more decried these writings are, the better; for, according to their principles, everything is good in proportion as it departs from the prevailing spirit of the Age;—and with these extraneous fancies they now decorate their own imperfect conceits, if indeed they do not take credit for them as their own. I may remark in passing, what cannot be denied, that among these fancies of the old and now decried Mystics, there are many admirable and genial thoughts; and we have even no wish to deny that among the more modern of them also there may be found many excellent expressions; but these gleams of genius are always surrounded by errors, and are never clear in themselves: in order to discover the beauties contained in these writings, the reader must bring similar excellencies with him to their study, and no one will learn from them who was not already wiser than they when he sat down to their perusal.
All Mysticism goes forth in a kind of enchantment; this is its invariable characteristic. What form of this art-magic, then, does that kind of Mysticism of which we now speak, exhibit? Only its Scientific form;—at least we now speak only of the scientific Mysticism of the Age; although there is doubtless another Mysticism of Art, as well as one of Life, which we may perhaps characterize at another time. This scientific Mysticism must therefore endeavour to produce some extraordinary and magical effect in sclence—something wholly impossible in the ordinary course of Nature. What then?—Science is either a priori or empirical. To comprehend a priori Science, partly as creating the world of Ideas, and partly as determining the world of Nature so far as it does determine it; —there is needed calm dispassionate thought, ceaselessly examining, correcting and explaining itself;—and it requires time and labour, and halfa life of devoted endeavour, to produce anything remarkable after all. This is too well known for any one to dream of the influences of enchant- MYSTICISM AS A PHENOMENON OF TIE TINIRD AGE, 137 ment here;—hence the Mystics look upon themselves as excluded from this province, and whatever they may require from it for the frame-work of their own productions, they can borrow from others, and elaborate after their own fashion so that no one may be able to recognise it; —and they may the more securely reckon upon concealment if they abuse him whom they plunder while they are plundering him. Lmpiricism still remains. In so far as this is purely empirical, by separation from all that is a priori in Nature, it is the common opinion, which may indeed be the right one, that this province can only be investigated by way of experiment, and that every inquirer must in the first place acquire an historical acquaintance with what is already known, and carefully test it again for himself, and can only hope to arrive at any new result by means of new experiments based upon an intelligent survey of the whole existing stores of Experience. This however is too tedious, and demands time and persevering exertion; and there are too many skilful fellow-labourers who might anticipate our discoveries; so that we might labour on to the end of our lives without getting credit for originality. Here some charm might be applied; and it is necessary to have one. Here therefore the Mystic attempts to penetrate, by a direct incursion of fancy, to the secret principles of Nature, and thus to supersede the course of laborious study and the troublesome method of experiment which peradventure might overturn all his previously formed systems.
On account of the universal propensity of human nature for the Wonderful, this scheme cannot fail to attract general attention and to call forth ardent enthusiasm. Although old men who have already travelled this path of laborious study,and perhaps have themselves produced fortunate and fruitful experiments, may see with some jealousy their former labours regarded as fruitless and inglorious, the results brought to light by their experiments demonstrated @ priori in a few sentences, and proved to have been attainable in other ways,—this phase of the Wonderful not having yet appeared when they were young;—the more welcome to those who have not yet entered upon this path of study, but now stand at the point whence according to former usage they must enter upon it, will be the promise of being safely lifted over it in the course of a few paragraphs. Should there, after all, no miracle ensue, as is the common fate of such magic arts; should no new empirical knowledge arise, and the Faithful remain exactly as wise or as ignorant as they were before;—should it be obvious, at least to every one who is not blind, that whatever is essential in any particular instance actually brought forward has not been deduced a priori, nor even attained by any course of reasoning, but has been already known by means of previous experiment, and is now only compressed into an allegorical form, in which compression the pretended deduction consists;—should the wonderworker himself neither satisfy the demand which must of necessity be made upon him to authenticate his higher mission by at least one fulfilled prophecy, nor even produce, as he ought, a single experiment never before made either by himself or others in some region unattainable by means of inference from previous experiment, the results of which, distinctly announced by himself beforehand, shall be found coincident with its actual fulfilment, but should proceed, like all false prophets, to prophesy the result a priori after its accomplishment has taken place; —should all this unquestionably have occurred, yet will the assured Faith of the Adept never waver;—to-day indeed the-process has not succeeded, but on the seventh, or on the ninth day, it will infallibly succeed.
To this stimulus of applause, there is added another very powerful one. The human mind, left to itself without discipline or education, would neither be idle nor industrious; —were a middle state between these two discovered, that were the proper thing for it. To remain idle altogether and do nothing is too tiresome;—and if one has unfortunately made study his business, it is to be feared that in such a case he might learn nothing, which again is un- -pleasant, especially on account of its consequences. Real Thought and Speculation are troublesome and unproductive;—truly to learn anything demands indeed an effort of attention and memory. Imagination steps in.
Let a successful master once bring this power into play, —and how can he fail ifhe be a Mystic, since Mysticism is always sure to lay hold of the unguarded and inexperienced?—then Imagination pursues its way without farther trouble to its possessor, quickens into life, assumes new aud varied forms, and thus puts on the appearance of a vigorous activity without the smallest trouble on our part;—bold and adventurous thoughts make their appearance in our minds without we ourselves being called on to think at all; and study is changed into the most pleasant business in the world. And then, above all, the glorious results!— when scarcely released from school, or even while still there, to confront the most approved men in the land with brilliant thoughts, which they indeed, too well acquainted with the nature of true knowledge, lave never dreamed of!—and to be able to shrug our shoulders at their momentary embarrassment on account of our absolute ignorance, as at a confession of their own weakness, and so pass on pluming ourselves on our fancied superiority! During the course of this description we have not been ignorant, nor have we overlooked the fact, that absolutely unscientific men niay probably pass the same judgment on the labours of genuine Speculation and its friends. We grant that, since they must hold all Speculation to be Mysticism,—there being absolutely nothing in existence for them but Experience,—they are perfectly right in doing so according to their own view; and, on the other hand, since we maintain the existence of a world lying beyond all Experience, and at the same time, and precisely on account of this @ priort world and as a consequence of it, contend also for the existence of an Experience which must always remain Experience, so we for our part cannot fitly express in any other way the censure which is called forth by the analogous error,—that of introducing a pretended Speculation into the legitimate domain of Experience. Generally speaking, however, the mere expression is of little moment; but it is of moment that one understand the subject under discussion, and can venture to give a reason to him who does understand it; and to this extent, we believe that we lave vindicated our pretensions, were it only by what we have said to-day. It is allowable publicly to remain silent upon such obvious folly as does not force its way into our more immediate presence; and we should not, even in this narrow circle, have wasted upon such a subject the few words which we have spoken to-day, had not the completeness of our undertaking required us to do so.
In fine, this seems to be the spirit of the particular period of our Age in which we live:—the system of mere naked Experience as the only legitimate source of Truth may be supposed to be on the decline, and on the contrary, the system of Mysticism which, by means of a pretended Speculation, seeks to dislodge Experience even from its own legitimate province, now begins to bear sway with all its revolutionary consequences, in order to inflict a fearful retribution on the Race which gave itself up to the former delusion. It is in vain to seek a remedy against this movement, for it is now a necessary tendency of the Age, and is besides equipt with all that is most attractive to the Age. Happy the wise man who can rise superior to his Age and to all Time! who knows that Time is nothing in itself, and that there is a Higher Guidance securely leading our Race, amid all its apparent wanderings, to the true end of its existence!
(141) (141) THE Scientific constitution of the Third Age has been sufficiently described in our former lectures, partly in itself, and partly by means of antecedent and succeeding conditions. The remaining characteristics and peculiarities of any Age depend upon its Social condition, and especially upon the State, and are to be defined thereby. Therefore we cannot proceed with our delineation of the Third Age, until we have seen to what stage of its development the State has attained in this Age,—of course in the countries of the highest Culture——to what extent the Absolute Idea of the State is therein expressed and realized, and how far it is not.
In none of the relations of Humanity does our Race possess less real liberty, and in none is it more hindered and obstructed, than in the constitution of the State, which being chiefly determined by the common condition of mankind, checks the activity of men of the highest wisdom, and sets limits to the realization of their plans, The political constitution of an Age is therefore the result of its earlier fortunes, whereby its present condition has been determined, which in turn determines its constitution;—hence this constitution cannot be understood in the way in which we shall endeavour here to understand.
that of our own Age except through the History of the Age. But here we meet with a new difficulty—this, namely:—our Age is far from being at one with itself in its view of History, and still farther from agreement with that view which we, who are guided by Reason as Knowledge, take of History, which view it cannot even understand. It is therefore unavoidably necessary that we should, in the first place, set forth our own view in a general way, and justify it, before making those applications of it which are afterwards to occupy our attention; —and to this purpose we shall devote our present lecture.
It is so much the more incumbent upon us to enter upon this exposition, inasmuch as History is itself a part of Knowledge, and ranks with Physics as the second department of Empiricism; and we have already. expressed ourselves distinctly on the nature of these Sciences, while we have given only a passing glance to History. In this respect our present lecture still belongs to that part of our undertaking which comprises a picture of Scientific existence in general;—closing that division of our plan, and opening up a passage to a new portion of it.
Not by any means with the view of leading your judgment captive beforehand, but, on the contrary, that I may incite you to its more vigorous exercise, I have to intimate, that I shall here give utterance to nothing but what, in my opinion, must become evident to you at once by its own immediate clearness;—of which there may be ignorance, but with respect to which, when once announced, there can be no dispute.
I begin my definition of the nature of History with a metaphysical principle, the strict proof of which I am prevented from adducing solely by the popular nature of our present discourses, but which recommends itself directly to the natural sense of Truth in man, and without the adoption of which we could arrive at no firm foundation in the whole field of Knowledge;—with this principle, namely: — Whatever actually exists, exists of absolute necessity; and necessarily exists in the precise form tn which it does exist; it ts impossible that it should not exist, or exist otherwise than as it does. Hence, to whatever possesses real existence we cannot attribute any beginning, any mutability, or any arbitrary cause. The One, True, and Absolutely Self-Existent Being, is that which all voices call by the name,—God. The Existence of God is not the mere foundation, cause, or anything else of Knowledge, so that the two could be separated from each other; but it is absolutely Knowledge itself: His Isxistence and Knowledge are absolutely one and the same thing; He exists in Knowledge, precisely as He exists in His own Being, as absolute self-sufficient Power; and thus when we say—‘ His Existence is absolute, and—‘ Knowledge has absolute Existence,—the meaning is exactly the same. This principle, which is here announced merely in the form of a result, may be made thoroughly clear in the higher walks of Speculation.
But further:—a World has no Existence but in Knowledge, and Knowledge itself is the World; and thus the World, by means of Knowledge, is the Divine Existence in its mediate or indirect manifestation; while Knowledge itself is the same Divine Existence in its direct or immediate manifestation. If therefore any one should say that the World might also not exist; that at one time it actually did not exist; that at another time it arose out of nothing; that it came into existence by an arbitrary act of God, which act He might have left undone had He so pleased;—it is just the same asif he should say, that God might also not exist; that at onetime He actually did not exist; that at another time He came into existence out of non-existence, and determined Himself to be by an arbitrary act of will, which He might have left undone had He so pleased. This Being, then, of whom we now speak, is the Absolute Being, transcending all Time; and whatever is comprehended in this Idea is only to be perceived a priori in the world of Pure Thought, and is invariable and unchangeable throughout all Ages.
Knowledge is, as we have said, the manifestation, utterance, and perfect representative of Divine Power. It exists therefore for itself; i.e. Knowledge becomes Self-Consciousness;—and in this Self-Consciousness it is its own peculiar, self-sustaining power, freedom, and activity because it is a manifestation of Divine Power;—and it is all this as Knowledge constantly developing itself throughout Eternity to higher inward purity, by means of its action upon a certain Object of Knowledge, from which this progress takes its beginning. This Object manifests itself as a definite something which might have been different from what it is; for this reason,—that it exists and is yet not understood in its primitive origin; and Knowledge has throughout Eternity to unfold its own inward power in the comprehension of this Object; —and in this progressive development we have the origin of Time.
This Object of Knowledge comes into view only in consequence of the previous existence of Knowledge, and thus lies within the limits of that existence as already set forth; it is therefore an Object of mere perception, and can only be understood empirically. It is the one, persistent, and abiding Object, towards the comprehension of which Knowledge must strive throughout Eternity: in this abiding and objective unity it is called Nature; and the Enipiricism which is systematically directed upon it is called Physics. On this Object, Knowledge unfolds itself in a continuous succession of Eras; and the Empiricism which is systematically directed upon the fulfilment of this succession of Eras is called History. Its object is the development of Knowledge on the Unknown;—a development which at all times remains unexhausted.
Thus the Being and Existence which lies beyond all Time is in no way contingent; and no theory of its origin can be given either by the Philosopher or by the Historian:—the Actual Existence in Zime, on the contrary, appears as if it might have been otherwise, and therefore as contingent; but this appearance of contingency arises only from our ignorance; and the Philosopher may say, generally, that the Unknown, as well as the infinite steps towards its comprehension, exists as it does exist, only that it may be so conceived of; but he cannot, by means of such a series of conceptions, at all define the Unknown, or deduce it from its primitive elements, as in that case he must have comprehended Infinity itself, which is absolutely impossible. Here therefore is his limit; and should he wish to acquire knowledge in this department, he is thus plainly directed to Empiricism for it. Just as little can the Historian set forth this Unknown, in his genesis, as the origin of Time. His business is to point out the successive modifications of actual Empirical Existence. He must therefore assume beforehand this Empirical Existence itself, and all its possible conditions. What these conditions of Empirical Existence are, and thus, what is presupposed in the mere possibility of History, and must be first of all before History can even find a beginning;—this is the business of the Philosopher, who has, in the first place, to secure a firm foundation and starting-point for the Historian. To speak quite popularly on this point;—Has man been created?—then he could not have been present, at least with consciousness, at that event, or have been able to observe how he passed over from non-existence into existence; nor can he relate it as a fact to posterity. But, it is said, the Creator has revealed it to him. J answer:—In that case the Creator would have abolished the Unknown whereon the existence of man himself depends; He would thus have destroyed man again immediately after his creation; and, as the existence of the world and of man is inseparable from the t Divine Existence itself, He would at the same time have destroyed Himself;—which is entirely opposed to Reason. As to the origin of the world and of the Human Race, then, neither the Philosopher nor the Historian has anything to say; for there is absolutely no such origin: there is ae the One Necessary Being, raised above. all Time. As to the necessary conditions ai Actual Existence which lie beyond all Actual Existence itself, and therefore beyond Empiricism;—of them the Philosopbér~ has to give an account; and should the Historian in ‘his. early researches ech upon such themes, he. must distinctly understand that they belong not to the province of History,. but to that of Philosophy,—it may be in the old simple form of narrative, in which form it is ‘called ‘Myth; and he must here acknowledge ‘the jurisdiction’ of Reason, which in matters of Philosophy is the only judge, and not endeavour to sway us by the imposing word Jact. The fact,—often most fruitful and instructiye,—is here simply ‘that such a Myth has been. - Having thus fixed the boundaries which separate Philosophy and History, I shall now proceed, in the next place, ‘to define generally the conditions of Empirical Existence which are presupposed in the possibility of History.
Knowledge ‘necessarily divides itself: in “consciousness, into a consciousness of many individuals and persons:—a division which is strictly deduced from its first principle in the Higher Philosophy. As surely as Knowledge exists,—and this is as sure as that God exists, for it is His Existence itself,—so surely does Humanity also exist, and that in the form of a Human Race consisting of many individual members; and since the condition of the social life of men is intercourse by means of speech, this Human Race is also provided with the implement of Language. No History, therefore, should undertake to explain the origin of the Human Race in genéral, nor of its social life, nor of its language. Further, it is a part of the essential vocation of Humanity that in this, its first life on Earth, it should train itself up with freedom to become an outward manifestation of Reason. But out of nothing, nothing ean arise; and thus Unreason can never become Reason. Hence, in one point of its existence, at least, the Human Race must have been purely Reasonable in its primitive form, without either constraint or freedom. In one point of its existence, at least, I say; for the true purpose of its existence does not consist in being Reasonable, but in becoming Reasonable by its own freedom; and the former is only the means and the indispensable condition of the latter: we are therefore entitled to no more extensive conclusion than that the condition of Absolute Reasonableness must have been somewhere extant. From this conclusion we are forced to admit the existence of an original Normal People, who by the mere fact of their existence, without Science or Art, found themselves in a state of perfectly developed Reason. But there is nothing to -hinder us from also admitting that there lived at the same time dispersed over the whole earth, timid and rude Earth born Savages without any Culture but what was necessary for the preservation of their mere sensuous existence;—for the purpose of the life of the Human Race is only to cultivate itself according to Reason, and it would be quite practicable to carry out this process among the Earth born Savages by means of the Normal People.
As an immediate consequence of this position, no History should attempt to explain the origin of Culture in general, nor the Population of the different regions of the Earth. The laboured hypotheses, especially on the last point, which are accumulated in books of travels, are, in our opinion, trouble and labour lost. But there is nothing from which History, as well as a certain half-philosophy, should more carefully guard itself than the altogether irrational and fruitless attempt to’ raise Unreason to Reason by a gradual lessening of its degree; and, given only a sufficient range of centuries, to produce at last a Leibnitz or a Kant as the descendant of an Ourang-Outang.
History takes cognisance only of the New,—the Wonderful; —that which may be contrasted with what has gone before, and what shall follow it. On this account there was no History among the Normal People, and there is no History of them. Under the guidance of their Tnstinct, one day passed away like another; and one individual life like all the rest. Everything shaped itself spontaneously according to order and morality. There could even be no Science or Art; Religion alone adorned their existence, and gave the simple uninformed mind a relation to the Eternal. As little could there be a History among the Earth born Savages; for with them, likewise, one day passed away like another, —with only this difference, that on one day they found food in abundance while on another they could obtain nothing; prostrated the one day from indulgence and on the next from enervation;— to awaken again, in either case, to the same uncbanging round which led to no result.
Had things remained in this state; had the absolute Culture,—which however did not look upon itself as Culture but only as Nature,—remained separate from the surrounding Barbarism, then no History could have arisen; and, what is still more important, the end of the existence of the Human Race could not have been attained. The Normal People must therefore, by some occurrence or other, lave been driven away from their habitations, all access to which was thenceforth cut off; and must have been dispersed over the seats of Barbarism. Now for the first time could the process of the free development of the Human Race begin; and with it, History, — the record of the Unexpected and the New,—which accompanies such a process. For now, for the first time, the dispersed descendants of the Normal People perceived with astonishment that all things were not, of necessity, such as they were with them; but might be otherwise having indeed discovered them to be otherwise in reality; and the Earthborn, after they had been awakened to conscious intelligence, had a great deal even more wonderful to record. In this conflict of Culture with Barbarism, the germs of al] Ideas and all Science,—except Religion, which is as old as the world itself, and is inseparable from the existence of the world,—unfolded themselves, as the power and means of leading Barbarism to Culture.
Far from History being able reasonably to raise her voice on the subject of her own birth, all that has now been set forth is presupposed in the mere existence of History. Inferences from a state of things amid which it has had its beginning, as to what has preceded that state, especially inferences from the Myths which are already in actual existence, and in so far have themselves become facts,—particularly when such inferences are in accordance with Logic,—should be. thankfully accepted. But let us bear in mind that they are inferences and not History;—and should we desire to examine more closely the form of the inference, let us not be scared back by the bugbear—Fact. Let this be our first incidental observation; and let the second be as follows: ——Every one who is capable of a survey of History as a whole,—which however is always rarer than a knowledge of its individual curiosities; and who in particular is able to comprehend what is universal, eternal, and unchanging in it, might in such a survey obtain a clear view of some of the most important problems of History;—for example, how the existence of races of men, differing so much from each other in colour and physical structure, is possible;—why it is that at all times, down even to the present day, civilization is always spread by means of foreign incomers, who encounter aboriginal inhabitants in a state of greater or lesser Barbarism;—whence arises