle of individuation of the plurality of the objective
appearances, objective forms of phenomena.
Had not Schopenhauer unfortunately leant too much on
Kant, he must of necessity have enounced the true view ;
whereas, as it is, he persists in the statement that the whole
diversity of the world only acquires existence through the
first animal consciousness and in its perception. Only
thus much truth lies in this, that objective manifestation
also, in order to be real, i.e., to emerge from the unconsciously
ideal composure into external reality, needed an opposi-
tion between different acts of will; error creeps in only
when the union of one of the affected will-acts with a con-
scious subject is required as condition. If we eliminate this
unwarranted requirement, the simple truth remains that the
objective phenomenon which rests on the individuation of
the one into the many, is also only possible in this plurality
without self-contradiction.
Moreover, there lies in Schopenhauer's assertion that the
world of individuation comes into existence only with the
first conscious subject perceiving it an incorrect assump-
tion, as if the subjective appearance which the intellect
spontaneously constructs out of the material processes in
the objective appearance of its brain were the immediate
and true appearance of the Essential Being, whilst it is,
in fact, very unlike, nay, in many points perfectly hetero-
geneous to, the objective phenomenon (i.e., the sum of
natural individuals as they are, independently of being
perceived). Only the objective phenomenon is the true
and direct manifestation of the Essential Being; the sub-
jective phenomenon, however, is a subjectively coloured
and distorted copy of the objective phenomenon. To gain
an adequate thought-picture of the objective appearance
by eliminating that which merely appertains to subjec-
tivity, and by the scientific investigation of the objective
causes of the particular given affection of the subject, is
the endeavour, and problem of Natural Science (Physics
in the widest sense), whilst Metaphysics endeavours to
342 PHILOSOPHY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS.
cognise the Essential Being according to its attributes and
its mode of revelation, which underlies the objective ap-
pearance (natural things). Thus, e.g., matter as subjective
phenomenon is matter with its palpable sense-qualities; as
objective phenomenon, a definitely extended complex of
punctual atoms; as essence, that which underlies this
phenomenon, the All-One Unconscious with the attributes
will and idea. The first is the sensuous, the second the
physical, the third the metaphysical definition of matter.
The second point wherein I depart from Schopenhauer
is this, that he knows no atoms at all, wherefore, properly
speaking, he cannot think anything by “individuation
of matter,” because he cannot say what are individuals
of mere inorganic matter. The third is, lastly, that he
naïvely regards organic individuals as just as much direct
objectifications of the will as I the atomic forces, whilst I,
following physical Science, suppose the same to arise by
the composition of atomic individuals.
With Schopenhauer, therefore, space and time are for
organic individuals principium individuationis in the
same sense as for atoms, whilst for the individuals of
higher order I can only admit as direct principium
individuation is those individuals of lower order of which
the former are compounded, if also space and time, of
course in the last resort, always remain indirect principium,
individuationis, since indeed the whole material world is
built up out of atomic forces. Only his subjective
idealism, to which matter, as also the organic body, must
be a merely subjective appearance without corresponding
reality beyond consciousness, could lead Schopenhauer to
explain the body as a direct objectification of the indi-
vidual will—an assertion which, in presence of the facts
of the extremely defective control of the will over the
body and of the change of matter, which is the first condi-
tion of all organic life, can by no means be upheld. Ex-
perience teaches us, in the first place, that the matter
which constitutes our body is something foreign and in-
METAPHYSIC OF THE UNCONSCIOUS. 343
different to us; that it is being continually thrown off and
replaced by other matter; secondly, that the matter of
our body, in contrast with the mind, forms in the same
way as the will of other persons a quite real power, with
which one must reckon in order to be able to control it
So far as is practically necessary, to which one, how-
ever, immediately succumbs as soon as one either thinks
to be able to neglect it, or makes demands upon it to
the enforcement of which the psychical power is unequal.
Experience, in a word, teaches that matter behaves as
an already pre-existing, to a certain extent indifferent,
crude building material, which the plastic individual
Soul attracts to and repels from itself according to its
needs, whose laws it must, however, respect, and dare
not attempt to infringe with impunity.
Bearing in mind the results of Chap. ix. C., according
to which the Unconscious realises life wherever the pos-
sibility of life offers itself, and considering that organic
life is only conceivable under the organic form and re-
quires matter for its realisation, it is evident that these
are the conditions determining the individuation of organic
life; for it must for its realisation make use of a complex
of atoms enclosed within certain limits of extension, and
put these into their appropriate situations and groups,
so as to render possible the organic interchange of matter;
the atoms employed, however, are individuals, i.e., each of
them is single, consequently the Organically constituted
complex of these atoms, and the activity of the Uncon-
scious exclusively directed to it, which together make up
the higher individual, must be single.
Thus, as already above suggested, the lower order of
individuals turns out to be medium individuationis for the
higher.—There would be no special gain for the purpose
of this inquiry in going deeper into evolution, and showing
in detail how, for the many-celled individuals, the cells
are just as much a power whose laws must be respected as
the matter for the cells, for in the body a change of cells just
344 PHILOSOPHY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS.
as much takes place as a change of matter, if also much
Inore slowly, &c. The essential thing is, that the individua-
tion of Organic life takes place only in and through matter,
but the individuation of the atoms in and through space
and time. In all higher individuals the general form
requires a content or matter in order to become concrete;
what was matter for the individuals of higher order be-
comes for those of the lower order form. Only with pure
matter is the last term of this series reached; only here
does the typical form become of itself concrete,_become
as it were itself matter through the simple artifice of fixa-
tion at the extended point, through the device that here
the directions of force all intersect at one and the same
point. Since the atomic forces have no matter lying out-
side them whereby they may be individualised, but only
their place, they are also discriminated (apart from the
difference between body and ether atoms) only by their
place, which is just their sole medium individuationis;
higher individuals, on the other hand, which have matter
for their medium individuationis, find also, besides the dif-
ference of the occupied place, in the matter taken into
possession by them, a rich field for individual differences.
With this is first given in the case of individuals of
lower order the possibility of an individual character,
and to this we must pay some attention, for it meets us
at all stages of organic life, from the individual character
of the simplest cell to that of the foundations of the
human mind, as a phenomenon at first perplexing for
monistic principles.
2. Individual Character—Concerning human character
there are two extreme opinions. The one (Rousseau,
Helvetius, &c.) asserts that all men are at birth equal,
i.e., devoid of an individual character; that their mind
is just as much a tabula rasa as regards character as
regards ideas, and that it only acquires the one as the
other by external impressions, and the character in par-
ticular by education and circumstances.
METAPHYSIC OF THE UNCONSCIO US. 345
The other view (Schopenhauer) asserts that character
is unalterable; that it manifests itself indeed, as is natural,
differently through different external opportunities, e.g.,
at different periods of life, but in its essence it is at
Once the man's inalienable and unchangeable nature and
foundation, consequently remains the same from birth to
death.
Each of these two views explains a part of the facts
very well, is closed, however, to another part of the
facts. If we ask, which of the two views appears
metaphysically more acceptable, the remarkable case
occurs that nothing can be objected to the view of the
French naturalists on the metaphysical side, while, on
the other hand, that of the metaphysician Schopenhauer,
who assumes the establishment of character by a reso-
lution taken once for all out of time, can hardly stand the
test of criticism derived from his own principles.
Schopenhauer himself wishes to be an absolute monist;
if, then, the will of the world is in its essence one; if,
further, the character likewise, according to his own
assertion, is nothing but the peculiarity of the individual
will, the individuality of the character can manifestly
only be conceived as possible in an individualised
activity of the universal will, but not as directly based
on the essential mature of the universal will, since this
, always remains universal. How, however, the activity
of the will which produces character is to be thought
as extra-temporal, of that I can form no idea. I can
only imagine a being, but not its activity, as out of time,
since activity at once supposes time, unless one also as-
sumes as possible an activity in Zero-time, in which case
it is in the moment also again extinguished. The char-
acter, however, that is to live through the life-period of
the individual manifestly requires also an activity of
the universal will, which lasts just as long. Otherwise
expressed, the doctrine of the intelligible individual
character is a contradiction to the monistic principle
346 PHILOSOPHY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS.
a contradiction also to the transcendent ideality of space
and time. For in the intelligible the principium indi-
viduationis is wanting, consequently also plurality and
individuality, consequently also the many individual char-
acters. The individual character pre-supposes the indi-
vidual, or rather individuals, thus plurality, individuality;
in short, the world of appearances: like this, it only becomes
possible through time, through the temporal activity of the
Universal Intelligible Being.
If this is now the state of the case, it is, in the first
place, not at once obvious why, if the characters are in
fact so different among one another, each individual
should during the duration of life, i.e., the whole time
in which this particular activity of the individual will
exists, remain the same, and not rather continually
change. -
Much more plausible, metaphysically, is the hypothesis
of the French rationalists, that only typical generic char-
acters, but not individual characters, are innate; that,
however, through alteration of the character in different
ways, the individual characters are gradually fashioned.
On this assumption we come to terms much more easily
with the all-unity of the Universal Being, for the indi-
vidual variation of the originally similar generic character
might then be referred to different brain impressions, each
of which leaves behind a permanent change in the brain,
which brings it about that thenceforward a molecular
movement in the same sense as that called forth by
those impressions more easily arises than one of a totally
different kind (vol. i. pp. 33–34). This is the way in
which altogether habit becomes a power in special appli-
cation to character. The first action of a particular kind
is purely decided by motives, on the assumption of a
still undetermined character; in what mode and strength
these come to the man depends on external circumstances.
If, however, the first action turns out in a particular way,
for the next similar case the motives which act in the
METAPHYSIC OF THE UNCONSCIOUS. 347
direction of the same decision as before have attained a
certain imperceptible advantage over the opposite motives,
which is heightened in every decision resulting in the
same way.
In this way it comes about that in the case of any
particular individual certain motives exert a greater,
others a less effect, than on the average typical generic
character, and the sum of all these tendencies is the indivi-
dual character.
According to this view, consequently, the individual
character arises especially by an individual constitution
of the brain, which is produced by former impressions
conditioned by external circumstances; for habit can
exercise a direct influence only on the organ of conscious-
ness, not on the Unconscious. Nevertheless, with the
constitution of the brain the kind of activity also changes
which the Unconscious directs upon the same; for this
changes with every change of the organism, and the brain
is one of the most important parts of it. The Unconscious
usually always calls forth as a motive in the brain the re-
action which is the easiest ; only where particularly impor-
tant, especially general interests are at stake in an action,
may we suppose that it takes upon itself the trouble of
answering with another than this easiest reaction on the
stimulus of the motive, a case which occurs in all action
according to unconscious purposes, when the reaction
which otherwise would directly respond to the motive fails
to take place, or is outbidden by another, exclusively con-
ditioned by unconscious intermediate terms.
In all cases, however, where the Unconscious has no
such considerable interest that it would reward it to replace
the reaction most easily occurring by another, will also
a customary change of this easiest cerebral reaction have
as its consequence a change of the activity of the Uncon-
scious. The mode of this activity is, however, the char-
acter itself-as we said before (B. Chap. iv.), man's inmost
being. It is no contradiction that this character lies in
348 PHILOSOPHY OF THE UNCONSCIO US.
the Unconscious, and yet its nature is conditioned by the
brain, the special organ of consciousness; for the organ of
consciousness, together with all its molecular relations,
which must be regarded as latent dispositions to certain
vibrations of this or that kind, lies itself so much beyond
all consciousness, that between its material function and
the conscious idea the whole complex of those uncon-
scious psychical functions is interposed with which we
have been hitherto occupied. At the same time, however,
we must here call attention to the circumstance that the
latent dispositions of the brain are by no means the sole
and sufficient cause, but only one of the co-operating
conditions for the determination of the idea entering into
consciousness, or of the will to act; for they alone would
never attain any psychical effect, but the spontaneity of
the Unconscious borrows only from them a determining
direction for the manner of the unfolding of its activity,
to which it is not so far bound as not spontaneously to
modify it for higher purposes.
From this consideration it follows that a man, even if he
were born without individual character, would have acquired
as adult an individual character deviating more or less
from the typical generic character. If this man now,
however, begets children, we know that, according to the
law of inheritance, the peculiar dispositions of his brain,
deviating from the typical human brain, pass on to some
of his children more or less completely. Then is such
child born with these latent dispositions, which condition
the individual character, and as soon as it comes into
circumstances where these dispositions are active, its
innate character comes to the front. The phenomena of
reversion in the paternal and the maternal line, and the
blending of such qualities handed on from different sides,
make the inquiry very difficult in the individual case
whence the different qualities of an innate character
arise; yet is the undeniable fact of the innate character
only thus to be explained. Whether the first man had an
METAPHYSIC OF THE UNCONSCIOUS. 349
individual character is an altogether idle question; his
general character was indeed his individual character,
since as the first individual of his species he completely
represented the same. According to the theory of descent
expounded in the last chapter, where the conception of
kind was found to be a somewhat fluent one, every organic
individual (accordingly also the first man) occupies a place
in a series of organic developments, within which it receives
from its immediate ancestors a whole treasury of etho-
logical peculiarities as its inheritance, which on its part
it again bequeaths, modified by the impressions of its life
(before procreation), to its descendants.
Every human being accordingly brings the main part
of his character with him into the world; how large in
proportion to this is the part which he acquires in addition,
depends on the uncommonness and abnormal nature of
the circumstances in which he moves. In most cases
the habits of one man's life do not suffice to produce far-
reaching changes in the inherited character. Usually
the acquired part of character is confined to fresh unim-
portant qualities, or the strengthening of existing ones, or
the weakening of others by disuse. The latter takes place
relatively in least degree, for as in all learning the most
difficult is the forgetting of what has been learnt, so of
all changes of character the most difficult is the Sup-
pression and weakening of existing qualities. It is this
in particular that caused Schopenhauer to maintain the
wnalterableness of character."
Whoever is disposed to doubt the fact of inheritance
of acquired qualities of character, I refer to examples of
the transmission of distinctly acquired qualities. Nobody
will doubt that the tendencies to disease hereditary in
families must, if one retraces the pedigree, be found
in an ancestor who did not inherit but acquired them.
* For the fuller discussion of this (“Beiträge zur Charakterologie,”
theory, as well as on the relation of and “Zum Verhältniss zwischen
will and motive, I may refer to my Wille und Motiv") in the Philos.
essay on Julius Bahnsen's writings Monatshefte, Bd. iv. Hft. 5.
35O PHILOSOPHY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS.
That amputated arms and legs and such-like mutilations
are commonly not inherited proves nothing against our
assertion, for they are too rough and palpable infractions
of the typical idea of the species for us to expect their
realisation in the child, and yet even here there are
remarkable exceptions. According to Häckel, a bull
whose tail had accidentally been wrenched off engendered
nothing but tailless calves, and by continuous cropping
of the tail for several generations a tailless breed of oxen
has been obtained. Guinea-pigs, who had been made epi-
leptic by artificial injuries of the spinal cord, transmitted
this disease to their descendants. In general acquired
qualities are more easily transmitted; the less they derange
the type of the species, the more minute are the organic
changes in which they consist. The latter is, however, in
high degree the case with all cerebral dispositions to certain
nervous vibrations. It is a well-known experience that the
young of tame animals become tamer than the captured
young of Savage animals; that of domestic animals, again,
those young promise to be most tame, most tractable,
most teachable, &c., that Spring from the tamest, most
tractable, most teachable parents. Amy taming of an
animal in a particular direction affords So much the more
prospect of success the further the taming of the parents
has gone in the same direction. Young untamed hunting-
dogs from superior parents act in the chase, almost of their
own accord, tolerably correctly, whilst with dogs derived
from parents who have never been employed for hunting
training for the chase is a fearful work. Sons of gene-
rations of horsemen attain a good Seat and balance at
the very first trial. All these are examples of acquired
qualities which are nevertheless inherited. They belong
entirely to the subject of our inquiry, individual character
in the wider sense, i.e., to the sum of bodily and mental
marks which distinguish an individual of a higher order
(apart, too, from his spatial distinction through the occu-
pation of place and the possession of a material body) from
all other individuals.
METAPHYSIC OF THE UNCONSCIOUS. 35 I
If, in contemplating human individual character, we
have hitherto kept in view the narrower sense of charac-
ter, this happened only because the controversy specially
turns upon the latter, not as if the difference in mental
tendencies, faculties, and talents were not just as essen-
tial in the establishment of individual distinctions. But
whoever has followed with approval our explanation of
character in the narrower sense will at once see that the
latter distinction can far less be conceived as arising in
Some other way, and a repetition of the explanation would
be quite superfluous. How little character in the narrower
sense is separable from mental endowment follows from
this: that, on the one hand, the possession of an intellectual
disposition or capacity is always accompanied by the im-
pulse to use it; and, on the other hand, that character in
the narrower sense always includes mental endowment,
since it is the source of the modes of reaction of the will
on different descriptions of motives, and every mode of
reaction becomes a special One only because the volition
following on a given motive possesses a special ideal con-
tent diverging from that of other individuals. If, then, the
character is innate (i.e., inherited), so also is the special
matter of thought innate, the willing of which on a given
motive makes up the special character of the innate mode
of reaction. A mental representation can, however, only be
innate as (inherited) slumbering idea of memory, i.e., as mole-
cular cerebral disposition to certain kinds of vibration (comp.
vol. i. pp. 33–34). In this way, e.g., the behaviour of the
untrained young hunting-dog (its attention to game, the
pricking up of its ears, its tendency to fetch and carry
thrown objects), is to be explained by a memory inherited
from its ancestors, in such a way, however, that the ideas
(of memory) arising on suitable occasion from inherited
cerebral dispositions do not become conscious as memories,
but only make their appearance as the content of the
acts of will called forth by those occasions (motives).
(Here appears a special confirmation of Plato's explana-
352 PHILOSOPHY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS.
tion of learning and reminiscence from a former life, except
that the validity of this explanation is a very limited one,
and the earlier life did not belong to the same individual.)
In man, too, a large part of the external manners and
peculiarities of deportment of movement and of behaviour
is composed of inherited cerebral dispositions of ances-
tors affected with the same peculiarities. That certain
mental talents are hereditary for several generations in a
family is proved by numerous examples (painters, mathe-
maticians, astronomers, actors, generals, &c.) All such
inherited predispositions contribute their quota, however,
to the constitution of the total individuality of the man
in his wºvigwénéSS.
I only add, that, whilst the character in the narrower
sense is always again equalised by cross-breeding, and in
the main remains at about the same level in the human
race—although the contrasts within the same become
ever more abundantly worked out and more sharply
drawn—that the mental endowments and faculties in the
human race are liable to a progressive enhancement. This
is owing to the circumstance that the various characters,
provided they are not eccentric, get through life about
equally well; but the man endowed with higher mental
capacities has always the advantage in the struggle
for existence. Still more than in individuals does the
truth of this contrast appear in nations; the character
of the latter has for their struggle for existence but
very small importance in proportion to their mental fit-
ness and education. Now the open, upright, and brave,
now the cunning, treacherous, and cowardly, now the slow
and enduring, now the ready and quickly recovering,
now the morally strict, now the corrupt, but always for
the length of time the intellectually higher nation comes off
conqueror in the struggle for existence, which accordingly
in this sphere also acts on the individual differences, con-
firming and enhancing them, whether these have first arisen
fortuitously or unconsciously in generation, or through
METAPHYSIC OF THE UNCONSCIOUS. 353
the outward circumstances of life or personal conscious
industry (comp. Chap. x. pp. IO-I3).
If, on the other hand, we throw our glance backward
beyond the commencement of human history on the
history of development of organic life, of which humanity
only forms the ripest fruit, there appears an advance
of character and intelligence preserving a perfectly equal
pace. We must ascend tolerably high in the animal king-
dom before we find manifestations of an intelligence
which are more than the immediate content of an act of
will that takes its direction from the present motive.
Hence the innate modes of reaction or inherited slumbering
ideas of memory have in those lower mental spheres a
relatively far higher importance (vol. i. pp. 88–89). But
as the Unconscious creates for itself in these cerebral or
ganglionic dispositions mechanisms for the easier perform-
ance of certain voluntary reactions (e.g., the tendency of
bees to construct hexagonal cells), so very well may some-
thing similar take place also with abstract human ideas,
which frequently recur, and are of special importance for
the Organisation of thought (e.g., mathematical notions,
logical categories, forms of language, &c.) Should we
have recourse for describing Such latent dispositions of
brain to the term “innate ideas,” this would be just as
impropéra designation as the other, “slumbering ideas of
memory” (comp. i. 3OI note), since the idea or presentation
is something added to the material function through the
ideal reaction of the Unconscious, and is not dispensed with,
but only facilitated by, the predisposition. It is also never
to be forgotten that even if the hitherto quite unproved sup-
position of cerebral dispositions answering to the concepts
in question is correct, yet the unconscious psychical func-
tion must always be the privas of the first formation of a
mode of vibration, from which the corresponding disposi-
tion Originally arose, and that further, in the case of other
formal elements of thought, special reasons oppose the
above supposition (comp. i. 343-344). But at all events,
WOL. II. ! Z
354 PHILOSOPHY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS.
one may regard this much as settled, that the enhancing
of conscious intellect in the history of development of
organisation and of humanity depends not only on an
increase of the intensive and extensive capacity and faculty
of combination, but also on an enhancement of the
inherited cerebral dispositions for all practically useful
intellectual directions of activity. We must not be
puzzled by the circumstance that in man (and even in the
anthropoid apes) the embryonic evolution of the brain goes
on for a tolerably long time after birth (comp. also i. 352–
353). t
The same results, which we preferred to obtain here by
another path, we might of course have also got if we had
directly built upon the results of the last two chapters,
and had kept in view the different causes of the individual
variations from the origin of the cell. The agreement of
the goal to which both roads lead may serve for corrobora-
tion. The difference which would still have to be adjusted
is the following:-
In lower organisms, where the variations are found
essentially in the bodily structure and the organic func-
tions, we sought the origin of the individual variations
more especially in that period of life which opposes the
least resistance to modifications; in Man, however, where
the variations of the mental qualities are far more in-
teresting than those of the bodily, we must of course
seek the origin of these variations in that period of life
when the mental functions are already active, thus after
birth, and indeed some little time after that ; but yet not
in the later periods of life, when the development is, as it
were, indurated, but in the receptive age of childhood and
3/070th.
Essentially, however, the source of individual differences
is the same in the whole domain of organisation: external
circumstances condition a varying structure of the organ-
ism, and the varying structure of the organism conditions
METAPHYSIC OF THE UNCONSCIOUS. 355
a variation of the activity of the All-One Unconscious
directed to it. These differences are added to that already
conditioned by the diversity of the material substratum,
and together form that total of differences which secures
to every individual his peculiar oneness.
( 356 )
XII.
THE SUPREME WISDOM OF THE UNCONSCIOUS AND THE
PERFECTION OF THE WORLD.
AT all times, and among all peoples, the wisdom of the
Creator, World-orderer, or World-governor has been the
theme of admiration and of praise. None of all the
peoples who in the course of history have attained even a
moderate degree of civilisation, whatever may have been
their other opinions in religion and philosophy, has been
So barbarous as not to have attained this perception, and to
have given it more or less rapturous expression. Although
this expression must, in part, be laid to the account of a
flattery of the gods with self-interested objects, yet at all
events the greater part of it remains the announcement
of a genuine conviction. This conviction thrusts itself
already on the mind of the child as soon as it begins to
comprehend the remarkable combination of means and
ends in Nature. He only who denies natural ends can
close his mind against this conviction; such a view can,
however, only be evolved from systematically ordered
philosophical abstractions, since it runs counter to the first
natural apprehension of the phenomena of Nature. Before
men form abstractions, they are most strongly moved by
the power of the concrete case, and the deeper heads of a
childlike nation may be lost in astonishment and reverence
at the perception of a striking natural purpose even in a
single case. Thus it is related of an ancient Brahmin that
he was so affected with astonishment at the sight of an
insect-capturing plant, that, forgetful of meat and drink, he
remained seated before it till the end of his life—Then
METAPHYSIC OF THE UNCONSCIOUS. 357
when man arrives at inductions from the concrete instances,
it is such propositions as “Nature does nothing in vain,”
“Nature does everything for the best,” “Nature employs
for its ends the simplest means and ways,” in which
he already early acknowledges the wisdom ruling in
Nature. This conviction finds its strongest rational ex-
pression in the period of Leibniz and Wolf. Although
Leibniz, in his denial of evil in the world, overshot the
mark, although a great part of the extravagant laudations
of the iterators of the “best world” was only hollow
bombastic declamation, which merely injured their case in
the eyes of posterity, yet a core of truth still remains.
If we consider the matter in connection with our former
conclusions, it will take somewhat the following shape:—
According to C. Chap. i., the Unconscious can never err,
nay, not even doubt or hesitate, but when the entrance of
an unconscious idea is wanted, it follows instantaneously,
implicity enclosing the process of reflection occupying
time in consciousness in the one moment of its oc-
currence, and undoubtedly correctly, since all the data
that can in any way be taken account of stand at the
command of the Unconscious in virtue of its absolute
clairvoyance, and indeed always and momentarily stand at
command, not as the data in conscious reflection that have
first to be dragged out by severe meditation from memory
one after the other, and still oftener are entirely want-
ing. All future ends, the nearest as the most distant, and
all considerations of the possibility of intervention in this
or that wise, act together in this manner at the moment of
origin of the required idea, and thus it happens that every
interposition of the Unconscious occurs precisely at the
most suitable moment, when the whole purpose-frame of
the world requires it, and that the unconscious idea which
determines the manner of the interposition is the most
suitable of all possible ones for this whole machinery of
ends. Such an interposition of the Unconscious in a
manner adapted to the peculiarity of the case according to
358 PHILOSOPHY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS.
our investigations takes place at every moment in the de-
partment of organic life; both the preservation consisting
in a replacement of the used-up material by nutrition and
in a ceaseless struggle against invading disturbances, as
well as the plastic energy manifesting itself partly in a
re-creation of accidentally destroyed parts, partly in an
enhancement of the individual form of life, and also the
plastic energy becoming reproduction through the setting-
up of fresh individuals; they all three are only conceiv-
able as a ceaseless ever-renewed interposition of the Un-
conscious at every single point of the organism at once ;
each of these interpositions being modified according to the
particular circumstances to which it refers, and each uni-
formly keeping in view the important ends which they all
subserve in common.
Every natural cause shows itself accordingly as means
for the great ends of Providence; every natural cause in
the organic realm presents itself as including a direct
participation of the Unconscious. But these continual
interpositions of Providence are themselves natural, i.e.,
not arbitrary, but according to law, namely, determined
with logical necessity by the main design fixed once for all,
and the circumstances of the moment in which the inter-
position takes places.
When the Christian theory emphatically declares that
God’s action is not merely a guidance on the large scale, but
that his immeasurable greatness is most remarkably dis-
played in this, that it is everywhere active in the smallest
detail, this view is only confirmed by our researches in
regard to organic life.
The fitness of the activity of the Unconscious is not how-
ever herewith exhausted, but as the cleverness of a person
is much more to be commended, who relieves himself of
an ever-recurring work by the construction of an ingenious
machine, than that of one who himself performs the same
in each single case with the utmost skill, so must we also
far more admire the wisdom of the Unconscious, when it.
METAPHYSIC OF THE UNCONSCIOUS. 359
saves itself a part of its interposition by mechanical
arrangements contrived for the purpose or even by a
clever use of external circumstances (e.g., of the struggle
for existence, or of the existing atomic forces), than when
it solves its problems by continuous direct interposition
in the most excellent fashion. Examples of this we have
already found in such numbers in the course of our in-
quiries that I consider a special reference, to say nothing
of enumeration, to be scarcely necessary here. The most
comprehensive and important of all these mechanisms,
however, is the system of the physico-chemical laws of
Nature. -
But however many mechanical contrivances the Uncon-
scious may employ to facilitate its labour, these can never
dispense with the continual direct interposition, for they
fall according to their very nature into a class of homo-
geneous cases, whilst in reality each case is distinct from
the other; the best-contrived mechanism thus always
leaves over a remnant of work, which falls afterwards as
before to the direct activity of the Unconscious, and which
consists in the complete adaptation to the peculiar nature
of the case. As soon as the expenditure of force needed
for the setting-up of a machine would become greater
than the saving of force attained by the mechanism (which
is the case in all combinations of circumstances which by
their nature occur but seldom, or where for other reasons
a mechanism can only be constructed with difficulty),
there of course the direct activity of the Unconscious
must display itself without hesitation. Of such a kind
are, e.g., the incursions of the Unconscious in human
brains, which determine and guide the course of history
in all departments of civilisation in the direction of the
goal intended by the Unconscious. -
If, now, according to all this, we cannot avoid ascribing
to the Unconscious, first, absolute clairvoyance (which
answers to the theological notion of omniscience);
Secondly, an infallible and indubitable logical concate-
360 PHILOSOPHY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS.
nation of the included data, and the most appropriate
action at the most suitable moment (in theological lan-
guage, omniscience united with supreme wisdom); and,
thirdly, a ceaseless intervention at every moment and at
every place (theologically omnipresence; one must add
omnipresence at all times); if we further consider that
at the first moment when the Unconscious became active,
thus at the moment of the first positing and disposing of
this world, just the same ideal world of all possible con-
ceptions, thus also of all possible worlds and world-goals
and world-ends and their possible means rested in the
omniscient Unconscious, if, lastly, we take notice that
the chain of final causality cannot from its very nature
be conceived interminable like that of bare causality, but
must terminate in a final end, because every preceding link
of the chain in final causation must be conditioned by the
following ; thus a completed infinity of ends would have to
be included in the idea, and yet all the infinitely nume-
rous final terms would hover as impossible in the air,
because they wait in vain for the true end which is to
determine them,--we may with justice confide that the
world is contrived and guided as wisely and well as is pos-
sible ; that if, among all possible ideas, that of a better world
could have lain in the omniscient Unconscious, certainly the
better one would have come to pass instead of the present one ;
that the unerring Unconscious neither could have been
deceived in positing this world as to its value, nor that in
the omni-temporal omnipresence of the Unconscious a
pause in its action could ever have been possible, since
by such a remissness in the government of the world
the better-founded world would have of itself deteriorated.
Consequently, we can only regard the assertion of Leibniz
as perfectly justified, “that the existing world is the best
of all possible ones.” To be sure, the path by which we
arrive at the preponderating probability of this assump-
tion is an indirect one. To aim at it by a direct path is
indeed a manifest impossibility, for how could we compre-
METAPHYSIC OF THE UNCONSCIOUS. 361
hend the infinitely many possible worlds, how sufficiently
know the existing ones, to compare it exhaustively with
these ? It was certainly, however, possible for us to prove
the existence of those qualities in the Unconscious in
consequence of which it must overlook the possible worlds
with a glance as it were, and of these worlds realise that
one which attains the most rational end in the most
efficient manner.
|But now, although in this respect we agree with Leibniz,
we can yet by no means approve of his conception of evil,
which he has adopted from Athanasius and Augustine,
and which consists in explaining it as something purely
privative, or a less degree of the good. Were it declared to
be something negative in the true sense of the word, rightly
understood, one could only approve this, for pleasure and
pain, good and evil are in fact related as positive and
negative, i.e., as thesis and antithesis; only it is to be
remarked that the negative has eacactly as much reality as
the positive; that it is purely a matter of the subjective
point of view, consequently, as this is self-chosen, an
arbitrary affair, which of two opposites is termed posi-
tive, which negative.
Put Leibniz had also too fine and too mathematical a
head to attempt, from the negativity of evil, to show its
unreality. Since, however, he is only concerned to prove
this in majorem Dei gloriam, he does violence to the facts,
and ascribes to evil not a negative, but a merely privative,
and indeed relatively privative character, i.e., he asserts:
“Evil is not the contrary, but the defect of the good, and
indeed only absolute evil could be the absolute defect of
the good; every relative evil, however, is only a relative
defect, i.e., a less degree of the good.”
This is an actual untruth, for from the proposition it
would at once follow that I must prefer the union of the
evil a with the good A to the possession of the latter alone,
since indeed the evil a is not by a long way absolute evil,
*.e., zero-evil, but only a less degree of good, thus increases
362 PHILOSOPHY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS.
the degree of good contained in A by its own good. The
non plus ultra of madness would be, however, according to
this view, when somebody to avoid a great evil foregoes a
good, and the man who at the same time suffers in the
extremest degree all conceivable bodily and mental tor-
ments would have to be called happy even at this moment
compared with the insensitive state of one under chloro-
form, to say nothing of the peaceful sleep of death. To
Such unnatural perversions does a false hypothesis lead,
that is invented for the sake of certain foregone con-
clusions.
If we inquire, however, concerning the motive in whose
interest it was set up, it is remarkable that this proves to
be mistaken, and therefore the whole hypothesis super-
fluous.
It used to be thought that there lay in the existence of
a real evil a contradiction to the perfect world. Much
mischief has at all times been wrought by the word
“perfect.” Already Plato (Timaeus, 7) and Aristotle regarded
the world as a sphere, and the astronomical movements as
circular, because the sphere is the most perfect form, and
circular movement the most perfect movement; and in
old manuals of artillery, too, one may read that balls
are used for shot because the ball is the most perfect
shape.
If “perfect” has any sense at all, it can only be “the
best of its kind,” for nothing can of course be better than
possible; and only in this sense would one have grounds
for regarding the world as possible. But now another
notion was substituted unperceived for that of perfect,
the immaculate or faultless, representing an absolute
value, filling the possessor with untroubled blessedness.
For such a perfection of the world, however, not the very
least particle of evidence was offered; it was a baseless
supposition, the result of confusion of ideas. It was
supposed the best possible must also be good, and it
was not at all considered that the best possibility of a
METAPHYSIC OF THE UNCONSCIOUS. 363
thing does not say anything whatever as to its goodness;
that it therefore may be as bad as one can imagine, nay,
that in certain cases the extreme of goodness and the
extreme of badness is precisely identical, namely, when
only one case is possible, or even when all possible cases
equal one another in goodness. Thus, then, because this
world is the best possible, it may still be thoroughly bad,
and since the best possibility says nothing at all as to its
goodness, the strongest proof of its badness can never become
an objection to its being the best possible, and consequently
the refutation of these objections never can become a Sup-
port to the assertion of its being the best possible, are there-
fore in this respect quite Superfluous.
Only if the defects and worthlessness exhibited prove
either the pursuing of a reprehensible purpose or an
application of unsuitable means to demonstrably good
ends, only then would they establish a doubt of the all-
wisdom of the Unconscious, and thereby indirectly, but
only indirectly, also of the best possible character of
the world. This is, however, the case neither as regards
evil, nor as regards the morally bad, nor as regards the
pleasant life of the immoral and suffering of the vir-
tuous; the ends to which these circumstances would be
inappropriate means must be the rule of universal
felicity, morality, and justice. As regards morality and
justice in particular, both have only an importance from
the point of view of individuation, i.e., they belong only
to the World of appearance, not to its essence. Indi-
viduation requires as fundamental instinct for the pre-
Servation of individuals, thus as fundamental condition
of their possibility, egoism ; without egoism no indi-
viduation ; with egoism necessarily direct injury of
another for one's own advantage, i.e., wrong, wickedness,
immorality, &c. All this is therefore a necessary una-
voidable evil for the sake of individuation, as I have
already shown in Chap. viii. A., vol. i. p. 190, in the
department of organic arrangements, that certain in-
364 PHILOSOPHY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS,
evitable evil conditions must be borne in spite of their
inappropriateness for certain ends, because their avoid-
ance would be inappropriate for still more important
ends.
The wisdom of the Unconscious is therefore only to
be admired, which, in the first place, has placed in the
human breast as counterpoise to the necessary egoism
those other instincts like compassion, benevolence, grati-
tude, feeling of approval and instinct of retaliation,
which serve for the averting of much wrong and pro-
duction of positive benefits, and of which the retaliatory
instinct and the feeling of approval in conjunction with
the instinct to form communities produce, after the trans-
ference of retribution to the state, the idea of justice,
which now on its part makes the desistance from wrong
by prospective punishment an affair of egoism, so that
this annuls itself by its own excesses.
But quite apart from this admirable arrangement
morality and justice are always only ideas, which have
a significance merely in regard to the behaviour of indi-
widuals to one another, or to the corporations formed of
individuals, but applied to the inner being of the indi-
viduals, i.e., to the One Unconscious—apart from the
form of its manifestation—become meaningless. But now,
since the All-One can in the last resort only be so far
interested in the world as it takes part in it, inheres
in it with its essence, and since the form of the manifesta-
tion is indeed an important point of transition, but apart
from its reaction on the Essential Being itself cannot
possibly be a final end; so will also morality and justice
as formal ideas only be capable of estimation in regard
to their teleological value for the Unconscious, according
to that standard which exclusively regards their effect on
its essence.
This, however, is only given by the sum of pleasure and
pain produced by morality and immorality, by justice
and injustice, in all the participating individuals acting
METAPHYSIC OF THE UNCONSCIO US. 365
or suffering, for these only are altogether real, not like
morality and justice, mere ideas of consciousness, and the
Unconscious is the common subject, which feels them in
all the different consciousnesses. Thus not in itself can
moral action have a value for the Unconscious, but only
so far as it lessens the sum of the sorrow to be felt by
it ; not in itself, also hot for the sake of morality can
justice have a worth, but only so far as it diminishes the
woe to be felt by diminution of immoral action. Although,
therefore, morality and justice, as such, cannot be ends in
the world-process, they might well be so for the sake
of happiness, if this, as an object directly concerning the
essence of the Unconscious, may be regarded as end,
which might well be supposed. As ends in such rela-
tive sense, however, morality and justice may certainly
be regarded without being contradicted by the facts,
since, indeed, the already mentioned instincts, but especi-
ally the ever-improving administration of justice, must
be recognised as means to the diminution of immoral
and unjust action. They must, however, entirely lay aside
their claims to absolute validity, and content themselves
with a very subordinate relative importance, to which
is to be added that, as immorality is an unavoidable evil,
without which no individuation is possible, so the
demand for a direct divine administration of justice is a
piece of theological unreason, which for the sake of an
extremely small utility would continually put the laws of
the world out of joint. Of happiness, i.e., the greatest
possible diminution of pain and the greatest possible
enhancement of pleasure, one would certainly think that
it must be something affecting the essence of the Un-
conscious itself, altogether real, 60 ipso end, especially since
there is no other subject for the feeling of pain and pleasure
than the One Unconscious; in conformity with this we
do also, in fact, See a number of preparations taken for
the warding off of pain and the enhancement of pleasure.
Just as little can we deny that on the Supposition of
366 PHILOSOPHY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS.
individuation and of the egoism connected therewith, the
inevitable necessity of pain in the struggle for existence
and in the death of the individual is given; yet we find a
number of facts that appear inappropriate as regards
happiness, and only become intelligible when the other
ends which they serve, e.g., perfection of consciousness,
&c., are more important than happiness; nay, this is even
the case with individuation itself. But now we cannot at
all understand how there should be an end that could take
precedence of happiness, since nothing could more im-
mediately affect the essence of the Unconscious than this.
We cannot comprehend how there could be anything that
would reward a sacrifice of happiness except the prospect
of a higher happiness, or that could repay the taking on
oneself of a pain except the prospect and avoidance of a
greater pain; otherwise it would only be driving the teeth
&nto one's own flesh. If then happiness is actually to be
the supreme end, there can be only such sufferings as
are unavoidable, in order to attain on another side, or
in a later stage of the process, a so much higher happi-
ness, or at least to obviate still greater, more extensive, or
more protracted sufferings. But if there were no prospect of
this, the existence of a world-process, or of a world at all,
would not be rationally intelligible, and the attainment of
God knows what other ends could afford no rational ground
for the assumption of a pain exceeding the pleasure.
Here now is the point where we again come back to
Leibniz, for it would indeed be too surprising if the con-
fusion of ideas between the perfect World as best possible, and
the perfect world as altogether good and faultless, had not,
in the case of so fine a mind as Leibniz, a hidden Support
justifying the drift of the “Theodicy” in a certain fashion.
This, however, is certainly discoverable; for not, as is
asserted, to show the Supreme excellence of the world did
Leibniz seek to enhance its worth by the privative cha-
racter of evil and the bad, but to justify the Creator on
account of his creation.
METAPHYSIC OF THE UNCONSCIOUS. 367
To wit, under all possible worlds the case is not included
that no world be created, just because no world is also
no world, thus also no one of possible worlds; should it
now turn out that the existing world is worse than none,
the reproach would fall on the Creator why he at all
created it, since it would indeed have been more rational
to create none. Then would the creation as such, alto-
gether apart from how it turned out, owe its origin to an
irrational act, and one would have then the choice either
to assume that the Reason of the Creator had no part in
this irrational act, and that only the task fell to it to
continue and carry out in the best possible manner the
original decision made without its participation; or, how-
ever, to grant that the Wisdom of the Creator, unquestion-
able in details, committed on the large scale a fundamental
error, and consequently became perfectly unfaithful to
itself, namely, if one wishes to sustain the assertion that
in that original act the totality of the Creator participated,
thus also his reason. The Second hypothesis is too mon-
strous; how could the Supreme Wisdom be so faithless to
itself as just to be guilty of the greatest unreason at the
most important moment 2 But Leibniz would and could
just as little have adopted the first supposition, because
he recognised no plurality of attributes in God. Con-
sequently it only remained for him to secure himself in
advance against the possibility that this world could have
turned out worse than mome, and for this purpose he invented
the theory of the privative character of evil.
We, who seek before all to maintain an unprejudiced
attitude in this inquiry, shall in the next chapter try to
solve the question empirically whether this world is to be
preferred or postponed to its non-existence. Should then
the latter be the result, we shall not seek to evade the
consequence that the existence of the world owes its origin
to an irrational act, shall however not assume that Reason
*tself has suddenly become irrational in this one point, but
that this act was only consummated without reason, because
368 PHILOSOPHY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS.
Ičeason had no part in it. This is possible to us, because
we recognise two activities in the Unconscious, of which
the One, the will, is just the inherently illogical (not anti-
logical, but a-logical), irrational. As we have already
found that all real existence owes its origin to the will, it
would, even a priori, be only wonderful if this existence
were not as such irrational.
But whatever the decision may be, in no case can an
objection be drawn from it to the all-wisdom of the Un-
conscious, and to the proposition that of all possible worlds
the easisting one is the best.
END OF WOL. II.
PRINTED BY BALLANTYNE, HANSoN AND co,
EDINBURGH AND LONDON.
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