METAPHYSICAL THOUGHT AND PHILOSOPHICAL THOUGHT

WE HAVE STATED THAT METAPHYSICS differs profoundly not only from science, but also from everything that Westerners, and especially the moderns, refer to by the name of philosophy, under which heading moreover many heterogeneous and even quite dissimilar elements are brought together. It is of little importance in the present instance to consider what notions the Greeks originally may have meant to include in the term philosophy, which appears at first to have comprised for them, in a rather indistinct way, the whole of human knowledge, within the limits in which they were able to conceive it; we only propose to deal with what actually passes under this name at the present day. First of all, however, it should be noted that whenever true metaphysics has made its appearance in the West, people have always tried to link it up with questions appertaining to special and contingent points of view, in order to include it together with these questions in one whole, bearing the name of philosophy; this goes to prove that in the West the essential characteristics of metaphysics, whereby it is distinguished from every other kind of knowledge, never emerged with sufficient clearness. One may go even further and say that to treat metaphysics as a branch of philosophy, either by placing it thus on a level with relative sciences of any kind or even by qualifying it as the 'first philosophy', as Aristotle did, implies a profound misunderstanding of its real scope and of its character of universality: the absolute whole cannot form a part of something, nor can anything else whatsoever enfold or comprise the Universal. This in itself, then, is clear evidence of the incompleteness of Western metaphysics, which furthermore is to all intents and purposes limited to the doctrine of Aristotle and the Scholastics, for, with the exception of a few fragments scattered here and there and of certain things about which not enough is known to speak of them with any great degree of certainty, no other doctrine of a truly metaphysical character is to be met with in the West, at least from the time of classical antiquity onward, not even if every allowance is made for the admixture of scientific, theological, or other contingent elements; we do not include the Alexandrians, however, upon whom Eastern influences came to be exercised in a direct manner.

If modern philosophy be considered as a whole, it may be said, quite generally, that its point of view does not differ in any essential way from that of science: the point of view in either case is a rational one, or at least pretends to be, and all knowledge that is confined to the domain of reason, whether or not it is called philosophical, is strictly speaking scientific knowledge; if it aspires to being something else, it thereby loses all value, even of a relative kind, through arrogating to itself a scope and importance that do not legitimately belong to it: this is the case of what might be termed pseudo-metaphysics. Furthermore, the distinction between the provinces of philosophy and science is all the less justifiable in that the former includes among its numerous constituents certain sciences that are just as special and restricted as any others, and that do not possess characteristics distinguishing them in a way that would entitle them to a privileged position; sciences of this sort, such as psychology or sociology for example, are only called philosophical as the result of custom not based upon any logical argument; philosophy, in short, possesses only a purely fictitious unity, historical if one wishes, and it is difficult to say why it is no longer customary, as in former times, to include in it various other sciences as well. On the other hand, certain sciences at one time classed as philosophical are no longer considered to be so at the present day; the fact that they have received a wider development has proved a sufficient reason for separating them from this ill-defined assemblage, although intrinsically their nature has not altered in the very least; if some sciences still remain under the heading of philosophy, no more should be seen in this than a survival of the extended meaning which the Greeks originally had given to philosophy, whereby it in fact included all the sciences.

From what we have said it is clear that true metaphysics cannot have a closer or a different relationship with psychology, for example, than it can have with physics or physiology: these are all alike natural sciences, that is to say physical sciences in the primary and general sense of the word. Still less can metaphysics be considered as at all dependent upon any such special science: to pretend to give it a psychological basis, as certain philosophers have tried to suggest—having no other excuse for such an attitude but their own complete ignorance of what metaphysics really is—amounts to trying to make the universal depend upon the individual, the principle upon its more or less remote or indirect consequences, and it also inevitably entails ending up with an anthropomorphic, and therefore eminently anti-metaphysical conception. Metaphysics must of necessity be self-sufficing since it is the only kind of knowledge that is really direct, and it cannot be based on anything other than itself from the very fact that it consists of the knowledge of universal principles from which all else is derived, including the subject matter of the various sciences. If the above-mentioned sciences have isolated their subject matter from these principles in order to consider it from their own special points of view, such a procedure is certainly legitimate on their part, for were they to do otherwise and refer their subject matter to universal principles, they could not but go beyond the limits of their own particular fields. This last observation also shows that there can be no question of basing these sciences directly upon metaphysics; the very relativity of the points of view that they represent assures them of a certain autonomy, and to misunderstand this can only lead to quite unnecessary conflicts. This error, which weighs heavily upon all modern philosophy, was in the first instance committed by Descartes, whose metaphysics moreover was really no more than a pseudo-metaphysics, and who only interested himself in it in order to provide an introduction to his physics, to which he thought in this way to give a more solid foundation.

If we turn now to logic, we will find that it is not in quite the same position as the sciences we have so far been considering, all of which may be called experimental sciences, since they are based upon the results of observation. Logic is also a special science, being essentially a study of the conditions properly pertaining to human understanding; but its connection with metaphysics is more direct, in the sense that what are called logical principles are simply applications and specifications in a determinate sphere of the true principles which belong to the universal order: this enables a transposition to be effected in respect of them similar to that which we indicated as possible when speaking of theology. The same considerations are equally applicable in the case of mathematics: this science, although necessarily limited in its range by reason of being exclusively confined to the realm of quantity, applies in its own special sphere certain relative principles that may be regarded as constituting a direct particularization of certain universal principles. Thus, taking the field of science as a whole, logic and mathematics may be said to be the two sciences having the most real affinity with metaphysics; but from the very fact that they come within the general definition of scientific knowledge, being confined within the limits of reason and within the category of individual conceptions, it follows that they are still radically separated from pure metaphysics. It is this separation that prevents any effective value being attached to points of view represented as being more or less of a blend of logic and metaphysics, such as the 'theories of knowledge' that have played such a prominent part in modern philosophy; reduced to what may be considered as their legitimate elements, these theories are only logic pure and simple, and to the extent that they claim to go beyond logic they are merely pseudo-metaphysical fantasies devoid of any substance. In a traditional doctrine logic can only occupy the place of a secondary and dependent branch of knowledge, and it is regarded as such in both China and India; like cosmology, which was studied in the West as well as the East during the Middle Ages, but which is ignored by modern philosophy, it is in fact, as we have seen, only an application of metaphysical principles to a particular point of view and in a determinate sphere; we will however return to this point later when dealing with the Hindu doctrines.

What has just been said concerning the relationship between metaphysics and logic will perhaps seem surprising to those who are accustomed to regard logic as in a sense dominating all possible knowledge, on the grounds that no speculation of any order whatsoever can be valid unless conforming strictly to its laws; nevertheless it is quite evident that metaphysics, always by reason of its universality, can no more be dependent upon logic than upon any other science; the error in that case may be said to consist in conceiving knowledge as lying solely within the sphere of reason. However, it is necessary at this point to make a distinction between metaphysics itself, as purely intellectual conception, and its formal expression; while the former is entirely free from individual limitations, and therefore from those of reason, the latter, in the measure in which it is possible, can at best amount to a sort of translation of metaphysical truths into the discursive and rational mode, for the simple reason that the very constitution of all human language does not permit of its being otherwise. Logic, like mathematics, is exclusively a rational science; metaphysical exposition may assume an analogous aspect with regard to its form, but with regard to its form only, and if it must then comply with the laws of logic, that is because these laws themselves rest on an essentially metaphysical basis, without which they would have no validity; at the same time, however, if it is to possess a truly metaphysical bearing, this exposition must, as we have already shown, always be formulated in such a way as to leave open possibilities of conception as limitless as the domain of metaphysics itself.

As for morality, or ethics as it is now called, we have already partly explained what it implies in the course of our discussion of the constituent elements of religion, but we have yet to refer to its specifically philosophical conception, insofar as this is clearly distinguishable from the religious conception. There is nothing in the entire realm of philosophy more relative and contingent than ethics; indeed, it no longer even represents knowledge of a restricted order, being merely a more or less coherent mass of considerations the aim and scope of which can only be purely practical, notwithstanding the illusions too commonly cherished on this subject. In fact, it is solely a matter of formulating rules applicable to human action, the need for doing so moreover being found exclusively within the social order, since these rules would have no sense were it not for the fact that human individuals live gregariously, in more or less organized groups; furthermore, these rules, instead of being regarded from the purely social standpoint as is the case with the Easterners, are formulated in conformity with that specifically moral point of view which is foreign to the greater part of mankind. We have seen how it was possible for this point of view to find a place among religious conceptions, through a linking up of the social order with a doctrine that had been subjected to influences of a sentimental kind; but apart from this particular case, it is not easy to see wherein lies its justification.

Outside the religious viewpoint, which gives to ethics a legitimate meaning, everything connected with this order of things should logically be reduced purely and simply to a body of conventions, established and obeyed solely with the object of making social life possible and tolerable; but if this conventional character of ethics were frankly recognized and acted upon accordingly, there would no longer be any question of philosophical ethics. It is sentimentality once again which has stepped in here, and which, in order to find material for the satisfaction of its own special needs, contrives to take these conventions and to cause them to be taken for other than what they really are; hence the development of many different theories, some of which remain clearly sentimental in form as well as in substance, while others are disguised under a more or less rational appearance. Moreover, if ethics, like everything else bound up with social contingencies, vary greatly according to circumstances of time and place, the ethical theories making their appearance in a given society, however opposed they may appear to be on the surface, all alike tend to justify the very same practical rules, which are always those commonly observed in the society in question. This in itself should suffice to show that these theories are devoid of any real value, being built up by each individual philosopher solely as a belated justification for his own conduct and that of his fellow men—or at least of those who are most in sympathy with him—in accordance with his own views, and above all with his own feelings.

It is noticeable that ethical theories of this kind come to light chiefly during periods of intellectual decadence, doubtless because this decadence is itself correlated with or consequent on the expansion of sentimentalism, and perhaps also because, by plunging in this way into illusory speculations, at least a faint semblance of thinking is preserved. This phenomenon occurred notably among the Greeks, after their intellectuality had yielded up, with Aristotle, the last contribution of which it was capable; in the later philosophical schools, such as the Epicurean and the Stoic, everything was subordinated to the moral point of view, and it was to this that they owed their success among the Romans, for whom all speculation of a higher order would have been difficult of attainment. The self-same phenomenon has recurred at the present day, when 'moralism' has become unusually rampant, but this time primarily through a degeneration of religious thought, as is clearly shown by the example of Protestantism; it is natural, moreover, that those peoples whose mentality is purely practical, and whose civilization is wholly material, should seek to satisfy their sentimental aspirations through that false mysticism which finds one of its expressions in philosophical ethics.

We have now passed under review all those branches of philosophy that possess a clearly defined character; but the philosophical field also contains a variety of more or less indeterminate elements that cannot properly be included under any of these headings, and that are not held together by any characteristics inherent in their own nature, but solely by reason of their being grouped within the same systematized conception. For this reason, after separating metaphysics completely from the so-called philosophical sciences, there is a further need to distinguish it no less radically from the many philosophical systems which most commonly originate, as we have already seen, from someone's attempt at intellectual originality; the individualism expressed by such a pretension is manifestly opposed to the traditional spirit, and it is also incompatible with all conceptions of a truly metaphysical order.

Pure metaphysics necessarily excludes all systematization, for a system cannot avoid being a closed and limited conception, contained in its entirety within boundaries more or less narrowly defined, and as such is in no wise reconcilable with the universality of metaphysics; besides, a philosophical system is always the system of some particular person, that is to say a construction the value of which can only be purely individual. Furthermore, every system is necessarily erected upon some more or less special and relative foundation, being really nothing more than the development of an hypothesis, whereas metaphysics, which possesses the character of absolute certainty, cannot admit anything hypothetical. This does not mean to say that a system may not contain a certain element of truth in respect of this or that particular point; but it is illegitimate insofar as it is a system, and it is in the systematic form itself that the radical falsity of the conception taken as a whole is inherent. Leibnitz was right in saying that 'every system is true in what it affirms and false in what it denies, which really amounts to saying that its falsity is the greater in proportion as it is more narrowly limited—or in other words systematic—since a conception of this kind leads inevitably to the negation of everything lying outside its scope. In all fairness this must be applied to Leibnitz himself no less than to other philosophers, insofar as his own philosophy assumes a systematic character; moreover, such true metaphysics as it contains is borrowed from the Scholastics, and even this he has often distorted by failure to understand it aright. As regards the statement that a system is true in what it affirms, this should not be taken as the expression of any sort of eclecticism; it simply amounts to saying that a system is true to the extent that it leaves the way open for less narrowly limited possibilities of conception; this is indeed obvious, but it implies precisely the condemnation of the system as such. Metaphysics on the other hand, lying as it does outside and beyond relative things, all of which belong to the individual order, for that very reason eludes all systematization, just as, for the same reason, it cannot be enclosed within any formula.

It should now be quite clear what we mean by the term pseudo-metaphysics: it includes everything in a philosophical system that lays claim to a metaphysical character, any such pretension being totally unjustified by reason of the systematic form itself, which is sufficient to deprive theories of this kind of all real significance. Indeed, some of the problems commonly engaging the attention of philosophical thought appear to be deprived, not only of all importance, but of any meaning as well; a host of problems arise resting solely upon some ambiguity or upon a confusion of points of view, problems that only exist in fact because they are badly expressed, and that normally should not arise at all. In most cases, therefore, it would in itself be sufficient to set these problems forth correctly in order to cause them to disappear, were it not that philosophy has an interest in keeping them alive, since it thrives largely upon ambiguities. There exist a number of other questions also, belonging moreover to widely differing orders of ideas, that may quite justifiably be raised, but in regard to which a precise and exact formulation would lead to an almost immediate solution, the difficulties involved being much more verbal than real. If it happens that among these questions some are of such a nature as to be capable of having a certain metaphysical bearing, they lose this entirely upon inclusion within a system: it is not enough that a question should be of a metaphysical character, it is necessary in addition that, being recognized as such, it should be conceived and treated metaphysically. It is evident, in fact, that one and the same question may be treated from a metaphysical point of view or in a variety of other ways; and whether the subjects to which the majority of philosophers have seen fit to devote themselves be considered interesting or not, one thing is certain, namely that there is nothing metaphysical about them. It is a matter at least for regret that the lack of clarity which is so characteristic of modern Western thought, and which is apparent quite as much in the ideas themselves as in their expression, by permitting as it does indefinite and random discussion without ever solving anything, leaves the way open for a mass of hypotheses, which certainly have the right to be called philosophical but have absolutely nothing in common with true metaphysics.

In this connection, it may also be observed generally that questions which arise as it were accidentally, and only possess a particular and momentary interest, like many of those to be met with in the history of modern philosophy, are thereby clearly deprived of all metaphysical character, or in other words are lacking in the character of universality; moreover, most questions of this kind usually fall into the category of problems enjoying a purely artificial existence.

The truly metaphysical, let us repeat once more, can only be that which is absolutely stable, permanent, and independent of all contingencies and in particular of historical contingencies; that alone is metaphysical which does not change, and it is also this universality of metaphysics that constitutes its essential unity, precluding the multiplicity of philosophical systems and religious dogmas alike, and hence that confers on it its profound immutability.

From all that has been said, it also follows that metaphysics bears no relation to conceptions such as idealism, pantheism, spiritualism, and materialism, which are all stamped with the systematic character of Western philosophical thought; and this point is all the more important to note here since orientalists commonly suffer from the obsession of trying at all costs to force Eastern thought into these narrow frames which were never made for it; we shall have occasion later to draw special attention to the misuse thus made of these ineffectual labels, or at least of some of them. For the moment there is only one point upon which it is necessary to insist, namely that the quarrel between spiritualism and materialism, around which almost all philosophical thought has revolved since the time of Descartes, has nothing to do with pure metaphysics; here, in fact, is an example of one of those questions of a purely temporary nature to which we have previously referred. Actually the duality 'spirit-matter' had never been put forward as absolute and irreconcilable prior to the Cartesian conception; indeed, the notion of matter, in the modern sense of the word, was completely foreign to the ancient peoples, the Greeks included, and it is still equally foreign to the majority of Easterners at the present day; in Sanskrit no word exists even remotely answering to it. The conception of a duality of this kind has the sole merit of representing in a fairly adequate way the outward appearance of things; but precisely because it stops short at appearances it remains entirely superficial and, being based on a special and purely individual point of view, it leads to the negation of all metaphysics as soon as an attempt is made to attribute an absolute value to it by affirming the irreducibility of its two terms—an affirmation that constitutes dualism in the proper sense of the word. Moreover, the opposition between spirit and matter only represents one particular example of dualism, since the two terms of the opposition might well be quite other than these two relative principles, and it would be equally possible to imagine in the same manner an indefinite series of pairs of correlative terms besides this one, in reference to other more or less particularized determinations.

Speaking quite generally, dualism is characterized by the fact that it stops short at the antithesis between two more or less particular terms. This opposition doubtless really does exist from a certain point of view, and herein is to be found the element of truth that dualism contains; but by treating it as irreconcilable and absolute, whereas it is really quite relative and contingent, all possibility of going beyond the two contrasted terms is precluded; thus it is that dualism is seen to be limited by its own systematic nature. If this limitation is not accepted and there is a desire to resolve the opposition to which dualism clings so obstinately, it is possible to put forward several different solutions; and two solutions do in fact appear in those philosophical systems which may be grouped together under the common heading of monism. It may be said that monism is essentially characterized by a refusal to admit the existence of an absolute irreducibility and a wish to surmount the apparent opposition, leading to an attempt to achieve this result by reducing one of the two terms to the other; we therefore find, in the particular case of the opposition between spirit and matter, spiritualistic monism on the one hand, which claims to reduce matter to spirit, and on the other hand materialistic monism, which claims on the contrary to reduce spirit to matter. Of whatever kind it may be, monism is right in maintaining that there is no absolute opposition, for in this respect it is less narrowly limited than dualism, and it represents at least an effort to penetrate further to the heart of things; but it ends almost inevitably by falling into another error, through completely neglecting, if not altogether denying, the opposition in question which, even if only an appearance, nonetheless deserves to be recognized as such: here once again it is the exclusiveness of the system that is responsible for its principal defect. On the other hand, by wishing to reduce one of the two terms directly to the other, it is never possible to escape completely from the alternative set up by dualism, since nothing is considered outside those two terms, which are treated as its basic principles; and seeing that these two terms are correlative, it might even be asked whether either has any justification for existing apart from the other, or if it is logical to preserve the one while suppressing the other. Indeed, we find ourselves in the presence of two solutions which are really much nearer to being equivalent than they appear on the surface. The fact that spiritualistic monism affirms that everything is spirit, whereas materialistic monism affirms on the contrary that everything is matter, is really of little importance, particularly since each finds itself obliged to attribute to the principle that it retains the most essential properties of the one it suppresses. It is evident that discussion between spiritualists and materialists carried out on this basis must rapidly degenerate into a mere battle of words: the two opposed monistic solutions represent in reality but two sides of a double solution, and one moreover that is wholly inadequate.

It is here that a different solution must be propounded. But whereas with dualism and monism we were only concerned with two different types of systematized conception of a purely philosophical order, we shall now be considering a doctrine the viewpoint of which, on the contrary, being a purely metaphysical one, has consequently received no name in Western philosophy, which can but ignore it. We will call this doctrine 'non-dualism', or better still, the 'doctrine of non-duality', in order to translate as exactly as possible the Sanskrit term advaita-vāda, which has no recognized equivalent in any European language. The first of these two expressions has the advantage of being more concise than the second, and for this reason we are quite prepared to adopt it; it is true that it suffers from the presence of the ending 'ism', which in philosophical language is ordinarily attached to the names of systems, but it might justifiably be argued that the negation bears upon the word 'dual-ism' in its entirety, including its ending, implying that the negation embraces dualism precisely insofar as it is a systematic conception. Non-dualism, while not admitting an absolute irreducibility any more than monism, differs profoundly from the latter in that it does not for this reason claim that one of the two terms of the opposition is purely and simply reducible to the other; both terms are considered simultaneously within the unity of a common but more universal principle, in which both are equally contained, no longer as opposites in the ordinary sense of the word, but as complements, by a kind of polarization which in no way affects the essential unity of this common principle.

Thus the intervention of the metaphysical point of view has the effect of immediately resolving the apparent opposition, and moreover it alone is able to accomplish this where the philosophical point of view has proved itself impotent to do so; and what is true of the distinction between spirit and matter is equally true for any other of the distinctions, indefinite in number, which one might likewise choose to establish between various more or less special aspects of Being. If it is moreover possible to view simultaneously an indefinite series of such distinctions, all equally true and legitimate from their respective points of view, this is because we are no longer confined within a systematization limited to one of these distinctions to the exclusion of all the others; thus 'non-dualism' is the only type of doctrine that corresponds to the universality of metaphysics. In general the various philosophical systems may be attached, in one respect or another, either to dualism or to monism; but non-dualism, such as we have described it in principle, is capable of immeasurably surpassing the scope of all philosophy, because it alone is genuinely and exclusively metaphysical in its essence, or in other words because it is an expression of the most essential and fundamental character of metaphysics itself.

If it has seemed necessary for us to develop these questions at such length, this is on account of the habitual ignorance existing in the West concerning everything connected with true metaphysics, and also because such considerations are directly connected with our subject, whatever some people may choose to think, since it is metaphysics that is at the heart of all the doctrines of the East, so that it is impossible to understand anything at all about them without having acquired a notion of metaphysics sufficient at least to dispel all possible confusion. In tracing the wide difference separating metaphysical thought from philosophical thought, we have shown how the classical problems of philosophy, even those that it regards as most general, have literally no place at all in pure metaphysics; the transposition from one point of view to the other, which has moreover the effect of bringing to light the profound meaning of certain truths, causes these pretended problems quite simply to disappear—a clear indication that they possess no deep significance. On the other hand, these explanations have provided us with an opportunity for bringing out the meaning of 'non-duality', an understanding of which, essential for all metaphysics, is not less indispensable in interpreting the Hindu doctrines in particular; this follows naturally from the fact that these doctrines are purely metaphysical in essence.

There remains one further remark to be made which is of the utmost importance: not only is it impossible to limit metaphysics by the consideration of any duality composed of complementary aspects of Being—whether it be a question of such special aspects as spirit and matter or on the contrary of aspects that are as universal as they can be, such as those represented by the terms 'essence' and 'substance'—but it cannot even be limited by the conception of pure Being in all its universality, since it must not be limited by anything whatsoever. Metaphysics cannot be defined exclusively as 'knowledge of Being', as Aristotle defined it: strictly speaking this is only ontology, which undoubtedly falls within the province of metaphysics but which nevertheless does not constitute the whole of metaphysics; and it is in this respect that the metaphysics of the West has always remained incomplete and insufficient, as also in another respect which will be indicated further on. Being is not really the most universal of all principles, as it would have to be for metaphysics to coincide with ontology, because even if Being is the most primordial of all possible determinations, it is nonetheless clearly a determination, and every determination is a limitation at which the metaphysical point of view cannot stop short. A principle obviously possesses proportionately less universality the greater its degree of determination, carrying with it a corresponding degree of relativity; to use the language of mathematics, it may be said that a determinative 'plus' is equivalent to a metaphysical 'minus'.

This absolute indetermination of the most universal principles, of those principles which should therefore be considered before all others, is a cause of considerable difficulty, not as regards their conception—except perhaps for those who are not accustomed to it—but at least in the exposition of the metaphysical doctrines relating to them, so that it often becomes necessary to resort to expressions that in their exterior form are purely negative. It is thus, for example, that the idea of the Infinite (which in reality is the most positive idea of all, since the Infinite can only be the absolute whole which, being limited by nothing, leaves nothing outside itself) can only be expressed by a term negative in form, because in language every direct affirmation is of necessity the affirmation of something, that is to say a particular and determinate affirmation; but the negation of a determination or of a limitation is properly the negation of a negation, and therefore a real affirmation, so that the negation of all determination is equivalent in reality to affirmation total and absolute. What we have said of the idea of the Infinite can be applied equally well to many other extremely important metaphysical conceptions, but this example is sufficient for present purposes; however, it should never be forgotten that pure metaphysics is in itself absolutely independent of all the more or less imperfect terminologies in which we try to clothe it in order to make it more accessible to human understanding.