The source of good and of bad character, so far as we have any real knowledge of it, lies in this, that with the bad character the thought of the external world, and especially of the living creatures in it, is accompanied—­all the more, the greater the resemblance between them and the individual self—­by a constant feeling of not I, not I, not I.

Contrarily, with the good character (both being assumed to exist in a high degree) the same thought has for its accompaniment, like a fundamental bass, a constant feeling of I, I, I.  From this spring benevolence and a disposition to help all men, and at the same time a cheerful, confident and tranquil frame of mind, the opposite of that which accompanies the bad character.

The difference, however, is only phenomenal, although it is a difference which is radical.  But now we come to the hardest of all problems:  How is it that, while the will, as the thing-in-itself, is identical, and from a metaphysical point of view one and the same in all its manifestations, there is nevertheless such an enormous difference between one character and another?—­the malicious, diabolical wickedness of the one, and set off against it, the goodness of the other, showing all the more conspicuously.  How is it that we get a Tiberius, a Caligula, a Carcalla, a Domitian, a Nero; and on the other hand, the Antonines, Titus, Hadrian, Nerva?  How is it that among the animals, nay, in a higher species, in individual animals, there is a like difference?—­the malignity of the cat most strongly developed in the tiger; the spite of the monkey; on the other hand, goodness, fidelity and love in the dog and the elephant.  It is obvious that the principle of wickedness in the brute is the same as in man.

We may to some extent modify the difficulty of the problem by observing that the whole difference is in the end only one of degree.  In every living creature, the fundamental propensities and instincts all exist, but they exist in very different degrees and proportions.  This, however, is not enough to explain the facts.

We must fall back upon the intellect and its relation to the will; it is the only explanation that remains.  A man’s intellect, however, by no means stands in any direct and obvious relation with the goodness of his character.  We may, it is true, discriminate between two kinds of intellect:  between understanding, as the apprehension of relation in accordance with the Principle of Sufficient Reason, and cognition, a faculty akin to genius, which acts more directly, is independent of this law, and passes beyond the Principle of Individuation.  The latter is the faculty which apprehends Ideas, and it is the faculty which has to do with morality.  But even this explanation leaves much to be desired. Fine minds are seldom fine souls was the correct observation of Jean Paul; although they are never the contrary.  Lord Bacon, who, to be sure, was less a fine soul than a fine mind, was a scoundrel.