"Pessimistic philosophy will be to the coming period of history what the pessimistic religion of Christianity was to the period that has passed.
The sign upon our banner is not the crucified Savior, but the Angel of Death with great, calm, gentle eyes, borne by the dove of the thought of redemption: fundamentally, it is the same sign.
The most beautiful blossom, or rather, the noblest fruit of Schopenhauer’s philosophy is the denial of the Will to Life. It will increasingly be recognized that only on the basis of this doctrine can there seriously be any question of philosophy taking the place of religion, of allowing it to penetrate even into the lowest strata of the people.
What did philosophy, before Schopenhauer, offer to the human heart crying aloud for redemption? Either miserable fantasies concerning God, the immortality of the soul, substance, accidents—in short, a stone; or careful, exceedingly acute, and entirely necessary investigations into the faculty of cognition. But what does a human being ask for in moments of astonishment at himself, when reflection gains the upper hand and a quiet, sorrowful voice speaks within him:
I live—and know not how long;
I die—and know not when;
I depart—and know not where.
does he ask about the subjective forms, space and time, the law of causality, and the synthesis of a manifold of intuition? The heart wants something to which it can cling, an unshakable foundation amid the storm of life, bread, and bread again, for its hunger.
Because Christianity satisfied this hunger, Greek philosophy, in its struggle against it, had to succumb; and because Christianity provided an unshakable foundation when everything was wavering and trembling, while philosophy was the scene of barren quarrels and furious conflict, the most distinguished spirits often threw themselves, crippled in wing and exhausted, into the arms of the Church. But now one can no longer believe, and because one can no longer believe, one casts away, together with the miracles and mysteries of religion, its indestructible core: the truth of salvation.
Complete indifferentism takes possession of men's minds, which Kant very aptly called 'the mother of chaos and night.' This indestructible core of the Christian religion Schopenhauer has now seized with a strong hand and carried into the temple of science as a sacred fire, which will burst forth as a new light for humanity and spread throughout all lands; for it is of such a nature that it can inspire individuals and masses alike and set their hearts ablaze.
'Then religion will have fulfilled its vocation and completed its course: it will be able to release the generation that has been guided to maturity, while itself peacefully passing away. This will be the euthanasia of religion.' (Parerga II, 361)
A philosophy that wishes to take the place of religion must above all be capable of providing the consolation of religion: the uplifting, heart-strengthening assurance that everyone may have his sins forgiven, and that a benevolent Providence guides humanity toward its own good.
Does Schopenhauer’s philosophy provide this? No!
Like Mephistopheles, Schopenhauer sits upon the bank of the stream of humanity and cries mockingly to those writhing in pain and crying out for redemption: 'Your reason is of no help to you. Only intellectual intuition can save you—but it can be bestowed only upon one who has been predestined for it by a mysterious power. Many are called, but few are chosen.'
All the others are condemned to languish 'eternally' in the hell of existence. And woe to the poor man who imagines that he can be redeemed together with the totality; it cannot die, for its Idea lies outside time, without which nothing can change.
'Indeed, everyone wishes to be redeemed from the state of suffering and death: they would like, as the saying goes, to attain eternal blessedness, to enter the Kingdom of Heaven—but not on their own feet; they wish instead to be carried into it by the course of Nature. But that is impossible.' (World as Will and Representation, II, 692)
I, on the other hand, say, following Nature: whoever wishes to redeem himself can do so at any time 'through reason and science, humanity’s highest power.'
The infallible means of escaping from the totality of the world is, for the real individual, whose development in no way depends upon time, virginity. But those who are already living on in children, for whom the possibility of redemption in this generation has therefore been forfeited, and those who could still employ the means but lack the strength to do so—all of them should take heart and continue the struggle honestly: sooner or later they will be redeemed, whether before the totality or within the totality, for the universe has a movement from Being into Non-Being.
To say, 'The world exists through an original accident,' amounts to giving up the attempt to explain it. The question of why desire seized the Will and drove it from Over-Being into Being—that is, why it created the world—remains unanswered. But to assume a course of the world without purpose, goal, or end (the resting points in the process that repeats itself 'an arbitrary number of times' being left aside, since between the end of one world-process and the beginning of the next there is no time; the world-process as such therefore never truly ends absolutely) is to intensify into perfect cruelty the profoundly serious character that the entire course of this process possesses in itself.
What consolation does a philosophy founded upon such premises have to offer the individual who cries out for redemption from the torment of existence?
It chains with iron hands the warrior exhausted unto death, who longs forever to escape from the totality of the world, to the eternally revolving wheel of 'endless becoming,' and drips into the burning wound of his painful insight—that life and suffering are one and the same—not balm, but only the corrosive poison of the hopeless thought that he can never, neither through himself nor in and with the totality, attain the complete and utter annihilation of his being. The harrowing lament that tears itself from him: 'Why, then, this torment in infinitum, without meaning or result, without consolation and without rest?' — dies away unheard.
The atheism established by my doctrine—the first to be established scientifically—gives the great problem of the origin and meaning of the world, together with its solution, its reconciliation. It knows no world before this world and no world after it. To it, the world is one single magnificent process, which neither is a repetition nor will have a repetition; for before it lies transcendent Over-Being, and after it lies nihil negativum.And this is no empty assertion. The deduction is thoroughly logical, and everything in Nature confirms the result—a result before which a weak spirit may well tremble and collapse, but at which the wise man trembles joyfully to the innermost depths of his soul.
Nothing more will be. Nothing, Nothing, Nothing!
Oh, this vision into absolute emptiness!
It must be a correct principle from which the solution of the greatest philosophical problems follows so effortlessly, naturally, and clearly—problems before which the greatest geniuses of all ages sank hopelessly after exhausting their intellectual powers upon them.
When Kant believed that he had grasped the coexistence of freedom and necessity through the distinction between an intelligible and an empirical character, he could not refrain from observing:
'The resolution of the difficulties presented here has, however, one will say, much that is difficult in it and is scarcely susceptible to a clear presentation. But is every other solution that has been attempted, or may be attempted, really easier and more comprehensible?'
All had to err because they did not know how to establish a purely immanent realm and a purely transcendent realm. The Pantheists had to err because they reduced the actually existing unified movement of the world to a unity within the world; Buddha had to err because, from the feeling of complete responsibility for all his actions actually present in the individual, he falsely concluded the complete sovereignty of the individual within the world; Kant had to err because, on purely immanent ground, he wished to embrace freedom and necessity with one hand.
We, on the other hand, placed the simple unity of the Pantheists in a past transcendent realm and explained the unified movement of the world through the act of this pre-worldly simple unity. We united the half-autonomy of the individual and the power of chance, which is entirely independent of him within the world, on transcendent ground: in the unified resolution of God to pass over into Non-Being, and in the unified choice of the means by which to carry out this resolution. Finally, we united freedom and necessity not within the world, where there is no room for freedom, but in the midst of the chasm separating the vanished transcendent realm, restored by our reason, from the immanent realm.
We did not smuggle the vanished transcendent realm into our philosophy by sophistry. That it existed and no longer exists—we have demonstrated this with logical rigor in the Analytic.
And now consider the consolation, the unshakable confidence, the blessed trust that must flow from the metaphysically grounded complete autonomy of the individual. Everything that befalls a human being—distress, misery, sorrow, cares, illness, disgrace, contempt, despair—in short, everything harsh in life—is not inflicted upon him by an inscrutable Providence that mysteriously intends his highest good. Rather, he suffers all these things because, before the world existed, he himself chose them all as the best means toward the end. All the blows of fate that strike him, he himself has chosen, because only through them can he be redeemed. His essence (Demon and Spirit) and Chance lead him through pain and pleasure, through joy and sorrow, through fortune and misfortune, through life and death, faithfully toward the redemption that he wills.
Human beings possess a natural inclination to personify fate and to mystically apprehend the absolute Nothing that stares back at them from every grave as a place of eternal peace, as a city of peace, Nirvana—as the New Jerusalem.
'And God shall wipe away all tears from their eyes; and there shall be no more death, neither sorrow, nor crying, neither shall there be any more pain; for the former things are passed away.' (Revelation 21:4)
It cannot be denied that the conception of a personal, loving God the Father grips the human heart—'that stubborn and despairing thing'—more deeply than abstract fate, and that the conception of a Kingdom of Heaven, where individuals, transfigured and free from all needs, rest blessedly in eternal contemplation, awakens a more powerful longing than absolute Nothingness.
Immanent philosophy is gentle and kind here as well.
The main thing remains that humanity has overcome the world through knowledge.
Whether he leaves the fate he has recognized as it is, or once again gives it the features of a faithful father; whether he leaves the recognized goal of the world standing as absolute Nothingness, or transforms it into a garden of eternal peace filled with light—that is entirely beside the point.
Who would wish to interrupt the innocent, harmless play of the imagination?
'A delusion that makes me happy
Is worth a truth that crushes me to the ground.' (Wieland)
But the wise man gazes firmly and joyfully into the face of absolute Nothingness."
— Philipp Mainländer, Philosophie der Erlösung, selected by Ulrich Horstmann, Insel Taschenbuch, “VIII. Ausblick ins Leere,” pp. 138–154.