82 



PHILOSOPHICAL THOUGHT. 



this ; he is the first who has taught what music 

 signifies." 1 



I have given more space to an account of Schopen- 

 hauer's views on art and the beautiful, and especially on 

 music, than is usually accorded by purely philosophical 

 writers. This I have done in deference to the popu- 

 larity which Schopenhauer's writings have acquired and 

 enjoyed during the last fifty years ; also because he fur- 

 nishes one of the rare instances in which speculations 

 about art have been received with favour by artists 

 themselves. There is also no doubt that, independent 

 of his philosophical doctrine, Schopenhauer's wide 

 acquaintance with, and appreciation of, the best in art 

 and literature of nearly all times and nations, and his 

 transparent and interesting style, have attracted many 

 readers and students to whom otherwise philosophy would 

 have remained a sealed book. 2 Similar qualities and simi- 

 lar causes have formed the attraction also in some, especi- 

 ally of the earlier, writings of Eduard von Hartmann. 



1 Kuno Fischer, loc. cit., p. 341. 



2 Kuno Fischer has also well 

 brought out that Schopenhauer's 

 philosophy is really more a work of 

 art than a well-founded and well- 

 reasoned work of thought. And 

 in this, its artistic character, con- 

 taining a striking theme repeated 

 in endless variations and clothed 

 in a beautiful yet simple style, it 

 must be contemplated rather than 

 critically dissected. Least of all 

 must it be brought into relation with 

 the personal character of its author, 

 from whom it appears detached and 

 unable to receive any further illu- 

 mination. Living out of the world, 

 he looked upon it as something en- 

 tirely detached from himself: his 



pessimism was not, as some of his 

 opponents suggest, a mere affecta- 

 tion. " It was a serious and tragic 

 view of the world, but it was an 

 image, a picture. The tragedy of 

 world - misery was acted in the 

 theatre. He sat among the specta- 

 tors in a comfortable fauteuil with 

 his opera-glass. . . . Some of the 

 spectators forgot the world-misery 

 at the buffet ; not one of them 

 followed the tragedy with the same 

 intense attention and seriousness 

 as he did with his penetrating 

 eye ; then he went home deeply 

 moved but quite happy, and de- 

 scribed what he had seen " (loc. cit., 

 p. 125). 



