CORNELL UNIVERSITY LIBRARY GIFT OF Sage ochool of Philosophy V.I 260 Cornell University Library The original of this book is in the Cornell University Library. There are no known copyright restrictions in the United States on the use of the text. http://www.archive.org/cletails/cu31924019527260 THE CEITICAL PHILOSOPHY OP IMMANUEL KANT THE CRITICAL PHILOSOPHY OF IMMANUEL KA:N^T BY EDWAKD CAIED, LL.D. PROFEaSOE OF MORAL PHILOSOPHY IN THE tJNIVERSITY OF GLASGOW LATE FELLOW AND TUTOR OF MERTON COLLEGE, OXFORD IN TWO VOLUMES VOL. I NEW YORK MACMILLAN AND CO. 1889 Cornell University The f Sage School of Philosophy Libraxy DEDICATED TO THE MEMORY OF GEOEGE EANKINE LUKE, LATE SENIOR STUDENT AND TUTOR IN CHRIST CHUBOE, OXFORD. lo veggio ben ohe giammai non si sazia Nostro intelletto, se'l Ver non lo illustra, Di fuor dal qual nessun vero si spazia. Posasi in esso, come fiera in lustra, Tosto che giunto I'ha ; e giugner puoUo ; Se non, ciascun disio sarebbe/n/s^ra. Nasoe per quello, a guisa di rampoUo, Appi^ del vero il dubbio ; ed b natura Ch'al sommo pinge noi di oollo in coUo. Dante, Paradiso, iv. 123-32. PREFACE. The object of this book is to give a connected view of the Critical Philosophy, showing the relations of the three Critiques to each other, and to the other works of Kant which may be regarded as illustrations or developments of his main argument. The first part, on the Critique of Pure Reason, deals with the same subject as my former work, entitled The Philosophy of Kant, but, except in a few passages, it is not a reproduction of it. Since the date of its publication, many important contribu- tions to the study of Kant have been made in Germany and other countries. I wish especially to express my indebtedness to the writings of Dr. Vaihinger, Benno Erdmann, Cohen, Paulsen, Ar- noldt, Stadtler, Staudinger, and Eiehl ; also of the late Professor Green and Professor Watson. In particular. Dr. Erdmann's publi- cation of the Beflexion^n Kant's has thrown much new light on the development of the Kantian philosophy, and Dr. Vaihinger's acute statement of the main Kantian airoplai in his Com- mentary is full of instruction and suggestion for every student. I have sometimes given references to these and other writers ; but often I have found it impossible to recall or to trace what I owe to them, and must content myself in the main with this general acknowledgment of my obligations. I also viii PREFACE. owe much to the criticisms of my former book by various writers, particularly by Dr. Hutchison Stirling, by Mr. Balfour, and by Dr. Vaihinger ; and I have attempted to meet them by giving a more carefuf and accurate statement of Kant's argu- ment, and a fuller and more thorough estimate of its bearing and value. In this way I have been led, among other things, greatly to extend and modify my view of the Principles of Pure Understanding. The most important cause of the changes made in my former representation of the Kantian doctrine has, however, been the continued study of Kant himself, carried on mainly with the view of tracing out the connexion of his different works. For the very attempt to treat the Kantian philosophy as a whole, and to show its unity and the method of its development, made it necessary to restate the argument of the iirst Critique. Thus, in the chapter on the Postulates of Empirical Thought, I have entered at considerable length into the alterations made in the second edition of the Critique, and I have endeavoured to discover their causes. In doing so, I came to the conclusion that these alterations are important, not, as has been main- tained by Schopenhauer and others, because they show a tendency in Kant to recoil to the point of view of the ordi- nary common sense Eealism from an idealistic position similar to that of Berkeley ; but because they indicate his progress towards an Idealism in which the subjectivity of Berkeley's theory is corrected. Here, in fact, we have one indication among others that, as Kant advanced with his work, the ulti- mate results of it came more clearly within his view, and even had a certain reactive effect on his conception of the earlier parts. Yet, on the other hand, we have to remember that the PREFACE. IX work of Criticism was from the first conceived by Kant as a whole, though in its execution it was divided into a number of separate Critiques. The effect of this was apparently to give undue prominence to special questions, and to hide for a time their relation to other elements in the great problem which Kant had set himself to solve. This concentration upon a particular point has even at times affected Kant's own point of view, producing a verbal contradiction between the statements which he made at different stages of his work. But, in spite of such inconsistencies, and of the reservations and cautions with which he surrounds himself at every step in his progress, I have attempted to show that there is an unbroken con- tinuity in the movement of Kant's thought, and that the lesson of his philosophy as a whole is definite and self- consistent. That lesson, however, he did not himself fully understand. He suffered for his position as the discoverer of a new way of dealing with the problems of philosophy. He had often to invent his own language, or to use old terms in new senses ; or, rather, we might say, he had to carry his readers through a series of changes which collectively amounted to a complete revolution of thought, and in doing so, he had again and again to strain the language of a doctrine already received to inake it express a new idea. Urged forward by a strong tendency to the ideal, and by an original power of speculative insight which was continually fertile of new views of truth, and held back by a mind deeply imbued with the spirit of a sceptical age and carefully trained in the school of Newtonian science, Kant had a harder struggle with himself than he could possibly have had with any critic or opponent of his philosophy. And, while he X PEEFACB. expressed the result of his thought at each stage of its develop- ment in the words that seemed most suitable, he seldom turned back to compare them with what he had said before. It might, without much risk of contradiction^ be contended that he never repeated himself without introducing some new modifying thought, which somewhat changed the aspect of his previous statements. To understand him, therefore, is not simply to combine different texts which exhibit the different aspects of an unchanged thought. It is to detect a consistent stream of tendency which, through all obstruction, is steadily moving in one direction; to discern the unity of one mind which, through all changes of form and expression, is growing towards a more complete consciousness of itself. In trying to discharge the task of a critic of Kant, it is difficult not to seem " as if we were impertinently trying to ' pull his work to pieces,' " (as Green remarked in relation to his own criticism of Locke,) or to be ungratefully seeking an easy victory over him from the vantage-ground of a later time — a vantage- ground which he himself has helped to provide for us. But, as Goethe has said, the main homage which a great man exacts from those who follow him is the ever-renewed attempt to understand him. And no one who recognises that progress in speculative philosophy is a progress to self-consciousness, and that such progress always involves a conflict between the con- scious and the unconscious, even in the minds of those who are its most prominent representatives, will fail to see that the only valuable criticism is that which turns what is latent in the thought of a great writer against what 'is explicit, and thereby makes his works a stepping-stone to results which he did not himself attain. It was those who stoned the PREPA.CE. XI prophets that built their sepulchres. Those who really reverenced them, showed it by following the spirit derived from them to new issues. One of the most difficult of the minor points which an English commentator on Kant has to decide is the question of the translation of technical terms. In most cases, owing to the different genius of the language, only a compromise is possible. This difficulty is found even in the most general word, used by Kant for any mental modification whatever, the word Vor- stellung. The term " idea " was employed in this sense by Locke and most English writers on philosophy till a recent date, and it seemed better to continue this usage than to adopt any such formal term as ' representation ' or ' presentation.' The main objection is that the term ' idea ' is employed by Kant himself for another purpose, with distinct reference to its original use by Plato. In this latter sense, wherever there was any need of making the distinction, I have printed Idea with a capital letter. Sometimes I have found it convenient to trans- late Vorstellung by the word ' Consciousness.' Anschauung 1 have generally translated by ' Perception,' rarely by ' Intui- tion,' as the term Intuition seems in English to carry with it associations which are misleading. Sometimes I have used ' Pure Perception,' where the context seemed to require it. Wahrnehmung I have translated by ' Sense-perception,' where- ever, as in the discussion of the Anticipations of Sense- perception, it seemed necessary to call attention to its contrast with Anschauung. For JBegriff I have invariably used ' Con- ception.' In quoting the Critique of Pure Season, I have given refer- ences to the pages of Kant's first and second editions as A and xii PREFACE. B. In most of the German editions and in Prof. Max Mtiller's translation of the Critique, the paging of one or other of these editions is given. In quoting from Kant's other works I have referred to the editions both of Eosenkranz and Hartenstein as R. and H. The proofs of the whole of this book have been read by Professor Jones, of the University College of !N'orth Wales, and a considerable part of them by Mr. John S. Mackenzie, of Trinity College, Cambridge. To both of these gentlemen I have to express my obligations for numerous valuable sugges- tions and criticisms. Univkrsitt of Glasoow, August, 1889. CONTENTS. INTRODUCTION. CHAPTER I. THE IDEA OF CRITICISM. ' The Age of Criticism — Different Uses of the term Criticism— Kant's Definition of it in Distinction from Dogmatism and Scepticism — How Dogmatism leads to Scepticism and Scepticism to Criticism — The Principle of Philo- sophical Criticism — Locke's Idea of it — That it is not Psychological hut Metaphysical — Its Possibility — Objection that we cannot go beyond our own Ideas answered — The Criterion to be found in the Universal Presup- positions of Knowledge — Our Unconsciousness of these Presuppositions Explained — The a priori as the Common Ground of all Consciousness of Objects^ — That the Critical Regress discloses this Ground — That all Science, at its Constitution, presupposes such a Regress — Kant's View that at the Present Day there is a Similar Necessity in the Case of Metaphysic — This Problem opened up by the Modern Advance of Science and the Collision of its Results with the Moral and Religious Consciousness — How this Collision reflects back a Doubt even upon Science — That Science is Hjrpothetioal because Abstract — That this is true even of the so-called Concrete Sciences That Nature is not to be Explained apart from Spirit — That the Highest must Explain the Lowest, and not vice versd — That, therefore, every Advance of Science involves a new Critical Regress — Parallel between Kant's Criticism and the earlier Regress made necessary by the Advance from Mathematical to Physical Principles— Importance of the Modern Problem, and Difficulty of the Antinomy which it Involves— Necessity of * its Solution to avoid absolute Scepticism, . . .Pp. 1-44. xiv CONTENTS. CHAPTER II. KANT'S RELATION TO HIS TIME. HIS LIFE AND CHARACTER. Place of Kant in the History of PhUosophy as the Author of a new Synthesis which put an End to the Age of Enlightenment-General Characteristics of the Enlightenment, its Bad and Good Sides-Its Necessity as a Stage in the Development of Thought-The Protest of the Religious Consciousness in the Age of Enlightenment— Kant's Relation to his Precursors-Defects of his Method due to that Relation— Slowness of his Mental Development— His Relation to P. A. Schultz— Influence of Pietism and of Classical Studies— His Relation to Martin Knutzen— His Scientific Studies— His Life as a private tutor, a Privat Docent, and a Professor— Political Interests— The Seven Years' War, the American War, and the French Revolution— His Philosophical Works— His Character— Heine's Account of him— His Method in Teaching— Three Periods in his Mental Development, Pp. 45-67. CHAPTER III. KANT'S PRECURSORS— DESCARTES — SPINOZA — LEIBNIZ AND WOLFF— THE LATER WOLFFIAN SCHOOL AND MARTIN KNUTZEN. The Idea of Evolution as a Key to the Philosophies of the Past, and their Con- nection with the Present — That it is not used by Kant, but helps us to understand him — His Philosophy a Result of the Principle of the Refor- mation, as it shows itself in Opposition to the Mediaeval Church and the Scholastic Philosophy — Mode of reconciling Subjective Freedom and Objective Truth adopted by Luther and Bacon — Subsequent Tendency to dwell on the Subjective — Descartes' Cogito ergo mm — His Transition from the Self to God by Removal of the Negative Element present in the Finite — That his Principles lead logically to Spinozism — Spinoza's Hesita- tion between the Negation of all Difference and its Reassertion in God — Reassertion of the Finite in the Eighteenth Century — That its Subjec- tive Individualism leads to Scepticism, as against which Kant reasserts the Universal as presupposed in the Particular — That Leibniz prepares the way by his Monads, which ideally include, really exclude, the World — ^The Pre-Established Harmony — The Scale of Being — Man's Place in it — Rela- tion of Sense and Thought — The Principle of Sufficient Reason — Incon- sistencies of the Leibnizian Philosophy — Wolff's Attempt to Reduce it to a consistent Individualism — His implicit Denial of the Constitutive Power of Reason — The Pre-Established Harmony, reduced to a Harmony of Body and Soul — Baumgarten's Modification of it — Knutzen's Attempt to unite Leibniz and Newton, ..... Pp. 68-lO.S. CONTENTS. XV CHAPTER IV. THE PRB-CRITICAL PERIOD IN KANT'S MENTAL HISTORY. Kant's Early Essays on Physics — His Attempts to Reoouo'ile Descartes with Leibniz and Leibniz with Newton — That he starts, like Leibniz, with the Individual Substance or Monad, but admits the Negative and Positive Relativity of the Monads — His first Metaphysical Treatise, the Dilucidatio Nova (1755) — The Ratio antecedenter determinans, and the Ratio conseque.nte.r determinans — The Real and the Ideal Ground — Question whether there is a Real Ground for Everything — That there can be no such Ground for God — Kant's Modification of the Ontological Argument — That there is a Real Ground for Changes in the Einite World — Principles of Succession and Co-existence — Kant's Compromise between Individualism and Pantheism — His Imperfect Development of the Idea of the Relativity of Individual Substances — His Approximation to the Spinozistic Idea of God — Import of the Change of Form in the Ontological Argument — Sum- mary of the Dilucidatio Nova — Break with Wolffian Philosophy in the Works published in 1762-3 — The False Suhtilty of the Syllogistic Figures — That it shows the Movement of Thought to be purely Analytic, and carries us back to many Indemonstrable Principles — The only Possible Basis for a Proof of the Being of God — The Question whether Existence can be included in the Conception of an Object — Difference of Absolute and Relative Position, and of Reality and Possibility — That God is for Kant the Unity of Reality and Possibility, Being and Thought, but not the Unity of all Affirmative Predicates — Distinction of Logical and Real Negation — Essay towards the Introduction of the Idea of Negative Quantity into Philosophy — Real Position = Negation of an Opposite Position — The World as a Unity of Opposites — The Analytic Movement of Thought con- trasted with the Synthetic Movement of Knowledge — Question whether Kant in this Essay follows Hume — That Kant does not yet deal with the General Problem of Causality — Transition to the Problem, whether the Synthesis, Impossible to Thought, is Possible to Sense— Treatise Ore tlie Eoidence oftlie Principles of Natural Theology and Morals— BiSerence between the Methods of Philosophy and Mathematics— Agreement of Kant with Locke's Doctrine as to Mathematics — Kant's View as to the Relation of Mechanism and Teleology — Summary of the Results reached by Kant in 1764 — Prominence given to the Question of Method— Essay Ore the Dreams of a Ghost-Seer, as illustrated hy the Dreams of Metaphysic (1766) The Case for Spiritualism and for the Empirical Rejection of Spir- itualism—Critical Solution of the Problem— Philosophy conceived as the Theory of the Limits of Knowledge— Experience as the Source of Know- ledge—Morality asserted to be independent of Metaphysics— Relation of the Critical Empiricism of this Essay to the later Critical Philosophy- Mendelssohn's Objections and Kant's Reply— End of the Pre-Oritical Period about 1768 Pp- 104-160. xvi CONTENTS. CHAPTER V. THE DISSERTATION OF 1770, AND KANT'S STUDIES EOR THE CRITIQUE OF PURE REASON IN THE YEARS 1770-81. Kant's Reconciling Tendency and his Polemical Method — Kant's Letter to Garve on his Philosophical Awakening by the Antinomies of Reason — Re- lation of the Polemical Method to Criticism — Essay On the Rational Basis for the Distinction of Regions in Space (1768) — Priority of Space Involves its Apriority as a Condition of Perception — Dissertation on the Form and Principles of the Sensible and Intelligible World (1770) — The World as Per- ceived, and the World as Conceived — Opposition of Sense and Thought, of the Phenomenal and Noumenal Worlds — Subjectivity of Sense and Objectivity of Intelligence — Distinction of the Form and Matter of Sense — Distinction of the Logical and Real Use of the Intelligence — General Conception of the Absolute Reality as it Exists for the Intelligence — That it cannot be Realised in Particular through Sense — That, nevertheless, the Things of Sense also are Objects of Knowledge — Proof that Time and Space are Forms of Sense — Nature of the Priority of Time and Space — Their Continuity — Comparison of the Newtonian and Leibnizian Ideas of Time and Space— Difference and Relation of Time and Space — That Pure Conceptions are Necessary for the Determination of Objects in Relation to each other as Parts of one World — Kant's View of the Results of the Dis- sertation — Tliat he Explicitly Determines the Perceived World as Pheno- menal from the Point of View of Intelligence, but also Implicitly Condemns the Conceived World as Unreal from the Point of View of Perception— Source of this Difficulty— Two Ways of Solving it by the two Methods of Abstraction and Concretion — That Kant seems to Adopt the Former, but that his Results often Imply the Latter— Criticism Possible only on the Latter Method— How, from this Point of View, the Relativity of the Object to the Subject must be understood— Differ- ences between the Dissertation and the Critique of Pure Reasoji— Kant's Lfetter to Herz (1772) — Question whether Pure Conceptions can be Objectively Valid— Unsatisfactoriness of the Dogmatic Answers —Answer of the Critique Anticipated— Kant's Position at this Time — Question, when Hume broke Kant's Dogmatic Slumber — Hmne's Discussion of Causality, and Kant's Understanding of it —Kant's Search for a Systematic List of the Categories— That he rejects Aristotle's List, and derives another List from the Logical Analysis of Judgment— Substitution of the Self for God as the Principle of Unity in Knowledge— Relation of the Dogmatic and Critical Explanation of Knowledgei-Elemeut of Truth in the Dogmatic Explanation- Sense in which Kant admits an Ultimstte Unity of Thought and Being— His use of the Judgment and the Syllogism, as Analysed by Formal Logic, in the Discovery of the Categories and the Ideas respectively— Relation of Synthetic to Analytic Judgment, and of Synthetic to Analytic Syllogism —Kant's View of the Imperfection of the Synthetic Judgment, and the Failure of the Synthetic Syllogism— Source of the Kantian Opposition of Thought to Knowledge— Summary Account of the Development of the Critical Philosophy before the Critique of Pure Reason, Pp. 161-226. CONTENTS. xvii BOOK I. THE CRITIQUE OF PURE REASON. CHAPTER I. THE PEOBLEM OE THE CRITIQUE OE PURE REASON. Different Views of the Problem— That the Critique of Pure Reason was origin- • ally part of a Larger Scheme, which LQcluded the Suhjeots of the other Oritiqms— Results of the Aesthetic, the Analytic, and the Dialectic — Relation of the Critique of Pure Reason to the other Critiques — Eirst Form of the Problem of the Critique of Pure i?easo»— That Doubt of the a priori Principles of Knowledge arises through their being used beyond the Limits of Experience — Necessity thence arising that the Conditions of their Validity should be Discussed — Limitations of the Doubt which the Critique seeks to.Remove — That Kant seeks to Limit a priori Knowledge to Experience, in order that he may set free what is beyond Experience from Empirical Conditions — Question whether there is any Change in Kant's View of the Relation of Knowledge to Thought in his Later Works — That the Problem of Kant is itself Dialectical^That in its Second Form it is a Proof that there is a priori Knowledge, and that through it alone a posteriori Knowledge is Possible — That Kant's View of Thought as Op- posed to Knowledge Limits his Argument — The Distinction of Analytic and Synthetic Judgments as Suggested in Different Ways by Locke and by Wolff— ^Influence of Hume — That neither Thought nor Sense by itself Explains S^thesis — The Difficulty of Mathematical Synthesis as Treated by Locke and by Hume — Relations of Ideas and Matters of Fact — Kant's Understanding of Hume — His View of Mathematical and of Dynamical .Synthesis, their Agreement and Difference — A priori Synthesis as Treated in the Aesthetic and the Analytic respectively — The Unity of the Self as Manifesting Itself in the a priori Principles of Synthesis — That the Analytic Unity of Thought cannot Supply such Principles, though it Furnishes a Clue to them — Relations of the Synthesis of Understanding to that of Reason — The Deduction of the Categories, and their Limitation to Experience — Union of a priori Perceptions and Conceptions in Ex- perience—Impossibility of a Pure Synthesis of Thought— That in Synthetic Judgment the Mind goes beyond itself, and the ideas it has already United with the Consciousness of Itself— The Possibility of a Pure Analytic Judgment — Importance of the Distinction of Synthesis and Analysis for Kant— Nature of the Ultimate Synthesis of Thought and Perception— Difference of Mathematical and Dynamical Principles— Per- ception and Conception as Elements, not Kinds of Knowledge— How it was necessary for Kant to maintain both the Distinction and the Relation of Perception and Conception — Difference in the Deductions of the Mathe- matical and the Dynamical Principles- Summary of Kant's Views as to the Problem of Criticism, Pp- 227-280 XVlll CONTENTS. CHAPTER II. THE AESTHETIC. Relation of the Aesthetic to the Dissertation— Timculty caused by Confusion/ C of the Different Stages in Kant's Critical Regress— Relation of the AestJietu: to the Analytic— Tha.t the Distinction of Sense and Thought in the Aesthetic is the Presupposition of the Problem as to their delation in the Analytic— That this Problem involves two Subordinate Problems which are dealt with in the Analytic and Dialectic respectively- The Metaphysical and Transcendental Exposition of Space and Time— Their A -priority proved by their Priority— That this proof is directed against Newton, not against Hume— Proof that Space and Time are Perceptions, not confused Concep- tions, as Leibniz believed— In what sense Space and Time are spoken of by Kant as Infinite Given frAo^cs- Correction of the inaccuracy of this State- ment in the Dialectic— Tha.t the view of Space and Time as a priori Eorms of Perception explains the possibility of Mathematics— How Mathematics can anticipate Experience— How far the Aesthetic modifies the ordinary ' Dogmatic View of Things— Empirical Reality and Transcendental Ideality of Space and Time— Sense in which Kant maintains the Distinction of the Primary and Secondary Qualities of Matter— Lambert's Objection to the Ideality of Time— Kant's View of the Controversy between the New- tonians and Leibniz — Trendenburg on Kant's Dilemma — Impossibility of escaping it onKant's Presuppositions — Change of Kant's View of Perception in the Analytic — The Question raised how Sensations become Perceptions — That it is not merely by means of the Forms of Perception — That the unconscious Synthesis of Imagination in Perception and the conscious Synthesis of Understanding in Conception must be combined — How these two Processes are related — Knowledge conceived in the Analytic and Dialectic as a Process of Synthesis that cannot be Completed — New Con- ception of the Relation of the Phenomenon to the Thing in itself thence arising — Summary View of the Problem of the Analytic and the Dialectic. Pp. 281-319. CHAPTER III. THE TWO LOGICS AND THE DISCOVERY OR METAPHYSICAL DEDUCTION OF THE CATEGORIES. That the Analytic and Dialectic involve a New Reflexion on the Presuppositions of the Aesthetic — The Distinction of the Metaphysical and Transcendental Deduction — Use of Formal Logic in the former — The Analytic Processes of Judgment and Syllogism, and their Difference from the corresponding Synthetic Processes, which are based on a priori Conceptions and Ideas — Difference of Conceptions and Ideas — Both Imaginative and Conceptual Synthesis necessary for Synthetic Judgment — Kant's First Statement of the relation of Analytic and Synthetic Judgment — Difficulties in it — Kant's Derivation of the Transcendental from the Logical System — How far it corresponds to Kant's own Idea of a Metaphysical Deduction — That a purely CONTENTS. xix Formal Judgment would disappear in the simple identity of Subject and Predicate— That neither Judgment nor Syllogism is ever simply Analytic —Consequences of Kant's View of Pure Thought as Analytic— That Kant is obliged to Transform the Logical System in order to adapt it to his Purpose— That the three Categories in each Class are not Exclusive Alter- natives, and that Kant does not treat them as such— Distinction of the Mathematical and Dynamical Categories — That there are really Three Classes of Categories, because Three Stages of Reflexion— Kant's gradual Advance towards an Organic System of Categories, . Pp. 320-346. CHAPTER IV. THE TRANSCENDENTAL DEDUCTION OP THE CATEGORIES. Relation of the Metaphysical to the Transcendental Deduction- Change of the latter in the Second Editions of the Critique — Necessity of the Categories for a Consciousness of Objects as such — Self-Consciousness possible only through aconneoted Consciousness of Objects — Pre-established Harmony of Percep- tion with Conception — Kant's Illustrations of it — That all our Ideas must be Consistent with the Possibility of Self- Consciousness — That this implies a Conformity of all Perception to certain a priori Synthetic Principles — Kant's Interpretation of the Pre-established Harmony of Leibniz — General Purport of the Deduction in the First Edition— The Synthesis of Appreheu- , sion in Perception, of Re-production in Imagination, and of Recognition in , Conception — That the two Former are conformed.a priori to the Latter, as necessary to the Possibility of Self-Consciousness — General Relation of the Consciousness of Objects to Self- Consciousness — That reference to an Object means Subsumption under a Rule, and that this Explains the Constraint which the Object seems to put upon our Consciousness — That the Subjective Unity is prior to the Consciousness of Objects, but the Consciousness of that Unity is posterior to it — Difficulty as to the priority of the Synthesis of the Imagination to the Synthesis of Recognition — That it is not Priority in Time — Similar difficulty as to the Relation of Opinion to Science in Greek Philosophy — Plato's Solution of it — That Knowledge of the Particular is through the Universal does not imply that the Universal is present as such to Consciousness — Kant's first Solution of the Difficulty as to the Relation of Perception and Conception: that Conception is necessary to Generalise Perception, and therefore, to Objectify it — His Second Step : that even a Particular Judgment involves Conception, and therefore no Judgment of mere Perception is possible — Question whether even the Consciousness of Particular Images is possible without the Determination of these by Con- ception — That even Consciousness of an Appearance, as such, involves a Judgment — That Perception cannot be the Consciousness, or even the Presence, of an Image, if isolated from Conception — ^That, on the other hand, a Synthetic Principle cannot be derived from Pure Thought— That, if Conception and Perception are thus absolutely Divided.Knowledge becomes impossible— That, therefore, they can exist only as Factors in the Unity of the Judgment — Imagination as the Mediator between them— Kant's way of reaching Unity from a Pre-supposed Difference — The Pre-estab- lished Harmony of Conception and Perception carried back to Unity — XX CONTENTS. That Perception is not prior to Conception in the Sense it has as Subsumed under Conception— Sense in which it is Prior to Conception— Kant's Imperfect View of the Organic Unity of the Intelligence, as connected with his Negative View of the Return of Consciousness upon itself— Question whether his Ideal of Knowledge is an Abstract Identity which is neither Conception nor Perception, or an Intuitive Understanding which is both— That if the latter alternative be adopted, Pure Thought cannot be Analytic —That Kant's Argument implies that it is Synthetic— How the recognition of a Synthetic Movement in Self-Consciousness leads to a Transformation of our View of Objects and of the Self— The Dualism of Descartes rejected by Kant, though only in relation to Phenomena— That the Regress upon the Unity of Self-Consciousness ought to be recognised by Kant as a Progress — Consequences of so regarding it — How this View of it throws Light upon the Deduction — Relation of Inner and Outer Sense, as exhibited in the Second Part of the Deduction— The Determination of Inner Sense by the Categories — That Kant treats Inner Experience as more abstract than Outer, but enables us to see that the Opposite is the Truth — Partial Survival in Kant of the Error of Berkeley, which he yet enables us to Correct — The Development of the Consciousness of Objects not to be separated from the development of Self- Consciousness, though logically Self -Consciousness is Posterior — Summary of the Argument of the First and Second Part of the Deduction and of the Results of the above Criticism of them, Pp. 347-430. CHAPTER V. THE SCHEMATISM OF THE CATEGORIES. The Categories as Principles for the Determination of aU Objects in Time — The Judgment of Experience defined as the Subsumption of an Image of Perception under a. Schematised Category — Necessity of the Schema — The Distinction between a Schema and an Image — How the Schema determines the Conception — Schemata of Pure Conception — The Schemata as supplying what is wanting in Kant's View of the Relativity of Per- ception and Conception — How Kant's Argument leads to an Alteration of his Premises, and so to a truer View of the Relation, of Conception V and Perception in Knowledge — Real Meaning of the Assertion that the Categories are Species of Apperception — Relation of the Kantian and Hegelian Logic — Steps in Kant's Transition from the Analytic to the Synthetic Unity — How the Third Category in Quality and Quantity comes into Existence in the Process of Schematism — Why Totality appears as Degree, and Limitation as Number — Reason for the Imperfect Form in which these Categories appear — Contradiction involved in this View of the Synthesis represented by the Third Category — The Categories and Schemata of Relation — That they carry us beyond the Analytic View of Thought — The Peculiar Character of these Categories and their Importance in the Development of Kant's Philosophy — Origin of A the Necessity expressed in them — Peculiarities of the Categories of Modality — Impossibility of Explaining them on Kant's Principles— That Kant, by his View of the Schematism, imperfectly supplies a Defect in his Theory of Knowledge— That Judgment involves Three Momenta, ex- CONTENTS. xxi pressed in the Three Classes of Categories — That, therefore, it always Involves all the Categories, though it depends on the Predicate which of them is made Explicit — Judgments of Simple Position, of Relation or Reflexion, and of Modality or Ideal Unity — When the Matter of Judg- ment is adequate to its Form— How the Categories of Modality lose Objective Validity for Kant — Reasons for regarding them as the only Adequate Categories of Reality — Transition from the Schematism to the Principles of the Pure Understanding, . . . Pp. 431-470. CHAPTER YI. THE SYSTEM OP PRINCIPLES OP THE PURE UNDERSTANDING. Object of the Deduction of these Principles — Kant's Contrast of the Principles of Thinking with the Principles of Knowing— Relation of the Schematism to the Deduction of the Principles — Logical Character of this Deduction — How Experience can supply a Basis for the Deduction of the Principles of its own Possibility — Ambiguity in the Argument as stated by Kant — That it is partly caused by the Ordinary Use of those Principles with the Con- scious Use of them — That Science involves a Transcendental Regress, which, however, is not carried so far back as Kant's Regress — Kant's Con- fusion of the Transcendental Regress with a Psychological Account of the Genesis of Experience out of independent Paotors-^That if we take away the Principles we reduce Experience to a Chaos of Sensations, while, if we Reflect on their Presence in Experience, we raise it into the Porm of Science — The Mathematical and the Dynamical Principles — Necessity of further Distinguishing the Postulates from the Analogies, Pp. 471-488. CHAPTER VII. THE MATHEMATICAL PRINCIPLES. Nature of the Schemata of Number and Degree, as stated in Chap. V.— General Purport of the Deduction of the Mathematical Principles — Deduction of the Principle of the Axioms of Perception— That Objects are known as in Space and Time only by a Synthesis under the Schema of Number, and by the Consciousness of that Schema — Positive and Negative Aspect of this Deduction— Imperfection of the Determination of Objects as Exten- sive Quanta— Deduction of the Principle of the Anticipations of Percep- tion—Three Points to be Distinguished in that Deduction- That Positive and Negative are Viewed by Kant as reciprocally Exclusive in Pure Thought, but not in Knowledge, and therefore as reciprocally Exclusive in Things in Themselves, but not in Phenomena— Application of this Principle to Matter in Space in the Metaphysical Rudiments of Physics— The Union of Opposites as Mediated by Space and Time— Difficulty of Combining Kant's different Statements as to Limitation and Degree— The True Rela- tion of the Porms of Time and Space to the Categories of Totality and Limitation— Criticism of Kant's View of the Relation of the Ideas of Extensive and Intensive Quantity— That the latter is necessarily related to the fbrmer- Kant's Criticism of the Explanation of Degree "by more or xxii COHTBNTS. less of racmim— That the Principle of the Anticipations of Sense-Percep- tion iustifies the Application of the Higher Mathematical Calculus to Experience, Pp. 489-513. CHAPTER VIII. THE ANALOGIES OF EXPERIENCE. Why Kant found it necessary to Deduce the Mathematical Principles before dealing with the Deduction of Causality and the other Analogies— Why he requires a Special Deduction of the Analogies— Explanation of the Statement that the Analogies determine Objects as Existing— WhaX Kant seeks to Prove— Necessity of the Analogies to Universalise the Determina- tion of Phenomena in Time— Ambiguity in Kant's Statement of this Necessity -Meaning of his Statement that the Principle of Causality can- not be Analytically Derived from the idea of an Event— That it Implies the Reduction of an Event to a Succession of Impressions— That of the three Determinations of Time only Sequence can plausibly be Derived from our Impressions— Hume's Treatment of the Analogies in the Treatise on Human Nature—How, in the Inquiry, he makes the Problem easier for himself by Confining it to Causality — That Kant, on the other hand, Deals with the Three Analogies as essentially Connected with each other — Characteristics of the Transcendental Deduction of the Analogies — The Analogies as Conditions under which Objects as Existing in Time, and the Sequence and Co-existence of , their States, can become known to us — Ambiguity in this Deduction— How it Corrects our first Abstract View of Objects — Particular Objects in Particular Time-relations known through Universal Principles — How the Consciousness of these Principles adds to our Previous Knowledge — Position and Negative Aspects of the Dedtiction — Statements of Principle of Substance in the First and Second Editions of the Critique — That the Statement of the Second Edition agrees more exactly with the Form of Kant's Deduction — Reasons for that Form (1) in Hume's Statement of the Problem of Causality ; (2) in the View of Time V given in the ^es^/icfe'c — Meaning of the Term 'Analogy' — Defect of the Deduction — How Kant seeks to Remove it in the Second Edition by Introducing the Determination of Objects as in Space — That only the Object of External Sense can be regarded as a permanent Substance — Changes in the Deduction of the Principle of Substance which this would Necessitate — That the Principle of Substance is Deduced merely as the Pre-Supposition of the Principles of the other Analogies, because Substance is Nothing apart from its Accidents — That this Limitation of the Principle of Substance is Regarded as due, not to the Laws of Thought, bxit to the Sensuous Conditions of Knowledge — Error in this View due to Kant's Conception of Pure Thought as purely Analytic — That the Conception of a Thing-in-Itself apart from Relations, is due to the Abstract Nature of our first Consciousness of Objects ; and that, therefore, it should be Cor- rected by going onfrom Substance to the other Categories of Relation — State- ment of the Principle of Causality in the First and Second Editions of the Critique — That the Statement of its Relation to the Principle of Substance is already a Partial Answer to Hume — That the Succession of Perceptions CONTENTS. xxiii cannot originate the Consciousness of Succession, any more than that of Objective Permanence or Co-existence — That Objects are not Perceived by us as Changing, except through a Synthesis of the Imagination and the Recognition of the Principle of that Synthesis— That it is the Principle of Causality by which the Imagination is Bound to a Definite Order of Succession in the Perception of an Event as such — That the Principle of Causality can be Derived from Phenomena only because the Understand- ing has previously Determined them by it — Double Aspect of it : (1) that Causality is not to be got by Analysis of the idea of an Event ; but yet (2) that an Event cannot be Known by us as such, except through the Principle of Causality — Explanation of the Apparent Contradiction in this Deduction — Special Difficulty in the Deduction of Causality, due partly to Kant's Absolute Distinction between Analytic and Synthetic Judgment, and partly to the Separation of Causality from Substance — Cause and Substance as Different Phases of One Conception — Schopenhauer's Objec- tion to Kant's View of the Relation of Succession to Causality — Kantian Answer — How Casvial Sequence is to be Explained on Kant's Principles — That Causality cannot be taken as Directly Applying to Inner Experience — That, in Relation to Outer Experience, the Relativity of Motion implies that Causality must ultimately be regarded as Reciprocity — Kant's Statement of the Principle of Meciprocity in the First and Second Editions — The Commercium of Substances, as represented in the Disserta- tion and the Critique — That Reciprocity is Implied in Co-existence as Known — Positive and Negative Aspects of this Deduction — Reciprocity as the Analogon of the Principle of the Disjunctive Judgment — That all the Three Principles involve a given Difference, which has to be Reduced to Unity ; that, therefore, they contain a Contradiction which can be Solved only by a Higher Principle, .... Pp. 514-587. CHAPTEE IX. THE POSTULATES OP EMPIRICAL THOUGHT— KANT'S VIEW OF IDEALISM, AND OF THE RELATION OF INNER AND OUTER SENSE. Import of the Categories of Modality — That in the Postulates of Empirical Thought, the Results of the Analytic are Summed up — Difficulty as to the Relation of Possibility and Actuality— Question whether it is Perception that enables us to refer our Conceptions to Objects, or Conception that enables us to refer our Perceptions to Objects — Why both these Modes of Expression can be justified by Kant— Why Kant never completely Solves the Contradiction between them— That Conception Pre-supposes and Tran- scends Perception, as Self-Consciousness Pre-supposes and Transcends the Consciousness of Objects- Reasons for the Imperfect Development of this Idea in Kant— That the Principles of the Possibility of Experience cannot themselves be regarded as merely Possible— That the Modal Principles must be regarded as Expressing the Organic Unity of Objects with each other, and with the Intelligence— Why Kant rejects this View- General and particular Contingency of Objects in Relation to the • Intelligence— That, the Idea of the General Contingency of Objects is xxiv CONTENTS. modified in the Second Edition by a new Conception of the relation of Inaer and Outer Experience-That Lambert's Difacultyas to Time, and ako the Difficulty as to the Connection of Mind and Body, are Answered in the First Edition by equalising Inner and Outer Experience-That Inner Experience cannot be Co-ordinated with Outer Experience, as it is the same Experience in a, further Keflexion-Kant's gradual Discovery of this-His View as to the imperfectly Scientific Character of Psychology— His Twofold Answer to those who treated him as a Supporter of the Berkleian Idealism: (1) That Transcendental Idealism vindicates the empirical Keality of the Objects known as Phenomena ; (2) That it does not affect the Distinction between Phenomena and Things in Themselves —Germs in the First Edition of the View that Outer Experience Pre- supposes Inner Experience— Its Development in the Second Edition- Kant's Final Analysis of Experience— How it is to be brought in Belation to his Treatment of the Principles of Pure Understanding— His Admission that the Deduction of these Principles requires them to be viewed Primarily as Principles of the Possibility of External Experience— Tho Refviation of Idealism— Ajnhigaity of the way in which it opposes ideas to Objects- Logical Defects of the Eefutation—ln what sense it can be said to treat Outward Objects as Things in Themselves— How Kant * proceeds from the Determination of the External Object as an idea, to the Determination of it as an Object in Distinction from our ideas— That the Defect of the Argument is due to Kant's Confusion of the Eegressive Method with the Method of Abstraction- That ideas cannot be treated as States of the Thinking Subject, nor the Inner Life as a series of such States— The Mistake of Berkeley, and Kant's Correction of it— Inner K Experience — Outer Experience, considered in Eelation to Feeling and Thought — Change of our View of the External World when we regard it as the Environment of a Sensitive Organism — Further change when we view it as a World of Objects existing for a Subject, and as the means whereby its Self -Consciousness is Developed — Kant's View of Self-Consciousness, and its Relation to the Idea of the Noumenon — Necessity of a Principle to combine Analysis and Synthesis, Thought and Knowledge — That we cannot stop with the Determination of the Real as Empirically Necessary, but must go on to Eecognise ihe Self as the Principle of Unity implied in the Con- sciousness of Objects, and realised in Self-Consciousness — The Correction of our First Consciousness of Objects under the Mathematical Principles by the Analogies ; and of the Consciousness of them under the Analogies by the Principles of Modality or Ideal Unity. . . Pp. 588-654. THE CRITICAL PHILOSOPHY. INTRODUCTION. CHAPTEE I. THE IDEA OF CRITICISM. " rpUE present age may be characterised as the Age of Criti- Necessity of I , , . Criticism. cism, a criticism to which everything is , obliged to submit. Eeligion, on the ground of its sacredness, and Law, on the ground of its majesty, not uncommonly attempt to escape this necessity. But by such efforts they inevitably awaken a just suspicion of the soundness of their foundation, and they lose all their claim to the unfeigned homage paid by reason to that which has shown itself able to stand the test of free inquiry." What is meant bv Criticism in these words of Kant, and wtat is criti- •^ cism ? what reason had Kant for regarding Criticism as specially the characteristic of his own age ? Not unfrequently the term " Criticism " is applied to a process which has scarcely any rule or principle, a process which consists simply in raising manifold objections from any point of view that may suggest itself to the theory or doctrine criticised. Such criticism may have a certain relative value because it awakens the mind from an attitude of passive reception and stimulates it to play freely round the subject in hand. But it is not a scientific » process. It has no definite standard of judgment which it VOL. I. A 2 INTRODUCTION. chap. consistently applies. Hence its use is to prepare for a better method ; and if it does not make way for such a method, it soon passes into a sophistry which can prove or disprove any- thing, just because it has no principle to which it steadfastly adheres. It is criticism without a criterion, and in the end it throws light upon nothing, except perhaps upon the mind of the critic. Even upon this it throws light only in so far as it enables us to penetrate to the unconscious presuppositions on which his judgments are based. Do^aS.*" ^o"^ ^^"^^ undoubtedly meant something quite different from this when he called his own age the age of Criticism, and when he spoke of his own Critique as carrying out the work of the age to its legitimate result in the province of philosophy. What he meant we may best understand if we consider how he opposes Criticism to two other forms of philosophy. Dog- matism and Scepticism. " Dogmatism,'' he declares, " is the positive or dogmatic procedure of reason without previous criticism of its own faculty;" i.e., it is a system which is pro- duced in the direct effort to understand and interpret the world — the effort of a mind which is as yet troubled by no scruples as to its own competence, or as to the efficiency of the methods and principles it uses. Such a mind, indeed, is generally un- conscious of any method or principle whatever. It is too busy with its object to attend to itself An early philosopher is described by Aristotle as looking up at the expanse of heaven, and declaring that "all is one." So by a direct effort of intuitive thought, the mind which as yet is troubled with no doubts as to the possibility of knowledge, seizes upon some general principle that seems to be as wide as the universe itself, and uses it to explain, or to explain away, all ap- pearances. Such immediate, unhesitating action of the intelligence does not of necessity fail of a good result. Nay, it is to such action that man's first insight into the nature of things is always due. But it invariably, in the first instance at least, overshoots its mark. Lighting up one aspect of things !• THE IDEA OP CRITICISM. 3 with the vividness of intuitive presentment, it leaves the other aspects in the shade. Grasping a principle of limited range, it applies that principle fearlessly to objects which it cannot explain, and which, therefore, it only serves to distort. Especi- ally is this apt to be the case with minds of little originality • which work by an impulse, and on the lines of a thought which they have received from another. For men of creative and original insight have generally a sense of the whole, a con- sciousness of the unity of things, which restrains them from unseasonable applications of a principle, though theoretically they may have laid it down without qualification or limitation. It is not from the Newtons or the Darwins that we get abso- lute mechanical explanations of the universe, or scholastic' schemata of the whole possibilities of animal existence. But there are many men of a high, though not the highest, order of intelligence who advance unhesitatingly on any intellectual road on which they have once set out, and are able to render great service to science so long as that road leads to anything, i.e., so long as they apply their method only to objects to which it is adequate. Yet it is often the fate of such men, by the very fearlessness and good faith with which they apply their key to everything, to awaken the first doubt whether it can open every lock. Pressing on under what Goethe called the "daemonic" influence of the idea that possesses them, they try to bring every region of existence under its sway, until the common intelligence refuses to follow them in their Procrustean treatment of facts. Thus the consciousness that a principle is not universal arises out of the very attempt to universalise it, and it is well if the recoil of thought does not awake scepti- cism as to its value and truth even within its own limited sphere. The direct dogmatic or uncritical use of the understanding ^^^™ °*^ is sure at some point to find itself checked and thwarted by the nature of things. For the simple principles which first •present themselves for the explanation of the worid are neces- 4 INTRODUCTION. chap. sarily imperfect and one-sided. If they explain phenomena, it is only within a limited range, and when they are extended beyond that range they come into contradiction with facts and even with themselves. The category which forms a sufficient guide so long as it is applied to the investigation of one definite part of the world or one definite phase of reality, is found inadequate when it is employed as a universal principle. Hence, one^sidedness here calls forth an opposite one-sidedness there, dogmatism is met by an opposite dogmatism, and in the interminable controversy which arises between the champions of apparently opposed but really complementary ideas, each finds that the. sharp dialectic which he directs against his opponent is retorted upon himself. Besides, even apart from its being assailed in this way from without, a half-truth is its own Nemesis. A one-sided dogmatism "has the opposite dogmatism latent in itself. It needs only to be developed and it destroys itself. A part setting itself up as a whole, an abstraction claiming to be a complete reality, is in contra- diction even with itself ; and this contradiction in the end must be fatal to it. Thus the ancient dialectic gave the coup de grdce to the theory that "all is one," (which was interpreted so as to deny the reality of all difference,) when it showed that absolute unity is no unity at all, or that unity means nothing except in relation to difference.' scf'tSa'm^'" ^^® ^^^*' sff^^*' °f *li^ failure of Dogmatism is naturally the rise of Scepticism. The conflict of opposite dogmas produces a sense of hopelessness, and even, it may be, a conviction that " whatever can be asserted may with equal reason be denied." Such scepticism may be of a deeper or of a shallower nature. It may be only that superficial doubt which is the result of observing many differences of opinion, and listening to much argument on either side. It may be the sophistic consciousness that a plausible case may be made out for anythincr or against anything. Or finally it may be the deeper scepti- cism of a reasoned despair of knowledge, arising out of the J- THE IDEA OF CRITICISM. 5 consciousness that every dogmatism has latent in it an opposite dogmatism, and that the contradiction which it enqounters from its opponent is only the recoil of its own logic upon itself. It is especially this last kind of scepticism to which Kant refers when he speaks of the sceptics as " those nomads of the intellectual world who will not permit any steady culti- , vation of the soil." Such scepticism, as Bacon said, is itself a dogmatism ; " Ephedicus aKaTciXri-^lav dogmatizavit." The sceptic seeks rest in negation, in the conviction that no truth can be reached. He endeavours to make his mind content itself with its subjective certitude of itself, and to repel as slavery every objective belief. In this sense the ancient Sceptics used the proverb that " he who shuns suretyship is sure," interpreting it to mean that he who has committed him- self to nothing, who rests his faith and trust on nothing either intellectually or morally, but falls back upon the bare con- sciousness of himself, is thereby raised above all disappoint- ment or vexation. " Ich hale meine Sache auf Nichts gestellt " is the wise man's motto. Is such scepticism self-consistent, or is it vexed with a con- The sceptic a Dogmatist. tradiction like the dogmatism it opposes ? Kant maintains that the latter is the truth, and that scepticism, like dogmatism, carries in it the principle of its own refutation. It must do so, because, as already said, it is only another kind of dogmatism. When it stops short at a negative result and refuses to turn its weapons against itself, it is guilty of the very inconsequence, of which it accuses its enemy. It is really as a dogmatist that the sceptic is strong against dogmatism: it is only as asserting some principle which is common to the contending parties, that he is able to show that they refute ^ach other. For a purely negative position is an impossibility : even a question involves an assumption ; even a doubt, still more a negative conviction, must have a positive certainty behind it. If I say that all I know is appearance and that I do not, and cannot, know the reality which is beyond appearance, I 6 INTRODUCTION. chap. must have some positive reason for the distinction which I make between appearance and reality; I must have some criterion of the latter which enables me to deny its unity with the former. If I say that I am conscious of myself and my ideas but not of objects, I assume the reality or possibility of objects independent of mythought, and alsothatlcan sever the conscious- ness of myself from the consciousness of these objects. Absolute scepticism thus destroys itself. The Sceptics themselves said that it was a medicine which purged out itself as well as the disease, but they did not recognise the force of their own saying. For a scepticism that recognises its own inconsistency has at the same time recognised that it is impossible to rest in scepticism ; or in other words, that scepticism ends in disclosing a fundamental belief in relation to which it is impossible to be sceptical. If the first work of scepticism is to carry us beyond opposite dogmatisms, the last work is to disclose the basis of truth on which after all it, as well as they, must rest. But when it takes this last work in hand, it has ceased in the proper sense to be scepticism, and has become Criticism. so'ipticSmto T^is last statement may be illustrated by a remarkable Criticism. . _ _y. . , „ . . ,. , expression of Kant. " Scepticism," he says, " would have been a useful regress, if it had gone back over the ground traversed by the dogmatists to the point where their wanderings began." ^ Criticism is a deeper kind of scepticism, which does thus go back to the beginnings of our thought — or at least to a point logically prior to that at which the opposite dogmatic systems diverge from each other — and so gets into the straight road again. In other words, its aim is to bring the controversy to an end by detecting its sources and presuppositions. For in every controversy there must be some ground common to ' the controversialists, little as they may recognise it themselves. If this were not so, assertion and denial, attack and defence, would be equally unmeaning. And the value of scepticism is 1 E. i. 492 ; H. viii. 523. I- THE IDEA OF CRITICISM. 7 just this that, while using the arguments of each of the parties to refute the other, it suggests that the question at issue has certain presuppositions without the examination of which it cannot be decided. To put the same thing from another point of view, every great conflict of thought, such as that between the Ionics and the Eleatics, or betw.een the Platonists and Aristotelians, or between the Stoics and the Epicureans, or again in modern times between the school of Locke and the school of Leibniz, is really due to the fact that opposite but complementary aspects or elements of a truth are taken for absolutely contradictory views of that truth. Such contro- versies arise out of the attempt to settle by a simple " yes " or " no " questions which cannot be thus simply answered. Hence each answer involves an absurdity and is open to an irresistible attack from the other side, and that disputant will be victorious who can secure the attack and force his opponents to act on the defensive. Meanwhile the sceptic draws the con- clusion that truth is unattainable, or, to put it in Kantian language, that the question involves an insoluble " antinomy " of reason. The , true interpretation of the facts is, however, different. A dogmatism is an attempt to explain the whole universe by a, principle which applies only to a fragment or phase of it, while the opposite dogmatism denies that that principle has any validity whatever, and puts an opposite principle in its place. Finally the resulting scepticism is simply the unlimited rejection of both the opposite dogmas. But if this is so, it becomes obvious that all the combatants are fighting within a closed arena where no conclusive victory can be gained. The only way to put an end to the dispute is to break through the narrow conditions under which it has been carried on. And it is just this which Criticism seeks to do. In other words, its aim is to penetrate to the principle which underlies the controversy, to discover the more compre- hensive conception which puts each of the opposing theories in *its place as an element of the truth. This is a process which /. Philosophical Criticism. 8 INTKODUCTION. chap. combines dogmatism and scepticism, yet is different from either. It is dogmatic, in so far as it recognises the partial truth of each of the dogmatic theories ; sceptical, in so far as it limits each to a part ; and dogmatic again, in so far as it discovers the unity which is manifested in their difference and relative opposition. It limits the validity of secondary principles which have been supposed to he primary and universal, by searching out some prior truth which is the condition of their relative validity. It is thus at once regressive and progressive, or rather, it is regressive in order to be progressive. It goes back to a principle of unity presupposed in the division of opposite schools, in order to reach forward to a comprehensive idea in which their difference is reconciled. Criticism, (then, Vn the highest sense of the word, essentially involves an effort to get beyond the sphere in which a contro- versy is carried on, and to throw new light upon it from a point of view which is above that of either of the disputants, though it is also a point of view which both the disputants tacitly acknowledge. That is a true criticism which lifts a \ subject into the region of principle, and so frees it from the I mere attack and rejoinder of ordinary controversy. A enticed 1 philosophy, in the sense of Kant, goes beyond this only in so i far as it is an attempt to reach principles, which are prior not \ only to a particular controversy, but to all controversy. As j he describes it, it is a " criticism of the very faculty of know- I ledge," the aim of which is to determine the most general con- j ditions of the knowable. Its Principle. It is obvious that of all that is knowable we must be able to predicate whatever is involved in its being knowable, and that such predicates will take precedence of all others, and will determine or limit the sense in which they are to be understood. From this point of view, therefore, there seem to be certain assertions which we may make in regard to the world and to every object in it, independently of its being actually known, assertions which will not be altered or modified by any increase ^- THE IDEA OP CRITICISM. 9 of our actual knowledge, or by any change of our view of those particular objects which we already know. " The faculty of knowledge " in this sense is the presupposition of anything known ; and the criticism of that faculty, if successfully carried out, must lead to the establishment of principles which are universal, and which therefore can be used to determine the , value and place in a scheme of knowledge of all secondary principles. The problem thus set before us by Kant seems at first sight Locke's, idea of to be identical with that which Locke endeavoured to solve in his Essay on the Human Understanding. On consideration, how- ever, we find that there is an important difference, the explana- tion of which may serve to throw some light both on the nature of philosophical criticism and on the possibility of its object being attained. Locke conceives the question as one of Psy- chology. " I thought," he tells us, " that the first step towards satisfying several inquiries the mind of man was very apt to run into, was to take a view of our own understanding, examine our own powers, and see to what things they were adapted. Till that was done, I suspected we began at the wrong end, and in vain sought for satisfaction in a quiet and sure possession of truths that most concerned us, whilst we let loose our thoughts ■ into the vast ocean of being, as if all that boundless extent were the natural and undoubted possession of our understanding, wherein nothing was exempt from its decisions, or escaped its comprehension. Thus men extending their inquiries beyond their capacities, and letting their thoughts wander into those depths where they can find no sure footing, it is no wonder that they raise questions and multiply disputes, which, never coming to any clear resolution, are proper only to continue and increase their doubts, and to confirm them at last in perfect scepticism. Whereas, were the capacities of our understandings well considered, the extent of our knowledge once discovered, and the horizon found which sets the bounds between the en- lightened and dark parts of things, between what is and what 10 INTEODUCTION. ''HAP. is not comprehensible by us, men would perhaps with less scruple acquiesce in the avowed ignorance of the one, and em- ploy their thoughts and discourse with more advantage and satisfaction in the others." ^ Locke, in fact, bids us examine our faculties in order that we may discover the, nature and limits of our knowledge, very much as we might examine a telescope in order to discover whether there was any flaw in its construc- tion which might distort our vision of the objects seen through it, or any limitation of its range, which, beyond a given distance, might render it useless. Now, if this were the sense in which Kant bade us criticise our faculty of knowledge, it would not be unreasonable to object that we cannot examine the mind except with the mind, and that any defect in the mind, which might hinder us from knowing other objects or from knowing them correctly, would equally hinder us from knowing the mind itself. To this, from a purely psychological point of view, there seems to be no answer.^ Mind, as one of the objects of knowledge, in the sense in which we contrast it with matter, cannot be taken as the object the knowledge of which is at the basis of all other knowledge. On the contrary, to understand mind in that sense implies that we already understand the material world. For man is a being who doubly presupposes nature, as he is a spirit which finds its organ in an animal body, and as it is in the system of nature that he finds the presupposition and environment of his life. To base knowledge on psychology would, therefore, be to base it on what is its latest and most complex result. If we knew mind in this sense, we should not need to look for the principle on which knowledge is built, for we should already have attained every end with a view to which such a principle is sought after. If the copestone had been firmly and securely * Essay, I. i. 7. ' I.e., if Psychology deals with mind as one object among others. Locke no doubt, like Berkeley, goes on the supposition that the mind knows itself by direct introspection, and that the only difficulty is how it should look beyond itself. This view, which to some extent influences even Kant, will be fully discussed in the sequel. ^- THE IDEA or CEITICISM. 11 put on the temple of knowledge, we should not be searching for its foundations. Now this difficulty arises from the twofold aspect in which '^ criticism ^ based on mind presents itself, as at once the beginning and the end of '^''^'''^^"syi knowledge. The thinking being is not merely an object in the known or knowable world, he is also a subject of knowledge, and it is only for such a subject that an object or a world of objects can exist. Hence we may speak of man's knowing himself in two ways : of a knowledge of himseK in which he is regarded simply as the self, the thinking subject which is im- plied in all objects of knowledge ; and of a knowledge of him- self as a human being, distinguished from other human beings from the animals and from nature in general, and standing in definite relations to each of them. With the labter kind of know- ledge of himself, which is the subject matter of Psychology, Criticism, in the primary aspect of it, has nothing to do ; for this knowledge of mind, as has been already said, is not the beginning, but rather the end, of science ; and it cannot be used as a test or criterion • for that which is more simple than itself. Criticism has to deal with the knowledge of mind only in so far as mind is presupposed in everything known or know- able ; or, in other words, in so far as the principles which are involved in the relation of objects to a conscious self are the latent presuppositions of all knowledge, the principles through which everything else must be known, and by means of which, therefore, every other kind of knowledge must be tried. Psychology is only interested in such inquiries in so far as the fact that a conscious being, as such, is a subject of knowledge, must essentially modify our view of his relation to all other objects in a world which cannpt logically be con- sidered as existing apart from such a subject. Now, leaving out of consideration for the present certain in- °hyi%aif '"*" adequacies in Kant's statement, it is in the sense just explained' that we must take his assertion that every philosophy is a dog- matism which does not begin with a criticism of our faculty Defect of Psychological Criticism. 12 INTRODUCTION. chap. of knowledge. For, as aforesaid, all knowable objects are in necessary relation to a thinking subject ; they are essentially objects-for-a-self : and this relativity makes it impossible to treat them as external to the consciousness of such a subject, or as things to which that consciousness is external, (as if objects merely happened to be in one world with certain beings capable of knowing them). From this point of view, mind is not one thing and matter another : for if by mind we mean the conscious subject, such a subject is the presupposition of the material and spiritual worlds alike. Or, to put it otherwise, we cannot speak of things as qualified in themselves apart from the accident that makes them possible objects to a subject. They have from the first involved in them the characteristics in virtue of which I know them. They could never come into my con- sciousness at all, unless they were from the first essentially related to consciousness. Mind does not condition them merely in the sense that thinking beings are part of the world of nature, and in that world externally act on other beings and things and are reacted on by them ; but in the sense that mind is the condition of there being such a world of related objects at all. For it is manifest that, if all existence has to be defined as existence for a thinking self, in bringing to self-consciousness what is involved in this relation to a self, we are not merely explaining the relation of matter and mind as two separate objects, but showing what are the preconditions of there being any objects or knowledge of objects at all. "We are, in other words, going back to the beginning of Imowledge, and at the same time of the known or knowable world, when we thus ^o back upon ourselves. The defect of the Lockian or psychological theory of know- ledge, then, may be thus stated. It treats the faculty of know- ledge merely as an attribute of certain beings in the world, by which they are characterised and distinguished from other beincfs so that, e.g., as weight is the attribute of a stone, thought is the attribute of man ; or, to use the famous saying of Cabanis, I- THE IDEA OF CRITICISM. 13 " the brain secretes thought just as the liver secretes bile." But such a view of the faculty of knowledge is essentially inconsistent with the very possibility of knowledge. It implies that acts of the mind, by which .we perceive and think of objects, are to be regarded as nothing more than states of the individual conscioiisness as such. But if that were the true account of them, the knowledge of objects through such states, would be obviously impossible. For, how could the individual in the mere states of his own being ever find a reason for say- ing anything about things which ex hypothesi are not such states ? If minds are just one sort of real things in the world, and all the acts of knowledge are merely expressions of their characteristic faculty, then they can know nothing but them- selves. Knowledge, for them, must not only begin in psycho- logy, but it must end there. To the being thus imprisoned in himself, there would be no escape ; or if, by a miracle, — such as is involved in the " occasional causes " of Descartes or the pre-established harmony of Leibniz, — the ideas within should correspond with the objects without him, he could never know that they did so correspond. To take up the position of Locke, i.e., to regard the mind as a separate object and to treat its ideas and perceptions as mere subjective phe- nomena, which may be discussed apart from all question as to an objective world presented through them, is to assume the impossibility of knowledge. For if the mind could know itself and its operations apart from the knowledge of anything else, it would ipso facto be shown to be a substance purely external to that world and incapable of knowing it. In other words, it would be shown to be a mind whose development to self-con- sciousness did not imply, and which therefore could not by any possibility attain, any consciousness of a world outside of it. It would be imprisoned in itself, not in the sense of having an imperfect or distorted vision of the wdrld through its own sub- jective states, but in the sense that it would have no vision of •the world at all. To make Psychology the ]prius of all other 14 INTRODUCTION. •^^^''■ sciences, is, in other words, to say that there shall be no science but Psychology. The principle of the Lockian criticism is such that it leaves us nothing to criticise. Its attempt to explain knowledge must become inevitably, what it did become with Hume, an attempt to explain how such a thing as knowledge could be imagined to exist. It is a criticism which leads back into scepticism. Possibility of j5„(. if j+ ig imTjossible to take the mind as a separate existence Metaphysical j-'mj, 4. j- Criticism. Qu^jgi^e of the rest of the known world, and, by examination of it, to secure a point of view from which we can look down upon our consciousness of the world and criticise it : if we cannot, apart from knowledge, examine our means of knowing, — how then, it may be asked, can we criticise knowledge at all ? On what shall we take our stand in examining the process whereby we have acquired our experience and developed our present beliefs ? Is it not absurd to speak of criticising our whole view of life — all that we call knowledge — when we cannot find any means of doing it except in that knowledge itself? Archimedes could not move the world, because he could find no support for his lever outside of the world itself. And it seems at first as if the idea of a criticism of knowledge in general contained a similar contradiction, the contradiction, namely, of supposing that there is a point beyond consciousness, which yet consciousness can reach, and from which it can judge itself. Limits of Now in a sense it is true — and it is of the highest import- ance that we should recognise it — that we cannot get beyond the cycle of " our own ideas." We can never know anything except as it is related to the conscious self within us ; whatever we deal with, we are still dealing with our own consciousness of things. If anything is excluded by that, it is absolutely excluded. Of things in themselves, altogether out of relation to conscious- ness, if there are such things, we can know nothing.^ We 1 Whether Kant's things in themselves are thus unrelated to consciousness we shall afterwards consider. Knowledge. '■ THE IDKA OP CRITICISM. 15 could not criticise our consciousness of things except by a second consciousness, and why should this second consciousness have any more authority than that consciousness in which they were first presented to us? The intelligible world in this sense is a closed circle within which all things, or at least all things that are objects for us, are included, and to explain anything within this circle by reference to what is without it, is to use words to which no meaning corresponds. The knowable universe has no tortoise to rest on, no external handle by which it can be grasped. If any one, therefore, should choose to direct a battery of scepticism against the reality or possibility of Icnowledge, we cannot refute him, except by showing that the battery itself is planted within that very world of knowledge against which he pretends to direct it. And in this is already involved the solution of the whole The criterion of Knowledge difficulty. There is, indeed, no possibility of finding any -"^^^j^^^j^^^*! criterion of knowledge outside of knowledge itself, no possi- bihty of rising to another kind of consciousness which com- mands or looks down upon our ordinary consciousness of the world. If we raise the question of the criterion in the way in which it was raised in the Stoic and Epicurean and also in some modern schools of philosophy ; if, in other words, we suppose consciousness as existing on the one side and the object on the other, as independent things which can only externally act on each other ; and if we ask how the mind, conscious primarily of its own affections as such and of them only, is to get beyond itself to apprehend the object, or where it is to find the criterion by which it may test whether any, and which, of its subjective ideas represent objective reality, the answer invariably must be the sceptical one, that no such criterion can be found. We have, in fact, made the problem insoluble by the very way in which we have stated it. For we have been asking for a criterion vdthin the mind of that of which the one assumed characteristic is that it is without the mind, in such a sense that it cannot cpme into any relation with mind at all. On such a question, 16 INTRODUCTION. chap. however, the true criticism is, not that the answer is unattain- able, but that the question itself is meaningless. The objects of which it speaks would cease to be what they are defined as being, if they could be known. Even to speak of them is to suppose a breach between intelligence and reality which cannot be healed, but which, for the same reason, could not be known to exist, could not even be spoken of, without an absurdity. The question thus involves the same contradiction which has just been pointed out in absolute scepticism, i.e., the assertion of a point of view outside of the intelligible world from which doubt may be directed against it. The Particular But wliilc it is impossible to find a criterion within our con- known univSsai'"^ sciousuess by which we may test its correspondence with a world, which is supposed to be outside of that consciousness ; nay while the idea of such a criterion involves a contradiction, this does not imply that it is impossible to find in our con- sciousness a criterion of the validity of knowledge of those objects which are present to that consciousness. Tor all our knowledge of particular objects is based upon certain general principles, principles which flow from the nature of consciousness itself and its relation to objects in general. And if these principles are once brought to light, they may be used to test and to correct our special ideas and beliefs. Thus, e.g., in all conscious- ness of the world, in the ordinary as well as in the scientific consciousness, we find it represented as a unity, and even, with more or less definiteness, as a systematic unity. As it is one self to which all our consciousness is related, so it is as in one world in one space and one time — that all objects of consciousness are present to us. . And the things, beings, and events of that world are, therefore, all conceived as standing in some kind of relation to each other. This, at first, may not appear to be true of the scientific consciousness, because science is continually discover- ing new difficulties in the interpretation of facts, and these are continually leading it to the adoption of new theories. And it may not appear to be true of the ordinary consciousness, because I- THE IDEA OF CRITICISM. 17 it makes little or no effort to interpret facts on general prin- ciples, but rather seems to take them as a confused mass of particulars, associating them just as they present themselves in space and time in individual experience. But a clearer view makes us aware that the scientific consciousness is based upon a belief in law and order which is never disturbed by the diffi- culty of finding a definite place for particular plienomena, but sees in such difficulty only an occasion for remoulding certain of its subordinate views of nature in accordance with fixed general principles. And as to the popular consciousness, it is just the scientific consciousness in an inchoate state, working in ignorance or at least without distinct knowledge of the prin- ciples it uses, but none the less presupposing such principles in all its rough and ready interpretations of particular facts. Thus the categories of substance, of cause, and of reciprocal influence, are imbedded in the very grammatical structure of language, which is itself a result of the unconscious working of reason ; and it is not difiicult to show that the " plain man " uses them in every account of facts which he gives to himself or to others, however little he may have reflected on them, and however in- consistent or uncertain may be his application of them. They are the framework, so to speak, upon which his view of the world is laid down, the forms according to which his intelli- gence acts in all its acquisition of knowledge. And the man of science, with his canons of induction, by which he tries to discover or verify the true causes and interdependence of phe- nomena, does not essentially differ from the " plain man " in the principles by which he guides himself, but merely in the cer- tainty and clearness of consciousness with which he applies them, deliberately employing them for a foreknown purpose, instead of simply letting himself be led by them. J3ut both to the scientific and to the ordinary consciousness, the world is one in its manifoldness, permanent in its changes, inter-related in its coexistences ; and to both, this general consciousness of » unity takes effect in special attempts to connect and explain VOL. I. B 18 INTRODUCTION. chap. particular things and events as causing or influencing each other in definite ways. "When we realise what this means, we see that it implies nothing less than this, — that all forms of rational consciousness are built on one plan, according to some ultimate principle of unity, which manifests itself in different ways of connecting phenomena in space and time as coexistent or successive, and which thus constitutes for each thinking being a world of objects and events, standing to each other and to the self that is conscious of them in definite and permanent relations. bSd?n°° Now it is just here that Criticism seeks to find the standard principles, by which to prove all things, the criterion by which to test all ideas that present themselves as knowledge. If human experi- ence is built on such general principles, criticism is possible ; if it is not so built, then it is impossible. For in the latter case no principle, in view of which we could criticise our conscious- ness of the world and of ourselves, could have more than a temporary and relative value. Criticism, in other words, is based on the idea that below all special phases of knowledge, there is a general form of knowledge, or a general " schema," — to borrow an expression from Kant, — which we carry along with us, and by means of which, ajl, even the least instructed of men, impart a kind of unity to their experience. Every self-conscious being has at least some rough tests of that which he recognises as a fact ; and when a new phenomenon presents itself, every such being is obliged in some way to find a place for it, to give it a local habitation and a name, in relation to all other facts in the one world of his consciousness. And this means that he has within him the general plan for a self-consistent natural system, and that he compels all things that claim to be real to take up a definite position in it. It is true, as already shown, that this plan may be, in a sense, unconscious ; ie:, it may never be reflected on, or made an object of attention for itself, it may reveal itself only in its effect, and not in the activity that pro- duces it.i Few know that they have it in their minds at aU, and 1 A. 104. I- THE IDEA OP CRITICISM. 19 fewer still would be able to define or describe it. As in the case of language the consciousness of relations shows itself in grammatical structure long before these relations are named or thought about for themselves, so it is with man's knowledge or experience of the world, of which, indeed, language is but the earliest expression. Human experience betrays its ideal character in the way in which the unity of consciousness maintains itself in and through the diversity of its contents and objects, long before there is any belief or even thought of a reign of law. Such a unity must in some way be present to the mind of man if he is to have an intelligible experience at all ; or rather, we might say, it is his mind ; as, on the other hand, the absence of it, the incapacity to put particular facts in thei,r places in relation to others in one consciousness, is exactly what we mean by idiocy or madness. And this, indeed, is just the reason why we do not at first recognise this unity, and why, even when our thoughts are directed to it, it is so difficult to realise how much is involved in it. The very fact that it is the ground upon which all intelligible experience must proceed, hides it from our view. It is already behind us, so to speak, when we begin to , be conscious of objects as such, since it constitutes the very faculty by which we know them. We look outwards he/ore we look inwards, and we cannot look inwards till we look outwards any more than we can be conscious of the faculty of sight with- out first seeing something. And hence, although the faculty of knowledge is in a sense prior to actual knowledge of objects, the consciousness of that faculty, the consciousness of the self which knows, is posterior to such knowledge and presupposes it. Such consciousness is the product of a return of thought from the knowledge of objects upon the unity implied in it, though the self upon which we thus return is the presupposition of all our objective consciousness and therefore of all objects what- ever. Now it is just this presupposed unity and the principles of apHoh and knowledge to which it gives rise, which criticism must seek to 20 INTKODUCTION. chap. discover, in order that by them it may test the particular ele- ments of the knowledge or supposed knowledge which we already possess. This may be expressed by saying that Criticism has to discover the a priori elements of knowledge. This expression, it is true, is usually taken in another sense, as meaning that which is attributable to the mind as opposed to what it gets from experience. And when we come to treat of the special form in which the problem of criticism presented itself at first to Kant, we shall have to take account of this division of the parts of knowledge, and to discuss its validity more fully. But here, where we are dealing with the problem of Criticism in general, without reference to the peculiarities of Kant's statement of it, it may be sufficient to point out that the broad division of a priori and a posteriori elements of knowledge, according to which the former is derived from the mind itself and the latter from without, must disappear, or at least must altogether change its meaning, so soon as the problem of criticism is understood. For the opposition of a priori to a posteriori, as different parts of knowledge, really rests on a confusion of the distinction of the subject and the object of knowledge with the distinction of mind and matter as different objects of knowledge. But so soon as it is recognised that no object of knowledge is given apart from its relation to the subject, it becomes impossible to say that any part of knowledge is purely a posteriori, in the sense of being due to the object as apart from the consciousness for which it is. And so soon as it is recognised that the subject comes to the knowledge of its faculty, i.e., of itself, only in and through the knowledge of objects, it becomes equally impossible to say that any part of knowledge is purely a priori, in the sense of being present to the mind apart from all consciousness of objects. In the sense of criticism, therefore, the name a priori can be applied only to those elements of truth which are pre- supposed in all consciousness of objects — which are, so to speak, the first stones in the foundation of the temple of knowledge or, to take another metaphor, the seeds from which all know- I- THE IDEA OP CRITICISM. 21 ledge has to grow. They are, in other words, the principles through which all other truth is and must be seen, and which, therefore, are not capable of being treated like special facts or laws which are to be put on equal terms with other facts or laws. This view of the a priori element of knowledge carries us Basis of unity " in all con- back to Kant's dictum about scepticism, which he declares to be 0^™.°^° °' no true criticism, because in refuting dogmatism, it did not go back to the point at which dogmatism diverged from the true road of knowledge, i.e., it did not go back to the very idea of truth on which all doctrines, which profess to be true, implicitly claim to be founded. The idea before Kant's mind is that all kinds of thinking consciousness, must proceed up to a certain , point along a common path ; and that, therefore, there is a basis of common understanding between all minds, whether they be dogmatists or sceptics, and whatever they affirm or deny. This might be otherwise expressed by saying that all assertion and denial must take place within the limits of the intelligible. We caii disprove a particular dogma, but in doing so our attitude cannot be purely negative, any more than when we prove it. For, in the former case as in the latter, we inevitably imply, even if we do not express, some idea of truth by which we test, or in relation to which we accept or reject it. The sceptic, like all other rational beings, has his presuppositions, and he gets his apparent advantage over his adversary only because he con- ceals, or even perhaps is not aware of them. His advantage is simply that he strikes from the dark at an enemy in the light. Drag him from his covert, and you find that every weapon which he uses can be retorted against himself. All rational attack and defence must rest on, and appeal to, certain general prin- ciples which make the assailant and the defender intelligible to each other : and the sceptic, so soon as he begins to speak, takes his stand along with his opponent upon the general basis of intelligence. To attempt, as the Sceptic proposes to do, to deny the very idea of knowledge, — ^hich alone makes his statement 22 INTEODUCTION. chap. intelligible to himself and to his opponent, and furnishes the only common ground upon which they can meet, — is like attempting to wrestle with an opponent while our feet are in the air. The intelligence can no more hoist itself out of the intelligible world by any process of argument, than the body can lift itself out of the material world. On the contrary, as I have already indicated, the very effort after absolute denial which the sceptic makes, must tend to bring to light principles which his scepticism does not and cannot assail, principles which it seems able to assail onlj^ from a confusion of the universal with the particular, of the idea of truth with a particular truth, re^es^s""*^"*' The conscious need of a criticism, which shall disclose these necessary. ultimate bases of truth and thus give definiteness to the idea of knowledge, arises, as we have seen, out of the failure of the first immediate constructive effort of thought, which Kant calls dogmatism.! It is to the consciousness of such failure, indeed, that we owe even the origin of science, which begins in doubt or wonder,^a doubt or wonder which is produced by the apparent inconsistency of phenomena with each other. For what such doubt or wonder betrays is that the mind has been proceeding on certain principles or presuppositions in the con- struction of its experience into a whole, and that in doing so, it has met with an obstacle, and has found itself unable to combine the new experience with previous experience without a change of these presuppositions. A phenomenon excites wonder because it is not what we expected, because it will not fit into a place in our general plan of things, but comes into colHsion with other phenomena according to the view we have been used to take of them. If we had no expectations, nothing could surprise us. Our surprise means that there is a difficulty in interpreting appearances according to the mental scheme or plan of their connexion we have hitherto adopted. But it is 1 When we speak of ordinary opinion as ' dogmatic,' we are not using the term with strict accuracy. A dogma, properly speaking, must be a general principle or law. I- THE IDEA OF CRITICISM. 23 just such a difficulty which also for the first time directs attention to the existence of that scheme or plan, or to some element in it, which has hitherto been in operation without being specially attended to. To' take an example which carries us back to an early period in the history of science. The determination of things as to their quantity must have begun with assertions as to their relative size or weight, or the rela- tive intensity of some of their qualities. But such assertions were soon found to be wavering and uncertain, affected by every change in the circumstances of the individual who made them. The dogmatism of individual opinion, and the scepticism as to the possibility of objective quantitative judgments, which naturally arose from such collisions of opinion, ended in direct- ing attention to the universal implied in them. A regress of thought upon this universal was therefore made by some early critical philosopher, who set himself to consider the nature of quantity ia general and the principle of its determination. Arithmetic and Geometry arose out of this effort of reflection.. The relations of discreet and continuous quanta were dis- entangled from the mass of concrete detail in which they had been concealed, and the abstract development of these relations furnished a basis on which the first accurate knowledge of things, so far as they are quanta, could be founded. For so soon as the general principles presupposed in all quantitative judgments had been brought to light, a rule was found, accord- ing to which observations could be connected together and new results developed out of them. The a priori synthesis of the mathematical sciences, to use an expression of Kant, furnished a means for the anticipation of particular phenomena, the rela- tions of which must be conformable to the principle through which alone particular quantitative judgments could be made. This critical regress upon the universal, therefore, at once put an end both to dogmatism and to scepticism, and made mathe- matical knowledge enter upon the " secure path of science." '• 1 Cf. the preface to the second edition of the Critique of Pure Reason, B. x. 24 INTEODUCTION. ^^■*^- sif^ofersu'ch ^0''^ similar remarks might be made in the case of all that regress. ^^ ^^y^ scieiice : its first occasion always lies in some collision of appearances with each other in our first synthesis of them. And the only way of escape from the doubt and difficulty thus produced has always been to discover the principle implied in such synthesis, and to develop it into a system of relations, which might serve as a guide in all particular judgments in relation to the class of objects which fell under that principle. Each science is thus the development of some general principle which was already involved in our first unreflective judgments about the subject matter of the science. As, however, in such judgments the principle in question was not present to the mind as an object, but only as an unregarded presupposition, so its application was naturally capricious and uncertain, and could not fail in the long run to give rise to difficulty and even contradiction, and such difficulty and contradiction could be removed only by bringing the presupposition to light and discovering all that was involved in it. Now all the principles of the sciences are ultimately particular developments of the one general presupposition of all science, viz., that the world is an intelligible whole. In other words, the latent assumption which every intelligence carries with it, that all phenomena form parts of one consistent system relative to thought, is the stimulus which forces us to seek for some way of reconciling apparently inconsistent facts : and it is our failure in our first attempts at such reconciliation which makes us turn our attention to the ■universal involved in these facts, as a principle by which the relations of particulars may be determined. It is thus that the critical regress becomes the means of a new progressive movement of science and enables it to strike into a hitherto untried path, along which it may proceed securely and rapidly without being troubled with the misgivings of scepticism or the conflict of dogmatisms. ^new'cSa-'' Science, however, soon forgets the doubt in which it arose. Once started on a definite line of inquiry, each science seems cism. I- THE IDEA OP CRITICISM. 25 to go on accumulating truth upon truth without being obliged to retract anything it has once ascertained. It is in fact only when checked in its course that the mind turns back upon itself, nor would it ever occur to it to criticise a principle and a method which was every day being applied with success in the extension of knowledge. The question whether knowledge is possible, is precluded in such a case by the fact that it exists, and all doubt disappears before the solvitur amlulando of advancing science. In modern times this claim of success has been, put forward with special emphasis in behalf of the mathematical and physical sciences, which have long over- passed the struggles of their youth. And a contrast is often drawn between their steady advance and the perpetual alter- nations of dogmatism and scepticism without any apparent progress, which has been seen in the sphere of metaphysic. How are we to account for this difference ? Are we to take it as an indication that the objects of metaphysic are, essentially and in the nature of things, beyond the possibility of knowledge ? And if so, how are we to account for the inextinguishable life which seems to belong to such investigations, which constantly spring up again even in partibus.infidelium, — even in the works of those who profess to have renounced metaphysic ? Or shall we take it as an indication that in this region scepti- cism has never gone deep enough to become criticism, and to define that universal, the reality of which seems to be evi- denced by our continual tendency to use it in particular judg- ments, though its definition has never been ascertained in such a way as to bring metaphysic into " the secure path of science " ? It is somewhat in this form that Kant presents the problem Contrast be- ■^ tween tne to us in the preface to the second edition of the Critique. The |[°l?°°g'y,^£* sciences of Mathematics and Physics seem to be secure in themselves, because they exist, and because they are continually developing new results ; while Metaphysic evinces a tendency to dogmatism, which is balanced by an equal tendency to an 26 INTEODUCTIOlSr. chap. opposite dogmatism, and is, therefore, continually brought back to its beginning by scepticism. Theprobiem jf y^Q igok a little closcr at this result, we find, as Kant due to the ' ' sote™e!/^\ intimates, one aspect of it which may at once lead us to a ' clearer view of the difSculty, and put us in the way of solving it. The metaphysical problem, which gives rise to the conflict of opposite dogmatisms with each other and with scepticism, is not entirely distinct from the problem of physical and mathe- matical science. On the contrary, it is in the attempt to universalise the principles of such science that the metaphysi- cal diiSculty makes its appearance. These principles have a sphere in which they are continually verifying themselves by making new conquests, and therefore, the intelligence is only following a natural impulse when it tries to use them as guides in other spheres. So long as we are dealing with the material world, we find no reason to doubt their applicability ; why should we hesitate to apply tliem to the solution of questions as to the spiritual world, — questions as to the nature of the soul, the mode of its presence in the world, and the way in which it acts and is acted upon by other beings and things ? When, however, we attempt thus to extend them, when we try to apply in this new region the principles which have led to such successes in mathematics and- physics, we are at once brought into collision with some of the most deeply rooted con- victions of man in regard to the spiritual world ; we are even led to doubt the very existence of such a world. Now, it cannot be denied that, besides and beyond the objects of the external or physical world, there are stHl many objects or sup- posed objects round which the thoughts of man have turned in aU ages. The higher interests of man, those interests that are most distinctive of man, centre, according to Kant, in the three great ideas of God, Freedom, and Immortality : or, to put it in another point of view, in the ideas of the soul, as a spiritual and self-determining subject ; of the world, as a system which in all its variety and change yet maintains rational order and '• THE IDEA OF CRITICISM. 27 unity with itself ; and finally of a divine unity, which is at once the source and the end of the intelligence and the intelli- gible world. But any attempt to apply to the objects of these ideas the principles which enable us to make the material world intelligible, is equivalent to a denial of their existence. To suppose the existence of such objects under conditions of space and time, — and they must fall under such conditions if Mathematics is to be applied to them, — involves a contradiction. To treat them as objects externally determined by other objects, according to the law of physical causation, — as would be required if they were to be brought into the sphere of Physics, — involves a still more obvious contradiction. If the soul be taken as such an object, it must be conceived simply as an attribute of the body or a series of phenomena occurring in it. We must then treat it exactly like other objects in the external world, and deny to it any independent, self-determining power. And if on this view we cannot regard the soul as standing in any exceptional position in the world, neither can we regard the world as corresponding in any special way to it, or as having in itself any unity other than that of an endless aggre- gation of externally determined and externally determining objects in space, which pass in consequence of this determina- tion through definite changes in time. N'or lastly, can God be anything but another name for this aggregate. If, on the other hand, these ^conclusions are resisted ; and if, on the ground of any spiritual functions of man's Kfe, on the ground of the facts of knowledge or of moral action, it be maintained that the con- scious subject is more than one of the facts or objects he knows, more than one of the links in the chain of natural causation, still more if it be maintained that that chain itself is but the phenomenon of a higher reality ; then the principles of Mathe- matics and Physics themselves seem to be brought in question; and in particular the principle of physical casuality, which ^:^^i»«<«*i^ underlies all the achievements of modern science, seems to be deprived of its universal validity. And if it be admitted to be 28 INTRODUCTION. ''^■^^• not universally valid, a doubt is thereby cast on its validity even in the sphere in which it is still allowed to prevail; at least until some higher principle is found by which that sphere may be limited and defined. In any case, the intelligence can- not rest in the conception of a dual or divided world without some principle to mediate between the different laws which are supposed to rule it; some principle which may make the dualism intelligible and at the same time carry us beyond it. It is impossible that we can be content to put two distinct principles and the spheres of their application side by side without seeking for a deeper principle to which their difference is subordinate. The same impulse, which in the first instance forced men to ask for some explanation of the inconsistency of appearances and. which thereby gave rise to science, must also impel them to reconcile their conflicting consciousness of natural and spiritual reality, either by a negation of the difference between them (in other words, by the assertion that " all is spiritual," or that " all is natural "), or by the discovery of the nature of that unity, which is already in a certain sense present to our minds in so far as we are conscious of each in relation to the other. Doubt A doubt of the principles of mathematical and physical reflected back upon Science, ggience Kant considered to he irrational, if not impossible, at least so long as our minds remain within the peculiar sphere of these sciences. At the same time he acknowledged that a reflex doubt is cast both upon these principles and upon the science that is built upon them, so soon as an attempt is made to carry them beyond that sphere.^ For this attempt, as he argued, gives rise to a conflict of dogmatisms which shows that the mind was no longer moving in the "secure path of science." Such reflex doubt, which properly affects only the universality of the principles involved, cannot be set aside, until we find a deeper principle, which shall at once explain the relative validity of these subordinate principles in a particular sphere and their lA. 87; B. 120. I- THE IDEA OF CRITICISM. 29 restriction to that sphere. For, so long as such a deeper prin- ciple is not forthcoming, and so long as by means of it the line is not definitely drawn, so as securely to determine the relative limits of 'the subordinate principles, so long doubt must hover on the borders of physical and mathematical science, and even at times make incursions upon it. Thus a doubt which would not affect such sciences taken in themselves, in so far as they make up a coherent whole of knowledge completely rounded in itself and determined by its own principles, is awakened against them so soon as we are led to suspect that the world they define is not a complete whole, but only a part which stands in necessary relation to other parts that cannot be brought under the same laws. For if this should prove to be the case, then the truth which is found in these sciences must be regarded as a truth of abstraction ; or in other words, as the necessary logical result of an hypothesis, which is not absolutely or uni- versally true. If the physical world is not really a separate") world, not a complete whole limited and terminated by its own principles, these principles cannot be regarded as true, but only as the expression of a partially false, though it may be necessary, hypothesis. The meaning of this statement will be better understood, if f°^^°l^ we consider that, even within the limits of the sciences in *^° '^^■'"'o"- question, we find it necessary to work upon abstract hypotheses, which we have to correct as we advance by the re-introduction of qualifying truths which were for the moment neglected. In other words, we have, for the purposes of a particular science, to state as absolute or universal truth what we are afterwards obliged to acknowledge to be true only within conditions which are never exactly fulfilled. Or we are obhged to treat as whole realities, as, to use Spinoza's language, res completae, existences which we are afterwards obliged to recognise as incapable of being severed from their connexion with other elements in a wider whole. Thus Arithmetic, e.g., is an abstract, and so far a > hypothetical, science — a science based upon a hypothesis which 30 INTKODTJCTION. °^-*-^- is not absolutely true. The computations of Arithmetic would be exactly true, only if the beings and things to which they have to be applied, the beings and things of the natural and spiritual world, were mere units, having no relations except that they are capable of being externally added to one another ; and if, when thus added, they produced no further effect upon each other. Now this is not strictly true of anything in the world, not true even of two pieces of what we call dead matter, which are what they are just because they attract and repel each other chemically or mechanically, and which, when combined, are never merely the sum of their parts. It is still less true of , organic beings either in their relation to each other or in the relations of their different parts. Por in the case of such beuigs, there is a sense in which, in spite of Arithmetic, the whole is in every part. The value of the category of number descends as we ascend in the scale of existence, and, though it never ceases to have some place in our knowledge even of the highest spiritual relations, yet in regard to them it merely enables us to give a first superficial characterisation, through which we pass rapidly to more adequate views. Often, in such cases, the idea of number appears to be introduced rather to make its inadequacy an epigrammatic starting-point for the apprehension of that which is beyond number, as when it is said that " one with God is a majority '' ; or as in the dictum of Novalis, " it is certain that my conviction gains infinitely the moment one other soul believes with me." In all these cases, of course, the arithmetical relation is present, .but in no case is it present alone, as in the numbers of Arithnaetic. Hence the value of Arithmetic, in helping us to explain any phenomenon, is in inverse ratio to the complexity and comprehensiveness of the phenomenon itself In the same way, the physical and chemical aspects of matter, as in their increasing complexity they presuppose and transcend each other, force,&pon us a con- tinual correction of the abstraction which was necessary in order CO the first development of special sciences. And, even to ex- I- THE IDEA OP CRITICISM. 31 plain the simplest substance of the inorganic world, we need to reinstate the unity which we have broken up for the purposes of investigation. It may, however, be argued that this abstraction, and there- Are the so- . p . p ■ T called concrete fore imperfection of science, disappears, when we reach the sciences an ^ ' J. J. J exception? more complex sciences which deal with actual objects in all their physical qualities. Thus it might appear that if pure Mathematics is abstract, its abstraction is corrected by Physics, and the correction is completed by Chemistry; for in the range of these sciences we deal with every quality which belongs to what we call dead matter, and though these quali- ties may be said to form only one part of what is to be explained in the nature of living beings, yet they form the whole nature of things that are inorganic. And the same remark might be applied to all the successive complexities introduced in the life of plants, of animals, and of men. In each stage it might be said that the scientific principles, which are abstract when regarded as explaining only part of the nature of the more complex being, and which, therefore, in that reference may be treated as hypothetical, are concrete and capable of expressing the whole truth that can be ascertained in reference to the being which is less complex. Thus the thing or being, which has no higher quality than that which it is the object of a particular science to investigate, may be fully defined without trespassing beyond the limits of that science, or introducing any categories or principles not employed in it. To this, however, it may be answered that, even if we Even they are ' " abstract. confine ourselves to the natural world, it is impossible to conceive the inorganic without reference to the organic which determines it, and by which it is determined. It is true that there are objects which exhibit in themselves only what we caU physical properties, but it is not true that the physical or merely inorganic can be completely and adequately compre- Jhended without reference to the organic, with which it is 32 INTEODUCTION. chap. united in one world. To say that the inorganic world might exist without the organic, is to turn a convenient abstraction into a res completa. The distinction of secondary from I primary qualities, the former of which are supposed to be relative to a sensitive subject and the latter to belong to things in themselves, and the use made of this distinction in Physics, already shows us that the physical world, regarded apart from its relations to organisms, is no longer the physical world of our experience, but a world of pure mechanical attractions and repulsions, of motions that never reveal themselves as colours or sounds, as pressure or heat, as taste or smell. And if we are still able to separate the relations of sensible objects in space, as moving and acting and reacting on each other, from their relation to the organs of sense, it is not because we can treat matter in its primary qualities as a thing in itself, independent of relation to anything not inorganic, but because these qualities more obviously involve a relation to a subject which is not merely sensitive but conscious.^ It follows therefore, that the truths of Physics are hypothetical, not merely as regards the living organism, which is only partially explicable through them, but also as regards the inorganic world itself We are taking for absolute truth a false abstrac- tion — though an abstraction which is serviceable for the purposes of a particular science — when we regard the inorganic ^ I cannot expect that what is said above -will he of itself clear or convincing. To say that the inorganic is essentially relative to the organic, and that the neglect of that relation, however useful and even necessary for the purposes of physical science, leads to an abstract and incomplete view even of matter, is a statement which involves such an inversion of ordinary modes of thought and ordinary methods of explanation that it cannot be expected to pass without ^ challenge. And to say further that both inorganic and organic alike are relative to the unity of consciousness, in such a sense that no ultimate explanation of either can be given apart from this relation, involves not only the whole argument of Kant, but carries it to a result which even Kant never completely accepted. The main objections to such a theory and the main reasons for it will be discussed in the sequel. Here it is stated merely with a view to meet an objection and to complete the preliminary expression of that point of view which, as I think, a consistent critical philo- sophy must take up. J- THE IDEA OP CRITICISM. 33 as necessary for the organic, but deny that the organic is equally necessary for the inorganic. If, therefore, there be any new principles necessary to explain the organic world, which go beyond the principles of pure Physics and Mathe- matics, it is a mere illusion to say that we can completely explain the inorganic world without these principles. On the contrary, all the parts of the one world, which includes both the organic and the inorganic, ultim.ately need for their explanation the highest category which is necessary to explain any one of them. The same idea may be still more obviously seen to hold dan nature be '' explained good in relation to all attempts to explain the natural world 3^^*^°°' apart from its relation to the principle manifested in the life of self-conscious or spiritual beings. There is no possi- bility of explaining nature apart from spirit if spirit is more than merely a part of nature on a level with the other parts, or if there is anything in it that goes beyond the limits of what is in them. We cannot explain the latter without the former, unless we can explain the former by the latter. If man is not merely the child of nature, capable of complete explanation by its physical and vital agencies, then nature cannot be taken as a system which is complete in itself apart from man, or in which the presence of man is but an accident. The strange conclusion of those Physicists who, finding them- selves unable to explain consciousness as one of the physical forces, were driven by the necessity of their logic to the hypothesis that consciousness produces no result at all in the world which it contemplates, illustrates this difficulty. Science must inevitably treat the spiritual either as natural or as non- existent, if it is not prepared to admit the imperfect or merely abstract truth of its own principles. There are no alternatives but either to press the physical explanations j to their , last result and so to reduce the spiritual world to the natural ; or, on the other hand, to admit that there is, properly speaking, no such thing as a merely natural world, though in the > VOL. I. c 34 INTRODtrCTION. CS&.P. necessary abstraction of science, we must speak as if there were one. If, therefore, it be once admitted, that there is a limit to the validity of physical explanations, and that therefore they are in a sense hypothetical, we are forced by the very interest out of which science arises, to seek for a deeper principle, in which that limit finds its explanation. Keed to 'level xhc idea lust suffs'ested is one which we cannot stop to up m Science. '^ ~^ consider fully, still less to justify ; but it may be useful to give it clearness by comparing it with the idea which is most frequently set up in opposition to it. The prevailing method of explaining the world may be described as an attempt to "level downwards," i.e., to take the lowest forms of existence as the explanation of those that stand higher in the scale, and to universalise the principles which are implied in the scientific determination of these forms. In this way it is sought to carry back Psychology to Biology, Biology to Chemistry, and Chemistry to Physics. The doctrine of development, inter- preted as that idea usually is interpreted, supports this view, as making it necessary to trace back, higher and more complex to lower or simpler forms of being ; for the most obvious way of accomplishing this task is to show analytically that there is really nothing more in the former than in the latter. And this again seems to find a kind of empirical support in the geological or astronomical regress, which carries us back to a time when the earth was yet incapable of supporting even the simplest forms of life and when, therefore, the inorganic existed without the organic. This view of things, however plausible it may be, cannot, for reasons already partially stated, be allowed to be more than plausible. For though, by an act of abstraction, it may be possible to treat the inorganic world as if it were essentially unrelated to the organic, and though we may picture to ourselves a time when the world ^ was stin uninhabited even by the simplest forms of life, the world which we thus represent is a world of which we can say nothing, except in terms that necessarily imply a relation I- THE IDEA OF CRITICISM. 35 to that sensitive and conscious being which we pretend to remove from it. If we could carry out our abstraction to its legitimate result, we should ijpso facto annihilate the very- thought of an inorganic world, or of any world or object at all. We must, therefore, recognise that the inorganic world is only by abstraction separated from the organic, and the unconscious ^ object from the consciousness for which it is object. Not only, therefore, must we deny that the explanation, which seems to be sufficient for matter, is sufficient for life and mind, but, since matter is necessarily related to mind, we must deny that the explanation in question is sufficient even for matter. We must, therefore, invert the method of explanation which has just been referred to, and we must say that the ultimate interpretation even of the lowest existence in the world cannot be given except on principles which are adequate to explain the highest. We must " level up " and not " level down " : we must not only deny that matter can explain spirit, but we must say that even matter itself cannot be fully understood except as an element in a spiritual world. In the above statement I have anticipated the result of an f-^^^^''^^^^. inquiry which has yet to be made. For the present I shall Svanoe!™"'^ use it only to illustrate the way in which the progressive movement of science, as it advances from the lower to the higher forms of existence, ever gives new occasion for a critical regress, in search of categories and principles higher than those which have been already used. Such a regress, as we have seen, was involved even in the first movement of thought which originated mathematical science. It was repeated in the determination of the conceptions that furnish the basis and rule for the investigations of physical science. And it has become necessary to repeat it again at the present time, because the great progress of physical science has led to an attempt to extend its principles not only to life, but even to mind. The first regress brought order into the mathematical Sciences by directing attention to the pure idea of space and 36 INTRODirCTION. chap. to the principles of its determination, as well as to all the other laws that determine the relations of things as mere quanta. The Pythagorean doctrine, that reality consists in numbers, expressed the consciousness of a time when this first step in science was achieved, and when it was not yet perceived that it is an explanation, not of the world as a whole, but only of one aspect of it abstracted from all the others. The category of quantity alone seemed to be needed to make all nature intelligible. It might be said with no great unfairness that the science of the Ancients never got beyond this stage, and even that the mistake was a fortunate one for the progress of that mathematical science, which was required as the first condition of all other science. But physical science could not be prosecuted with any success until the abstractness of this method of explaining things was recognised, until it was made manifest that its solutions did not apply to the material world as we know it, but only to an 'ideal world of pure quantity, pure space, and pure time. "When this was seen, the transition from mathematical to physical conceptions became a necessity; in other words, a principle had to be sought which should at once limit the mathematical conception, of matter and bring that conception into subordination to a more complex view of it, as not merely extended but resistent, not merely passively capable of being divided and re-united, but possessed of active energy to repel and to attract. The modern philosophers, Descartes and Spinoza, were still to some extent under the sway of the mathematical synthesis of the Ancients, as is shown by their identification of matter with extension, and by their treatment of it as essentially inert.' But the abstract discussions in which they were engaged, and especially the controversy which arose between the followers of Descartes and those of Leibniz as to the idea of force, eon- ^ Spinoza still speaks of res exteima, though in one of his letters (70) he. objects to the Cartesian view of matter as inert. To this he was naturally led by the parallelism of' extension and thought. I- THE IDEA OP CRITICISM. 37 tain many traces of the critical process by which a new conception of the material world established itself. Such discussions were partly occasioned by the advance of physical science, but partly also they assisted that advance by making scientific men conscious of the new categories and methods necessary for the new region of investigation into which they were entering. It is only a narrow view of results without reference to the categories or principles that make them possible, that could overlook the great though indirect effect of these abstract discussions in giving distinctness of aim to science. ' For nature only answers the questions that are asked of her, and the reason why discoveries are made at a particular time lies, not merely in the increased knowledge of facts, — -which in themselves have no meaning unless they are collected with a view to some particular problem to be solved by them,— but in that ripening of the intelligence to self-consciousness which causes certain questions to be asked, a ripening which ex- presses itself above all in the progress of philosophy.^ It is perhaps a significant fact, that it was on the controversy between the Cartesians and the Leibnizians as to the nature of ^, force that Kant wrote his first treatise. He who in his youth discerned the importance of the transition from mathematical to physical conceptions, and the necessity of subordinating the former to the latter, was destined in his age to point the way to a more difficult transition, the transition from the conceptions which are sufficient to explain the material world, taken as an independent thing in itself, to that idea of it which is necessary when it is discovered that that world has essential relations to a conscious subject. Now there is a certain parallelism between the two transi- J^^l'];^;^,^ tions iust spoken of The consciousness of the necessity of "^''S"™'' . . _ . regress. advancing from mathematical to physical prmciples arose m I Another instance of this may be foiind in the development of the idea of Evolution in the writings of Kant and his Idealistic successors prior to the • great scientific movement which that idea has inspired. 38 INTRODUCTION. CH'^^- connexion with an attempt to extend the former beyond their proper sphere, and to treat them as adequate for the complete explanation of the material world. For this led immediately to a perception of the inadequacy of these principles, or in other words, of the way in which facts must be distorted in order to make them explicable by such principles. The extravagance of the Cartesian hypothesis itself awakened a protest and a controversy, which was not settled until the limits of a merely mathematical explanation of physical pheno- mena were established, and the idea of quantity was subordinated to the idea of force or physical causality. In like manner, the necessity for an advance beyond physical principles was first felt, when the attempt was made to extend them to a sphere in which they ceased to be adequate. Physical science had gained its triumphs mainly under the guidance of the principles of the permanence of substance, of the necessary connection of the successive states of substances under the law of cause and effect, and of the reciprocal determination of the states of coexistent substances by each other. It was by following out the chains of reasoning suggested by these principles, that all the great discoveries of the nature of the material world had been made. But the impulse of success naturally carried scientific men beyond the inorganic, and even the material, world, and made them reluctant to admit that there was any subject to which they were inapplicable or inadequate. Hence it became necessary to inquire whether these principles were really universal, or whether they had only seemed to be so, because they were hitherto applied to the material world alone, and even to it only from an abstract point of view from which its whole nature could not be under- stood. For the extension of physical principles into the region beyond Physics, was not unresisted; but on the contrary, it was met by an opposite dogmatism, already in possession of the field and supported at once by morality and religion. Further it was found that in this region the principles so I- THE IDEA OE CRITICISM. 39 fruitful in Physics could no longer be used with the same effect, but that they seemed themselves to create a dogmatic system of opinions, quite as much open to attack as that to which it was opposed. The intensity of the conflict which thus arises finds its measure only in the importance of the interests arranged on either side. On the one side, the intolerance, with which the scientific man regards any refusal to admit the universality of his method, really springs from one of the deepest intellectual instincts of man, which will not let him treat anything as truth that is not universally valid ; and with this instinct is combined that confidence in his own principles which a long experience of their power to unlock the secrets of nature has naturally produced. On the other hand, those who resist the extension of these principles to the new region, though often unable to oppose to them any distinct principle of their own, are supported by a consciousness of the facts of their own spiritual life, and by a perception that these facts, which to them are the most certain of all, must be treated as illusory if the claims of science be admitted. Yet they cannot but see that a merely defensive attitude is weak and intellectually untenable, and that it is impossible con- clusively to repel the scientific explanation of mind, except by showing that it is not a sufficient explanation even of matter. The world is one, and admits of only one ultimate principle of explanation, and if the claims of science are to be repelled, they must not only be resisted in one sphere but refuted in all. Each mode of thought is thus driven by an inner neces- sity, not only to maintain its own ground but to assail its rival, and out of the conflict arises that " Antithetic of Eeason," which has been the deepest source of modern scepti- cism. Nor can such scepticism be overcome except by a critical regress whiclr shall discover the basis and the limits of the physica,l conceptions of nature, and so bring nature itself into its true relation to spirit.^ ^ Of. the chapter of the Gritique upon " The interests of reason in this its antinomy." A. 462 ; B. 490. 40 INTRODUCTION. chap. Greater im- The necessitv of Criticism is, then, in a sense, peculiar to portanceofthe modern criti- ^jje modcrn time. It is true, indeed, that all the great advances cal regress. " of knowledge have been made on the principle of " reculer pour viieiox sauter." They have been regresses made necessary by the fact that the principles previously treated as universal were beginning to be found ineffectual, because they were used beyond the limits within which they are valid. But the necessity for such a regress has never before been felt so strongly, because it was never before the case that the principles claiming to be universal could appeal to such a long record of successes in the explanation of facts, and because, on the other hand, these claims never before came into collision with in- terests and beliefs which had so deep a hold upon the human spirit. The very development of our knowledge of the material world has forced us to ask with a new meaning whether the world is merely material, or at least, whether it can be com- pletely explained on the principles which have been found adequate to the explanation of the material world as such. In earlier times, the consciousness of the natural and of the .spiritual were, so to speak, fairly balanced against each other, or, if there was a preponderance, it was rather on the side of the spiritual. Their own consciousness occupied men so fully that nature seemed to be a mere attendant of their lives, without any independent being or power. A facile anthropomorphism either clothed natural phenomena with a vesture of humanity, or reduced them into secondary instruments of spiritual powers similar to those that ruled the life of man. Now, however, in consequence of the necessary order in which the sciences are developed, the tables have been turned. The natural sciences, just because of the greater simplicity of the principles on which they are founded, have been earlier in striking into the sichere Gang cler Wissenschaft. And their steady advance has redeemed so many and so great departments of study from the anarchy of the intdlectus sibi permissus, and turned them into, secure and intelligible possessions of human thought, that it seems all but THE IDEA OP CRITICISM. 41 impossible to resist their claims to pass the boundary which has hitherto been maintained against them — maintained, too, as it has mainly been, by the undrilled battalions of unscien- tific opinion, rather than by any rival army of science. Yet the passing of this boundary means nothing less than that spirit shall be included in nature, and that the methods and principles, which have been found sufficient to explain the latter, shall be treated as universal, and used also to explain the former. Even the maintenance of the status quo, still more the restoration and permanent confirmation of the old supre- macy of spirit over nature, is impossible, except by a regress of thought, which shall discover at the very basis of the concep- tion of nature a still higher principle of interpretation. If it is true that science has raised an abstraction, which includes only part of the elements of experience, into a principle for its universal explanation, this can only be shown by a deeper examination of those general principles, which are involved in the nature of the intelligence and of the intelligible world, on which science and ordinary experience alike are built, and by which 'all their special truths must be ultimately interpreted. Criticism, in this sense, has its source ultimately in the anti- Antinomy™ nomy between the principles of physical science and that un- scientific consciousness of spiritual reality which is expressed in rehgion and morality ; and immediately in the scepticism which is due to this antinomy, and which, rejecting both the unscientific and the scientific view (because of their opposition to each other), takes refuge in Agnosticism. It is an attempt to solve this antinomy by seeking out the sources of it or the unity that transcends it. It therefore seeks, in a sense, to get beneath both the ordinary and the scientific consciousness, but yet it cannot, as we have seen, propose to itself to go outside of them. It cannot find any point of view outside of experi- ence from which to criticise it. It can only go back, in Kantian language, upon the " conditions of possible experience • or knowledge," upon the principles that are involved in every wN- 42 INTRODUCTION. *^S-*-^- intelligible consciousness of things. It can only retrace the road of thought to the point from which the divergence of opposite dogmatisms begins, and so endeavour to find, in the general presuppositions under which we know both nature and spirit, in their opposition and in their unity with each other, the key to the inconsistency of the views which are presented i to us from two opposite quarters. But, this being presupposed, we see at once the twofold bearing of the proposed inquiry, as an attempt to find a way heyond natural science to some con- clusion or conviction, whether scientific or not, as to the things of the spirit, by going hack upon the preconditions of natural science itself. It is an attempt to find a key to the difference and opposition of the two divergent forms in which knowledge or belief presents itself, by asking for a definition of the genus within which both species must fall. Por it is obvious that if there is any reason for the assertion that the principles of physical science are not capable of being applied, e.g., to man's moral and religious experience, this reason must be sought in the unity which embraces all forms of experience ; and, if con- versely there is no room left in the very idea of experience for such an opposition of its forms, the opposition must itself be pronounced to be an illusion. The freedom of spirit can vindicate itself against the necessity of nature, only if it is possible to lift the controversy into a region in which those two are no longer left dogmatically opposed to each other, but placed in due relation through the one principle which explains, the possibility of each kind of experience, or even, if it be so, , of seeming experience. Regreaa ^^ The rcsult of all that has been said is thus to show the two- necessary to progress. f^j^ naturc of the work of criticism. Criticism is always the result of the fact that the intelligence has found its way blocked by some difficulty, which has awakened a suspicion against the universal applicability of the categories or methods which it had been using. In this sense criticism was at the very birth of science, and it has mediated every transition to a new I- THE IDEA OF CRITICISM. 43 point of view, by which science has widened the scope of its investigations and brought the concrete fact of the world in its diversity and unity more definitely within the reach of the in- telligence. But in a peculiar sense it may be said to be the special intellectual task of the present age, just because the special obstacle to science with which we have now to deal, lies in the opposition, and — for the ordinary consciousness at least — the fixed opposition, between the material and the spiritual world. This last and greatest division of thought against itself cannot present itself to us without awakening a perception of the greatness of the interests, which are here apparently set against each other. But as there can be no absolute oppositions within the intelligible world, i.e., no oppo- sitions which have not a principle of unity beneath their dif- ferences, — and as, indeed, such a unity is implied in the state- ment of any difference as an intelligible difference, — so we are obliged to think that the key to the problem, the means of reconciling the opposition or removing it, will be found, if we can clearly determine what that principle of unity is. For such a principle must enable us, and it alone can enable us, to define the opposing elements in their relation to each other, or to determine the limits of their respective validity. The critical regress thus raises a new question for philosophy^ or it raises the old question in a way in which it was put by no previous philosophy. It is a regress upon the beginnings of the know- ledge which we have, with a view to a kind of knowledge which we have not, at least in the form in which we desire it. For the ultimate aim of the metaphysical or ontological inves- tigations which immediately seek only for the basis of Physics and Mathematics, in other words, of the science of nature, is to prepare the way for a new Psychology, Cosmology, and Theo- logy — or at least, for some new determination of the natural and the spiritual worlds in their relations to each other, which shall take the place of the so-called sciences that have hitherto borne these lofty names. In short, the ultimate aim of 44 INTRODUCTION. chap. i. criticism is to settle the possibility of an idealistic interpreta- tion of the universe, and, if it is possible, to determine the form which such an interpretation must take. Immediately, it has to do with what have been called " the first things," but its ultimate aim is " the last things " of the intelligible world. It is a new Logic which, preparing the way for a new view of man and God, casts a new light also upon nature ; for, as we have seen, nature must take a new aspect if it be conceived as standing in a necessary relation to spirit and not as including it. A nature so related can be no closed system of purely physical relations ; it must be conceived as part of a greater whole, and it may even be the case that, in the ultimate account of it, we may have to regard it as the necessary mani- festation of spirit. To say this, however, is to anticipate the conclusion of the inquiry which we are now beginning. 45 CHAPTEK II. kant's relation to his time, his life and chaeactee. HEG-EL speaks of certain great writers who are like knots in Kace o£ Kant ■^ ° in the History the tree of human development, at once points of con- "' Philosophy, centration for the various elements in the culture of the past and starting points from which the various tendencies of the new time begin to diverge. In the history of thought there is no one to whom this saying can be applied with more 'confi- dence than to Kant. In the German phrase, he " makes an epoch " — the end of one mode of thought and the beginning of another. His works form a kind of bridge by which we pass from the ruling conceptions of the eighteenth to those of the nineteenth century. And the reason is, that he brings together all the elements of the thought of the eighteenth century in such a way that a new and higher thought springs from their union. To use the words of Green, he "read Hume with the eyes of Leibniz and Leib- niz with the eyes of Hume,'' and therefore, " he was able to rid himself of the presuppositions of both, and to start a new method of philosophy." i In other words, he effected such a synthesis of the different tendencies of his time as carried him beyond their one-sidedness, and thereby lifted philosophical discussion to a new level. There is even some excuse for a German writer who refuses to take account of any philosophical thinker 1 Green's Works, I. 3. 46 INTKODUCTION. CHAP. after Kant, unless he can be shown to have listened to Kant's lesson. A modern philosophy may not be Kantian, but it must have gone through the fire of Kantian criticism, or it will almost necessarily be something of an anachronism and an ignoratio elenchi. TheAgeofEn- How are we to describe the great change which came over lightenment. ... human thought towards the end of the last, and the begmnmg of this century ? In general terms we may say that it was a change from division to reconciliation, from Individualism and Atomism to a renewed perception that the whole is prior to the parts, and that individual independence must rest on social unity. Or, to put all in a word, it was the substitution of the idea of organic unity and development for the idea of the mechanical combination of reciprocally external elements. The eighteenth century called itself the " Age of Enlightenment," nor can there be any doubt that it loved light and hated darkness. But this love and this hate often misled it into denying the existence of anything which it could not see clearly. It insisted on abolish- ing mystery, and it regarded as mystery everything which was not finite, everything which could not be set by itself and clearly pictured by the sensuous imagination or defined by the logical understanding. It favoured a way of thinking which was clear and definite, but at the same time deficient in depth and suggestiveness. Art-critics speak of pictures as "wanting atmosphere," when the figures and forms in them stand out in hard outlines as if broken off from each other, instead of show- ing the graded transition and continuity of nature. A similar charge may be brought against many of the most powerful writers of the eighteenth century, who carry the desire for clearness to such a point, that they seem to make it a rule of composition that every sentence should be completely intelligible by itself, even if isolated from its context. And the same tendency limits the harmony and dries up the inspiration of poetry, producing a kind of verse, of which Pope's is the most consummate type, in which rhetorical point and emphasis takes II- LIFE AND WORK OP KANT. 47 the place of imaginative insight, and every thought and image, and almost every couplet stands stiffly by itself, so that the whole can scarcely be said to be more than the sum of the parts. The great words of the Shakesperian age, winged with music and laden with meaning, are silenced, and in place of them we have a definite lesson, enforced in lucid and pointed language, which can be fully understood at the first hearing. It would be absurd at this date to repeat the invectives of Good and bvu of the En- Carlyle against the godless age, in which religion and poetry lightenment. were extinguished and mechanism took the place of life. It is almost a law of human development that men should be unjust to their immediate predecessors, from whose yoke they have had to emancipate themselves ; but it is irrational to con- tinue the injustice after spiritual independence has been secured. We can now afford to recognise the great step in the liberation of humanity which was taken in the eighteenth century ; and we can do so without denying the truth of much that has been said on the opposite side. It was the age of Individualism, of Secularism, even, in a sense, of Atheism. It sought truth by dividing and isolating its parts, with the result often that the spiritual unity of truth disappeared in the process. This method was fatal to its insight into the higher life of men, and it was not without an unfavourable influence on its view of nature. For though it is that which is organic, that which has the unity of hfe, and above all, of conscious life, which suffers most injustice when it is treated as a mere sum or col- lection of parts externally related to each other, it is not possible that even the inorganic should be completely explained apart from any reference to its connexion with life and mind. For the world is one world, and it is impossible to reach the ultimate interpretation of any part or aspect of it, if we neglect its unity. Or, to put the same thought from another side, every object or system of objects must, in the last resort, be regarded as a microcosm, which is not only connected with the whole, •■ but in some sense reflects the whole ; and if we insist on treat- 48 INTRODUCTION. chap. ing it as a " thing in itself," as a thing which is completely determined apart from all such connexion or reflexion, we empty it of its highest meaning. The last word cannot be said of anything except in the light of the relation of all things to each other and to the mind that knows them, and the thought that neglects this ultimate relativity must in the long run narrow and externalise our view of everything. For, while there is nothing superficially so distinct and intelligible as the finite separated from the infinite, there is nothing, when we come to think it out, so obscure and unintelligible. In truth, the clearness of isolation is really due to the ignoring of the difficulty. We can escape the endless relativity which is hid beneath the separate existence of things, only by resolutely keeping to the surface. In this sense Kant justly says that " many a book would have been more intelligible, if its author had not laid himself out to be intelligible at all costs." A writer of true insight will not be vague and indefinite; he will set one object distinctly before us, but he will not tear it from its place in the whole; he will make us feel that it reaches beyond itself and takes hold of other things. Like the healthy eye, his thought will embrace much more than that which is the immediate object in the focus of clearest vision. The world will be for him a continuum, and not a mere collection of in- dependent and externally related objects. "ev?lopme°nt'" ^ct wHle all this is true, while the method of division and of Thought. jgQi^(;jQjj necessarily tends to superficiality, and while it is im- possible ultimately to separate finite things from each other and from the unity of the whole without at least a temporary loss to spiritual life, there is undoubtedly a sense in which such isolating thought is a necessary stage in the development of the human mind. The immediate, intuitive solutions of the problem of existence, which are the results of the first movement of con- structive imagination and religious feeling, have this peculiarity, that they deal with the whole problem at once. They orasp the unity of the world with itself and with the inteUio'ence "• LIFE AND WORK OP KANT. 49 without any regard to what Bacon calls ■ axiomata media.' They are everything at once or nothing. They meet every question as to the finite by relating it to the infinite. In this lies their strength and their weakness ; their strength, in so far as they go at once to the centre and deal directly with the ultimate truth of things ; and their weakness, in so far as it is impossible' for the ultimate truth of things to be ade- quately apprehended, when it is thus taken at a bound, or when it does not come as the last interpretation of all other trutl^ The highest unity can be reached only through a fully articulated difference, and the method of division and simplification is a necessary step in the progress of knowledge. Divide et impera is the motto of science. It is by abstraction and isolation of parts and aspects of the manifold world, that it becomes possible to deal successfully with the various problems it presents to us. And to separate the finite from the finite is necessarily at the same time to sep&,rate the finite from the infinite. Hence the individualism, the secular- ism, the dividing and dissecting methods of the eighteenth cen- tury, if in one point of view they narrowed and externalised the thoughts of men, were not without compensating advantages. If they were chargeable with an apparent, and in some respects a real, superficiality of view in relation to the deepest problems of man's existence, they quickened his apprehension of finite in- terests and objects. If they made his consciousness of himself • and of the world unpoetic and irreligious, at least they put to flight the spectres by which his higher life had so long been haunted. If they tended to substitute the mechanical for the vital and the spiritual, yet in doing so they opened up the way for the great achievements of physical science and the industrial arts ; and we have to remember that though life and spirit are more than mechanism, they are not without mechanism. To make man. a free possessor of the finite world, to enable him to understand and appreciate what is present to him in immediate ♦experience, to banish the supernatural from the natural world' VOL. I. i> 50 INTRODUCTION. *^^^^- and bring about a secure conviction of the reign of law — these were no small gains, even if they were purchased by a temporary weakening of the consciousness of the ideal meaning of life. And even that consciousness could only gain in the long run by a process that freed man's higher beliefs from the fatal alliance of a fanaticism which confused the spiritual with the supernatural. In separating the finite from the infinite, "Enlightenment" prepared the way for a consciousness of their relations which was at once purer and more rational, less dependent upon illusions of imagination and less tainted with the base alloy of " other-worldliness." Protest of The eighteenth century was primarily the age of Enlighten - u'ht'enmeli't mcnt. It is, howevcr, necessary to remember that, though this was its prevailing character, the opposite aspect of the truth was never left without a witness. On the contrary, throughout the whole period we fifed a chain of writers and preachers, who kept up a continuous protest against the spirit of the time. The one- sidedness of those who held that "the proper study of mankind was man " and his world — and not God, and that the highest morality of man was to " cultivate his garden," was balanced by a mysticism which regarded the things of this world as nothing. Methodism in England, like Pietism in Germany, expressed that revulsion which the Enlightenment produced in all deeply religious minds. This movement, indeed, prevailed mainly among the less educated classes, and it had no great literary representatives. All the prominent literary men of the time were enlisted in the service of the reigning ideas. But it is the province of impulse, with its implicit reason, to counterbalance the defects of conscious reason. A religious doctrine which made man the passive vessel of divine grace, was the natural counterpart and complement of the isolating individualism which recognised no vital or organic relations between man and man or between man and God. This undercurrent, which ran in an opposite direction to the main stream of tendency during the whole century, cannot be left out of view in any account of its II- LIFE AND WORK OP KANT. 51 main characteristics. For it was by means of the collision and conflict of the two opposite influences, that the more comprehen- sive ideas of the following era were developed. Towards the end of the century we find many indications that f^^f^ relation this new era was at hand. In France the Eevolution, which 'P''^'"^'^°^^- put an end to so many political compromises, was heralded by a series of writers- who broke through the theoretical compromises of English Individualism. In Diderot's unlimited protest against law and authority, and his unhesitating proclamation of the doctrine that impulse is its own justification, we see the individualistic tendency carried to an extreme in which it refutes itself ; whUe Eousseau's somewhat hesitating enunciation of the ideas of a raison commune and a volontd gdndraU, manifesting themselves in and through the varying opinions and wills of individuals, contains the germs of a new philosophy. In Germany the hard dogmatism of Wolff, who had popularised, and we might say vulgarised, the Monadism of Leibniz by leaving out all its deepest speculative ideas, gradually gave place to a vague and varying Eclecticism, which sought to combine the elements of many philosophies without any definite principle of reconciliation. Kant alone had the constructive power, the speculative insight, the patience, to form a true estimate of these various ideas and systems, and by combining the different tend- encies of the eighteenth century, to initiate a new philosophical movement. He alone saw how it was possible to unite the characteristic ideas of the Enlightenment, and especially it? rational conceptions of the order and connexion of finite experi- ence, with a new vindication of those higher beliefs which the Enlightenment had rejected. In this sense, we may fairly say that, with the single exception of .Goethe who worked in another field, Kant was the most potent of all the agents in the transition from the ideas of the eighteenth to those of the nineteenth century. It must be added, however, that in some points Kant suffers DefootsofMs for his position. That his writings, as above said, form a bridge 52 INTRODUCTION. chap. between the old and the new era, implies that he cannot be re- garded as strictly belonging to either. He was all his lifetime struggling to divest himself of the conceptions with which he started, and to develop another order of ideas to which, how- ever, he was never able to give free and unambiguous utterance. It would not be altogether unfair to say that he was constantly trying to pour new wine into old bottles. He uses the dead scholastic phraseology of the "Wolfifian philosophy to express the living thought of the new era, and there is, therefore, a fre- quent struggle between his ideas and his expression of them. Hence the many controversies about his meaning, some of which it is almost impossible to settle, because that meaning is continually in process of changing and deepening, so that the letter halts behind the spirit. Sometimes his words would induce us to give him credit for all that subsequent writers have found in them, or developed out of them; sometimes they tempt us to reduce his thought almost to the level of the dog- matism he was combatting. Such ambiguities, however, are no great hindrance to the student, if only he remembers their cause ; for the important thing is not so much to find a precise interpretation for every passage, important as that may be, as to observe the direction and the manner in which his thought is developing. Often the variation of his expression at different stages is full of instruction, as it forces us to retrace the path by which he advanced and to realise the difficulties involved in the subsequent transition. Mr. Sidgwick, speaking of Political Economy, says that in that science students are apt to overrate the importance of finding correct definitions and to underrate the importance of seeking them. With still greater truth it may be said that in Philosophy results can mean little or nothing to those who have not understood the process by which they were reached. And in the in,terpretation of Kant, we are not merely discovering interesting facts about the individual development of a great philosopher, not merely following the steps of one of the most patient and methodical of thinkers, "• LIFE AND WORK OF KANT. 53 who never took a step in advance until he was forced onward by the growing thought within him; we are, so to spealc, watching the process by which the new roads of modern thought were made. We are thus shaken out of the tendency to take for granted the ideas which are kindred with the spirit of our time instead of reproducing them for ourselves, and we are en- abled to appreciate the real value of these ideas and their rela- tion to the past. The very imperfections of Kant's statement are thus full of lessons, which we might not so readily gather from the more consistent language of those who came after him. A short sketch of Kant's life may be useful as a preparation slowness of Kant's mental for a more definite discussion of the steps by which he found defeiopment. his way to the idea of Criticism. He was born on the 22 nd April, 1724, in the city of Konigsberg in the province of East Prussia ; and during his long life of nearly eighty years he never once crossed the borders of that province. He lived , a quiet, studious life of teaching and writing, never taking part in any of the great events of his time or coming into contact, except officially, with any of the important actors in the political world. He was slow in his mental, and specially in his philosophical, development ; for, though in his early man- hood he published several short treatises of some importance, especially one in 1755 on the General Natural History avd Theory of the Heavens, in which he anticipated the ideas of La- place as to the formation of the solar and sidereal systems, his serious philosophical writing did not begin till he was nearly forty years of age, and it was not till his fifty-seventh year that he published his first great work, the Critique of Pure Reason ; and it was during the following twenty years that he displayed his greatest literary activity in applying the principles of Criti- cism to Morals, to Physics, to Aesthetics and to Theology. Kant was no brilliant intellectual adventurer like Berkeley, who had already conceived and uttered almost all his distinctive ideas before he left the University. He was a slow, ■ deep- 54 INTEODXTCTION. chap. mining thinker who had not only one great thought, but a whole philosophy almost full grown in his brain, before he began to set any part of it before the public. Influence of Kaut had a long and hard struggle with circumstances before Schultz. ^ he gained a position of independence. The son of a poor strap- maker, who had a large and delicate family, he seems to have owed his early education to the notice which he attracted from Franz Albrecht Schultz, an eminent pastor and professor who was also the head of the most important school of Konigsberg, the Collegium Fredericianum. By his piety, intelligence and practical energy, Schultz had gained the thorough confidence of that strange conscientious despot, Frederic William, the father of Frederic the Great ; and for about ten years he was main- tained by that king as a kind of dictator of Konigsberg and the province of East Prussia in all matters educational and theological. A man like Schultz, of such original force and in such a position, could not but impress the stamp of his character on the intellectual life of a city like Konigsberg, cut off as it was by its remote situation from extraneous iniluences. And when we remember the mediating and reconciling work which Kant was to undertake, we cannot but attach some importance to the fact that his early training was directed by a teacher who was the first, or one of the first, to conceive the possibility of com- bining the two great spiritual forces which were then striving for the victory in the German Universities, Pietism and the Wolffian Philosophy. Throughout Germany these two forces were opposed, and even bitterly opposed, to each other. For, as has been already indicated, the Wolffian Philosophy was a dogmatic Individualism in which the speculative elements of the Leibnizian Philosophy were discarded, and all the truths of the reason were brought to the bar of the understanding. On the other hand, the Pietists, in recoil from the rationalistic tendencies of the time, threw themselves into a religion of feeling, and denounced the natural understanding as incapable of measuring divine truth. Schultz, however, with something "• LIFE AND WORK OF KANT. 55 of a practical man's indifference to logic, endeavoured to com- bine the good elements in each of these opposites. He was a favourite pupil of Wolff, who is said to have singled him out as the pupil who best understood his principles, and he was at the same time deeply imbued with the spirit of Pietism. From the former he derived enlightened views of education, and a desire for a philosophical explanation or proof of his ideas ; from the latter a fervid religious spirit and a belief in the effi- cacy of a strict and somewhat ascetic, moral discipline. His pastoral office brought him into contact with the pious strap- maker's family, and led him to interest himself in the promising boy, whom he found there and whom he admitted to his school. It is probable, though we have no evidence of the fact, that he watched over Kant's training, and did something to help him in his hard struggle with circumstances. Kant at any rate had so strong a feeling of obligation towards his former teacher, that it was one of his latest projects, a project unfortunately unrealised owing to the increasing weakness of age, to write some account of Schultz's life and services. In speaking of his own boyhood, Kant was wont in later ^^^^°°? "' years to lay stress mainly upon two important influences : on the religious spirit of his parents, and on the good classical training which he received in the Collegium, Frederieianum. Of the former, especially of the first simple lessons in religion which he received from his mother, he could never speak without emotion, "The religious ideas of those times," he said to a friend on one occasion, " and the prevalent notions of virtue , and piety could hardly be said to be either clear or satisfactory, but the root of the matter was in them. Say what you will of Pietism, no one can deny the sterling worth of the characters which it formed. It gave to them the highest thing that man can possess — that peace, that cheerful spirit, that inner harmony with self which can be disturbed by no passion. No pressure of circumstance or persecution of man could make them discon- ^ tented, no rivalry could provoke them to anger and bitterness. 56 INTRODUCTION. chap. Even the casual observer was touched with an involuntary- feeling of respect before such men. I yet remember what happened on one occasion when difficulties arose between the strapmakers and the saddlers in regard to their respective rights. My father's interests were seriously affected : yet even in conversation the difference was discussed by my parents with such tolerance and indulgence towards the opposite party, and with such a fixed trust in Providence, that, . boy as I then was, the memory of it will never leave me." ^ cai studies.^^^' The narrowncss of the strict discipline and pietistic teaching of Kant's home, which was continued in the school, found a corrective in the efficient classical training which he received from one of the schoolmasters called Heydenreich. Kant and two friends, David Euhnken and Martin Cunde, were inspired with such enthusiasm that in the later part of their school years they used to meet several times a week for the reading of Latin authors who did not form part of the regular course ; and the three boys in common resolved to devote themselves to a career of classical study. Euhnken realised this youthful dream and became in later years a distinguished scholar ; and Kant was so far influenced by it that, when he went to the University, he did not inscribe himself as a member of the theo- logical or any other special faculty. And from these early studies he derived a good knowledge of Latin literature and a power of ready quotation from the Latin poets, which he retained to his latest years. K^ton. ^^^^^ ^^^ sf^^ool years were over, at the age of eighteen, Kant's Kant began to attend the University, supporting himself mainly scientific i, j. i • -.i ,. , , studies. by teachmg, with some little help from an uncle. Of his col- lege life we know very little, except that he gained the friend- ship of the ablest of the Konigsberg professors, Martin Knutzen, a man of no little importance in the history of the development of the Wolffian school. Knutzen followed his teacher Schultz in the effort to unite the formal method of the Wolffian philo- ^ Rink's Ansichten, p. 13. "• LIFE AND WORK OF KANT. 57 sophy with the spirit of Pietism ; but while Schultz was satisfied with an external combination, Knutzen, a man of much greater speculative ability, made commendable advances towards a real philosophical synthesis of the two elements. On Kaint his influence feeems to have been considerable, though Kant's thought went through so great a development in subse- quent years that we can scarcely find any definite traces of the ideas of Knutzen, beyond the general mediating tendency which characterised them both. What is recorded as to their relations is, that Knutzen urged Kant to the study of Newton, and gave him the use of his own large library. The advice seems to indicate that Kant's abilities showed themselves in the first instance in the direction of mathematical and physical science, rather than of philosophy. And this may also^ be inferred from the fact that his first work was an essay, published in 1749, three years after he had finished his University curriculum, in which he discussed the opposing theories of the Cartesian and the Leibnizian schools as to the way in which the force of moving bodies is to be estimated, and tried to find a method of reconciling them. Some six years after this youthful produc- tion, his thoughts still ran mainly in the same direction. In the General Natural History and Theory of the Heavens, published by Kant in his thirty-first year, he extends the theory of Newton as to the present movements of the solar and sidereal system to the original formation of those systems. At the same time, he attempts to show that this extension of the mechanical explana- tion of the Universe does not affect the argument from design or involve the entire rejection of final causes. During the nine years before the publication of this treatise^ fri"*t-Docent Kant resided as a private tutor in various families in the district near Konigsberg. Of his relation to his employers or pupils we know little or nothing. He himself declared afterwards that he was one of the worst of tutors; for, though he had a clear theory as to the method of teaching, he was unable to acquire the art of faking himself intelligible to children. In 1755, he returned 58 mTRODUCTIOlSr. CHAP. His political interests. Frederic the Great. to the University, took the degree of Doctor of Philosophy, and produced a dissertation on metaphysics as the necessary quali- fication for teaching. He had, however, even after this, to pass through eleven years of poverty and hardship ere he received his first small University appointment as a sub-librarian; and it was fifteen years before the struggle was ended by his appoint- ment as a Professor of Logic and Metaphysics. During this period his name was gradually rising. At first he lectured on the mathematical and physical sciences as well as on philosophy, and his earlier publications related mainly to the former. But gradually he confined his teaching to philosophy, to which he subsequently added courses of popular lectures on physical geography and anthropology. The former of these subjects seems to have been introduced for the first time into the studies of the University by Kant himself, who, though he never left Konigsberg, was an eager reader of voyages and travels. His vivid realisation of the geographical features and physical characteristics of each country, as well as of the ways of life of the people who inhabited it, made his lectures attractive to many beyond the regular students of the University, among whom may be mentioned specially the officers of the Eussian garrison which held Konigsberg during the third Silesian war (1756-63). A word or two may be here introduced as to Kant's relation to the political life of his time. Kant was no politician in a practical sense : so far as we know he never had to perform one directly political act. But he was a diligent student of contemporary politics, and he watched with keen interest the various phases of the political movement of the eighteenth century. He was a witness of three of the acts of what we may call the great modern political drama : he almost saw with his own eyes the Seven Years' war, in which the great Frederic stood at bay against the combined forces of the Austrians, the French, and the Russians : he followed with the warmest sympathy the phases of the distant conflict which "• LIFE AND WORK OP KANT. 59 ended in the assertion of the independence of the United States of America : and, he lived long enough to see the French Eevolution and the beginning of the career of Napoleon. The first of those great events was brought home to him, as already indicated, by the Kussian occupation of Konigsberg ; and we cannot suppose that it had less influence upon him than it had upon others of his nation. It was, indeed, the heroic struggle of Frederic which first awakened modern Germany to a con- sciousness of its powers. It made Germans begin to think of themselves as a distinct people and to take pride in their language. It roused the national genius from the long sleep which had ■ held it inactive ever since the disaster of the Thirty Years' war, and stirred it to that vigorous fermentation out t)f which came a new national literature. Frederic himself, indeed, was deeply imbued with French culture, and he thought of the German language as a semi-barbarous dialect, which would not be expected to produce literary fruit of any ex- cellence. But even this, as Goethe tells us, was an additional stimulus to German authors to prove their worth to him, whom all regarded with admiration as the national hero. At any rate, it is certain that after Frederic's victory a new spirit seemed to pass into Germany, and that, for the first time since the close of the Thirty Years' war, works of permanent literary value began to be produced. First came Lessing, the scholar and dramatist, the master of literary criticism, and the beginner of philosophic theology: then Elopstock, the "German Milton," author of an imposing, though somewhat pompous and rhetori- cal epic and of many vigorous lyric poems ; then Winckel- mann, the modern Greek, whose marvellous intuition of beauty first revealed to the modern world the full meaning of Hellenic art ; and Wieland, the German Frenchman, whose half romantic, half classical novels have now almost lost their interest, but who in his own time did no little to awaken the literary faculty of his countrymen. And this first generation of authors ^ was followed by a second of still greater power, among whom 60 INTRODUCTION. chap. we need only mention the names of Herder and Jacobi, of Goethe and Schiller.^ v^rmd^the™ The American war, which arose out of the attempt made in volution. 1765 to enforce taxation in the American colonies, was an event in which we know from many indications that Kant took a lively interest. It is recorded that one day when in a public garden he was maintaining earnestly the rightfulness of the resistance of the colonies, an Englishman sprang up and challenged Kant for insulting his country. Kant answered firmly but with such calmness and persuasive force, that his assailant speedily became paciiied and ended by shaking hands with him. This Englishman was a merchant, called Green, who settled in Konigsberg, and became one of Kant's closest friends. Until Green's death Kant was wont to spend part of every Saturday with him, and he is even said to have submitted some of his works to Green's criticism. The French Eevolu- tion, the last great political movement which took place in Kant's time, came too late in his life to affect him greatly; but he was deeply influenced by the works of Eousseau, in which that Eevolution may be said to have been anticipated. An era of political change is favourable to philosophy. It liberates the mind from the yoke of custom, and encourages it to specu- late freely upon the moral principles which underlie the social order. And it was of no little importance for Kant's works that he witnessed so much of the emancipating struggle of the eighteenth century. For the Critical Philosophy is not a product of the mere study of books : it is the work of one who was alive to the spirit of the time, and who reproduced in his thought the great movement for the liberation of humanity which he saw going on without him. We may even say, without much exaggeration, that in Kant's philosophy the 1 The following dates may be useful to mark the position of Kant with reference to contemporary literature :— Kant, 1724-1804; Lessing 1729-81- Winokelmann, 1717-68; Klopstock, 1724-1803; Wieland 1733-1815- Herder, 1749-1803; Jacobi, 1743-1819; Goethe, 1749-1832- Schiller' 1759-1805. ' ' "• LIFE AND WOEK OF KANT. 61 reason or principle of that movement was first brought to light. Kant was, > as I have said, slow in finding his work. For, Kant's profes- sorship and though as early as 1763 he published several important essays, ^^)^f — which indicate that he had already broken away from the Wolffian dogmatism, and that he was seeking for light in various directions, and especially from the English philosophy of Locke and his followers, — it was not till the year 1 7 7 , not till the forty-seventh year of his life, that we can trace in his works the beginnings of the Critical Philosophy. In that year, how- ever, in entering upon his duties as a Professor, Kant produced as his inaugural discourse an essay on the Form and Principles of the Sensible a-Ad the Intelligiile World, which contains (almosy all the thoughts afterwards embodied in the Aesthetic, the first part of the Critique of Pure Reason, and also some hints of the ideas expressed in the other sections of that work. But the Critique itself did not appear till eleven years afterwards. After 1781, and for the next ten years, in a continuous flow of literary production, Kant poured forth the treasures of thought which he had so patiently accumulated, and worked out the application of his principles to every department of philosophy. In 1783 came his Prolegomena to Every Future Metaphysic, a new exposition of the ideas of the Critique from a somewhat different • point of view: in 1785 the Foundation of the Metaphysic of Ethics, in which the moral aspects of his philosophy were first exhibited: in 1786 the Metaphysical Budiments of Physics: in 1788 the Critique of Practical Peason: and in 1790 the Critique of Judgment. This last work, which treats of the grounds of our aesthetic judgments, and also of the application of the idea of final cause to nature and especially to the organic world, completed the series of Critiques. During the next ten years his only works of great importance were the treatise on Beligion within the hounds of Pure Reason (1793), and the works on the Doctrine of Right and the Doctrine of J^irtue (1797), in which Kant's moral principles are worked 62 INTRODtrCTIOK. chap out in their applications to law, politics, and ethics. Besides these larger works he published a number of essays on special subjects in almost every branch of philosophy. The last books published by himself were his essay on the Conflict of the Famlties and his lectures on Anthropology (1798), though even after that date his lectures on Logw, on Physical Geography, and on Paedagogio were edited under his authority by certain of his pupils. By this time Kant had become a permanent invalid. In 1797 he ceased to lecture and his memory began to fail him, and two years later he became so weak that he expressed a longing for death. A young man called "Wasianski, who resided with him and took charge of his affairs, has recorded with almost too much detail his gradual decay in mind and body. In these last days Kant still tried to work at a book on the Metaphysic of Nature, but he could not distinctly express his thought and fell into continual repeti- tions and confusions. The slow process of death ended on the 12th of February, 1804, when he was close upon his eightieth year. His character. Kant was a man of feeble physique, hollow-chested and of small stature ; but by adherence to strict hygienic rules which he had laid down for himself, as well as by the utmost order and regularity of life, he long preserved unbroken health and was able to get through an almost incredible amount of work. He was of a cheerful, unassuming disposition and extremely modest in his personal claims. "While he deeply sympathised in the aspirations of his time after greater social and political freedom, his temper inclined him to avoid any thin o- like rebellion against constituted authority : and the most dubious act of which he was guilty was that, in submission to an order from the government of the pietistic successor of the great Prederic, he promised during that king's reign to be absolutely silent on theological subjects. Kant met with no great outward success, and indeed almost no practical recognition of his great powers, till he had reached a com- II- LIFE AND WORK OF KANT. 63 paratively advanced age : and when in later life attempts were made to draw him away from his native Konigsberg by the offer of more lucrative employment elsewhere, he refused to avail himself of them. He had arranged and regulated his life, had formed his habits of living and working, and he would not let himself be disturbed by change. His long struggle with fortune taught him to be severely economical, but he never showed a trace of avarice ; on the contrary he was markedly generous to those who had claims upon his help. In his earlier life he was fond of company, and especially of the company of refined and educated women. At a later period he ceased to go into society, but he almost invariably enter- tained one or two friends at his table. Otherwise he sought no relaxation from the never-hasting, never-resting work, which he pursued day after day and year after year, without turning aside from the fixed rules of life which he had made for himself. "With no lack of kindliness or social interest, he was one whose life always reminds us of the " categorical imperative of duty," which was for him the kernel of morals. Of no one can it be said more truly, that he purchased inner freedom by strict obedience to law and even to every limit of convention or authority, which he could recognise as reasonable. Heine draws a laughable contrast, in which there is some germ of truth, between the quiet and sober tenor of his life as an exact University official and a respectable citizen, and the world-moving power of his writings. " The life of Immanuel Kant is hard to describe : he had geine on Kant. indeed neither life nor history in the proper sense of the words. He lived an abstract, mechanical, old-bachelor existence in a quiet, remote street of Konigsberg, an old city at the north-eastern boundary of Germany. I do not believe that the great cathedral clock of that city accomplished its day's work in a less passionate and more regular way than its countryman, Immanuel Kant. Eising from bed, coffee-drinking, writing, lecturing, eating, i ♦ walking, everything had its fixed time ; and the neighbours u 64 INTBODTJCTION". CHAP knew that it must be exactly half -past four when they saw Professor Kant in his grey coat with his cane in his hand step out of his house door, and move towards the little lime tree avenue, which is called after him the Philosopher's Walk. Eight times he walked up and down that walk at every season of the year, and when the weather was bad or the grey clouds threatened rain, his servant, old Lampe, was seen anxiously following him with a large umbrella under his arm, like an image of Providence." " Strange contrast between the outer life of the man and his world destroying thought. Of a truth, if the citizens of Konigsberg had had any inkling of the meaning of that thought, they would have shuddered before him, as before an executioner. But the good people saw nothing in him but a professor of philosophy, and when he passed at the appointed hour, they gave him friendly greetings and set their watches." His method in In his earlier days he seems to have been a very effective teacliing. ^ lecturer, as is evidenced by the enthusiastic words of Herder : but as the life of thought absorbed him more and more, the interest of personal address became less keen, and his prelec- tions lost something of their living interest. As to his methods of teaching, Jachmann gives us a hint which is not without value in relation to the interpretation of his writings. In lecturing, Kant, he says, was wont " as it were to conduct an intellectual experiment before his audience, as if he were himself beginning to meditate on the subject. First, he set up a rough definition of the subject to be discussed, then by degrees he introduced new conceptions to modify it : step by step the explanations which had been tentatively presented, were corrected, until at last the finishing touch was given to the definition, which had been elucidated in every point of view. In this way an attentive listener not only was made acquainted with the subject, but also received a lesson in systematic thinking. But a hearer who was ignorant of the method of the teacher, and who took his first explanation "■ LIFE AND WORK OF KANT. 65 of the subject for a final and exhaustive statement, to the neglect of the subsequent steps, was likely to carry away only half truths." This method was used by Kant not only in his lectures but also to some extent in his books, and it has given rise to the same misunderstanding in the latter as in the former case. It was, indeed, almost a necessity that one who had to open up a region of thought so new and unfamiliar as that of the Critical Philosophy, should begin by using the ordinary conceptions of his time, and should gradually trans- form them by explanation upon explanation till he lifted his readers to his own point of view. The method is one which makes Kant's works very instructive to any one who will patiently follow him in every new step, but almost incompre- hensible to those who expect their author to do their thinking for them, and to present them always with cut and dry results. Like Socrates, Kant forces his pupils to co-operate with him, and the conclusions to which he brings them are of almost no value apart from the process. Nay they may become even misleading ; for Kant, as the discoverer of a new principle and a new method of speculation, was not, and could not be expected to be, aware of the full power and bearing of his own thought. The scaffolding obscures the edifice even from its builder, and of Kant even more truly than of any other philosopher it may be said that to understand him is to go ^ beyond him. On the other hand there is at least this amount of reason in the call to " return to Kant," that there is nothing which does so much to enable us to understand any principle or way of thinking as the consideration of the conditions of its first expression. In the beginning of this chapter attention has been drawn Three periods in ° ° ^ Kant's Mental to the general characteristics of the age of Enlightenment in development. which Kant's powers ripened to maturity ; it only now remains to bring what is there said into more definite relation with Kant's own speculative development up to the period when the Critical idea began to take form in his mind. In that develop- VOL. I. E 66 INTRODUCTION. °^^^- ment we may distinguish three periods. In the first of these Kant is still in the main an adherent, though a somewhat rest- less and dissatisfied adherent, of the Wolffian philosophy, or rather of a modification of that philosophy which had resulted from the speculative movement within and without the school of Wolff. Of this stage of his thought the main record is found in the Mw Exposition of the First Principles of Meta- physic with which in 1755 he "habilitated," or qualified as a Frivat-Docent, in the University of Konigsberg. In 1763 this stage ends with the publication of three essays, which may be regarded as Kant's declaration of independence. In these essays he breaks with the Wolffian philosophy, and shows a tendency, which is even more strongly marked three years later in the treatise on the Breams of a Ghost-Seer illustrated hy the Ih-eains of Metaphysic, to adopt the principles of the Empiricism of Locke. Finally, about the year 1768-9, there is evidence of a second recoil from Empiricism towards Eationalism, and the commencement of an effort to reach a higher point of view from which the opposition between it and Empiricism may be reconciled, an effort the first fruit of which was the Disserta- tion on the Form and Principles of the Sensible and the Intelligible World. That treatise, as above stated, was published in 1770, but it took eleven years of what we may call intellectual fer- mentation before the process of synthesis thus initiated was brought to a definite result in the first edition of the Critique of Pure Reason. And even the Critique of Pure Reason must itself be regarded as presenting to us only one side or aspect of a comprehensive thought which was subsequently worked out in the other Critiques, and that not without reactive influ- ence on the first Critique.'^ ' In relation to the first two stages our main authority must be the published works of Kant, though some additional illustration is supplied by the Reflex- ionen Kant's, published by Dr. Benno Erdmann. For the third stage, the main authorities are the Dissertation and Kant's letters to Lambert and Herz. But valuable sidelights are supplied by the Reflexionen (with Dr. Erdmann's introductions) and by Politz's editions of Kant's lectures on Metaphysic and "• LIFE AND WORK OF KANT. 67 In the three following chapters, I propose lirst to give an t^^foUow'iM account of Kant's precursors, or in other words, to describe '''''^'''™" the earlier modern philosophical movement as far as is neces- sary to exhibit Kant's relation to it, and especially to show at what point he took up the philosophical problem ; in the next place, to follow Kant through the first two stages of his de- velopment, or, in other words, through the speculations of the precritical period ; finally, in the last chapter of this Intro- duction, to trace the steps in the development of the idea, of criticism from its first dawn to the publication of the Critique of Pure Reason. Natural Theology and Dr. Erdmann's articles in the Philosophische Monatshefte (vols. 19 and 20). Cf. also Cohen, Die systematische Begriffe in Kant's Vor- kritischen Schri/ten, and Paulsen, Die EntwicJcelungsgescMchte der KantiacMu Erkenntnisslehre. 68 CHAPTEK III. Kent's peecuesors, descaetes, spinoza, leibniz, and wolff — THE LATEE wolffian SCHOOL AND MARTIN KNUTZEN. EvoSn'as a T^HE idea of evolution is now so familiar, and it has lent h£tory*o/ such a living interest to the history of the past, that it is not easy to realise the point of view of those who were without that idea. Especially is this the case in relation to philosophy. To us the history of philosophy has become a part of philosophy itself, because we have learned to look on the speculations of earlier times, not as dogmatic systems to be accepted or rejected, but rather as the first stages in the pro- gressive evolution of a thought of which, in a further stage, we ourselves are the organs and interpreters. Hence follow two important consequences. On the one hand, we are freed to some extent from historical partisanship, since we do not expect to find direct support for our own ideas in any past system : yet on the other hand, we are enabled to feel a living interest in all such systems, as containing aspects or elements of the truth which we seek to discover. We are pledged to show that the system which we regard as true, is the result of a synthesis in which those aspects or elements are combined. But to those who looked upon the history of philosophical opinion without the guiding light of the idea of evolution, that history necessarily took the aspect of a series of unrelated facts the knowledge of which could have no scientific value. CHAP. III. KANT's precursors from DESCARTES TO WOLFF. 6 9 They could feel a living interest only in the opinions and reasonings of those writers who were near in time to them- selves, and who, therefore, put the problem of philosophy in the same way. What lay further off they were obliged to distort into an artificial resemblance to their own ideas ; otherwise it had no philosophical meaning for them. Hence, with few ex- ceptions, philosophic writers were wont to pay little heed to any speculations save those of their immediate predecessors, and the doctrines of earlier writers were remembered, if at all, only as a dead tradition, a cipher to which the key was lost. This indifference to the past was specially characteristic of Hii^t^of"""^ the eighteenth century, partly because of its violent recoil from 1^"°*=*™°- the ideas of the previous period, partly because of the character of the ideas in which that recoil landed it. The individualistic tendencies of the age of Enlightenment, which separated each man from the unity of the social organism to which he belonged, separated him also from the past out of which his intellectual life had grown. Hence to the writers of that time the inde- pendence of philosophical thought seemed to involve that each thinker must begin the work of speculation de now : and to admit the possibility or necessity of a mediation of truth to the individual by the communis sensus of humanity was in their eyes the same thing as to accept the dictation of an external authority. In this respect Kant shared in the indi- vidualistic and unhistorical modes of thought characteristic of his time, though it may be also said that it was a result of his work to change them, or at least to prepare the way for a deeper conception of the relation of the individual to humanity. No more than his contemporaries had he a vital hold of the remoter past. Even of Leibniz, the great thinker to whom he stood nearest, he can scarcely be said to have had any direct vision : he sees him almost entirely through the spectacles of Wolff: and if he ever gains a deeper apprehension, it is only as the advance of his own thought gTadually leads to a revival of ^ome of the elements of the Leibnizian doctrine. Spinoza's 70 ■ INTRODTJCTION. CHAP. thought, as he confessed, remained an enigma to him, even after Jacobi had paved the way to a better knowledge of it. And his references to Plato and Aristotle seldom go much beyond the limits of the ordinary inaccurate tradition, which makes them respectively types of the a priori, and the em- pirical, modes of thought : though he is conscious of a certain affinity to Plato, especially in relation to his moral ideas. The historical relations of Kant's philosophy, as described by him- self, are thus limited to the Wolffio-Leibnizian system on the one side, and the philosophy of Locke, Newton, and Hume on the other. The only other great writer to whom he confesses an obligation is Eousseau, in whose ideas of a " common reason " and a "general will," we may discern some anticipation of the intellectual revolution which Kant was to carry out. Historical Yet it would be a mistake entirely to limit our view of the relations or *' ^ptyf ™'°" historical setting of Kant's philosophy to the relations of which Kant himself was conscious. Kant's Critique was the beginning of an intellectual revolution by which a synthesis was made, not only between the different forms of Individualism which arose in Germany and England, but also between the Individual- ism of the eighteenth century and what may be called the abstract Universalism of an earlier period. It is no mere accident, but an indication of the same spirit of the time which was manifested in the Kantian philosophy itself, that an inter- est in Spinoza revived shortly after the publication of the Critique of Pure Beason. The way in which Spinoza's Ethics took hold of Goethe, who was above all the representative of the modern spirit, and of its characteristic ideas of organic unity and evolution, is sufficient to show this. And the fact that Kant did not recognise any such affinity, is explained partly by the manner of his own mental development, which made him regard Spinoza merely as a representative of the Dogmatism against which he had to contend. Yet it is impossible to con- sider that development carefully without seeing that Kant is deeply influenced by the Spinozistic idea of a universal unity. HI- KANt's precursors from DESCARTES TO WOLFF. 71 a unity of knowing and being, which through Leibniz passed as a tradition into the Wolffian philosophy, and which saved that philosophy from the Individualism, or even Atomism, to which it tended. A few words on this subject may enable us better to appreciate the modified Wolffianism of Kant's first period. The history of modern thought begins with the declaration ^^^"Sorml. of the spiritual independence of the individual, and the rejection ''™" of the principle of authority. The Eeformation was in principle the negation of the claim of any doctrine to be accepted by the individual, which could not find its evidence in the movement of his own reason ; of any law to be obeyed by him, which could , not be shown to spring from his own will. It was a return of man's spirit to itself and a rejection of all that is merely exter- nal and foreign. A truth which cannot become a conviction, one with my very consciousness of self, is no truth for me. A power, which directs my activity to an end which I cannot regard as my own good, is an external tyranny, to which I may be forced to submit but which I cannot regard as a legitimate authority. Before this assertion of the principle of freedom, of self-determining reason and self-legislative wiU, the dogmatic system of thought and the external system of government, which were characteristic of the middle ages, crumbled into dust. The dualistic ideas of a revelation coming entirely from without, of a transformation of man's life and nature by a foreign power, of an expulsion of nature that spirit might reign in its place, were once for all exploded. Old things had passed away : the years of man's nonage were completed, and he was no longer under tutors and governors, but master, of himself and of his fate. No one who looks beneath the surface of modern history can its power over thought and' doubt the power of this idea. We all, as Hegel once said, '"^■ fight " under the banner of the free spirit." Again and again, in religion, in science, in politics and in social life, it has stirred the modern world to convulsive and even fanatical efforts to rid « itself of the weight of the past that was oppressing it. Before 72 INTRODUCTION. CHAP. this principle the strongest systems of political and ecclesiastical order have gone down in utter ruin at the hour when they seemed most impregnable. It has been the secret of that dis- ease of subjectivity which has infected the modern world, and has filled literature with the voice of its discontent. And on the other hand, it has been the essence of that " freshness of the earlier world " which has purified and transformed modem poetry and art and renewed the exhausted springs of emotion. Above all, it has given rise to that effort to simplify life and thought, to get rid of the meaningless and the unreal, to come face to face with nature and man, and to banish as much as possible the merely conventional and unintelligible, — in short, to extirpate everything incapable of being brought into living relation with self-consciousness, — which is the distinguish- ing characteristic of the modern spirit. The whole history of modern philosophy may be regarded as an endeavour to work out the results of the same principles. Kant's protest against the admission of the " Transcendent," of that which is incapable of being brought in relation to human experience, is but a further step in the same process which was initiated by Descartes, when he sought to base all truth upon the Cogito ergo sum of self-consciousness. Meaning of From this point of view we may recognise a bond of kinship the revolt against bctwecn the Eeformers and those who originated the modem Scholastic *= Philosophy, scientific movement. The explanation of what is within the range of the human consciousness by what is supposed to be utterly beyond it, is the one thing which they are agreed in rejecting. Luther condemns an authoritative church as stand- ing between the soul and God in the same spirit in which Bacon afterwards condemned the abstractions of Scholastic philosophy as standing between the human mind and nature. Both demand the closest contact of subject and object, and both are equally convinced that by means of this contact, subject and object may be brought into unity without any need for a mediator. In both cases, indeed, a process is held to be in.. KANT S PRECURSORS FROM DESCARTES TO WOLFF. 73 necessary ; a- process in the one case, whereby the natural man, to whom the life of Christ is an external fact is to be converted into the spiritual man to whom the belief in Christ is one with the consciousness of himself; and a process in the other case whereby the student of nature is to free his mind from all pre- suppositions and prejudices, and turn it, in Bacon's language, into a pure mirror of the world. But, in the one case as in the other, the process is one which is to be carried on from beginning to end in and through the consciousness of the individual him- self, without any dependence on an external authority. The circle is to be completed within the range of human perception and human thought, and to rest upon nothing beyond it. The living experience is to be its own sufficient evidence. In this way the independence of the individual mind was subjective ^ J freedom and asserted without shutting it out from objective truth. It was ?ruth'"^ admitted that knowledge is possible only through the surrender of the intelligence of the individual to a truth which in the first instance seems to be quite independent of it. " Into the kingdom of man which is based on science, as into the king- dom of Heaven, we can enter only sm& persona infantis." The first step towards the knowledge of the world was to give up all preconceived opinions and subjective idols which stand be- tween us and the object. The *first step towards the knowledge of God was to empty the mind of self. But, on the other hand, this simplicity of reception was not in either case supposed to imply a mere passivity of spirit. On the contrary, our first impressions of things were viewed as furthest from the truth, and an acquiescence in immediate appearance was denounced, both by Luther and Bacon, as the great hindrance to true religion and true science. In both cases an active transforming process was required, through which the mind must pass ere it could reach the truth and identify itself therewith, so as to find the evidence for that truth in itself. By this process of in- tellectual or spiritual activity the object ceased to be, — what in its first apprehension it necessarily was, — a merely external Empiricism. 74 INTRODUCTION. chap. object, a mere fact unrelated to the intelligence : it was seen in its principle or law, and so became one with the mind which apprehended it. Hence what in one point of view was a change of the object was, in another point of view, a change of the subject. To sacrifice the mere subjective presuppositions or idols which stand between the intelligence and nature, was at the same time to break through external appearances and to discover the essential relation of nature to the intelligence. The surrender of reason to the teaching of Christ was in another point of view the discovery of reason in Christianity. o^Miion'* This conception of the unity of thought with its object — ^the Bacon^s'''"^ solc conception which makes it possible to reconcile the possi- bility of objective knowledge of God or of the world with the subjective principle of freedom — was involved in Luther's idea of Eeligion, and it was involved also in Bacon's Empiricism, but it was not distinctly recognised by either of them. Bacon, while he describes the method of physical inquiry and lays down the principles by which it is to be guided, has no idea of connecting that method or those principles with the nature of self-con- sciousness. He generally speaks as if facts were given through sense without any aid from reason, and as if any contribution of reason to the data of sense must necessarily involve a dis- tortion of those data. If he admits the necessity of the activity of the intelligence in the apprehension of truth, it is in his conception a merely formal activity. The image of the mind as a mirror of the world seemed to him a sufficient account of its relation to its object : nor did it ever occur to him to attribute any constitutive power to thought. And Luther, while he allowed that the truth must be spiritually discerned, thinks of such discernment as the result of a divine influence, under which the soul is purely passive. It is, therefore, fair to say of both that, while they virtually asserted the unity of the mind with the object which it apprehends, they were content to feel that unity, without attempting to understand it. The implicit reason of the mind's assent to truth was not by them made ex- III. KANT's PRECURSORS TROM DESCARTES TO WOLFF. 75 plicit. How the individual, as such, can transcend his individu- ality ;- how his assurance of that which is not himself can be vindicated ; how it is possible that a finite being, himself a part of the partial world, can in thought overpass the limits of his own subjective consciousness and become a " spectator of all time and existence," conscious of the world and of God ; these were questions which they did not ask. Ultimately both Bacon and Luther rested on an immediate certitude of feeling, or faith. As the one felt he was dealing with reality when he was dealing with the external world, so the other felt he was dealing with reality when he was dealing with God: and the processes which were necessary to develop this knowledge, or to bring the object, which at first appears as external, into unity with the subject, were justified merely by the result. As_a-jnatter of fact, nature ceasestobea merely external existence for us when we dis- c over its law s. As a matter of fact, God ceaseTto be a mere name for the absolute Being, when we receive into our minds the Christian idea of Him. But still, even after this process, self, the world, and God have the aspect of three elements, which we find together in our minds, but which are connected by no necessary relations, or at least by relations which are felt only and not comprehended. Hence the immediate and unreflecting consciousness in all its forms is exposed to the assaults of doubt, — a doubt which may assail even the very existence of its ob- jects. The consciousness of self may still be turned against the consciousness of an external world, or the consciousness of an external world against the consciousness of self, so long as they are not seen to be necessary to each other. Or again the con- sciousness of the finite may be turned against the consciousness of the infinite, and either may be used to suppress the other, so long as they are not seen to be at once distinct and necessarily connected. So soon as such doubts arise, the immediate consciousness of Dangers of reflexion and reality ceases to be sufiicient for itself, and philosophy becomes analysis. a necessity. For that consciousness necessarily takes its objects 76 INTRODUCTION. °^^^- for granted. To the religious man God, as to the scientific man the external world, are realities immediately bound up with his consciousness of self, and he has no need to seek for a bridge from the one to the other. But reflexion breaks up this im- mediate unity, and forces philosophy to undertake the task of showing that the different elements of consciousness are con- nected in one system of belief, and that it is impossible to admit one of these without being driven to admit them all. The business of philosophy is thus to cut away the ground from scepticism by exhibiting the reciprocal implication of all the principles on which the world, as an intelligible world, must rest. For scepticism, as was suggested in the first chapter of this Introduction, is never complete. Its strength always lies in turning some element of truth, the certitude of which is ■ assumed, against tha other elements. And the answer to it can lie only in showing the necessary relation of the element of truth which is thus assumed to the other elements of the system of knowledge. Thus philosophy is a kind of reasoning in a circle, but that is no argument against it ; for it is a circle beyond which nothing lies, and in particular it is a circle which includes the position of the sceptic himself. Theaubjective xhe form wMch sccpticism has generally taken in modern principle of 1.0./ Sd'D^art™ timcs is determined by the subjective principle of Protestantism. The consciousness of self has been turned against the con- sciousness of the external world, or against the consciousness of God, or even against both at once. The question, therefore, has been how we are to know anything but ourselves and our own ideas ; how our consciousness is to go out to other finite objects or to rise to the infinite. This point of view is clearly indicated by Descartes when he finds in the Cogito ergo sum the primal and invincible certitude, to which doubt can reduce us, but of which it can never deprive us. The external world is to Descartes a world not only extended and external to itself but also external to our consciousness. On it therefore, con- sciousness, which has for its immediate object only its own Ill- KANT S PRECTJRSORS FROM DESCARTES TO WOLFF. 77 ideas, has no direct hold. Hence in spite of the clearness and distinctness of our ideas as to the relations of the extended,— a clearness and distinctness which gives rise to the certitude of mathematical science, — ^our belief in the existence of the extended is unable to resist the shock of doubt. As Descartes naively expresses it, we can imagine that some untruthful spirit is playing upon our minds and awaking in them the ideas of things that have no reality. Thus we are driven back upon the ideas which are the immediate objects of our con- sciousness, and upon the conscious self for which they are objects. In relation to these, it is supposed, no lying spirit can deceive us. The conscious self asserts its existence even in the very act by which it abstracts from everything else. Its self- affirmation is involved in the very possibility of doubt, and cannot itself be an object of doubt. What we can doubt is only what we can separate from the self-affirming ego, which is as it asserts itself and asserts itself as it is. But the end of doubt is the beginning of knowledge, and in the Oogito ergo sum we have a first unity of thought and being, out of which a complete reconciliation of them may spring. Self-consciousness, then, is the starting point or principium Descartes' cognosceTidi, from which we must start and on which we must infi™i?e"'*° *" base all other forms of consciousness. As, however, Descartes begins by separating the consciousness of self from the im- mediate consciousness of the external world, it is obvious that he cannot bring them together again except through some tertium quid. And of this tertiu^n quid, which is to form the connecting link between the consciousness of self and the con- sciousness of the world, there must be a certitude as immediate as that of the consciousness of self. Descartes, therefore, is necessarily driven to the assertion that the consciousness of God is directly involved in the consciousness of self and indeed is prior to it. "Let us not imagine,'' he declares in one remarkable passage, " that the conception of the infinite is got , merely by negation of the finite, just as we conceive rest to be 78 INTRODUCTION. chap. the negation of movement and darkness to be the negation of light. On the contrary we obviously think of the infinite substance as having more reality in it than the finite substance: nay, it may even be said that our consciousness of the infinite is in some sense prior to our consciousness of the finite or, in other words, that our consciousness of God is prior to our con- sciousness of self. For, how could we doubt or desire, how could we be conscious that anything is wanting to us, and that we are not altogether perfect, if we had not in ourselves the idea of a perfect being in comparison with whom we recognise the defects of our own nature ? " In this passage the method of abstraction which Descartes followed, when he separated the consciousness of self from the consciousness of the object, is carried a step further. He now, in effect, bids us abstract from the distinction of the ego from the non-ego, on the ground that that distinction is a mere limit or negation ; and he maintains that the consciousness of the absolute unity which we thus reach is prior to, and presupposed in, the consciousness of any finite object, even the self. In apprehending this absolute unity, therefore, we are lifted beyond the distinction of self and not-self, of the thinking and the extended substance, and through it we are enabled to connect the latter with the former. Thus the difference, which was absolute from the point of view of the finite, disappears altogether from the point of view of the infinite. The effect of this method of reasoning was, it must be acknowledged, very imperfectly seen by Descartes himself, who saves himself from self-contradiction by many loose and popular ways of expression. Thus failing to recognise that, according to his own statement, the opposition of thought and being disappears in God, who as an object of consciousness is prior even to the self, he proceeds to speak of the thought of God as only one of the ideas of the self, which requires an adequate reality as its cause. And instead of saying that in the consciousness of God, who is the absolute unity, the division between the self and the not-self disappears, he tells us that III. KANT'S PRECURSORS FROM DESCARTES TO WOLFF. 79 the truthfulness of God is our pledge for the objective reality of our " clear and distinct " ideas of that extended substance which is the object of our perceptions. But here as often, the disciples betray the secret of the master. When Malebranche spoke of " seeing all things in God," he was only giving a more vivid expression to the idea that the consciousness of God is the connecting link between the consciousness of self and the consciousness of the world. And Spinoza was only following out the same thought to its necessary result, when he put the idea of God at the head of his system as at once the principium essendi and the privcipium cognoscendi of all that is and is known. (^^^ The philosophies of Descartes and Spinoza, in one point of Relation ot '- ^ i. ' i Spmozato view, are polar opposites, but they are only the opposite poles of Descartes, the same thought. They exhibit, in the language of pure thought, the same dialectical movement by which Luther, the apostle of the rights of the individual conscience, became also the asserter of the absolute passivity of man in relation to God. The necessity of resisting all merely external authority was forced on the individual by the consciousness of a divine voice speaking within him, which he could not disobey : he could only gain sufficient power to resist the world by regarding himself as the mere organ of the divine will. His strength against men was the counterpart of his absolute surrender of himself to God. In philosophy this connexion of ideas reappears in a slightly different form. The individual has become conscious of himself as an independent thinking being, and refuses to accept anything as true for him which is not mediated' by his own thought : but this very return upon him- self — this refusal to admit any belief that comes to him merely from without — is possible for him only because he is not a merely individual being who stands in an external relation to other individuals, but one who has the universal principle of knowledge bound up with his consciousness of himself. There t would be no possible escape from the limitations of self- 80 INTRODUCTION. ''^^^■ consciousness, if it were not in some sense true, as Descartes puts it, that the consciousness of God is prior to the conscious- ness of self, i.e., that the unity, which all consciousness pre- supposes, is a principle of unity for all things and not for the inner life of the individual alone. It is in virtue of this that the individual is able to abstract not only from external objects but from himself also as a mere individual subject : as, on the other hand, it is in virtue of this that he is able to know these external objects in relation to himself and himself in relation to them. Hence, we cannot know ourselves apart from, or prior to, other things : nor is it possible that we should be con- scious of our own ideas as our own ideas prior to, and indepen- dent of, other objects. So far Spinoza was right' in holding that the true starting point of thought is not in the consciousness of self as a priiicipium cognoscendi separate from God who is the principmm esscndi. It is only as the " spectators of all time and existence " that we can know anything even of our own existence : and the beginning of knowledge cannot be the separate consciousness of our own inner being, which has no meaning except in relation to an outer being from which we distinguish it. We do not know ourselves first and the world through ourselves ; but we know ourselves only in relation to, and in distinction from, the world : nnd we know both through their relation to the one principle of unity which underlies all knowledge, negation of Spiuoza, therefore, is not without justification in his substi- the Finite. ^.^j-Jq^ gf ^ metaphysical for a psychological principle as the basis of philosophy. At the same time it has to be acknow- ledged that the process by which this substitution is made, is defective in its logic, and that its result is, therefore, to sup- press, rather than to solve, the problem. Por, as will be re- membered, the problem was to find a synthetic principle by aid of which the consciousness of self should be connected with the consciousness of objects which were supposed to be external to the self. And the solution was found in a unity which was in. KANT S PRECURSORS FROM DESCARTES TO WOLFF. 81 reached by abstraction from all differences, even the difference of self and not-self. The principle- already laid down by Des- cartes, but seen in its full bearing only by Spinoza, that omnis determinatio est negatio, i.e., that all definition and determination is the limitation of a presupposed positive being by a negation or an unreality, led directly to the conclusion that the only thing real in the proper sense of the word is that being which is absolutely indeterminate, without distinction or limit ; and that the only truth which is unmixed with illusion is the thought which apprehends such being. Abstraction then becomes the sole method of knowledge, and all distinctions, including the distinction between self and not- self, between thought and extension, are transcended only because they are all set aside. Spinoza struggles against this result, and, indeed, we may say that he has an intuitive perception of the way to escape it, when he converts, the idea of a substance or purely indeterminate being into the idea of a causa sui or self-deter- mined subject " with an infinite number of attributes." But he never saw the distinction between these two conceptions of the ultimate unity, which in the subsequent development of his system are treated as interchangeable. Thus thought and extension appear as absolutely unrelated expressions of the one substance, which is simply identical in both its expressions (though at the same time thought is conceived as a conscious- ness of extension as well as of itself). The result is that the principle of unity, placed at the beginning of the Ethics, does nothing to explain the difference subsequently introduced. Being and knowing, or extension and thought, are set side by side, and the reality of their difference is denied, but nothing is done to mediate between them. Even in the definition of substance as id quod in se est et per se concipitur there is no connexion between the two members. The abstract assertion of the unity of all things in God does nothing to break down the absolute dualism of the world. To see things sub specie q^ternitatis is simply to forget a difference which is found to VOL. I. r 82 INTRODUCTION. chap. be as hard and insoluble as ever, when we return to it again. It is like a Sunday confession that the things of this world are naught, while we treat them as absolute realities all the other days of the week. theTnitein the '^^^ truth of the philosophy of Descartes and Spinoza lay in oentur™' their assertion that the unity of the consciousness of self and of the world must be mediated by the consciousness of God, or in other words, that it is only in so far as the unity of the consciousness of self is a principle which is presupposed in " all objects of all thought," that knowledge is possible. The error of that philosophy was, that this principle was reached by abstraction and conceived in an abstract way " as substance not as subject," as a mere common element or logical genus, and not as a principle of unity in difference. But such a direct effort to suppress difference only makes the difference develop into contradiction. For a common element is no bond of union, and the abstraction that separates it from the elements that are not common only causes the latter to fall asunder in hopeless opposition. Hence the result of this first effort at an immediate reconciliation between the object and the subject, through consciousness of the unity which is above their difference, was only to discredit that consciousness. The idea of God or the infinite, which in Spinoza had all but sup- pressed the consciousness of the finite world and of the finite self, begins with those who follow him to empty itself of its contents ; and what is lost to the infinite is gained by the finite. Nominalism takes the place of Eealism ; the individual becomes everything, the unity in which all individuals are held as parts of one whole becomes nothing. The universe is repre- sented as a collection of isolated beings or things with no vital connexion ; for the God who holds them together is conceived as a mere external creator and governor, and rapidly sinks into an unknown and unknowable Mre Supreme, which it matters little to assert or to deny. Hence also the answer to the problem of knowledge is sought in a different way. The III. rant's precursors from DESCARTES TO WOLFF. 83 psychological point of view gains at the expense of the meta- physical, and instead of " seeing all things in God," it now becomes received almost as an axiom that we must see all things, — and God also, if we can see Him at all, — ^in ourselves. Whether it is through the sensations which outward objects have produced in our minds, or through the ideas which spring directly out of our own consciousness, that we come to a know- ledge of other things, is still a much debated question : but no question is raised as to the truth that the individual has immediately to do only with that which belongs to his own individual self-consciousness, and that the world of finite things which is close to him, as well as the existence of God which is more remote, can be reached merely by inference. Such an individualistic way of thinking was predestined to individualism ** o i necessarily end in Scepticism, whether it took a sensationalistic or an g\fgp°t*°j3„_ idealistic form. If it took the former, it must end in resolving our consciousness of the world as given into a mere flux of sen- sations without connexion or relation ; if it took the latter form, ib must end in the admission that the conscious self by the mere repetition of its identity with itself can never manu- facture any knowledge of objects. In either case the excliision of any consciousness of the universal, as a principle which manifests itself in the difference of the subjective and the objective consciousness and at the same time binds them to- gether, is fatal to the possibility of knowledge. Without such a principle " things cannot migrate into our consciousness," nor can our consciousness go out of itself to enter into them. Neither the passivity nor the activity of the mind can enable it to escape from the prison of individuality to which it has condemned itself. It cannot by thinking " add a cubit to its stature," nor can any power in the universe draw it beyond the limits of its own finite existence. Unless the consciousness of the not-self be from the first bound up with the consciousness of self, it is hopeless to attempt to join them. The primary ^ulf between the self and the not-self ca,nnot be bridged by 84 INTRODUCTION. CHAP. one who remains ex hypothesi fixed at one side of it. On the other hand, if this hypothesis is not tenable, and if the con- sciousness of self has the consciousness of the not-self bound up with it, it is obvious that the subjective principle must, when fully worked out, come into contradiction with itself. Even the consciousness of self must become illusory to one who divorces it from its necessary counterpart. Assertion of ^hc wholc history of both the great individualistic schools aslmpUedln of the eighteenth century is an illustration of the logic by the particular. . , ^ which the individual, conceived as immediately conscious of himself and of himself alone, is gradually driven to surrender all hold upon objective reality. And the critical reaction of Kant may be described in general terms as a reassertion, though it may be a still imperfect reassertion, of the truth that there is a universal principle underlying all consciousness, in virtue of which it can transcend itself and apprehend objective reality. This reassertion was, however, not a simple revival of the point of view of earlier philosophy. For, in the first place, the indi- vidualistic protest against a merely abstract and formal philo- sophy had not been wasted. It was no longer possible to be content with a speculation which dissolved the finite self and all that is finite in the infinite. By the advance of physical science and of the industrial arts, by the development of a free social and political life, the consciousness of the worth and dignity of the individual and of all the immediate interests of his existence had been so fully developed, that it had now be- come impossible to return to mediaeval Eealism, even by the circuitous path of Descartes and Spinoza. The consciousness of the universal might be re-established as the basis of the con- sciousness of the particular, but the former could no longer be set in opposition to the latter, or used to suppress it. The only universal which could now be accepted was one which should furnish a principle of synthesis among the particulars, a prin- ciple of unity in difference. If any idea corresponding to the consciousness of God in the Cartesian and Spinozistic system HI- KANt's precursors prom BESCARTES to WOLFF. 85 was again to be placed at the head of the system of philosophy, it must not be the idea of an ens realissimum, a substance without limit or determination, but the idea of a self-determin- ing subject. In the second place, as the system of Kant grew up in close relation to the subjective individualism of the previous period, even to the last it retained traces of its origin. Its modes of expression, its whole armoury of metaphorical formulas, all its external framework or scaffolding were bor- rowed from the philosophies in room of which it came. Furthermore, it was the work of one who fully appreciated the valuable results of the "Enlightenment" both on the scientific and the political side, and who had not the slightest wish to undermine it, but rather sought to make manifest the deeper foundation upon which it rested. Kant was called by Hamann the Alles-zermalmender, "the man of crushing dialectic," and Heine, in a passage already quoted, speaks as if this were his main characteristic. But his crushing dialectic was used only against the hollow logic of Wolffian dogmatism, the re- moval of which was necessary to make room for a great con- structive effort of speculation ; and in regard to the genuine scientific work of the eighteenth century, he was only anxious to show that it rested upon principles, which carry us beyond its own limitations. Kanb was no revolutionist who rode to success on' the top of a wave of reaction by which one half truth was set up in the place of its opposite. He was, so to speak, an organic reformer, whose aim was to remould the ac- cepted doctrine by bringing into prominence the neglected truth which was its necessary complement/ The main accu s ation we can make against him is, not that he did not sufficiently respect the souriar"eIenients in the system of thought which he inherited, but rather that he did not see the full extent to which they must be modified by the new elements he intro- duced/ Thus he stops short of the necessary end of the process of transformation which he initiates. But this, which is the , defect of his philosophy as an ultimate result, is also that which 86 INTRODTJCTION. "HAP. gives it most value as bringing before us the whole process of the great transition, of that synthetic movement by which philo- sophy at the end of the eighteenth century was raised to a new point of view. The Leibniz- Kant appears in the first period of his intellectual develop- ian Individ- ^-^ r icfi uaiism. jjjg^^. j^g ^j^g supporter of a peculiar modification of the Wolffian philosophy, a modification produced by the effort to bring its principles into harmony with scientific ideas derived from Newton. Although, therefore, we shall have in the sequel to deal with the special points of contact between the critical and other philosophies, it is necessary to say a few words here to show the exact point at which Kant took up the speculative problem. The history of the development of philosophy from Leibniz to Wolff, like the history of its development from Locke to Hume, is a history of the progress of Individualism to its necessary consummation in Scepticism. This negative movement of thought, indeed, is not so obvious and manifest in the former case as in the latter. Still, in spite of the formal completeness and comprehensiveness which is maintained to the last in the system of Wolff, we have not much difficulty in unveiling the character of the process by which the individual was gradually separated from the universal, till he ceased to have any content or meaning in himself. Leibniz developed his individualism under the immediate influence of Spinoza. Hence he saw the necessity of providing for the unity of the individual with the whole of which he is a part, and especially for the relation of the individual to the world which he knows. His individual sub- stances or monads are, therefore, conceived as in some sort universal. Each monad ideally includes, while it really excludes the whole universe : if it is independent of the world, it is be- cause in a manner it contains the world in itself. Leibniz lays great emphasis on both of these two points of view. On the one hand, the universe is merely a collective unity, and in all its apparent complexity and continuity there is no reality except that which is found in the isolated individuals of which it is Ill- KANT S PRECURSORS FROM DESCARTES TO WOLFF. 87 made up. " There can be nothing real or substantial in the collection, unless the units be substantial." ^ And these units are absolutely impenetrable to all influences from without. " They have no windows through which anything might go into them, or go out of them." ^ Each is a little world developing under its own laws " as if there were nothing in existence but itself and God." ^ And the exception made in favour of God is, as we shall see, an unexplained mercy. On the other hand, each monad in itself " represents," or " expresses," the whole universe. It is a " living mirror, gifted with an internal activity, whereby it represents the whole universe according to its particular point of view, and in such a way that its ideal universe has all the regularity of the real one." * It is " like a separate world, sufficient for itself, independent of every other creature, enveloping the infinite, expressing the Universe; and it is as durable, self-subsistent and absolute as the universe itself" ^ Finally the connecting link between these two opposite aspects of the world is the " pre-established harmony," or, in other words, it is God, the universal principle of unity, who is Himself the first of monads, and who so constitutes the other monads that their inner lives shall move in unison, and that the ideal picture of the world which is present in each shall correspond to the reality. These are the three main aspects of Monadism, and it will Son and^Ideai enable us to understand the weakness as well as the strength monads. of the system, if we devote a few words to each of them. If we follow out the idea of the real separateness of the monads from each other we are obliged to conceive the world as 'a col- lection of absolutely unrelated units. Eeal continuity, i.e., a complexity which is not resolvable into indivisible units, is on this principle impossible. Hence Leibniz denies the reality of space and extended matter. Por the extended as such is con- tinuous and infinitely divisible. The Atomists, attempting to 1 Erdmann's Leibniz, 714 ^ Id. 705. ^ 7^;. 127. ^ Id. 714. ^ Id. 128. 88 INTRODUCTION". chap. reach individual substance, fell into the error of supposing the existence of something in space, which yet was without parts. But their failure only shows the impossibility of .finding a real unit in space. The real units or monads, therefore, must be unextended ; and the conceptions of space and extended sub- stance are " confused ideas " : and they are connected with other confused ideas, viz., the ideas of time, of motion, as well as of the external determination of one substance by another. In reality monads have only internal determinations, or in other words, " perceptions," and their relations are limited to correspondence in these perceptions. The world in time and space is merely a phenomenal world, i.e., a world apprehended through the confused perceptions of sense, and not through the clear and distinct conceptions of the understanding. The external world is, indeed, no mere illusion : it is a phenomenon bene fundatum, a coherent and connected appearance, subject to definite laws which are exhibited in substantial and physical science. Nay, the connexion of phenomena in time and space is in perfect correspondence with the connexion or harmony of real things, though the former is determined in accordance with the law of efficient, and the latter with the law of final, causation. In other words, all monads are determined from within, but their self-determination corresponds exactly with an apparent determination from without, which takes place in their phenomena as perceived by us in space and time. " Zes dines agissent selon les loix des causes finales par appititions, fins et moyens. Les corps agissent selon les loix des causes efiicientes, ou des mouvements ; et les deux rtgnes, celui des causes efficientes, et celui des causes. finales, sont harmoniques entre eux."^ They are harmonious, because the latter is the reality of which the former is the phenomenon, though Leibniz often speaks as if they were two separate kingdoms of reality. The phenomenal world is only the real world confused, or perhaps we ought rather to say, refracted, in passing through the medium of sense ; but the ' Monadologie, 79. Ill- KANT S PRECURSORS FROM DESCARTES TO WOLFF. 89 refraction follows a regular law of change, transmuting the harmonious development of the inner life of the different self- evolving monads into the external connexion of iDhenomena which act and react on each other in space and time. Whence, then, comes that '' confusion '" ia the inner life of "^^ oontinu. ' ous scale of the monad, by reason of which its representation of the ^^'°*' universe falls short of reality and sinks to the phenomenal ? In answer to this question Leibniz is obliged greatly to qualify his doctrine as to the self-determination of the monads.. God alone, he declares, is actus purus, but into the original constitu- tion of every other monad he has introduced a passive element, a. prima materia, a. limit: and its absolute spontaneity^ therefore, does not mean that it is unlimited, but that it is limited only by the negative element of its own nature. !Now as the activity of the monad is representative or perceptive, this limit takes the form of a certain confusion in its perceptions. The whole world is present to each monad, but present always with more or less confusion or complexity, owing to the passivity or nega- tion which belongs to them as finite. With this is connected the Leibnizian view of the universe as a graduated scale of being. All monads are perceptive beings, distinguished from each other by the degree of clearness of their perceptions ; and the chain of life extends downwards without a break from God, who apprehends all things in the clearness of pure thought through finite spirits like men, who apprehend the world partly in the light of thought and partly in the confusion of sense, to animals which have only sense perception, and from these again down to monads whose'perceptions are too confused even for sense. But perceptions there must stUl be wherever there is existence : for otherwise there would be no internal deter- mination of the monad, no ideal centre or self to which its life could be referred. The world is thus through and through organic : and, as we have already seen, inorganic matter exists only in the confused ideas of sense. g^^^ ^^^ . Man, then, stands midway in the scale of being, having not ^SJ.^''*'" 90 INTRODUCTION. chap. only perception with its " confused " apprehension of things in their phenomenal appearance in time and space, but thought or apperception, which enables him to grasp their real nature as they are in themselves. What, then, is the relation between those two ways of knowing ? The answer which seems most naturally to follow from the principles of Leibniz is that, as each monad represents the universe, a clear consciousness of itself would enable any monad to see all things in their true nature. Hence, a perfect intelligence would be ruled in all its consciousness by the law of identity and all things would be revealed to it through pure apperception, i.e., through the analytic consciousness of itself. That it is not so with us but that we are conscious of objects as external to us and to each other in space, and that we are obliged to argue from the one to the other according to the law of sufficient reason (or causality) is due to the infinite complexity and confusion in which they are given to us as phenomena through sense. Still the difference of sensation and thought is merely a difference of degree and not of kind. Sensation is but confused thought, and thought but distinct sensation. And there would seem to be no reason why our knowledge should not be raised from con- fusion to distinctness alid so from the phenomenal to the real by the continued progress of analysis, or why at least we should not be continually approximating to the ideal of a determina- tion of things in pure apperception according to the law of identity and without any aid from the principle of sufficient reason. Yet we find that, wherever Leibniz passes to a more exact consideration of the nature of the two ways of knowing, he treats the distinction between perception and apperception as one of kind and not of degree. The opposition between contingent and necessary truth, between truth of fact and truth of reason, is for him not fluctuating, but fixed and unchange- able.' The latter can, he thinks, be carried back by analysis to ^This view is developed by Leibniz, especially in the Nouveaux Bssais, where, in answer to Locke, he draws a wide distinction between the iutelli- HI. KANT's PRECURSOES prom DESCARTES TO WOLEF. 91 self-evident principles and indeed to identical propositions, while the former is entirely incapable of being so analysed'. " I use," he declares, " two principles in demonstration : one of them is the principle that whatever contains a contradiction is false ; the other is the principle that for every truth which is not an identical proposition, a reason can be given. In other words, the notion of the predicate is always explicitly or implicitly contained in the notion of the subject, and this is the case not less in contingent than in necessary truth. The distinction between contingent and necessary truth very closely resembles the distinction between commensurable and incom- mensurable numbers. Just as we can always find a common measure for commensurable numbers, so we can always demon- strate necessary truth, i.e., we can always carry them back to identical propositions. On the other hand, just as the analysis of a ratio of incommensurables produces an infinite series, so contingent truths require an infinite analysis which God only can complete, "Wherefore it is by him alone that they are known certainly and a priori : for though a reason can always be found for the state that succeeds in the state immediately before it, yet this reason requires another reason, and so on ad infinitum. And this processus ad infinitum takes in our knowledge the place of a sufficient reason, which can only be found outside the series in God, on whom all its parts, prior and posterior, depend, far more than they depend on each other. For, when a truth is incapable of final analysis, and cannot be demonstrated from its own reasons, but derives its final reason and certitude from the divine mind alone, it is not necessary. gence of man. and that of the animals. Apperception, it is there asserted, involves that apprehension of universal and necessary truths which gives rise to science, while the animals, being confined to mere perception, are necessarily " pure empirics." It is only another way of stating the same idea when it is said that the other monads represent or express rather the world than God, but that spirit-monads represent or express rather God than the world. Leibniz, however, goes even beyond this and practically adopts the view of Malebranohe when he says that the thinking monad has one immediate external object, viz., ♦God. (Erdmann's Leibniz, 222. ) 92 INTRODUCTION. <^^-"'- Such are all those I call truths of fact, and this is the root of their contingency which I doubt whether any one hitherto has explained." ^ Is sufficient Qn this view it is obvious that the principle of sufficient reason iden- ^ ■*- oiuse°?*°'^ reason would merge in the higher principle of identity, if only the reason were really sufficient : but the limitation of human intelligence is just that such a perfect analysis is impossible to it. Thus, though the distinction is really one of degree, it remains one of kind for us : and this is why we need two separate principles of knowledge. Leibniz, however, gives another view of the principle of sufficient reason which iden- tifies it with the law not of efficient, but of final, causation and makes it the higher principle to which the principle of identity is subordinated. According to this view, a distinction must be drawn between metaphysical and moral necessity, i.e., between the necessity of that which we cannot think otherwise and the necessity of that which we can think otherwise but which must be as it is, because it is for the best, — ^must be because it ought to be. The former necessity, which depends on the principle of identity, fixes the bounds of possibility : even the power of God cannot give existence to that which is self-contradictory. The latter necessity, which depends upon the law of sufficient reason, determines the content of reality : it is the necessity by which God's goodness makes him create " the best of all possible worlds," or, as it is more definitely expressed, the world in which there' is the highest sum of ' compossible ' existence, i.e., of realities that can exist together in one world. JBut'what is the highest sum of all compossible existence ? To Descartes and Spinoza this question could present no difficulty ; for they both accepted the principle that the absolute reality was the unity of all affirmations to the exclusion of all negations. And on that principle there could be no possible discord between positive realities, and all things that were possible would be ' compossible.' Thus no ^Erdmann's Leibniz, 83. III. KANT S PRECURSORS FROM BESOARTES TO WOLFF. 93 room -would be left for the distinction between metaphysical nnd moral necessity, between that which is because it is, and that which is because it is for the best. But as we saw, the necessary result of this way of thinking was a Pantheism, for which all distinction and limitation, all finite being, disappeared in the one absolute substance,' — a system which could not but be rejected by Leibniz, the keynote of whose speculation is individuality and self-determination. Hence the idea to which Leibniz holds, though by no means in a clear and consequent way, is that the absolute Being is not a mere ens realissimum or unity of affirmative predicates, but a self-determining monad, who reveals himself in a world of monads, each of which has its own self-determined individuality, distinct and independent of that of all the others, while yet all are held together in the pre-established harmony of one world. In this world there are no " indiscernibles," no monads absolutely like each other : yet each is a microcosm in which the whole is represented. But the p^'incipium melioris or principle of sufficient reason, on this view of it, is not merely different from the principle of identity but directly opposed to it. For while the latter is an analytic principle which, if it were taken as absolute, would force us to seek for identity under every appearance of differ- ence, the former is a principle of synthesis which involves that there is no identity which does not manifest itself in real differences.' Leibniz, however, as he escaped the opposition between true indi^^iduality and the universal relativity of the monad by making the one real and the other ideal, so he evades the opposition between the principium melioris and the ■principle of identity by making the latter a principle of possi- bility, and the former a principle of reality. And he hides from himself the inconsistency of having two first principles by the conception of a God who selects among possibilities those which are capable- of combination,, and which, when combined, will produce the greatest sum of reality. " It is yet unknown to me," he declares, " what is the reason of the 94 INTRODUCTION. <^H-*-P- incompossibility of different things or how it is that the natures of different things can be opposed to each other, seeing that all purely positive terms seem to be compatible." This assertion shows how uncertain is Leibniz's hold of the prin- ciples by which he is guided. For the last clause can only mean that he has no intelligible reason to give for departing from the principles of Spinoza, though he is aware that they are fatal to his characteristic doctrine of the independent reality of individual substances. With similar inconsistency he accepts the definition of God as the union of all affirmative predicates, not seeing apparently any more than Spinoza that such a definition is inconsistent with the idea of God as a causa sui or self-determining monad, and still more inconsistent with the idea that he is a self-revealing subject or good being, who, because he is good, must create other beings like himself. Again, while he admits the necessity of reciprocal negation, limitation and conflict in the world of finite monads, he yet does not seem to regard this merely as an accidental evil, bound up with the attainment of the highest good. Hence the highest good is for him not a positive good which is realised in and through negation and evil, but an abstract sum of reality which can be attained in spite of such negation. Finally, as might be expected, in his conception of the relation of God as the highest monad to the other monads, he is poised between two inconsistent alternatives : for whenever he is in earnest with the reality of the individual substances, God is reduced to another word for the harmony that prevails between them ; and whenever he is in earnest with the reality of God, all the other monads shrink into momentary expressions or " modes" of his unity. If " God alone is the primitive unity or simple originative substance, of which all created or deriva- tive monads are the productions, born, as it were of the continual fulgurations of divinity from moment to moment,"^ the independence of the monads shrinks within very narrow ^ Erdmann's Leibniz, 708. III. KANT S PRECURSORS TROM DESCARTES TO WOLFF. 95 limits. If, on the other hand, " every spirit " (and therefore in a sense every monad) " is like a separate world, sufficient for itself, independent of any other creature, enveloping the in- finite, expressing the universe, and as durable, as self-sufficient and as absolute as the universe itself," ^ where is there room for God ? It may now appear what is the weakness and what is the summary view of the strength of the philosophy of Leibniz. Its strength lies in this £ei^°n?f''y "* that, while he introduced into philosophy the principle of individuality, which was characteristic of the following century, he yet keeps hold of the principle of universality which was characteristic of the previous age. His weakness lies in this, that he achieved no real synthesis between the two elements which he thus brought together. He puts side by side the real individuality of the monad and its ideal relativity to the universe ; the absolute independence of each substance and the immediate relation of all substances to God; the analytic prin- ciple of identity and the synthetic principle of sufficient reason ; the idea of God as the ens realissimum, who absorbs all positive existence into himself and the idea of Him as the self-revealing spirit, whose nature it is to create other monads different from himself and from each other and through their difference to realise the highest unity. Nor does he ever attain anything more than an external " harmony " between these different sides of his philosophy. A system whose parts were joined together with such un- tempered mortar could not but yield to the dissolving force of time, and it was natural that, in the first instance at least, the inconsistency should be remedied not by seeking for a deeper principle of reconciliation between the different elements, but by dropping those of them which were least in harmony with the spirit of the age. Wolff "swept and garnished" the Leibnizian philosophy. Without changing the outer frame- work of the system, he sought to make it self-consistent, and in • ' Erdmann's Leibniz, 12S. 96 INTRODUCTION. chap. doing so he gradually eliminated all those speculative elements which saved it from the emptiness of a formal Individualism. At the end of the process it was found that the kernel had been removed and only the husk left for show, and thus the hour of triumph of the Wolffian philosophy was the hour of its fall. Wolffs con- Wolffs first step was to discard the synthetic principles sietent Indi- ^ diSyrthe which Leibniz had introduced, by reducing the law of sufQcient phuSS'. reason to the law of identity ; and the way in which he reached this result shows that he took that law in the strict Spinozistic sense. He begins with two definitions : Nihilum, est cui nulla, respondet notio and aliquid est cui notio aliqua respondet. Thus " something " and " nothing " are contradictories between which there is no middle term. But no repetition of nothings can make them equivalent to something, or, in other words, ex nihilo nihil fit : which is simply the converse of the proposition that there is a positive reason for everything. It is evident that this argument rests on that absolute separation of affirmation and negation of which the necessary result was seen in Spinozism. For, strictly speaking, it involves not only that nothing can come of nothing, but that there is no " coming " or development at all, either in thought or reality. Hence there is no meaning left for the distinction of reason and consequent, which Wolff suddenly produces upon us as by a stroke of logical sleight of hand. Wolffs definition of " nothing," id cui nulla respondet notio, would be sufficient to refute him: for it is a definition of the indefinable : and as the definition of " something " has significance only by contrast therewith, it too becomes unmeaning. Thus Wolffs argument implicitly involves the principle that " all determination is negation," the immediate corollary of which is that positive reality can only be found in an absolutely undetermined being or substance. But while Wolff thus goes back to the formal principle of Spinoza, he is as far as possible from coinciding with Spinoza's tendency to dissolve all finite being in the universality of substance. On the contrary the Ill- KANt's precursors from DESCARTES TO WOLFF. 97 presupposition, upon which he always rests as an absolute basis of certitude, is the pure individuality of all real being ; and he rejects altogether the qualifying idea by which Leibiliz saved himself from Atomism, that each monad is representative of the universe. The only remnant of this which Wolff retains is the idea that the soul is in pre-established harmony with the body, so as to apprehend its affections and the world through them, and it is only in this sense that he can still call the soul a vis repraesentativa universi. Even this part of the Leibnizian theory he accepts with some hesitation, as being the most probable Recount of the relation of two substances so heterogeneous as soul and body, between which it seems impossible to conceive of any direct relation. In like manner he retains the Leibnizian idea of God, as an external power who combines into one universe the individual substances which in themselves have no necessary or essential relation to each other. In truth, without these two assumptions the unity of things with each other and with the mind that knows them must have altogether disappeared in the Wolffian philosophy. For in it the harmony of soul and body is the one link between consciousness and the world — the one principle which saves the individual from being imprisoned in his own self-consciousness. And the idea of a Grod, who keeps together the disjecta membra of the world and fits them to each other by an external process of arrangement, is a necessary expedient to correct the isolation to which things were reduced by the individualistic principle. For, if the world is merely a collection of independent things, it is obvious that its parts must be held together by a foreign hand, and if the mind and its object are essentially disparate, their relation can only be an externally produced harmony. With Leibniz, indeed, these consequences of individualism were partly con- cealed. For, with him the ideal harmony of things was always / on the point of passing into their real unity as organic elements of one world, and the principle of identity, by which each thing was referred to itself, had beside it the principle VOL. I. G 98 INTRODUCTION. CHAP. of sufficient reason, by which it was related to all other things. But, as with Wolff the whole process of reason reduces itself to analysis, there is for him no possibility of bringing into essential relations any elements of thought or reality which have once been separated or even dis- tinguished. It is only in so far as he derives from experience, or from the common consciousness, the idea of a connexion of things with each other or with thought that he has anything left to analyse ; and if his analysis does not end in absolutely destroying any such connexion, it is an unexplained mercy, or a mercy which can be explained only by the imperfect way in which Wolff realised what he was doing. As it is, all con- ' nexion or unity is reduced by him to an external composition. All, therefore, that was necessary, in order to bring down the whole edifice of the Wolffian system like a house of cards, was that scepticism should be directed against the principle of con- nexion which it still retained ; or in other words, that it should be pointed out that on Wolff's principles there was no rational ground for any belief in the unity of objects with each other or with the knowing subject. priM^pStho What has just been said may be illustrated from another power of '^° point of vicw by a short regress. So soon as the principle of reason must be denied. identity ccascs to be taken in the Spinozistic sense as the negation of all real differences ; so soon, in short, as it ceases to be understood as a principle of analysis, which can only be used to exhibit more definitely the different elements contained in any given subject of predication, it becomes obvious that no process of thought founded upon it can enable us to go beyond the data with which we start. Either, . therefore, we must suppose that there is some other principle of thought by which its defects are supplied, some principle of synthesis, like Leibniz's principium melioris, which may be brought to the aid of the principle of analysis ; or we must suppose that' all the connexions of things are given in experience, leaving to thought no task except to analyse them : or, lastly, we must Ill- KANT S PRECURSORS FROM DESCARTES TO WOLET. 99 suppose that the synthetic unity of knowledge arises in some way out of the combination of the manifold data of sense passively received with an activity of thought. Now the third of these solutions of the difficulty we may leave out of account, as it was not conceived, or at least clearly worked out, by any one before Kant. The first solution was formally rejected by Wolff, when he reduced the principle of sufficient reason to the principle of identity. Hence it would seem inevitable that he should have accepted the second alternative. And this he practically did, though with no distinct consciousness of what he was doing. It is true that he draws a wide distinction between the a priori and the a posteriori, the pure and the empirical, parts of each department of philosophy, between rational and empirical Psychology, rational arid empirical Cosmology, etc. But this distinction has no meaning in a system in which reason is reduced to the function of analysis, 1 and is supposed to be unable to establish any relation between ideas except that they contain, or do not contain, each other. In fact, Wolff is obliged frequently to appeal to experience, not only for all his data, but also and above all for the connective principles by which these- data are related to each other : and even where the appeal is not directly made, we can easily see that such principles are tacitly borrowed from the ordinary consciousness of his time. Now, so soon as the critics of the Wolffian system began to detect this secret, the effect was to discredit reason as a source of knowledge and to reduce it to a ' merely formal activity. And as reason was discredited, its place could be taken only by experience. The result of the Wolffian method was, therefore, the very opposite of that which its author proposed. He had been possessed with a noble confidence in the power of intelligence to clear up all darkness and to penetrate all the mysteries of things ; but in the end he seemed only to prove the barrenness of thought in itself,, and the necessity that everything should be given to it • from without. He sought to show that the world was an 100 INTRODUCTION. "HAP. intelligible system, in which the mind could find the counter- part of its own transparent unity ; but, if he proved anything, it was that the whole nature of the world must be taken as an unintelligible fact, and that the bond of union between its elements is something upon which thought can throw no light, something which must be accepted by a faith which is either above, or below, reason. Wolff thus played into the hands of those to whom he was most opposed, the Empiricists and the Pietists. For each of these proposed to supply the evidence of immediate experience for certain of the prin- ciples which Wolff was obliged to assume, the former for the principles supplied in his physical, and the latter for the principles implied in his metaphysical, philosophy. On the other hand, if reason were to reject such assistance, if it were to refuse to accept the external aid of faith and experience, what must be the result ? The analytic philosophy which separated object from object, and subject from object, must end in depriving all these elements of their meaning. For an (individual thing, separated from all its relations, becomes I a " thing in itself," of which nothing can be said ; and a thinking subject which has no consciousness of any object but itself, is necessarily limited to what Kant calls the " analytic unity of apperception," i.e., the mere tautological " I am I " of self- consciousness. In short, the abstract individual, separated from all other individuals, is as empty and indeterminate as the abstract universal, and for the same reason. For a philosophy which excludes all synthetic principles of 'reason is forced in the end either to accept the truth as an unintelligible datum from without, or to reduce it to a blank form without any content or matter. P,l''?L°,*™ °* It cannot be said that these inferences were distinctly drawn Wolff s pre- .' harmonytf ^^^her by those who supported, or by those who opposed, the body and soul. -Yyoifgan philosophy. But the logical effect of a system is often felt or anticipated long before it is explicitly stated. In this case it showed itself in the growing influence of its rival. Ill- KANT S PREOTJRSQRS FROM DESCARTES TO WOLFF. 101 the empirical philosophy, in the development of several forms of Eclecticism, and finally in the gradual transformation of the Wolffian philosophy itself at the hands of its adherents. This transformation began, as might be expected, by a criticism of the principles of connexion between individual substances, which •were still retained from Leibniz in the Wolffian philosophy. For Wolff, insisting upon the conception of the monads as isolated individuals and as, therefore, in all the changes of their states independent of any action from without, had rejected Leibniz's qualifying idea that these monads perceive or repre- sent the world. Perception and representation were for him the attributes of the spirit-monad only, and even it was regarded as, in the first instance, representative only of the body attached to it. But with this change of the Leibnizian doctrine, the inner life of those monads which were not souls became a blank, and the spirit-monad was so widely separated from all the others that its perception of them became some- thing anomalous and almost miraculous. It was this that caused Wolff to be so hesitating in his assertion of the pre- established harmony between body and soul. His hesitation, however, only betrayed the weak place in his system, upon which all its opponents at once directed their attack. The crude form of the theory of an injluxus physicus, i.e., of a mere determination of the passive soul from without as by material impact, could easily be refuted by those who had been taught by Leibniz that there is no such passivity even in matter, but that every material element as such is a centre of. force. But, on the other hand, the science of mechanics seemed to show that there is no force or determination which is purely internal and is not correlative with a determination from without ; and the same principle seemed applicable mutatis mutandis to the relation of soul and body, in the sense that there is no consciousness of self which is not a reaction upon a stimulus from without. Baumgarten, who finally summed up the result • of the controversy, preserved the Wolffian doctrine in name 102 INTRODUCTION. ™'*^^- while sacrificing its substance, when he denied real, and admitted only ideal, influence of monads upon each other; defining a real influence, however, as one to which the object acted on contributes nothing, while an ideal influence is one in which the effect produced in one substance by the action of another involves an activity in the substance affected.' Accord- ing to this view it was still possible to assert that there are none but ideal relations between substances, in the sense that one substance cannot act upon another substance except to stimulate it to the activity that is characteristic of it ; and that in particular a material substance can be stimulated only to motion and a thinking substance to thought. It is, how- ever, obvious that by this interpretation the idea of the pure self-determination of substances, which Wolff had inherited from Leibniz and had even exaggerated, was altogether surrendered.^ Knutzen's It was Knutzcu, the teacher of Kant, who took the foremost synthesis of Ne-Jrton'"* part in the controversy which led to this result — a result which really meant the surrender of the central principle of the Wolf&o-Leibnizian philosophy, i.e., the pure inward self-deter- mination of the individual substance. Knutzen, however, does not seem to have reached his conclusions by simple reflexion upon that philosophy. He did not begin by recognising that a purely inward self-determination is empty or self-contradictory, and then proceed to argue that an individual substance cannot determine itself except in relation to another substance which acts upon it. Eather, his view was suggested by the study of Newton's Princi^ia, and it was developed in the effort to com- bine Newton's ideas with the principles he had previously learnt from Leibniz and Wolff. At the same time, it was the inner necessity of this new idea, — the necessity for it arising from the development of the Wolffian philosophy itself, — which made the acceptance of it so rapid and irrevocable. With this syn- 1 Benno Erdmann [Martin Knutzen und Seine Zeit, oh. 4) has given the first clear account of this controversy and its result. in. KANT's precursors FROM DESCARTES TO WOLFF. 103 thesis of Knutzen began the process of organic combination between the hitherto separated and opposed streams of English and German thought, between the Empiricism of Locke and the Eationahsm of Leibniz: a process which could not end till it had transformed the problem of philosophy by raising it to a point of view above that of either of these one-sided schools. A short sketch of the earlier period of the philosophical develop- ment of Kant will show us how he attained to this new point of view. An account of the later history of it will show how from it he gradually accomplished the consequent transforma- tion o,f philosophy. 104 CHAPTEE IV. THE PRE-CEITIOAL PERIOD OF KANT'S MENTAL HISTORY. Kanfs earliest TZ'ANT, as we have seen, was educated during the period in writiogs. rV ' «eoMU? *° which the Wolffian philosophy was in process of disintegra- Leibniz. ''" tion even at the hands of its own disciples, and he was the pupil of one who did much to hasten that process. Knutzen sought to correct Wolff by the aid of Newton ; and in doing so he was led to give the coup de grdce to the theory of pre-established harmony, and to revive in a better form the theory of an inflivxus physicus. In the first period of Kant's career his thoughts ran in the same groove with those of his teacher; i.e., he was still under the general influence of Wolffian Eationalism, attempting only to modify it in such a way as to make room for the mechanical conception of nature initiated by Newton. Thus in his youthful essay on vis -viva, he not only rejects the Cartesian idea of matter as a passive substance which is determined purely from without, in favour of the Leibnizian idea that it is made up of elements which are active centres of force, but he goes on to turn this conception against Leibniz himself, who had supposed that sxich force belongs only to moving bodies. He contends, on the con- trary, that it must be conceived as itself a source of movement. Connected with this is the idea that the individual substances are possessed of attractive, and not only, as Leibniz had main- tained, of repulsive, force in relation to each other. This idea Kant, of course, received from Newton, of whom he was an CHAP. IV. PEE-CRITICAL WRITINGS OF KANT. 105 enthusiastic student. Nor did he content himself with repeat- ing Newton's ideas, he also tried to develop them, and that in two directions. On the one hand, in the Natural History and Theory of the Heavens, he tried to show that the mechanical principles which Newton had used to explain the solar system would account also for its genesis ; i.e., they explain how matter diffused through space would, by the reciprocal attraction and repulsion of its particles, be turned into a system of planetary bodies revolving round a central orb in the way exempli- fied in the solar system. On the other hand, in his Monado- logia Physica, he attempted by a regress from the Newtonian theory to determine the ultimate constitution of matter. The idea of actio in distans, which was rejected by Leibniz and which even Newton accepted only as a provisional hypothesis, was asserted by Kant as a necessary part of the dynamic idea of matter. Kant argued that if, according to the Leibnizian view, the primary substances are points of force, they must be simple unextended substances which, taken individually, cannot be conceived as occupying space at all. But they may occupy it in relation to each other, in so far as each monad excludes or repels the others (with a force which as it acts in every direction, must be supposed to vary inversely as the cube of the distance between them). On the other hand, if this were the only force which the monads possessed, they could not consti- tute matter as we know it ; for under its action they would isolate themselves from each other and dissolve all continuity : they could never retain any definite volume or mass. "We must, therefore, suppose that the monads are held together by an opposite force, which, as it depends upon the spherical superficies over which the action is extended, varies inversely as the square of the distance. ■ In this theory it is to be observed that Kant, like Leibniz, Kant begins •' ' ' with the begins with the individuality of things as separate substances S,t'proceed8 or monads existing in simple self- identity ; he then goes on to andpMitTve, conceive them as having repulsive force, i.e., as negatively 106 INTRODUCTION. chap, related to each other, each, so to speak, asserting itself and negating the others : and finally he shows that this negative relation implies a positive relation, an attractive force which they exercise upon each other ; for otherwise they could not be kept in relation so as even to repel each other. Both forces are thus necessary to the occupation of space. The external way in which these different elements are added to each other exhibits clearly the process of self-correction by which Kant reaches his final conception. And, as we shall have many occasions of observing, it is characteristic of Kant that, while he qualifies the individual self-identity of the monad, first by the conception of its negative, and then of its positive rela- tivity, the result he thus reaches does not lead him to go back upon his starting point, or to set aside the absolute individuality of the monad with which he began. His first Kant's Dilucidatio Nova, published in 1755, in the same Metaphysical Beassertion of 7^^^ '^^^^^^ ^^^ Monodologici PJhysica, enables us to see more of suEeS'^ exactly the degree to which he still retained his hold upon the general principles of the system of Wolff. In that treatise he starts, like Wolff, with the principles of identity and contradic- tion as the highest principles of truth. But he immediately goes on to treat as a principle at least partially independent the law of sufficient, or rStner, as he prefers to call it, of deter- minant reason. Determinant reason, he adds, appears in two different forms : as ratio antecedenter determinans, or as ratio conseguenter determinans. The latter is a mere ratio cognoscendi, which enables us to connect a given predicate with the subject, but does not tell us why it is so connected in reality. The former is a ratio essendi ml fiendi, which not only explains the connexion but is the cause of its existence (non, solum explanat, sed ejicit). Thus, to take Kant's example, the eclipses of Jupiter's satellites may be the means of our discovering the rate of the pro- pagation of light, but no one would say that these eclipses' are the real reason of the rate being such as it is. On the contrary, the phenomena of these eclipses could be what they arfe only reason. l^- PEE-CRITICAL WRITINGS OF KANT. ,107 on' the presupposition of the actual constitution of light. But if we were to adopt the Cartesian theory, that the reason of the propagation of light lies in the definite elasticity of the globes of ether, and if we were able on this basis to calculate the rate of its propagation, we should be tracing it to its real reason or ratio antecedenter deter minans} From this it would appear that the ratio consequenter deter- '^^^^ ^"* ininans is the fact or datum by analysing which we discover a s™""'^- principle ; whereas the ratio antecedenter determinans is the principle in which we find the reason why the datum or fact is what it is. Under the head of ratio antecedenter determinans, however, Kant brings both the ratio veritatis and ratio existen- tiae, the ideal and the real ground, pointing out that in the case of the former the ground may be either that the predicate is involved directly in the nature of the subject, or that it is con- nected with it by some tertium quid. We may, therefore, say that no true proposition lacks a ratio antecedenter determinans. It is somewhat different in the case of the ratio existentiae, for we cannot say that everything has a real reason or cause. We can only say that all contingent existence has a real reason, but that ultimately the reason for all such existence must be found in that necessary being which has no ratio antecedenter deter- minans. This distinction of the real and ideal reason, which > Kant adopts from Crusius, leads him decidedly to reject the idea that existence can ever be included as an element in the conception of an object. If we speak, in the language of Wolff, of the essences of things as absolutely necessary, all that we can mean is not that the things in question necessarily exist, but that, given their existence, they necessarily have certain predicates. " The essence of a triangle, which consists in the construction of three straight lines in a certain way, is not per se necessary. For what sane person would argue that the three sides must be always conceived as meeting in that way ? All that is necessary by the principle of identity is that, iR. I, 11; H. I. 373. 108 INTRODUCTION. chap. if you think of a triangle, you are bound to think of the sides as so united."^ This consideration is fatal, as Crusius had shown, to the ontological argument for the being of God in its usual form. For all it proves is that, if we include existence in our idea of God, we are bound to determine him as existing. In order to make it a valid argument, we are obliged, therefore, to give it a new form. We cannot prove God's existence from the essence or conception of Him, as from a ratio antecedenter determinans, but we may show that His existence is presupposed in the conception of Himself, and indeed in the conception of anything. Datur ens cujus existentia praevertit ipsam et ipsius et omnium rerum possibilitatem. Vocatur Deus? The proof of this is that the question of possibility can only arise when we have certain determinate data which we can compare, and as to which we can ask whether it is, or is not, possible to combine them without contradiction. But this means that we take the data as real in considering the possibility of their combination. Hence, ia considering the question of possibility, we are always dealing with the modified or determinate forms of a presupposed primary reality, to which we are necessarily carried back as the " material of all possibility," the underlying unity of which all conceivable existence is some special limitation. This, there- fore, is the ratio antecedenter determinans of all existence, for which it is absurd to seek a reason. On the other hand, everything but this primary reality is contingent and deter- mined to exist by a reason other than its own nature. Hence Kant distinguishes the ratio veritatis and the ratio adualitatis s. exisfentiae in the following way. " In the former the ques- tion is only as to the assertion of a predicate, which we are enabled to assert by reason of its identity with the subject regarded either in itself or in its connexion with other thiags." In this case, therefore, the ratio antecedenter determinans reduces itself to the principle of identity, and " all we do is to throw light on a ' connexion of subject and ^ R. I. 15 ; H. 1. 376. ^^ R. I. 14 ; H. I. 376. IV. PBE-CRITICAL WRITINGS OF KANT. 109 predicate which is. already given. But in the latter case we are examining not merely whether the predicate belongs to the subject or not, but why it does so. If the opposite predicate be excluded by the absolute position of the subject, we have va. the subject a being whose existence is necessary absolutely and per se. But if not, then there must be something else which, by positively determining the subject so and not otherwise, excludes the existence of the opposite." ^ A ratio antecedenter determinans or real ground is, therefore, required only in the case of the existence of finite substances and their states. Yet of the general reason for the existence of finite substances Kant gives no account and could give none ; for the Kant does not give a real God he has proved is merely the indeterminate substance of 1^°™?'"*''^ ^ >/ finite m Spinoza, which contains in itself no reason for the existence of on?y for''"' anything but itself. The self-limitation by which God is sup- phenomena. posed to create finite things is, therefore, a conception for which Kant provides no justification (any more than Spinoza could explain the existence of attributes and modes).^ In place, therefore, of the inference which Kant actually draws, viz., that the " quantity of reality in the finite world cannot be naturally increased or diminished," it would have been more logical to infer that the absolute substance is without change or limit. When, however, the existence of finite substances has once been assumed, Kant is able to give a better account of the reasons or causes of their changing states. For, from the general principle of determinant reason, he derives two subordinate principles, which he calls the principle of succession and the principle of coexistence. The principle of succession is that " no change principle of can occur in substances unless they are connected with others, ' in such a way that their reciprocal dependence determines a mutual change of state." This is proved by the consideration that a substance existing by itself can only have internal states which are determined for it by reasons that flow from its own nature. But this nature is, ex hypothesi, simple and incapable 1 R. I. 19 ; H. I. 380. ^ R. I. 31 ; H. I. 389. succession. 110 INTRODUCTION. chap. of being changed by'itself . It follows that all reasons or causes of change must come from without, from other substances with which it is brought into connexion. If therefore a commercium of substances is established, it cannot be accounted for by their bare existence as individual substances. On the contrary such individuality would rather imply that each of them should have an existence which is completely intelligible apart from the coexStence. othcrs. Hcncc wc have the second ' principle of coexistence,' that "finite substances by their mere coexistence are not de- termined as having any relation to each other, and are held together in no mutual commercium except so far as they are maintained in it by a common principle, i.e., by the divine intelligence." " The schema of the divine intelligence in which all creatures take their origin is a continuous act commonly called preservation : and if in that act there were any substances which were conceived by God as solitary and without any relation between their determinations, no connexion or mutual reciprocity could ever arise between such substances ; if, however, substances be conceived relatively in the divine intelligence, then, conformably to this idea, their determination will always thereafter have a mutual reference during all the continuance of their existence, i.e., they will act and react, and each of them will have an external state, which could not be accounted for by their existence alone apart from the uniting principle."^ Kant goes on to say that space and position are names for relations of substances which have mutual com- mercium through their common dependence on God, relations which would otherwise have no existence. Hence we may gather that the Newtonian attraction, or universal gravitation of matter, is " probably the effect of the same nexus of sub- stances whereby they determine space." In any case this view enables us to mediate between the theories of pre-established harmony and occasional causes on one side, and the crude idea of an influxus physicus on the other ; for while, according to '■ E. I. 41 ; H. I. 397. IV. PRE-CRITICAL WRITINGS OF KANT. 1 1 1 the view above stated, we maintain that there is a real action and reaction of substances, we yet hold that that action and reaction cannot be explained by the nature of individual substances as such, apart from. their dependence upon the one absolute principle, which at once gives them existence and binds them together in one world. In the treatise iust analysed we see the compromise at which compromise ^ 'J r between Iiidi- Kant had arrived at the beginning of his philosophical career. Thelstlcunity* It is not accurate to say that . in it Kant shows himself a thoroughgoing supporter of the dogmatic Eationalism of Wolff, any more than to say that he has distinctly broken away from it. There is as yet no trace of acquaintance with those ideas of Locke and Hume, which were afterwards to infliaence him so powerfully. But the study of Newton has introduced a new principle which is already transforming his philosophy from within. Thus Kant assumes as an axiomatic principle that the world is a collection of simple individual substances with a nature of their own which is determined purely from within ; but he immediately modifies his view by the conception thab that which manifests itself in the phenomenal relations of the substances is not their inner nature but only their changing states which are determined by the action and reaction going on between them. Yet this external influence of the substances upon each other is asserted to be not merely accidental but due to the same creative act which gave them existence. Thus, in conformity with Leibnizian principles, there is a certain ideal priority given to the individuality of the substances as com- pared with their relativity ; and even when that relativity is brought in, as in the Monadologia Physica, the repulsive force is treated as prior to the attractive, i.e., the negative relation of substances to the positive.^ But as in that treatise it is argued that both forces are necessary to the constitution of matter, so here the unity of the monads as elements in the same world is ^It is: noticeable that this priority of the repulsive force maintains itself in *Kant's fjhought to the last, i.e., in the Metaphysical Rudiments of Physics. 112 INTRODUCTION. chap. supposed to be communicated to them along with their exist- ence as individuals.^ Indeed, although Kant speaks of an inner state of the monads determined for them apart from their relations, he neither here nor in the Monadologia Physica makes any attempt to define it. At a later period, in the Critique of Pure Reason, we find him saying that, if monads have an inner state of being, it must be that which Leibniz attributed to them, a status representativus : for thought or consciousness is the only conceivable inner state which a substance can have.^ Here, however, Kant says nothing of the Leibnizian theory, and the inner state or independent being of the monads apart from all external relations remains an empty abstraction, which merely indicates Kant's individualistic starting point. But this ab- straction leads to a further result. Just because Kant con- ceives the individuality or independence of the substances and their relativity or dependence upon each other as separate moments, which have no necessary relation to each other, he needs a tertium quid to mediate between them. The dev^ ex machina has to be introduced, since otherwise it would be im- possible to conceive of the individual things or monads as, notwithstanding their individuality, acting upon each other, or even as contained in one space : for as contained in space there already is a relation between them which is not implied in their mere existence. God is needed to account for the unity of the world. " Since therefore," Kant argues, " the mere existence of substances is . plainly insufficient to account for their mutual connexion and reciprocal influence, and an external nexus of things independent implies a common prin- ciple through which their existence is determined with relation to each other : and since, without such a common principle, no general bond of union can be conceived, we have here a most ^ E. I. 44 ; H. I. 399. Est realis mbstantiarum in se invicem facta actio, sen commercium per causas vcro efficientes, cpwniam idem quod existentiam reram stabilit principium, ipsas liuic legi alligaias exhibet. 2 A. 274; B. 330. IV. PRE-CEITICAL WRITINGS OP KANT. 113 evident proof of the existence of God, and, indeed, of the ex- istence of one God — a proof which is far more convincing than the common argument ex contingentia mundi."^ In this theory there is a curious inversion of the point of impf'ect •^ ^ developmeut view maintained by Leibniz and Wolff, though the lingering ?he reiatMty influence of their doctrines is still traceable. Leibniz had argued ° that, because substances are individual there can be no real relations between them. Kant argues that, unless the sub- stances be in real relation to each other, this simple individuality would make their changing states incomprehensible. At the same time, their relations are explained not as necessary pro- perties but as separable accidents of them, and God has to take the place of a synthetic principle to bind together substances which are not necessarily connected. Since, however, the rela- tions of the substances are represented by Kant as real and not merely ideal, and since the substances can manifest their nature only in those relations, the opposition of their individu- ality to their relativity is on the point of disappearing, and with it of course must disappear the externality of the principle that unites them. For, if the difference of the substances be merely a relative difference, i.e., a difference of elements which are n\Dthing apart from their relations to each other, the binding principle cannot be regarded as an external link of connexion, but must be taken simply as the unity which underlies the differences of the substances, and which manifests itself in their action and reaction upon each other. Such a conception is not of course furnished to us by Kant, Kant'srecuv- ■*- .J ' rence to the but he makes a step towards it when he treats God as not fS ofood. merely an external power who arranges the monads and binds them to each other, but as the real being who is presupposed in all possibility, i.e., the positive or affirmative unity which is the basis or presupposition of all determination and distinction. For it is to be noticed that, while Kant rejects the ontological argument in the form in which it was stated by Wolff, » iR. I. 42; H. I. 398. VOL. I. H 114 INTRODUCTION. CHAP. Importance of this change. he restores it in another form, i.e., in the form which was characteristic of Descartes and Spinoza. "We may not, he thinks, argue that the being whom we conceive as the omnitudo realitatis necessarily exists, on the ground that if he did not exist, existence, which is a species of reality, would be lacking to the idea of him ; for in such an inference we make a leap from the ideal to the real. To such logic, it is sufficient to answer that " if all realities without exception are united in any being, that being must exist : but if they are only con- ceived as united, its existence will only be an existence for thought." 1 Thus it appears that that which exists for thought is only a possibility, and something more is required for actuality. But Kant immediately turns round and asserts that there is one actuality which is not something added to possi- bility or thought, but the presupposition of it. This is " the material of possibility," the positive being which we assume as the basis for further determination, and which we actually determine whenever we assert any one thing to the exclusion of another. Is there any value in this alteration of the form of the ontolo- gical argument, or has Kant merely changed the foot upon which his dogmatism is standing ? The answer is that it is one thing to argue from the finite determined as such to the infinite, and another thing to say that the finite cannot be con- ceived except through, and in relation to, the infinite. Or, to put it in another way, it is one thing to say that from my thought I can argue to a reality which is supposed to be ex- ternal to my thought and independent of it, and another thing to say that the distinction between my thought and reality cannot be made except by a consciousness which in a sense embraces both. Hence it was an obvious case of reasoning in a circle, when Wolff, who held that the inner life of the " thinking substance " was simply a consciousness of his own ideas, and that these ideas corresponded to objects only by the 1 R. I. 14 ; H. I. 375. IV. PRE-CKITICAL WRITINGS OF KANT. 115 external arrangement of a pre-established harmony, attempted to prove from his own ideas the existence of the Being who made this arrangement. For how could the monad, which ex hy^othesi is confined to itself, prove' from its own ideas the existence of a Being who connects these ideas with external realities ? If, however, the "consciousness of our own ideas as (, such.is possible only through the consciousness of objects which ) are not our ideas, then we shall have a right to say that the consciousness of self in distinction from the not-self presupposes a unity beyond that distinction. And this is the real meaning of Kant's assertion that the existence of God is presupposed in consciousness of self. i << So far, then, we may recognise that Kant's change of the ^°^°i "^^1 form of the ontological argument has a real and important spmomsm. meaning. Unfortunately, however, Kant's way of working out the true idea of the priority of the unity of being and thought, of objeqt and subject, to their difference is simply the old way of Descartes and Spinoza, which involves the negation of that difference and the dissolving of all finite being in the infinite. This is implied by Kant in the treatise we are examining, when he says that all limited existences are ipso facto contingent, and it is more directly expressed in his Essay upon Optimism, published four years afterwards. In that essay he adopts the argument of the Leibnizian Theodicy, that all positive reality is combined in God, and that a world of finite beings, if it was to exist at all, must have more or less negation mingled in each of its parts, and, therefore, must be vexed with conflict and evil. On this view the finite does, indeed, imply the infinite, but it has no ground for its existence in the infinite : in other words, the affirmative is presupposed hj the negative, but the negative does not in any sense flow from the affirmative. But, then, the principle " determination is negation " must be taken in the Spinozistic sense that the only real is the indeterminate: and the finite must be regarded as an illusory semblance. ° "' Summary o£ ft The result, then, of Kant's first treatise on metaphysic is to ^^„^^f """*'"'' 116 INTRODUCTION. CHAP. transform the "Wolffian philosophy by the assertion of real relations between substances, which are therefore regarded not as purely self-determined monads but as individual objects in one world, the changing phenomena of which are determined by their reciprocal action and reaction upon each other. Further, this action and reaction is carried back to certain repulsive and attractive forces, which belong to the substances of which the world is composed and determine their relations to each other. Finally, each of these substances is taken as in itself individual and exclusive, but at the same time as presupposing an absolute or universal substance in relation to which their exclusive individuality disappears. Thus Kant revives the old dilemma of Leibniz, that it is im- possible to be in earnest with the reality of the individual substances without denying their unity and the reality of the universal substance, or to be in earnest with the reality of the universal substance without reducing the individual to some- thing illusory and unreal. rejeotion"onhe The Special problem which naturally became prominent in philosophy. Kant's thought as he reflected upon this result was the problem of the connexion of thought and reality; and this problem itself opened up into two subordinate questions — the question whether, and how far, thought can go beyond itself to assert the reality of its object, and the question whether, and how far, the connexion of thought corresponds to, or differs from, the con- nexion of objects. Accordingly, it is with these questions that we find Kant engaged in a series of treatises published during the years 1762-3.1 These are : — a short paper on The False Sultilty of the four Syllogistic Figures; a longer treatise on The Sole Ground for a Demonstration of the Being of God; an essay, written for a prize offered by the Berlin Academy, On the Evi- dence of the Principles of Natural Theology and Morals ; and ' It has been proved by Dr. Benuo Erdmann that the four treatises were published in the order stated in the text. (Reflexionen Kant's, Introduotion to vol. II. p. 17 seq.) IV. PRE-CRITICAL WRITINGS OF KANT. 117 finally, an Attempt to Introduce the Conception of Negative Quantity into Philosophy. This series of writings, to which may be added the Breams of a Ghost-Seer illustrated hy the Breams of Metaphysic, published three years afterwards, naark a decided advance upon those we have already examined. They show that Kant had almost entirely shaken off the yoke of "Wolffian philosophy, and the last mentioned of them might be regarded even as a kind of declaration of war against it. They prove also that he was gradually approximating to the point of view of English Empiricism as represented by Locke, if he did not fully accept it. Hence it has been proposed to call this period of Kant's development the epoch of Critical Empiri- cism, in distinction from the earlier period of Eationalistic Dogmatism. If, however, we have given a true account of the results which Kant had reached during that first period, no such marked line can be drawn between them. The despairing renunciation of Eationalism, which shows itself in the " Dreams," is only the final result of a course of investigation which is already begun in the Bilucidatio Nova ; and the inter- vening treatises enable us to connect the latter with the former almost without a break. The essay on The False Subtilty of the Syllogistic Figures need S a"SgM ™* not detain us long. It takes the first step towards a discussion analytic, of the opposition between thought and reality by pointing out the limits of the movement of thought, according to the idea of that movement which was accepted by the Wolffian school, — an idea, we may add, which was never questioned by Kant himself, at least as regards the movement of pure thought. All the syllogistic processes are, he argues, reducible to analysis, though this is somewhat concealed by the artificial complexity of the theory of the logical figures. The first figure is the only one which fully expresses all that it implies, the only one, therefore, which exhibits the process of thought in its simpli- city; for the evidence of the other figures rests on the possi- Ijjlity of reducing them to the first by the conversion of one or 118 INTRODUCTION. chap. both of their premises. But this conversion should be regarded as a separate inference and not introduced to complicate the syllogistic forms. The sole principles of syllogism are these two : — Nota notae est nota rei ipsius, and Repugnans notae repugnat rei ipsi : and these are themselves only corollaries of the laws of identity and contradiction, which are the prin- ciples of affirmative and negative judgment respectively. Hence there is no ground for saying that reason, i.e., the faculty of reasoning, is different from understanding, the faculty of judging. Syllogism is just the activity of thought whereby a judgment is made complete, as judgment is the activity of thought whereby a conception is made distinct. The higher faculty of knowledge, which is characteristic of man, may, therefore, be described comprehensively as a faculty of judging or making his ideas distinct. The animals have no distinct conceptions or, in other words, make no judgments, and in this lies their inferiority. It has, indeed, been contended that the ox has a clear idea of the door of its stall, and can, therefore, use that idea as a means of giving distinctness to its conception of the stall : just as a man selects a particular attribute of an object, and makes it the predicate of a judgment concerning that object. But this is not the case. For it is one thing to have before the mind a clear image of that which is the attribute or mark of an object, and it is quite another thing to recognise it as the mark of that object, i.e., to separate the two ideas and refer them to each other, as in the judgment, "this door belongs to this stall." And the same may be said of distinction which has just been said of relation. It is one thing to distinguish objects, and it is quite another thing to know the distinction of objects. The latter is logical distinction and means the recognition that A is not B; i.e., it implies a negative judgment. The former is merely physical distinction, and it implies only that the animal that makes it is moved to different acts by different ideas. " We shall, therefore, be able to determine what constitutes the distinction between rational and irrational beings, if we are IV. PEB-CRITICAL WRITINGS OF KANT. 119 able to determine what the secret power is which makes judg- ment possible to us. My present opinion is that this power or capacity is nothing but the faculty of inner sense, i.e., the faculty which enables ns to make our own ideas the object of our thoughts." ^ It would seem as if Kant had already touched upon one of ne^o"ssity1f the main ideas used in his Transcendental Deduction of the Sonstrabit . - principles. Categories, when he recognised that the faculty of judgment is at the same time the faculty which enables us " to make our own ideas the objects of our thoughts," or to refer our thoughts to objects. But a passing suggestion is not a discovery : and though Kant speaks of the activity of judgment as that which turns a series of like, or unlike, presentations of sense into a knowledge of objects, it does not occur to him to suspect that there is anything more involved in that activity than mere analysis. On the other hand, he sees clearly that, if the operation of thought is merely analytic, it is absurd to suppose that by means of it we can develop all truth out of one funda- mental principle. " Those philosophers, who proceed as if there were no fundamental truths which are beyond demonstration except one, are as far from the truth as those who are ready to assume indemonstrable principles without sufficient warrant. Human knowledge is full of indemonstrable judgments." But if this be the case, then the complex ideas expressed in such judgments must, it would seem, be given independently of the activity of thought. Having thus reduced the process of thought to analysis, betocTud'Idin Kant goes on to enforce the lesson that it is impossible by that of aroi^e^tT" process to bridge over the gulf between thought and reality. This is the leading idea of his next essay on the Onli/ Possible Basis for, a Proof of the Being of God, in which, however, he does not, except in one point afterwards to be mentioned, get much beyond the ideas of the Bilucidatio Nova. As in the latter treatise, he urges that the analysis of our ideas ' K. I. 73 ; H. II. 68. 120 INTRODUCTION. CHAP. can never assure us of the reality of their objects. Being, or Existence, is no part of any conception, whicli may be ex- Lracted from it by analysis and used as its predicate. " Take any subject you please, say Julius Caesar. Gather out of the conception of him all his thinkable predicates, those of time and place not excepted, and you will soon understand that, though you have given him all these attributes, you have still left it undetermined, whether he exists or not." "In the com- plete determination of the possibility of a thing, no predicate can be left out which it would have, if it existed." " Where in our ordinary manner of speech, existence appears as a predicate, we must understand it not as a predicate of the thing itself, but of the thought of the thing. When, e.g., we say that the sea- unicorn (or narwhal) exists, but not the land-unicorn, this means only that the former is an empirical conception, a con- I ception of a thing that actually exists. In order, therefore, to show the truth of such a proposition, we have not to examine what is contained in the conception of the subject (in which we could find only predicates of its possibility), but we have to inquire into the origin of the conception. The question, in short, is whetB^we have seen the narwhal, or heard about it from those who have seen it. If, then, we were studying per- fect accuracy of language, it would be better for us to say — not, ' The sea-unicorn is an existent animal,' but, ' An existent marine animal has all the predicates which I unite in the con- ception of a unicorn.' " i Hence also, the Cartesian proof of the Being of God, which is based on the inclusion of being in the conception of God, must be rejected. fentfoaS ^^i^S ^^ ^ ^^pl^ idea, which we cannot explain by dissecting poiuwn. j|. .j^^^ g^jj^ simpler ideas ; but we may help towards a clearer understanding of it by means of the closely related idea of position. When used as the copula, the verb of being implies the relative position or assertion of something, i.e., the position or assertion of a predicate in relation to a subject. Nothin" is iR. I. 171-2; H. 11. 115-117. IV. PRE-CEITICAL WRITINGS OF KANT. 121 herein asserted as to the reality of the subject itself, which may be entirely a creation of imagination. But when the same verb is used as a predicate, it means the absolute position of the thing, i.e., its assertion simply in relation to itself. Or, to put it otherwise. Being does not supply a predicate for any subject, but rather a subject to which predicates may be attached. When, therefore, we ask for a proof of the being of God, we are not asking for a middle term by means of which we may show that the predicate of being is attached to God as a subject, but we are asking for a proof that something existent has all the predicates which are gathered into the idea of God. From these considerations it follows that all the usual Kant's ex- planation of explanations of the idea of being or existence must be rejected „{ re^f^^a^ " as inadequate, or even positively misleading. The definition po^^'^'^'^y- given by "Wolff, that it is the " complement of possibility," is inadequate ; for it does not tell us what is to be added to possibility in order to constitute reality. Baumgarten, one of Wolffs most eminent followers, explained that the possibility of a thing was its logical essence or definition, with all the properties deducible therefrom : while the " complement " necessary for reality consisted of all the accidental predicates which come to be added to it through its connexion with other things in the world. But this is erroneous, for we may deter- mine all the predicates of an object, whether necessary or accidental, without passing beyond its possibility. Nay, we may even say that, in order to be possible, an object must be completely and individually determined; e.g., every possible " man must be of a certain age, stature, figure, etc., and a man in whom any of these points are undetermined is impossible. Equally erroneous is the view of Crusius, that the determina- tions of time and place make the difference between possibility and reality. For, not to mention that this would involve the questionable principle that all that exists is limited by conditions of time and space, it is obvious that we can think of possible, as well as of actual, time and place. The true 122 INTRODUCTION. chap. distinction of the real from the possible is found, not in the matter or content of our conceptions, but in the way in which ithey have been formed. In the case of all things but God, (Kant in this essay maintains that the real is that which is given in experience and the possible is that which is not so given but merely thought. In the case of God, on the other hand, he repeats and illustrates at great length the same proof which we have already found in the Bilucidatio Nova, that God is the ultimate reality implied in all possibility. The only new point is the contrast which he draws between the real ground of all possibility, and the formal or logical ground of it which is found in the principles of identity and contradiction. Criticism The assertion that reality or existence is not a true of that explanation, predicate, and that a possible object may have all the attributes of a real one without being real, is one that will meet us again in the Critique of Pure Beason. It raises the whole question of the relation of thought and reality, and of the netture of the opposition between them. Here it is only necessary to point out that when Kant interprets existence by "position," he admits, though without seeing the effect of his admission, that existence must mean existence for a self, or as posited by a self. For if this be admitted, the possible and the actual cannot be absolutely opposed, as that which is posited by thought to that which is given independently of its activity. And as the position of an object for a self can only mean the determination of it in relation to the other objects, which constitute the one objective world that exists for that self, so absolute position cannot be regarded as essentially different from relative position. It is the lingering associa- tions of the individualistic point of view with which he started which makes Kant separate so absolutely between what the thing is and what it is for us, and again between what it is in itself and what it is in relation to other things. And the same almost ineradicable influence of his original IV. PRE-CBITIOAL WRITINGS OF KANT. 123 point of view also leads him to suppose the possibility of a complete, analytic determination of the conception of a thing, which yet leaves it open to us to consider whether or not it exists ; and to forget that every step in such determination is the assertion of a connexion of the thing with other things in the one intelligible world. The complete explanation of the possibility of a thing is, therefore, the same thing with the proof of its reality. The possible which can be opposed to the real is simply that which is determined for us only by a few relations, and which for that reason remains hypothetical, or merely possible. Hence, if our whole present consciousness of the world may be regarded as in a sense ideal or merely possible, it is only in so far as we recognise that that con- sciousness is in process of development and not because, simply as ideal, it is not real. So much it is necessary to say at present, though the full discussion of the subject must be reserved till we come to deal with the Critique of Pure Reason, in which the same opposition appears in a modified form. It has already been pointed out in relation to the Bilucidatio Kantthmksof God as the Nova that Kant himself was not altogether blind to the truth unityofreaiity " and possi- which is the necessary complement of his dualistic view of the and Though reilation of thought to being. Such a complementary idea appears, both there and again in this treatise, in Kant's version of the argument for the Being of God. For when Kant argues that there is an actuality implied in all possibility, a con- sciousness of a primary reality implied in the conception ' of anything as possible, he is putting a true thought into a somewhat obscure and inaccurate form. We cannot oppose the ideal to the real, that which is for us to that which is in itself, unless we assume that that which is in itself is also for us. We cannot be conscious of our ideas as our own in opposition to objects, except on the presupposition of an idea which is also objective. All such distinction supposes a relation of the elements opposed and therefore a unity beyond the distinction. In this sense, therefore, it is no mere " dogmatic slumber " that 124 INTRODUCTION. C'i^- makes Kant revive the outological argument. Unfortunately, however, in reviving it, he does not yet improve upon that form which it had with Descartes and Spinoza. Like them, he reaches the unity beyond difference merely by abstraction from the differences, and therefore he conceives- that unity merely as a " material of possibility," i.e., an affirmative reality which we limit or determine by negation, when we think of any particular object as possible. Now, as we have seen, the legitimate result of such a way of thinking is to merge all finite reality in the absolute substance. In other words, Kant has as yet found no escape from the dualism that abso- lutely separates thought and its object, except in a unity in which all distinction is entirely lost. At the same time he is so far from seeing that this is the necessary result of his logic, that he goes on to argue that the absolute Being must be conceived as a spirit endowed with absolute power, absolute wisdom, and absolute goodness. In fact, having once got his absolute reality, he drapes it in all the '' old clothes " of orthodoxy, without any consciousness of the opposition between the Spinozistic and the Christian idea of God. theide/tiat'* While, howcver, this is true, it is not the whole truth. God unites in . ^ ., . . . . , ^^ Himself au Already, m the treatise we are considering, Kant takes one affirmative predicates, important step towards the correction of the Spinozistic idea of the ultimate unity of Being and Knowing, when he lays down the principle, that though God is to be conceived as the ens realissimum, who is at once the highest reality and the ground of all other reality, he is not to be con- ceived as embracing all reality in himself. For there are, Kant argues, realities which it is impossible to combine in one subject, e.g., extension and thought. " It is vain to try to evade this conclusion by saying that the qualities excluded are not true realities. The impulse of a moving body and the force which it holds together are undoubtedly positive: nor can the feeling of pain be regarded as a mere privation. The attempt to explain away the opposition of positive IV. PRE-CRITICAL WRITINGS OF KANT. 125 realities is due to a confusion. It is contended that two realities cannot be opposed to each other because, as they are both true affirmatives, they cannot be inconsistent as predi- cates of one subject. But though I admit that there is no logical contradiction between two positives, this does not exclude a real repugnance or opposition between them. Such repugnance on the contrary is actually found wherever one thing, regarded as a cause, annihilates the effect of something else. Thus the moving force of a body in one direction and an equal tendency to move in the other direction are not in con- tradiction : nay, they may actually exist in the same body at the same time. But the one annihilates the real effect of the other ; and whereas each severally would have produced an actual motion, the effect of both together is zero : in other words, the consequence of two opposite moving forces is rest. But this shows that real opposition is different from logical contradiction ; for nothing is possible which implies a contra- diction. Now, in the most real of beings there can be no such real repugnance or opposition of attributes, the consequence of which would be privation or want ; and as there would be such an opposition in Him if all realities were brought together in Him as attributes, we are forced to conclude that, though all realities must be referred to Him as their cause, some of them must be regarded only as effects of his action and not as attributes of his being." ^ What is here suggested, it will be observed, is not a concep- Distinction of logical and tion of the ' polarity of opposites, or of the necessary relation of real negation, affirmation and negation. All that Kant says is that positives may be so opposed as to produce a negative result. In other words, he does not deny the possibility of a negation, which is nothing but negation, but he maintains that that is not the only form of negation. But to one with Kant's generalising tendency, the assertion that there is a negation which implies position or affirmation could not be long separated from the • 1 E. I. 189 ; H. II. 129. 126 INTRODUCTION. chap. assertion that there is a position or affirmation which implies negation. By the side of logical affirmation and negation, which are supposed absolutely to exclude each other, Kant is, therefore, led to erect two new species, the position which implies negation, and the negation which implies position. Or to put it in a point of view which shows more clearly the effect of this great advance of thought, alongside of the analytic process of thought which moves by identity and contradiction, and which, therefore, cannot by any possibility pass beyond the limits of the conception with which it starts, Kant now places a synthetic movement which proceeds from the assertion of one thing to the negation of another, and through that to the assertion of a third. In tliis way Kant evolves the great dis- tinction of analytic and synthetic judgment, which has such J important effects in his subsequent philosophy. What is veal I* is in the Essay towards the Introduction of the Idea of nega ion . jsfQg/^n^g Quantity into Philosophy that Kant for the first time definitely expresses this important distinction — a conception which probably, as Paulsen suggests, arose in his mind in connexion with his difficulty about the idea of God, but when once suggested, it found ready support and illustration in that view of matter as the unity of opposite forces to which he had already been led by Kewton. Kant begins by pointing out that, according to the law of logical opposition, the opposite of any predicate is its mere negative, but that in the mathematical determination of quantity, the opposite of + A is —A, and pure negation is only reached through their union, so that + A - A = 0. In the former sense, a union of opposites. is an impossibility {nihil negativum), in the latter it is a simple privation or zero {nihil privativum). We should, therefore, be ■ careful to distinguish between a negative quantity and the negation of quantity : for while the latter removes quantity and puts nothing in its place, the former is simply the opposite of the quantity that is taken as positive. Hence it is often indifferent which of two quantities we call negative and which we call positive : or IV. PRE-CRITICAL WRITINGS OF KANT. 127 rather, we should say that both taken abstractly are positive but that, when put together, they constitute a real opposition in which either member may be taken as positive and the other as negative. Thus impenetrability (= repulsion) may be described as negative attraction, or attraction as negative impenetrability, the one force being as positive as the other. Or to take an example from mind, attention may be repre- sented as negative abstraction or abstraction as negative attention, since it requires the same positive effort to exclude from the mind everything but one object and to concentrate it. upon that object : indeed the one is but the necessary correla- tive of the other. These considerations open up a new vein of reflexion, for Eeai position = negation of they suggest that the world may he regarded as the theatre of -'n opposite a conflict of opposite forces, in which the absence of a mani- festation of activity in any one direction is the indication, not of the absence of any tendency to act, but of the equipoise of opposite tendencies. Thus every piece of matter, the elements of which are at rest as regards each other, is a coherent unity only as the result of the equilibrium of the forces by which its elements repel and attract each other ; and in our moral experience inactivity is, or may be, the result of a tension between the consciousness of duty and the force of inclination. Conversely, when activity in any one direction begins, we are often obliged to recognise, not simply that one movement comes in the place of another that has ceased, but that the force which was previously keeping it back has been neutralised by an opposite force. Thus when a resting body begins to move, ■ it is because the equilibrium of forces acting upon it is dis- turbed, and its so-called inertia is overcome by a greater force. And, in like manner, when I begin to think of anything, it is not merely that other objects cease to occupy me, but that they are driven out by the greater power of the new object over the mind. So one desire does not simply come into the- mind in ;^oom of another, but the former yields because it is driven 128 INTRODUCTION. chap. out by what has been called " the expulsive power of a new affection." The world as These thoughts Kant applies not onlv to the different forces a unity of o ^ ^ *' opposites. acting upon an individual object, but to all forces actual and potential in the world as a whole. For as every manifestation of force may be regarded as the locking up of another equal and opposite force (so that to make one force actual is to make an equal and opposite force potential), it follows that, as Leibniz has maintained, the sum of forces — meaning by that the sum of actual and potential forces — is constant. And indeed that sum, according to the same principles, is always zero, if opposite forces be taken .from each other. Hence also, if we conceive the Supreme Being as a Being in whom there is no real opposition of elements, and therefore no such law of compensatory reaction, we must suppose the nature of his activity to be altogether different from any activity to be seen in the natural world either outward or inward. movlmentof From this vicw of the real opposition Kant finally derives Thought and . j , • ■ n t • t , synthetic an important prmciple, which he extends not only to the real movement of ** Knowledge, negation which is the result of an equilibrium of opposites, but also to real position which is the result of the disturbing of such equilibrium. This principle is that such negation and such position are altogether different from all merely logical negations or positions, which are simply the analytic develop- ment of given premises. In the latter we cannot move from positive to negative or from negative to positive; nor again can we move from one position to another which is different from it. In the former on the contrary we can and must make such a transition. There is, therefore, a marked contrast between the logical relations of ideas and the real relations of things, and we must go beyond the former in order to under- stand the latter. " I understand, e.g., how, when I assert that God is infinite, I am forced to deny that he is mortal : for his mortality would contradict his infinity. But how it is that by the motion of one body the motion of another is stopped. IV. PRE-CRITICAL WRITINGS OF KANT. 129 is quite another question. For we cannot say that the motion of one body is the contradictory or logical negation of the motion of another." And there is a parallel difficulty in the case of logical and real position. If I look at things in their logical aspect, I see that by the mere analysis of conceptions, "I can find, e.g., in. composition a ground for the assertion of divisibility, in necessity a ground for the assertion of un- changeableness, in infinity a ground for the assertion of omni- science, etc. In all these cases I clearly see the connexion of reason and consequent, for the consequent is identical with a part of the conception of the reason. But how one thing can follow from another when it is not connected with it according to the rule of identity, that is the point which I could very much wish some one to make intelligible to me." The real problem of knowledge thus escapes from the domain of Logic ; for what is wanted for knowledge is not to explain how a conception i remains identical with itself and repels its negative, but how, I one thing being posited, the position or negation of something else is the consequence. Kant ends with these words, " I have carefully considered the nature of our knowledge as it is expressed in judgments in relation to reasons and consequents, and I shall shortly take an opportunity to communicate in detail the result of my inquiries. But the sum and substance of what I have to say is, that the relation of a real reason to its positive or negative consequent cannot le expressed iy a judgment hut only iy a conception. We may, no doubt, sometimes reduce such a conception by analysis to simpler conceptions of real reasons, but in the end all our knowledge of this relation must terminate in simple and irreducible conceptions of real reasons or causesjthe relation of which to their consequents cannot be further explained."^ The meaning of this obviously is that reason and consequent are given in connexion with each other, and we must take them as they are given. The formal laws of thought, as they show themselves in the act of judgment by ♦., iR. I. 158-160; H. II. 103-6. 'vol. I. I 130 INTRODUCTION. chap. which we analyse the content of our conceptions, do not enable us to explain any real or causal connexion of things, whether negative or positive. We are obliged, therefore, to fall back on an original unity of the conceptions themselves, i.e., on a nexus in the matter of thought as it is given in experience, which it is impossible either to expla,in or to explain away, following™^ III the concluding words of this essay Kant seems to Reasons for a approximate so closely to the ideas and even to the language negative answer. of Humc, that it is difficult to regard the coincidence as merely accidental. Kant seems to be insisting on the very point on which Hume dwelt with such emphasis, viz., that there is no link of necessary relation between the phenomena which we regard as cause and effect. On consideration, however, we see that, though there is a verbal parallelism, the premises from which the two writers start and the conclusions to which they are pointing are quite different. Hume was the interpreter of a philosophy the first principle of which was that all that is true in our ideas must be traced back to that which is given to the passive mind, and that all merely subjective additions to the facts presented must be fictitious and illusory. Hence, when he had shown that in the impressions or immediate experiences of the outer and the inner life there is no trace of that necessary connexion of antecedent and consequent, which is supposed to be involved in the idea of causality, he conceived himself at once entitled to treat such necessity as an iLle