Section 1
Original German
I. Einleitung.
Ueber das Problem.
Eine von der Königlich Holländischen Societät zu Harlem 1810 aufgestellte und von J. C. F. Meister erledigte Preisfrage: „warum die Philosophen in den ersten Grundsätzen der Moral so sehr abweichen, aber in den Folgerungen und den Pflichten, die sie aus ihren Grundsätzen ableiten, übereinstimmen?“ — war eine gar leichte Aufgabe, im Vergleich mit der vorliegenden. Denn:
1) Die gegenwärtige Frage der Königlichen Societät ist auf nichts Geringeres gerichtet, als auf das objektiv wahre Fundament der Moral und folglich auch der Moralität. Eine Akademie ist es, welche die Frage aufwirft: sie will, als solche, keine auf praktische Zwecke gerichtete Ermahnung zur Rechtlichkeit und Tugend, gestützt auf Gründe, deren Scheinbarkeit man hervorhebt und deren Schwäche man verschleiert, wie dies bei Vorträgen für das Volk geschieht: sondern, da sie als Akademie nur theoretische und nicht praktische Zwecke kennt, will sie die rein philosophische, d. h. von allen positiven Satzungen, allen unbewiesenen Voraussetzungen und sonach von allen metaphysischen, oder auch mythischen Hypostasen unabhängige, objektive, unverschleierte und nackte Darlegung des letzten Grundes zu allem moralischen Wohlverhalten. — Dies aber ist ein Problem, dessen überschwängliche Schwierigkeit dadurch bezeugt wird, daß nicht nur die Philosophen aller Zeiten und Länder sich daran die Zähne stumpf gebissen haben, sondern sogar alle Götter des Orients und Occidents demselben ihr Daseyn verdanken. Wird es daher bei dieser Gelegenheit gelöst; so wird fürwahr die Königliche Societät ihr Gold nicht übel angelegt haben.
2) Ueberdies unterliegt die theoretische Untersuchung des Fundaments der Moral dem ganz eigenen Nachtheil, daß sie leicht für ein Unterwühlen desselben, welches den Sturz des Gebäudes selbst nach sich ziehen könnte, gehalten wird. Denn das praktische Interesse liegt hier dem theoretischen so nahe, daß sein wohlgemeinter Eifer schwer zurückzuhalten ist von unzeitiger Einmischung. Nicht Jeder vermag das rein theoretische, allem Interesse, selbst dem moralisch-praktischen, entfremdete Forschen nach objektiver Wahrheit deutlich zu unterscheiden vom frevelhaften Angriff auf geheiligte Herzensüberzeugung. Daher muß, wer hier Hand ans Werk legt, zu seiner Ermuthigung, sich allezeit gegenwärtig erhalten, daß vom Thun und Treiben der Menschen, wie vom Gewühl und Lerm des Marktes, nichts weiter abliegt, als das in tiefe Stille zurückgezogene Heiligthum der Akademie, wohin kein Laut von Außen dringen darf, und wo keine andere Götter ein Standbild haben, als ganz allein die hehre, nackte Wahrheit.
Die Konklusion aus diesen beiden Prämissen ist, daß mir eine völlige Parrhesia, nebst dem Recht Alles zu bezweifeln, gestattet seyn muß; und daß, wenn ich, selbst so, nur irgend etwas in dieser Sache wirklich leiste, — es viel geleistet seyn wird.
Aber noch andere Schwierigkeiten stehen mir entgegen. Es kommt hinzu, daß die Königliche Societät das Fundament der Ethik allein für sich, abgesondert, in einer kurzen Monographie dargelegt, folglich außer seinem Zusammenhange mit dem gesammten System irgend einer Philosophie, d. h. der eigentlichen Metaphysik, verlangt. Dies muß die Leistung nicht nur erschweren, sondern sogar nothwendig unvollkommen machen. Schon Christian Wolf sagt: „Tenebrae in philosophia practica non dispelluntur, nisi luce metaphysica affulgente“ (Phil. pract., P. II. §. 28), und Kant: „Die Metaphysik muß vorangehen, und ohne sie kann es überall keine Moralphilosophie geben.“ (Grundlegung zur Metaphysik der Sitten. Vorrede.) Denn, wie jede Religion auf Erden, indem sie Moralität vorschreibt, solche nicht auf sich beruhen läßt, sondern ihr eine Stütze giebt an der Dogmatik, deren Hauptzweck gerade dies ist; so muß in der Philosophie das ethische Fundament, welches es auch sei, selbst wieder seinen Anhaltspunkt und seine Stütze haben an irgend einer Metaphysik, d. h. an der gegebenen Erklärung der Welt und des Daseyns überhaupt; indem der letzte und wahre Aufschluß über das innere Wesen des Ganzen der Dinge nothwendig eng zusammenhangen muß mit dem über die ethische Bedeutung des menschlichen Handelns, und jedenfalls Dasjenige, was als Fundament der Moralität aufgestellt wird, wenn es nicht ein bloßer abstrakter Satz, der, ohne Anhalt in der realen Welt, frei in der Luft schwebt, seyn darf, irgend eine, entweder in der objektiven Welt, oder im menschlichen Bewußtseyn gelegene Thatsache seyn muß, die, als solche, selbst wieder nur Phänomen seyn kann und folglich, wie alle Phänomene der Welt, einer ferneren Erklärung bedarf, welche dann von der Metaphysik gefordert wird. Ueberhaupt ist die Philosophie so sehr ein zusammenhängendes Ganzes, daß es unmöglich ist, irgend einen Theil derselben erschöpfend darzulegen, ohne alles Uebrige mitzugeben. Daher sagt Plato ganz richtig: Ψυχῆς οὖν φύσιν ἀξίως λόγου κατανοῆσαι οἴει δυνατὸν εἶναι, ἄνευ τῆς τοῦ ὅλου φύσεως; (Animae vero naturam absque totius natura sufficienter cognosci posse existimas? — Phaedr., p. 371, Bip.) Metaphysik der Natur, Metaphysik der Sitten und Metaphysik des Schönen setzen sich wechselseitig voraus und vollenden erst in ihrem Zusammenhange die Erklärung des Wesens der Dinge und des Daseyns überhaupt. Daher, wer eine von diesen dreien bis auf ihren letzten Grund durchgeführt hätte, zugleich die andern in seine Erklärung mit hineingezogen haben müßte; gleichwie, wer von irgend einem Dinge in der Welt ein erschöpfendes, bis auf den letzten Grund klares Verständniß hätte, auch die ganze übrige Welt vollkommen verstanden haben würde.
Von einer gegebenen und als wahr angenommenen Metaphysik aus, würde man auf synthetischem Wege zum Fundament der Ethik gelangen; wodurch dieses selbst von unten aufgebaut seyn würde, folglich die Ethik fest gestützt aufträte. Hingegen bei der durch die Aufgabe nothwendig gemachten Sonderung der Ethik von aller Metaphysik, bleibt nichts übrig, als das analytische Verfahren, welches von Thatsachen, entweder der äußern Erfahrung, oder des Bewußtseyns ausgeht. Diese letztern kann es zwar auf ihre letzte Wurzel im Gemüthe des Menschen zurückführen, welche dann aber als Grundfaktum, als Urphänomen, stehen bleiben muß, ohne weiter auf irgend etwas zurückgeführt zu werden; wodurch denn die ganze Erklärung eine bloß psychologische bleibt. Höchstens kann noch accessorisch ihr Zusammenhang mit irgend einer allgemeinen metaphysischen Grundansicht angedeutet werden. Hingegen würde jenes Grundfaktum, jenes ethische Urphänomen, selbst wieder begründet werden können, wenn man, die Metaphysik zuerst abhandelnd, aus ihr, synthetisch verfahrend, die Ethik ableiten dürfte. Dies hieße aber ein vollständiges System der Philosophie aufstellen; wodurch die Gränze der gestellten Frage weit überschritten würde. Ich bin also genöthigt, die Frage innerhalb der Gränzen zu beantworten, welche sie, durch ihre Vereinzelung, selbst gezogen hat.
Und nun endlich noch wird das Fundament, auf welches ich die Ethik zu stellen beabsichtige, sehr schmal ausfallen: wodurch von dem Vielen, was an den Handlungen der Menschen legal, billigungs- und lobenswerth ist, nur der kleinere Theil als aus rein moralischen Bewegungsgründen entsprungen sich ergeben, der größere Theil aber anderartigen Motiven anheimfallen wird. Dies befriedigt weniger und fällt nicht so glänzend in die Augen, wie etwan ein kategorischer Imperativ, der stets zu Befehl steht, um selbst wieder zu befehlen, was gethan und was gelassen werden soll; anderer, materieller Moralbegründungen gar zu geschweigen. Da bleibt mir nichts übrig, als an den Spruch des Koheleth (4, 6) zu erinnern: „Es ist besser eine Hand voll mit Ruhe, denn beide Fäuste voll mit Mühe und Eitelkeit.“ Des Aechten, Probehaltigen und Unzerstörbaren ist in aller Erkenntniß stets wenig; wie die Erzstufe wenige Unzen Gold in einem Centner Stein verlarvt enthält. Aber ob man nun wirklich mit mir den sichern Besitz dem großen, das wenige Gold, welches im Tiegel zurückbleibt, der ausgedehnten Masse, die herangeschleppt wurde, vorziehen, — oder ob man vielmehr mich beschuldigen werde, der Moral ihr Fundament mehr entzogen als gegeben zu haben, sofern ich nachweise, daß die legalen und lobenswerthen Handlungen der Menschen oft gar keinen und meistens nur einen kleinen Theil rein moralischen Gehalts besitzen, im Uebrigen aber auf Motiven beruhen, deren Wirksamkeit zuletzt auf den Egoismus des Handelnden zurückzuführen ist; — dies Alles muß ich dahingestellt seyn lassen, nicht ohne Besorgniß, ja, mit Resignation; da ich schon längst dem Ritter von Zimmermann beistimme, wenn er sagt: „Denke im Herzen, bis in den Tod, nichts sei in der Welt so selten, wie ein guter Richter.“ (Ueber die Einsamkeit, Th. I, Cap. 3, S. 93.) Ja, ich sehe schon im Geiste meine Darstellung, welche für alles ächte, freiwillige Rechtthun, für alle Menschenliebe, allen Edelmuth, wo sie je gefunden seyn mögen, nur eine so schmale Basis aufzuweisen hat, neben denen der Kompetitoren, welche breite, jeder beliebigen Last gewachsene und dabei jedem Zweifler, mit einem drohenden Seitenblick auf seine eigene Moralität, ins Gewissen zu schiebende Fundamente der Moral zuversichtlich hinstellen, — so arm und kleinlaut dastehen, wie vor dem König Lear die Kordelia, mit der wortarmen Versicherung ihrer pflichtmäßigen Gesinnung, neben den überschwänglichen Betheuerungen ihrer beredteren Schwestern. — Da bedarf es wohl einer Herzstärkung durch einen gelehrten Waidspruch, wie: magna est vis veritatis, et praevalebit, — der doch den, der gelebt und geleistet hat, nicht sehr mehr ermuthigt. Inzwischen will ich es ein Mal mit der Wahrheit wagen: denn was mir begegnet, wird ihr mit begegnet seyn.
Musean translation
Machine-assisted Musean translation made directly from the complete 1860 German edition, including its quotations, author’s notes, prize question and judgment. Source-language reviewed.
I. Introduction.
On the Problem.
A prize question posed by the Royal Dutch Society at Haarlem in 1810 and answered by J. C. F. Meister—"Why do philosophers differ so greatly in the first principles of morality, yet agree in the conclusions and duties they derive from those principles?"—was a very easy task compared with the present one. For:
1) The Royal Society's present question aims at nothing less than the objectively true foundation of ethics, and consequently of moral worth as well. It is an academy that raises the question. As such, it wants no exhortation to integrity and virtue directed toward practical ends, supported by reasons whose plausibility is heightened and whose weakness is concealed, as happens in addresses to the public. Rather, since an academy recognizes only theoretical, not practical, ends, it wants a purely philosophical account—independent, that is, of all established precepts, all unproved assumptions, and therefore all metaphysical or even mythical entities posited as real—an objective, unveiled, naked account of the ultimate ground of all morally good conduct.—But this is a problem whose immense difficulty is attested not only by the philosophers of every age and country who have blunted their teeth on it, but also by all the gods of East and West, who owe their very existence to it. If it is solved on this occasion, then the Royal Society will certainly not have spent its gold badly.
2) Moreover, theoretical inquiry into the foundation of morality suffers from the peculiar disadvantage that it can easily be taken for an undermining of that foundation, which might bring down the building itself. Here practical concerns lie so close to theoretical ones that their well-intentioned zeal can scarcely be kept from untimely interference. Not everyone can clearly distinguish a purely theoretical search for objective truth, detached from every interest, even the moral and practical, from a sacrilegious attack on the heart's sacred convictions. Anyone who sets to work here must therefore always keep this thought before him for encouragement: nothing stands farther from human activity and bustle, or from the marketplace's tumult and noise, than the academy's sanctuary, withdrawn into profound stillness, where no sound from outside may enter and no deity has a statue except sublime, naked truth alone.
The conclusion from these two premises is that I must be allowed complete freedom of speech, together with the right to doubt everything; and that if, even on these terms, I accomplish anything real in this matter, much will have been accomplished.
But other difficulties still confront me. In addition, the Royal Society requires the foundation of ethics to be set out on its own, in isolation, in a short monograph, and thus apart from its connection with the complete system of any philosophy—that is, with metaphysics proper. This must not only make the task harder but necessarily make its fulfillment imperfect. Christian Wolf already says: "The darkness in practical philosophy is dispelled only when the light of metaphysics shines upon it" (Phil. pract., P. II. §. 28), and Kant: "Metaphysics must come first, and without it there can be no moral philosophy at all." (Groundwork of the Metaphysics of Morals. Preface.) For just as every religion on earth, when it prescribes morality, does not leave morality to stand on its own but supports it with dogma, whose chief purpose is precisely this, so in philosophy the ethical foundation, whatever it may be, must itself find its anchor and support in some metaphysics—that is, in the account given of the world and of existence in general. The final and true explanation of the inner nature of things as a whole must necessarily be closely connected with the explanation of the ethical significance of human action. In any event, whatever is put forward as the foundation of morality, if it is not to be a mere abstract proposition floating freely in the air without a foothold in the real world, must be some fact located either in the objective world or in human consciousness. As such, it can itself be only a phenomenon and consequently, like all phenomena in the world, requires a further explanation, which must then be sought from metaphysics. Indeed, philosophy is so thoroughly an interconnected whole that it is impossible to give an exhaustive account of any part without including all the rest. Plato therefore says quite rightly: "Do you think it possible to understand the nature of the soul adequately without understanding the nature of the whole?" ("But do you think the nature of the soul can be sufficiently known without the nature of the whole?"—Phaedr., p. 371, Bip.) The metaphysics of nature, the metaphysics of morals, and the metaphysics of beauty presuppose one another, and only in their connection do they complete the explanation of the nature of things and of existence in general. Anyone who had pursued one of these three to its ultimate ground would therefore necessarily have drawn the others into his explanation as well; just as anyone who had an exhaustive understanding of any one thing in the world, clear down to its ultimate ground, would also have understood the whole rest of the world completely.
Starting from a given metaphysics accepted as true, one would arrive at the foundation of ethics by the synthetic method. This foundation would itself have been built from the ground up, and ethics would accordingly stand firmly supported. But since the question requires ethics to be separated from all metaphysics, nothing remains but the analytical method, which begins with facts either of external experience or of consciousness. It can indeed trace the latter back to their deepest root in the human mind; but that root must then be left standing as a fundamental fact, a primal phenomenon, without being traced back to anything further. The entire explanation thus remains merely psychological. At most, its connection with some general metaphysical view can be indicated as a supplement. That fundamental fact, that primal ethical phenomenon, could, by contrast, itself be given a foundation if one were permitted to treat metaphysics first and derive ethics from it by the synthetic method. But this would mean setting out a complete system of philosophy, far exceeding the limits of the question posed. I am therefore compelled to answer the question within the limits it has itself drawn by being isolated in this way.
Finally, the foundation on which I intend to place ethics will prove very narrow. Of the many human actions that conform to law and deserve approval and praise, only the smaller part will turn out to spring from purely moral incentives; the larger part will be attributable to motives of another kind. This is less satisfying and less dazzling to the eye than, say, a categorical imperative that is always at your command, ready in turn to command what is to be done and what left undone—not to mention other, substantive foundations of morality. All I can do here is recall the saying of Ecclesiastes (4, 6): "Better one handful with peace than both fists full with toil and vanity." In all knowledge, what is genuine, stands the test, and cannot be destroyed is always little; just as a sample of ore conceals a few ounces of gold in a hundredweight of stone. But whether people will indeed join me in preferring secure possession to great possessions, the little gold left in the crucible to the great mass hauled in—or will instead accuse me of having taken away morality's foundation rather than given it one, insofar as I show that human actions which conform to law and deserve praise often contain no purely moral substance at all, and usually only a small amount, while otherwise resting on motives whose efficacy can ultimately be traced back to the agent's egoism—all this I must leave open, not without apprehension, indeed with resignation. For I have long agreed with the knight von Zimmermann when he says: "Hold this thought in your heart until death: nothing in the world is so rare as a good judge." (On Solitude, Th. I, Cap. 3, S. 93.) Indeed, I already see in my mind's eye how poor and subdued my account will look, with only so narrow a basis to offer for all genuine, freely chosen right conduct, all human kindness, all nobility of heart, wherever they may be found, beside the accounts of my competitors. They confidently erect broad foundations of morality, capable of bearing any burden and, with a threatening sidelong glance at the doubter's own morality, of being pressed upon his conscience. My account will stand beside theirs like Cordelia before King Lear, with her few words affirming her dutiful devotion beside the extravagant protestations of her more eloquent sisters.—Here one surely needs to fortify the heart with a learned hunter's motto, such as: "Great is the power of truth, and it will prevail"—though this no longer gives much encouragement to anyone who has lived and accomplished something. Still, I will venture out with truth for once: for whatever happens to me will have happened to it as well.
Plain English translation
Independent, machine-assisted Plain English translation made directly from the complete 1860 German edition and its embedded passages. Source-language reviewed.
I. Introduction.
About the Problem.
A prize question set by the Royal Dutch Society in Haarlem in 1810 and answered by J. C. F. Meister asked: “Why do philosophers differ so much about the first principles of morality, yet agree about the conclusions and duties they derive from those principles?” That was a very easy task compared with this one. For:
1) The Royal Society's present question asks for nothing less than the objectively true foundation of moral philosophy and therefore of morality itself. An academy is asking the question. As an academy, it does not want a practical appeal to honesty and virtue, backed by reasons whose plausibility is emphasized and whose weakness is hidden, as happens in talks for the public. Its aims as an academy are theoretical, not practical. It therefore wants a purely philosophical account of the ultimate basis of all morally good conduct: an objective, uncovered, naked account, independent of all established decrees, all unproved assumptions, and thus all metaphysical or mythical entities assumed to exist. But this problem is extraordinarily difficult. The evidence is not just that philosophers of every time and country have blunted their teeth on it. Even all the gods of East and West owe their existence to it. So if it is solved on this occasion, the Royal Society will certainly have spent its gold well.
2) A theoretical investigation of morality's foundation also faces a peculiar disadvantage. It can easily be mistaken for an attempt to undermine that foundation, which might bring down the building itself. Practical concerns lie so close to theoretical ones here that their well-meaning zeal is hard to keep from interfering at the wrong time. Not everyone can clearly distinguish a purely theoretical search for objective truth, detached from every interest, even a moral and practical one, from a wicked attack on deeply held, sacred convictions. So anyone who sets to work here must always keep something in mind for encouragement. Nothing is further from people's activities and dealings, or from the bustle and noise of the marketplace, than the academy's sanctuary, withdrawn into deep silence. No sound from outside may enter it, and no gods have statues there except exalted, naked truth alone.
The conclusion from these two premises is that I must be allowed complete freedom to speak openly, along with the right to doubt everything. And if, even with that freedom, I accomplish anything real in this matter, it will be a great deal.
But other difficulties stand in my way. The Royal Society also asks for the foundation of ethics to be presented on its own, separately, in a short monograph. That means taking it out of its connection with a whole philosophical system, that is, with metaphysics proper. This must not only make the task harder but necessarily make the result incomplete. Christian Wolf already says: “The darkness in practical philosophy is not dispelled unless the light of metaphysics shines on it” (Phil. pract., P. II. §. 28). And Kant says: “Metaphysics must come first, and without it there can be no moral philosophy at all.” (Groundwork of the Metaphysics of Morals. Preface.) Every religion on earth, when it prescribes morality, does not leave it to stand on its own. It supports it with a body of doctrine whose main purpose is precisely that. In the same way, whatever foundation ethics has in philosophy must itself find support and a point of attachment in some metaphysics: in the explanation given of the world and existence in general. The final, true account of the inner nature of all things must necessarily be closely connected with the account of the ethical meaning of human action. In any case, what is proposed as morality's foundation cannot be a mere abstract proposition floating freely in the air, with no support in the real world. It must be some fact found either in the objective world or in human consciousness. As such, it can itself only be a phenomenon. Like all phenomena in the world, it therefore needs a further explanation, which must then be sought from metaphysics. Philosophy as a whole is so interconnected that it is impossible to give an exhaustive account of any part without including all the rest. So Plato is quite right to say: “Do you think it is possible to understand the nature of the soul adequately without understanding the nature of the whole?” (“Do you really think the nature of the soul can be known sufficiently without the nature of the whole?”—Phaedr., p. 371, Bip.) The metaphysics of nature, the metaphysics of morals, and the metaphysics of beauty presuppose one another. Only together do they complete the explanation of the nature of things and of existence in general. So anyone who had followed one of these three down to its ultimate basis would necessarily have drawn the others into the explanation too. Similarly, anyone with an exhaustive understanding of any one thing in the world, clear down to its ultimate basis, would also have understood the whole remaining world completely.
Starting from a given metaphysics accepted as true, we could reach the foundation of ethics by a synthetic method. We would then have built that foundation from the bottom up, and ethics would stand firmly supported. But this task requires us to separate ethics from all metaphysics. That leaves only the analytic method, which starts from facts of either external experience or consciousness. It can indeed trace these latter facts back to their ultimate root in the human mind. But that root must then remain as a basic fact, a primary phenomenon, without being traced back to anything further. The whole explanation thus remains merely psychological. At most, we can add an indication of its connection with some general, basic metaphysical view. By contrast, that basic fact, that primary ethical phenomenon, could itself be given a foundation if we were allowed to discuss metaphysics first and then derive ethics from it by a synthetic method. But that would mean setting out a complete system of philosophy, going far beyond the bounds of the question. So I am forced to answer the question within the limits it has set for itself by isolating its subject.
Finally, the foundation on which I intend to place ethics will turn out to be very narrow. Of the many human actions that conform to the law and deserve approval and praise, only a smaller part will prove to come from purely moral motives. The greater part will be assigned to motives of other kinds. This is less satisfying and less impressive than, say, a categorical imperative, always ready to take orders so it can itself give orders about what to do and what to avoid—not to mention other foundations of morality based on its content. Here I can only recall the saying of Ecclesiastes (4, 6): “One handful with peace is better than both fists full with toil and emptiness.” In all knowledge there is always little that is genuine, stands the test, and cannot be destroyed, just as a lump of ore hides a few ounces of gold in a hundredweight of stone. Will people actually join me in preferring a secure possession to a large one, the little gold left in the crucible to the great mass dragged in? Or will they instead accuse me of taking away morality's foundation rather than giving it one? For I show that people's lawful and praiseworthy actions often have no purely moral content at all and usually have only a small share of it. For the rest, they rest on motives whose effectiveness can ultimately be traced back to the agent's egoism. I must leave all this open, not without anxiety, indeed with resignation. I have long agreed with the knight von Zimmermann when he says: “Keep this thought in your heart until death: nothing in the world is as rare as a good judge.” (On Solitude, Th. I, Cap. 3, S. 93.) In fact, I can already picture my account, with only so narrow a basis to offer for all genuine, voluntary right action, all love of humanity, and all noble-mindedness, wherever they may be found. Beside it stand my competitors' accounts. They confidently set up broad foundations for morality, able to bear any load, and able to be pressed on any doubter's conscience with a threatening sideways glance at his own morality. Beside them my account looks as poor and subdued as Cordelia before King Lear, with her few words assuring him of her dutiful feelings, beside the extravagant declarations of her more eloquent sisters. That certainly calls for a scholarly hunter's motto to strengthen the heart, such as: “Great is the power of truth, and it will prevail.” Yet that no longer gives much encouragement to someone who has lived and accomplished things. Still, I will venture out with the truth for once. For whatever happens to me will have happened to it too.
About this section
Section 1 is part of On the Basis of Morality by Arthur Schopenhauer. This page sets the German original beside 2 direct-source translations, so any line can be checked against the source. It is section 2 of 24 in the work, which is kept in the European tradition.
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