mm iii ( m ^^^^ OF pmc^ I n. 1/ History of Philosophy ALFRED WEBER PROFESSOR IN THE UNIVERSITY OF 8TRASBURG ^iitt)oti^eti ^Translation BY FRANK THILLY, A.M., Ph.D. PROFESSOR OF PHILOSOPHY IX THE UNIVERSITY OF MISSOURI FROM THE FIFTH FRENCH EDITION NEW YORK CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS 1898 \All rights reserved] Copyright, 1896, By Charles Scribner's Sons. ^nibcrsitg i3rfss: John Wilson and Son, Cambridge, U. S A. TRANSLATOR'S PREFACE There is, in my opinion, no book so admirably fitted for acquainting the student with the development of thought as the able work of Professor Weber of the University of Strasburg. Tlie author combines in his person the best elements of French and German scholarship. His knowl- edge of the sul)jcct is tliorough and extensive, his judgment sound, his manner of expression simple, clear, and precise. His expositions remind one vividly of Kuno Fischer's fas- cinating presentation of philosophical teachings. They reproduce the essential thoughts of the great masters in language which is singularly free from obscurities and un- defined technical terms. The different systems are not mechanically joined together like so many dominos; the history of philosophy is not conceived as an aggregate of isolated, disconnected theories, but as an evolution, as a more or less logical development, as a process from the simple to tlie complex. It is not a comedy of errors, a Sisyphus labor, a series of mighty efforts and corresponding failures, but a gradual advance towards truth. There are differences and contradictions, it is true, and many devia- tions from the ideal straight line which the historian, overlooking the entire course of development, may draw between the beginning and the end. Philosophy often follows false paths and loses itself in blind alle5^s. Yet this does not mean that it is a wild-goose chase. iv PREFACE We have long wanted a text-book of the history of phi- losophy that covers the whole field, and presents the subject in a manner suited to the needs of the beginner. Zeller's admiral^le compendium of Greek philosophy and Falcken- berg's History of Modern Philosophy deal with special periods. Windelband's voluminous History of Philosoi^hy^ with its arbitrary divisions and unfortunate method of cut- ting up a system into parts and discussing these separately, under entirely different heads, hopelessly confuses the stu- dent. Besides, its account of philosophy since the days of Kant — a period in which our age is especially interested — is wholly inadequate. Professor Weber's work is the most serviceable manual thus far published. It begins as simply as the history of philosophy itself, and gradually introduces the reader to the complex problems of modern thought, to which it devotes more than one-half of its entire space. The portions dealing with Kant and his successors are particularly admirable. The clear and comprehensive ex- position of the Hegelian philosophy will greatly assist the student in his endeavors to understand that much abused system. And the modern theory of evolution, which has revolutionized the thought of our century, and which is barely mentioned by Falckenberg and Windelband, surely deserves the attention and criticism it here receives. This translation is made from the fifth French edition (1892), and includes a number of changes and additions which the author kindly communicated to me in manu- script. I have taken pains to render the original into clear and sim[)le English, and to increase the usefulness of the })ook wherever it seemed possible and proper to do so, al- ways keeping in mind tlie demands of the readers for Avhom tlie woik is lilt ended. All material inserted by me is PREFACE V placed in square brackets. I have increased tlie bibliog- raphy (1) by adding the titles of standard American, Eng- lish, German, French, and Italian works ; (2) by mentioning translations of foreign books referred to in the text and notes ; (3) by giving the names of important philosoph- ical journals published in this country and abroad ; (4) by placing at the end of the volume a list of the best modern works on logic, epistemology, psychology, anthropology, etliics, aesthetics, the philosophy of histor}^, the philosophy of religion, jurisprudence, politics, etc. I have also pre- pared an index. FRANK TIIILLT. University of Missouri, May, 1896. CONTENTS INTRODUCTION Page § 1. Philosophy, Metaphysics, and Science 1 § 2. Division 4 § 3. Sources 6 I. GREEK PHILOSOPHY f ir^t ^crioti THE AGE OF METAPHYSICS PROPER, OR PHILOSOPHY OF NATURE (D. c. 600-400) § 4. The Origin of Greek Philosophy 17 § 5. The School of Miletus. Thales, AnaximandePv, Anaximenes 21 § G. The Problem of Becoming 24 A. The Negation of Becoming § 7. Eleatic Philosophy. Xenophanes, Parmenides, Melissus, Zeno, Gorgias 24 B. The Apotheosis of Becoming § 8. PIeraclitus . ,..,,. 33 viii CONTENTS C. The Explanation of Becoming Page § U. TllK I'VUIACiOKEAN Sl'ECULATlON 37 § 10. Empedocles 44 § 11. Anaxagokas 48 § 12. Diogenes of Apollonia, Arciielaus, Leucippus, De- mocuitus ...... 53 THE AGE OF CRITICISM, OR THILOSOPHY OF MIND § 13. Protagoras 59 § 14. Socrates ... (33 § 15. Aristii'pus and Hedonism. — Antisthenes and Cyni- cism. — Euclides and the School of Megara . 71 A. The Negation of flatter. — TJie Ajjotheosis of T/t ought § IG. Plato 75 (1) The Idea 81 (2) Nature 91 (3) The Highest Good 98 § 17. Aristotle 104 (1) First Philosophy 108 (2) Second Philosophy, or the Philosophy of Nature 118 B, The Apotheosis of flatter. — The Negation of the Thought' Substance § 18. Epicurus 134 C. The Apotheosis of Will §10. Stoicism 140 §20. The Sceptical Reaction. — Pyrrhonism .... 148 § 21. Academic Scepticism 150 CONTENTS ix Paob § 22. Sensationalistic Scepticism 152 § 23. The Scientific Movement ......... 159 § 24. Eclecticism 162 § 25. Plotinus and Neo-Platonism 167 § 26. The Last Neo-Platonic Polytheists. — Porphyry, Jamblichus, Proclus 179 II. PHILOSOPHY OF THE MIDDLE AGES fit^t ^ttm THE REIGN OF PLATONIC-CHRISTIAN THEOLOGY § 27. Christian Platonism 185 § 28. St. Augustine 188 § 29. The Death Struggles of the Roman World. — Barbarism. — The First Symptoms of a New Philosophy 198 § 30. Scholasticism 201 § 31. Scotus Erigena 204 § 32. St. Anselmus 210 § 33. Realism and Nominalism 219 § 34. Abelard 222 § 35. Hugo of St. Victor 227 § 36. The Progress of Free Thought 230 THE REIGN OF PERIPATETIC SCHOLASTICISM A. Semi-ReaUstiG Peri^Kiteticism § 37. Growing Influence of the Philosophy of Aristotle 235 § 38. The Peripatetics of the Thirteenth Century . 239 § 39. St. Thomas of Aquin 241 § 40. Duns Scotus ,.. oo .... 246 CONTENTS B. NominalhtJc Ferlpateticism Pagh §41. The Reappearaxce of Nominalism. — Durand, Oc- cam, BURIDAN, D'AlLLY 252 §42. The Downfall of Scholasticism. — The Revival OF THE Interest in Nature and Experimental Science. — Roger Bacon. — Mysticism .... 256 § 43. The Revival of Letters 2(31 §44. Neo-Platonism. — Theosophy. — Magic 265 § 45. Aristotle versus Aristotle, or the Liberal Peri- patetics. — Stoics. — Epicureans. — Sceptics . 267 § 46. The Religious Reform 274 § 47. Scholasticism and Theosophy in the Protestant Countries. — Jacob B<)hme 277 § 48. The Scientific Movement 281 III. MODERN PHILOSOPHY ftm fetich THE AGE OF INDEPENDENT METAPHYSICS (From Bruno to Locke .and Kant) § 40. Giordano Bruno 286 § 50. Tommaso Campanella 291 § 51. Francis Bacon 295 § 52. Thomas IIobbes 300 § 53. Descartes 305 § 54. The Cartesian School 317 § 55. Spinoza 303 I. Definitions 325 IT. Deductions 303 (1) Theory of Substance 326 (2) Theohy of Attributes 329 (;^) Theoky of Modes 334 § 56, Leibniz 343 CONTENTS Xi THE AGE OF CRITICISM Page § 57. JoHx Locke 370 § 58. Berkeley 391 § 59. CONDILLAC 399 § 60. The Progress of Materialism 404 § 61. David Hume 417 § 62. Immanuel Kant 434 I. Critique of Pure Reason 437 II. Critique of Practical Reason 462 III. Critique of Judgment 468 § 63. Kant and German Idealism 473 § 64. Fichte 481 § 65. Schelling 487 § 66. Hegel 496 I. Logic, or Genealogy of Pure Concepts . 501 II. Philosophy of Nature 510 III. Philosophy of Mind 513 § 67. Herbart 535 § 68. Schopenhauer 544 § 69. Darwin and Contemporary Monism 560 § 70. Positivism and Neo-Criticism 573 § 71. Conclusion 587 Bibliography 605 Index 613 HISTORY OF PHILOSOPHY INTRODUCTION § 1. Philosophy, Metaphysics, and Science Philosophy is the search for a comprehensive view of nature, an attempt at a universal explanation of things. It is both the summary of the sciences and their completion ; both general science and a specialty distinguished from science proper ; and, like its elder sisters, religion and poe- try, forms a separate branch among the manifestations of the human mind. The different sciences have special groups of facts for their subject-matter, and seek to discover the causes of these phenomena, or to formulate the laws according to which they are produced. In philosophy, on the other hand, the human mind endeavors to rise beyond such groups and their particular laws, and to explain the world as a whole, or the universal fact or j[)hcnomenon^ by the cause of the causes, or the first cause. In other words, it attempts to answer the question. Why does this world exist, and how does it happen to be what it is?^ 1 As a search for the first cause, philosophy is defined, more par- ticularly, as metaphysics, ontology, or speculative philosophy. The phil- osophy which abandons this search, and contents itseK with being scientific synthesis, is called positive philosophy or positivism. Posi- tivism may simply be grounded upon the historical fact that systems constantly contradict each other, in which case it rests on a purely empirical basis, or it may be based upon the rational analysis of the. human understanding. In the former case, it is scepticism, in the latter, criticism. Opposed to scepticism we have dogmatism, that is, the naive or deliberate belief in the ability of the human mind to 1 2 INTRODUCTION But tliougli pliilosophy lias its own subject-matter and a separate sphere of its own, it is none the less connected with positive science by the closest of ties; and science cannot break these bonds without danger to itself. It is from the positive sciences, and particularly from psychol- ogy and allied branches, that philosophy derives its methods and the matter for its systems. The sciences, without j)hil- ' osophy, are an aggregate without unity, a body without a soul; philosophy, without the sciences, is a soul without a body, differing in nothing from poetry and its dreams. Science is the indispensable foundation and the matter, as reach an objective knowledge of things and their first cause. Ration- alism claims to arrive at this knowledge by a priori reasoning ; em- piricism assumes no other method than observation and induction, or a posteriori reasoning. Pure, or a priori, speculation is the method pre- ferred by idealism, which regards thought as the original fact, prior and superior to all reality. Empiricism, on the contrary, is based upon the view that thought, far from being the first cause, is derived from a pre-existing reality ; that is, upon realism in the modern sense of the word. (See also § 83.) When the action of the first cause is considered unconscious and involuntary, as distinguished from teleo- logical (or mnking ioT an end), realism becomes materialism and mech- anism. Idealism in turn becomes spiritualism when it personifies the first cause, and regards it, not merely as an idea that realizes itself, but also as a being that hovers above things {supranaturalism, transcen- dentalism) and governs them according to its free-will (theism), or by means of unchangeable laws (deism) ; this is the dualism of mind and matter, of creator and nature, as opposed to pantheism, naturalism, or monism. Tanf heism, naturalism, or monism identifies the idea of cause with the concept of substance, and considers the first cause as the innermost sulxstance of things (immanency of God), and the totality of its modes or phenomena, the universe, as a living unity (monism), as one and the same collective being governed according to the laws which follow from its own nature (naturalism). Monism is either absolute or plural, according as it considers the cosmic substance as an absolute unity, or as a collection of irreducible unities ; it is atomism or df/namism, according as those unities are regarded as infinitely small *\\'l('nsioiis ((itows), or as absolutely unextended centres of force (dy7ia- mill IS or mo))ads). PHILOSOPHY, METAPHYSICS, AND SCIENCE 3 it were, of philosophy ; it is, to use an Aristotelian phrase, potential philosophy. Philosophy, in turn, is science in actu^ the most exalted function of the scholar, the supreme satisfaction of the scientific spirit and its natural tendency to comprehend everything into a unity. Philosophy and science are intimately related, not only in essence and in interests, but also as to their origin and destiny. Animated by the same all-powerful instinct to discern the causes of things — reriim cognoscere causas — and to comprehend them into the unity of a first cause, the human mind no sooner reaches certain elementary truths in physics, mathematics, and morals, than it hastens to synthesize them, to form them into universal theories, into ontological and cosmological systems, i. e. to philoso- pliize, to make metaphysics. It makes up for its ignorance of reality either by means of the imagination, or by that wonderful instinct of childhood and of genius which divines the truth without searching for it. This accounts for the aprioristic, idealistic, and fantastic character of the philoso- phy of the ancients, as well as for its incomparable grandeur. In proportion as our stock of positive knowledge is in- creased, as scientific labor is divided and consequently de- veloped, philosophy becomes more and more differentiated from poetry; its methods are recognized, its theories gain in depth what the sciences acquire in scope. Every scientific movement gives rise to a philosophical movement ; every new philosophy is a stimulus to science. Though this bond of union seems to have been ruptured during the Middle Ages, the breach is but an apparent one. Whatever hostil- ity or indifference is manifested towards science, comes from the official philosophy of the School ; it is never found among the independent philosophers, be they Christians, Jews, or Arabians. There may be as much opposition between sci- ence and a certain philosophy in the nineteenth century as there was in the times of Roger Bacon and Lord Verulam. 4 INTRODUCTION True science and true philosophy have always been in perfect {iccord, and thougli there may be a semblance of rivalry, their relations are to-day as harmonious as they can be.^ § 2. Division To the Ionian Greeks belongs the honor of having crea- ted ^ European philosophy; to the Neo-Latins and the Ger- mans, that of having given to it its modern development. Hence tliere are, in the history to be outlined by us, two great and wliolly distinct epochs, whicli are connected by tlie Middle Ages (period of transition). 1 [On the nature and import of philosophy, and its relation to other sciences, consult Ladd, Introduction to Pliilosophy, New York, 18!)1 ; Volkelt, Vortrage zur EinfUhrung in die Philosoplde der Gegen- warf, ^Munich, 1892; Paulsen, Einleitung in die Philosophie, 3d ed., l^erlin, 1895; English translation by Frank Tliilly, New York, 1895. -Tr.] 2 By this word we do not mean to imply the absolute originality of Hellenic philosophy. The influence exercised upon its development by the Orient cannot be doubted. There is no trace of philosophy, properly so called, among the Greeks before they come in contact with Egypt, that is, before the reign of Psammetichus, who admits them into the country. Moreover, the fathers of Greek philosophy are all Tonians ; from Asia Minor philosophy was imported, first into Italy, and at a comparatively recent period into Athens, that is, into Greece proper. But what is most important, we find in Ionian phil- osophy, and that too at its very outset, conceptions the boldness of which is in marked contrast with the comparative timidity of Attic philosophy, — conceptions which pre-suppose along line of intellectual development. The influence of Egyptian and Chaldean science, which is, moreover, attested by Herodotus, may be compared to that exer- cised by the Arabian schools upon the development of Christian thought in the Middle Ages. It has been exaggerated by Roth (Ge- scJdchte unserer ahejulldndischen Philo^opMe, vol. I., 1846, 1862; vol. II., 1858) and unjustly denied by Zeller {Die Philosoplde der Griechen, 5th ed. 1892, vol. I. ; English translation by Sarah AUeyne). Concerning the relation of Pytliagoreanism and Platonism to Indian and Iranian speculation, and the part played by Babylon as the centre of intellec- tual exchange between the Orient and the Occident, see § 9. DIVISION 5 I. In the development of Greek philosophy, we have two separate periods, — a period of spontaneous creation, and one of sceptical reflection and reproduction. 1. The problem which dominates the former is the problem of the origin of things : the problem of hecommg. Among the Ionian^, this philosophy assumes the form of materialistic pantheism ; among the Italian philosophers, who are influenced by the Doric spirjL it is essentially t spiritualistic pantheism. The systems produced by these two schools contain in germ all the doctrines of the future, especially the monistic and atomistic hypotheses, the twoj poles of modern scientific speculation. — From Thales to Protagoras, or from 600 to 440 B.C. 2. The age of critical reflection is inaugurated by the irdvTcov /jLerpov avOpwiro^ of the Sophists. This period evolves the important truth, foreshadowed by Zeno, Par- menides, and Anaxagoras, that the human understanding is a coefficient in the production of the phenomenon. To the problems of nature are added the problems of the soul ; to the cosmological questions, logical and critical questions ; to the speculations on the essence of things, investigations concerning the criterion of truth and the end of life. Greek philosophy reaches its highest development in Plato, as far as depth is concerned ; in Aristotle and in the sci- ence of Alexandria, as regards analysis and the extent of its inquiries. II. Scientific progress, and consequently speculation, was arrested by the invasion of the Northern races. The pliilosophical spirit was extinguished for want of something to nourish it. Ten centuries of uninterrupted labor were followed by ten centuries of sleep, — a sleep that was deep at first, and then broken by bright dreams of the past (Plato and Aristotle) and forecasts of the future. Although the logic of history is less transparent during the middle ages than before and after this period of transition, we J 6 INTRODUCTION notice t^yo epoclis tlnit run parallel with those of Attic philosopli} : one, Platonic, realistic, turned towards the past (from St. Augustine to St. iVnsebn), the other, Peri- patetic, nominalistic, big with the future. III. Modern pliilosophy dates from the scientific and literary revival in the iifteenth century. Its history, like that of Greek speculation, presents, — 1. A period of expansion and ontological synthesis (Bruno, Descartes, Spinoza, Leibniz), and, 2. A period of critical reflection and anal3^sis (essays concerning the human understanding : Locke, Hume, Kant, and his successors). § 3. Sources The principal sources for the history of philosophy are : For pre-Socratic speculation : Plato and Aristotle.^ For Socrates: Xenophon^ and Plato, particularly the Apology^ the Crito^ and the Phcedo. For Plato : the Bcjnihlic, the Timceits^ the Sy7nposhmi, the Fhcechus^ the Thecetetus^ the Gorgias, the Protagoras.^ For Aristotle : the Metaphysics^ the Logic, the Ethics, the Physics, the Psychology, the Politics ; the commentators of Aristotle, especially Simplicius.* 1 Especially the first book of the Metapliysics (see § 17, first note), which is a historical summary of philosophy from Thales to Aristotle. The fragments of the pre-Socratic authors have been collected by Mullach, Fmymenta j:>/ri7. grcec. ante Socratem, 3 vols., Paris, 18(30 [also by Ritter and Preller (mentioned on page 8). English trans- lations in Burnet's Early Greek PJdIosophy (page 8), and of Heraclitus, in Patrick's Heraclitus on Nature. For translations of classical writers, consult BoJm*s Classical Library. — Tr.], 2 Memorabilia Socratis recens. J. G. Schneider, Oxf., 1813. « [See § IG, note 2. — Tk.] * Comment, in Arist. pJnjsicorum libros, ed. by Hermann Diels, Berlin, 1882 ; Comment, in libros de anlma, ed. by M. Hayduck, Berlin, 1882. SOURCES 7 For the post-Aristotelian schools and Greek philosophy in general : Lucretius, ^ Cicero,^ Seneca,^ Plutarch,* Sextus Empiricus,^ Diogenes Laertius,^ Clement of Alexandria,*^ Origen,^ Hippolytus,^ Eusebius,!*^ Plotinus,^! Porphyiy,!^ 1 Lucretii Can de rerum nalura libb. C. Lachmann rec. et illustr., Berlin, 1850 If. [edited also by Bernays, Munro, and others]. 2 The De divinatione et defato, the De natura deorum, the De offi- ciis, the Dejinibus, the Tusculance disputationeSy and the Academica; Opera omnia, ed. Le Clerc, Bouillet, Lemaire, 17 vols., Paris, 1827-32 ; Opera pJiilosophica, ed. Goerenz, 3 vols., Leipsic, 1809-1813 ; Ciceronis historia philosophke antiquce, ex omnibus illius scriptis collegit F. Gedike, Berlin, 1782, 1801, 1814. 3 Opera quae extant c. not. et comment, varior., 3 vols., Amsterdam, 1G72. ■* De physicis philosophorum decretis libb., ed. Beck, Leipsic, 1777; Scripta moralia, 6 vols., Leipsic, 1820 ; Opera omnia graece et latine ed. Reiske, 12 vols., Leipsic, 1774-82. ^ Sexti Empirici opera {livppoiveitov vnorvnoicrecju libb. III. ; Adver- sus matliematicos libb. XL) graec. et lat. ed. Fabricius, Leipsic, 1718 and 1842 ; ed. Emm. Bekker, Berlin, 1842. ^ Diogenis Laertii de vitis, dogmalibus et apophthegmatibus clarorum philosophorum libb. X. graece et latine ed. Hiibner, 2 vols., Leipsic, 1828, 1831 ; D. L. 1. X. ex Italicis codicibus nunc primum excussis recensuit C. Gabr. Cobet, Paris, 1850. Diogenes Laertius flourished about 230 of our era. ■^ Clementis Alexandrini opera, Lei^^sic, 1830-34 (Ao'yos TrporpenTiKos npos''EX\7]vas', IlaL8aycoy6s ', SrptojuarcTs). 8 De principiis gr. ed. c. interpret, lat. Rufini, et annot. instruxit ed. R. Redepenning, Leipsic, 1836 ; Contra Celsum libb. ed. Spencer, Cam- bridge, 1671 ; Origenis opera omnia quae graece vel latine tantum ex- stant et ejus nomine circumferuntur, ed. C. et C. V. Delarue, denuo recens. emend, castig. C. H. E. Lommatzsch, 25 vols., Berlin, 1831-48. ^ S. Hippolyti refutationis omnium hceresium libror. X. quae super- sunt graece et latine ed. Duncker et Schneidewin, Gott. 1856-59. The first book, known by the title (j)iXoao(l)ovp.€va, was for a long time attributed to Origen ; booko IV.-X., which were discovered in Greece in 1842, were first published by Emm. Miller, Oxford, 1851, under the title Origenis philosopkumena, etc. ^•^ Eusebii Pamph. Prceparatio evangelica, ed. Heinichen, Leipsic, 1812. 11 See § 25. 8 INTRODUCTION Proclus,^ Eunapius,2 Stobseus,^ Photius,* Suidas,^ and mod- ern historical works.^ 1 See § 25. 2 Eunapii Sard. Vit<^ jMlosopliorum et soj)histarum, ed. Boissonade, Paris, 1849. 8 Stobaei Eclogarum physicarum et etldcarum libb. grsece et latine ed. Heeren, 2 vols., Gott. 1791, 1801 (out of print) ; id. ed. Meineke, 2 vols., Leipsic, 18G0, 18(34 ; Stobsei Fluiilegium, ed. Th. Gaisford, 4 vols., Oxford, 1822 ; Leipsic, 1823 ; Meineke, 4 vols., Leipsic, 1855-57. * Myriohihlion, ed. PIdscliel, Augsbui-g, 1801. Tbe patriarch Pho- tius flourished in the 9th century. 5 Lexicon of Suidas, ed. Gaisford, London, 1834 ; Bernhardi, 2 vols., Halle, 1834. Suidas flourished about 1000. ^ Especially: [MuUach, Fragmenta phllosopliorumG7xecorum,Z vols., 1860-1881; Diels, Doxograplii Grceci, Berlin, 1879] ; Ritter and Preller, Historia phUosophice Graeco-Romance ex fontium locis contexta [7th ed., Schultess and AVelhnann, Gotha, 1888] ; Ritter, Geschichte der Philo- sophie alter Zeit, Berlin, 1829 ; Brandis, HandbucJi der Geschichte der griechisch-rbinischen Philosophie, 3 vols., Berlin, 1835-1860 ; same author, Geschichte der EntwicJcelungen der gr. Philosophie, etc., 2 vols., 1862-64 ; Koth, Geschichte unserer ahendlandischen Philosophie, 2 vols., Mannheim^ 1848-58 ; Laforet, Histoire de la jjhilosophie ancienne, 2 vols., Brussels, 1867; Ed. Zeller, Die Philosophie der Griechen in ihrer geschichtlichen Entwickelung [(five editions since 1844), 5th ed. begun in 1892, 3 pts. in 5 vols., Leipsic (Engl, transl. of all but part dealing with Ai'istotle and elder Peripatetics, by S. F. Alleyne and O. J. Reichel, London and New York, 1876-1883. Same author's smaller work, Grundriss der Geschichte der griechischen Philosophie, 4th ed., Leipsic, 1893 ; Engl. transl. by S. F. Alleyne and Evelyn Abbot, New York, 1890. — Tr.]. The following may also be consulted with profit : Grote, History of Greece, 6th ed., 10 vols., London, 1888 ; the same author, Plato and the other Companions of Socrates, 5th ed., London, 1888 ; [same author, Aristotle, 2 vols., 2d ed., 1879; Schwegler, Geschichte der griechischen Philosophie, 3d ed. Tubingen, 1886; Ferrier, Lectures on Greek Philoso- phy, 2 vols., Edinburgh and London, 1866 ; London, 1888 ; TeichmiiUer, Studien zur Geschichte der Begriffe, Berlin, 1874 ; Neue Studien, Gotha, 1876-79; Byk, Die vorsokratische Philosophie, Leipsic, 1875-77; Burnet, Early Greek Philosophy, London and Edinburgh, 1892 ; Mayor, A Sketch of Ancient Philosophy from Thales to Cicero, Cambridge, 1881 ff. ; Benn, The Greek Philosophers, 2 vols., London, 1883 ; Windelband, Geschichte der griechischen Philosophic, 2d ed., Munich, 1894 ; Marshall, A Short SOURCES '9 For the Patristic period : the polemical writing** of the Fathers,^ especially the X0709 TrporpeTrrtKb^ irpb^ "EXX?;- z/a9, the Pedagogue^ and the arpay/jLara of St. Clement of Alexandria, the Priuci'ples and the Anti-Celsus of Origen, the Apologeticus of TertuUian, the Institutiones divince of Lactantius, the City of God and the Confessions of St. Augustine. For the Scholastic period: the De divisione naturce of Scotus Erigena, the Monologium^ the Froslogium^ and the Cur Deus homo of St. Anselmus, the Theology^ the Ethics^ and the Dialectics of Abelard, the Sentences of Peter the Lom- bard, the Commentary of Averroes, the Sum of St. Thomas, the Quccstiones of Duns Scotus and Occam, the Opus majus of Roger Bacon, the writings of Raymundus Lullus, the historical works of Ritter, Cousin, and Haur^au.^ History of Greek Philosophy, London, 1891 ; Chaignet, Histoire de la psychologic des Grecs, 5 vols., Paris, 1887-92 ; Ziegler, Die Ethik der Griechen und Romer, Bonn, 1881 ; Schmidt, Die Ethik der alten Grie- chen, 2 vols., Berlin, 1881 ; Kostlin, Die Ethik des klassischen Alter- Muw?s, Leipsic, 1887; Lutliardt, Die antike Ethik, 1887; Walter, Die Geschichte der Aesthetik im Alterthum, Leipsic, 1893; Rohde, Psyche, Seelenkult und Unsterhlichkeitsglauhe der Griechen, 2 vols., Freiburg, 1890-94 ; Bergk, Griechische Litteratur geschichte, 2 vols., Berlin, 1872, 1883; K. O. Miiller, Die Geschichte der griechischen Litteratur, 2 vols., Stuttgart, 1882-84 ; Mahaffy, History of Classical Greek Literature, 3 vols., 2d ed. London, 1892 ; Teuffel, Geschichte der romischen Littera- tur, 5tli ed., Leipsic, 1890 ; Bender, Grundriss der romischen Litteratur- geschichte, 2d ed., Leipsic, 1889 (Engl, transl. from first ed. by CroweU & Richardson, Boston, 1884) ; Preller, Griechische Mythologie, 2 vols., Berlin, 1875; Lehrs, Populdre Aufsdfze aus dem Alterthum, 2d ed., Leipsic, 1875; Laurie, Historical Survey of Pre-Christian Education^ London, 1895 (first published as a series of articles in the "School Review," May, 1893-April, 1895). For further references, see Ueber- weg-Heinze, § 7, pp. 27-33. Consult also the general histories of philosophy mentioned on pages 13 ff. — Tr.]. 1 Collected by J. P. Migne, Paris, 1840 ff. 2 [For primitive Christianity, patristic and scholastic j)hilosophy consult, besides the general histories of philosophy mentioned on pages 10 INTRODUCTION For the philosophy of the Renaissance : the De docta igno- rantia of Nicholas of Cusa, the De stchtilitate and the Be rsrum varictate of Cardanus, the De imiiiortalitatc animce of Pomponatius, the Animadver stones in diaUcticam Ari- stotelis of Ramus, the Essais of Montaigne, the Triumphus ■philosophic^^ the De rerum wternitate, and the De miindo of Taurellus, the Aurora of J. Boehme.^ 13 ff. : Drummond, Ph'do Judceus, or the Jewish-Alexandrian PhUusophy in its Development and Completion, 2 vols., London, 1888 ; Deutinger, Geist der cliristUchen Ueherlieferung, Regensburg, 1850-51 ; Ritschl, Die Entsteliwuj der aUkatholischen Kirche, 2d ed., Bonn, 1857 ; de Pres- sense, Histoire des trois premiers sihcles de Veglise, Paris, 1858 ff. ; Baur, Das Christenthum der drei erslen Jahrhunderte, 2d ed., Tubingen, 1860 ; J. Alzog, Grundriss der Patrologic, 3d ed., Freiburg, 1876 ; Pfleiderer, Das Urchrisienihum, Berlin, 1887; Stockl, Geschichte der Philosopliie der patristischen Zeit, Wurzburg, 1859 ; Huber, Die Philoso- phie der Kirchenvater, Munich, 1859 ; N'eander, Christliche Dogmenge- schichte, ed. by J. Jacobi, Berlin, 1857 ; Ilarnack, Lehrbuch der DogmengescMchte, 3 vols., 2d ed., Freiburg, 1888-90 ; Donaldson, A Critical History of Christian Literature and Doctrine, 3 vols., London, 1865-66 ; same author, The Apostolic Fathers, London, 1874 ; Bitter, Die christliche Philosophic, 2 vols., Gottingen, 1858-59 ; Rousselot, Etudes sur la philosophic dans le moyen-dge, Paris, 1840-42; Haureau, De la philosophic scolastique, 2 vols., Paris, 1850; same author, Histoire de la philosophic scolastique, 2d series, Paris, 1872-80 : Stockl, Geschichte der Philosophic des Mittekdters, 'd vols., Mayence, 1864-66; Baeumker, Beitrdge zur Geschichte der Philosophic des Mittelalters, Miinster, 1891 ff. ; Renter, Die Geschichte der religiosen Auflidrung im Mittelalter, 2 vols., Berlin, 1875-77 ; W. Kaulich, Geschichte der scholastischen Phil- osophie, Prague, 1863; Werner, Die Scholastik des spdteren Mittelalters, 3 vols., Vienna, 1881 ff. ; Gass, Geschichte der christUchen Ethik, Berlin, 1881 ; Ziegler, Geschichte der christUchen Ethik, Strasburg, 1886 ; 2d ed., 1892; Luthardt, Geschichte der christUchen Ethik, 1888; Lecky, A History of European Morcds from Augustus to Charlemagne, 2 \o\&., London, 1869 ; 3d ed., 1877 ; Denifle, Die Universitdten des Mittelalters, Berlin, 1885 ; Laurie, The Rise and Early Constitution of Universities, New York, 1888. For further references, see Ueberweg-Heinze, vol. IL, §§ 1, 3,4ff.; §§ 19 ff.-TK.] ^ [For the Renaissance, see the general and modern histories of philosophy (pp. 12-16), and the following: Carrifere, Die philoso- SOURCES 11 For modern times : Bruno's Del infiidto universo and De 7iionade, Campanella's Athcismits trmntphatus^ Fhilosophia sensibus demonstrata, and De (jentilismo^ Francis Bacon's No- viivi orr/anum^ Hobbcs's De cive and De eoiyore^ Descartes 's Discourse on Metliod and Principles^ Malebranche's Recherche de la verite^ Spinoza's Ethics^ Locke's Essay concerning Hu- man Understanding^ Leibniz's Netv Essays and Monadology^ Berkeley's Pri7iciples of Human Knowledge^ CondiHac's Treatise on Sensations^ Holbach's System of Nature^ the Essays of Hume and Reid, Kant's Critiques^ Fichte's Science of Knowledge^ Schelling's System of Transcendental Idealism^ Hegel's Logic and Encyclopedia of Fhilosophical Sciences^ the Metaphysics and the Psychology of Herbart, Schoj)enhauer's World as Will and Idea^ Comte's Course on Positive Phil- osophy^ J. S. Mill's Logic^ Herbert Spencer's First Prin- ciples^ Albert Lange's History of Materialism^ Ed. von Hartmann's Philosophy of the Unconscious^ etc. ; likewise the chief works of modern scientific literature of general and therefore philosophical interest, like the Celestial Revolutions by Copernicus, the Mathematical Principles of Natural Philosophy by Newton, the Spirit of the Laws by Montesquieu, the Analytical Mechanics by Lagrange, the Natural History of the Heavens by Kant, the Celestial Mechanics and Exposition of the System of the World by Laplace, Darwin's book on the Origin of Species^ etc. ; phische Weltanschauung der Reformationszeit, 1847, 2d ed., Leipsic, 1887; Voigt, Die Wiederhelehung des classischen AUerthums, 1859; 3d ed., edited by Lehnerdt, 2 vols., Berlin, 1893 ; Burckhardt, Die Cidtur der Renaissance, 2 vols, 1860, 4th ed. by L. Geiger, Leipsic, 1886 (Engl, transl. by S. G. C. Middleman, London, 1878 and 1890); Geiger, Renaissance und Humantsmus in Italien und Deutschland, Berlin, 1882; Symonds, The Renaissance in Italy, 7 vols., London, 1875- 1886 ; Peschel, Geschichte des Zeltalters der EntdecJcungen, 2d ed., Leipsic, 1879. For further references, Ueberweg-Heinze, vol. III., §§ 2-6. - Tr.] 12 INTRODUCTION finally, the historical works of Ritter,^ Erclmann,^ Barchou de Penhocn,3 Michelet* (of Berlin), Willm,^ Chalybseus,^ Bartholmess,^ Kuno Fischer,^ Zeller,^ Winclelband,^^ etcJ^ 1 Gesckichte der neueren Philosophic (vols. IX.-XII. of his Ge- schichte der Philosophie), 1850-53. 2 Versuch einer tvissenschaftlichen Darstellung der neueren Philosophies 6 vols., Riga and Leipsic, 1834:-1853» 8 Histoire de la philosophic allemande depuis Leibniz Jusqu^a nos jours, Paris, 1836. * Geschichte der letzten Systeme der Philosophic in Deuischland von Kant his Hegel, 2 vols., Berlin 1837-38. ^ Histoire dc la philosophie allemande \puis Kant jusqu'a Hegel, 4 vols., Paris, 1846-49. ^ Historische Entwickelung der spekulaiiven Philosophie in Deutschland von Kant his Hegel, Dresden, 1837, 5th ed., 1860 ; Engl, translation, 1854. ' Histoire des doctrines religieuses de la philosophie moderne, 2 vols., Paris, 1855 ; Histoire philosophique de V Academic de Prusse, 2 vols., Paris, 1851. 8 Geschichte der neueren Philosophie, 8 vols., Mannheim and Heidel- berg, 1854 ff.; [2d ed., 1865 ff. ; 3d ed., vol. I., 1 and 2, 1878, 1880; vol. XL, 1889; vols. III. and IV., 1882; 2d ed., vol. V., 1885, vol. VI. 1895 ; vol. VII. (Hegel) not yet published ; vol. VIII. (Schopen- hauer), 1893. Engl, translation of vol. I., 1, by J. P. Gordy, New York, 1887; of vol. III., book 2, by J. P. Mahaffy, London, 1866; of vol. v., chaps, i.-v., by W. S. Hough, London, 1888. Baco und seine Nachfolger, 2d ed., Leipsic, 1875, Engl, translation by Oxenford, Lon- don, 18.57. — Tr.]. * Geschichte der deutschen Philosophie seit Leibniz, Munich, 1872 ; 2d ed., 1875. ^•^ Geschichte der neuern Philosophie, vol. I., 1878, vol. II. 1880. " [Lechler, Geschichte des englischen Deismus, Stuttgart and Tubin- gen, 1841 ; Biedermann, Die deutsche Philosophie von Kant bis auj unsre Zeit, 2 vols., Leipsic, 1843; Damiron, Essai sur V histoire de la philosophie au 17'"^ siecle, Paris, 1846 ; Fortlage, Genetische Geschichte der Philosophie seit Kant, Leipsic, 1852 ; Ch. de Remusat, Histoire de la philosophie en Angleterre, etc., 2 vols., Paris, 1875; Harms, Die Philo- sophie seit Kant, Berlin, 1876 ; Leslie Stephen, History of English Thought in the Eighteenth Century, London, 1876 ; Eucken, Geschichte und Krilik der Grundbegriffe der Gegemvart, Leipsic, 1878 ; 2d ed., SOURCES 13 For European pliilosopliy in general : (Stanley i), Brucker,2 Tiedemann,^ Buhle,* Degerando,^ Tennemann,^ 1893 (Engl, transl.by Stuart Plielps, 1880) ; Seth, Frojn Kant to Hegel, London, 1882 ; Euckeii, Beitnige zur Geschichte der neueren Philosophie, 1886 ; Monrad, Denkrichtungen der neueren Zeit, Bonn, 1879 ; Hoffding, Einleitung in die englische Philosoplde unserer Zeit (German transl. by Kurella), Leipsic, 1889 ; Bowen, Modern Philosophy, 6th ed., New York, 1891 ; Roberty, La philosophie du siecle, Paris, 1891 ; Royce, The Spirit of Modern Philosophy, New York, 1892; Burt, A History of Modern Philosophy, 2 vols., Chicago, 1892 ; Falckenberg, Die Geschichte der neueren Philosophie, 2d ed., 1892 (Engl, transl. by A. C. Armstrong, Jr., New York, 1893); Hoffding, Den Nyere Filosofe Historic, Kopenha- gen, vol. I., 1894; vol. II. will be issued in 1895; German translation of both volumes, by Bendixen, in the press (O. Reisland, Leipsic) ; W. Whewell, History of the Inductive Sciences, London, 1837, 3d ed., 1863 ; J. Schaller, Geschichte der Natnrphilosophie seit Bacon, 2 vols., Leipsic, 1811-41 ; J. Baumann, Die Lehren von Raum, Zeit und Mathe- matik in der neueren Philosophie, 2 vols., Berlin, 1868-69 ; Konig, Die Entwickelung des Causalprohlems von Cartesius bis Kant, Leipsic, 1888 ; same author. Die Entwickelung des Causalprohlems in der Phi- losophic seit Kant, 2 pts., Leipsic, 1889-90 ; Lasswitz, Geschichte der Atomistik vom Mittelcdter his Neioton, 2 vols., Hamburg and Leipsic, 1890; Grimm, Zur Geschichte des E rkenntnissprohlems von Bacon his Hume, 1890 ; Vorliinder, Geschichte der philosophischen Moral, Rechts-j 1 [History of Philosophy, London, 1655; in Latin, 2 vols., Leipsic, 1712. Also, Pierre Bayle, Dictionnaire historique et critique, 2 folio vols., 1695-97 ; 4th ed., revised and enlarged by Des Maizeaux, 4 folio vols., Amsterdam and Leyden, 1740 ; Boureau-Deslandes, Histoire critique de la philosophie, 3 vols., Paris, 1730-36 if. — Tr.] 2 Historia critica philosophice hide a mundi incunahilis, 6 vols., Leip- sic, 1742-67. 2 Geist der spekulativen Philosophie, 6 vols., Marburg, 1791-97. ^ Lehrhuch der Geschichte der Philosophie, 8 vols., Gottingen, 1796- 1804. ^ Histoire comparee des systemes de la philosophie, 3 vols., Paris,1803-, 2d ed., 4 vols., 1822-23. * Geschichte der Philosophie, 11 vols., Leipsic, 1798-1819; Grundriss der Geschichte der Philosophie, Leipsic, 1812 ; [Engl, transl. 1833 and 1852 (Bohn's Library)]. 14 ' INTRODUCTION Ritter,^ Hegel,^ Schwegler,^ Renouvier,^ ISrourrisson,^ Cousin,^ Janet,7 Prantl,^ Lange,^ Erdmann,!^ Ueberweg,ii iind Staatslehre der Englander und Franzosen, Marbm-g, 1855 ; Mack- intosh, On the Progress of Etliiccd Philosophy during the 17th and ISth Centuries, Edinburgh, 1872 ; Jodl, Geschichle der Ethik in der neueren Philosophie, 2 vols., Stuttgart, 1882-89; Bluntschli, Geschichte des all- gemeinen Sfaatsrechts und der Politik seit dem 16. Jahrhundert, Munich, 1864 ; O. rfleiderer, Religionsphilosophic auf geschichtlicher Grundlage, 2 vols., 3d ed., Berlin, 1893 (vol. I. : Geschichte der Religionsphilosoj)hie von Spinoza bis zur Gegenwart) ; Engl, transl. by A. Stewart and A. Menzies, London, 1886-1888; Punjer, Geschichte der christlichen Re- 1 Geschichte der Philosophic, 12 vols., Hamburg, 1829-53. 2 Vorlesungen uher die Geschichte der Philosophie, published by Michelet, Berlin, 1833 (vols. XIII.-XV. of the Complete Works)', [Engl, transl. by E. S. Haldane in 3 vols., London, 1892-1896. -Tr.] 8 Geschichte der Philosophie im Umriss, Stuttgart, 1848 ; 15th ed. 1891 ; [Engl, translations by Seelye, Xew York, 1856 ff., and J. H. Stirling, 7th ed., Edinburgh, 1879]. * Manuel de philosophie ancienne, 2 vols., Paris, 1844 ; Manuel de philosophie moderne, Paris, 1842. ^ T(d)leau des progres de la pense'e humaine depuis Thales jusqu'a Leibniz, Paris, 1858, 1860. ® Cours dliistoire de la philosophie, Paris, 1829 [Engl, transl. by 0. W. Wight, 2 vols., New York, 1889. — Tr.] ; Histoire ge'ne'rale de la philosophie depids les temps les plus anciens jusqiC au dix-neuvieme siecle, 1 vol., Paris, 1863; 12th ed. published by Barthelemy Saint-Hilaire, Paris, 1884. ' Histoire de la philosophie morale et politique dans Vantiquite et dans les temps modernes, Paris, 1858. ^ Geschichte der Logik im Abendlande, 4 vols., Leipsic, 1855 ff. ^ Geschichte des Materialismus, 8d ed., Iserlohn, 1876-77; [Engl, transl. in 3 vols, by E. C. Thomas, London, 1878-81. — Tr.]. "^^ Grundriss der Geschichte der Philosophie, 2 vols., 3d ed., Berlin, 1878 ; [4th ed. prepared by B. Erdmann, 1895 ; Engl, transl. 3 vols., ed. by W. S. Hough, London, 1890. — Tr.]. ^1 Grundriss der Geschichte der Philosophie, 3 vols., 7th ed., published and enlarged by Heinze, Berlin, 1888 ; [8th ed. vol. I., 1894, vol. TIL, 1, 1896 ; Engl, transl. by G. S. Morris, New York, 1872-74. — Tr.J. SOURCES 15 Scholten,! Duhrmg,^ Lewes,^ Lefevre,* Alaux,^ Franck,*^ Fouillee,^ Fabre,^ Kirchner.^ ligionspliilosophie seit der Reformation, 2 vols., Braunschweig, 1880-83; Engl, transl. by W, Hastie, vol. I., Edinburgh and London, 1887; Dessoir, Geschichte der neueren deutschen Psychologle, vol. L, Berlin, 1895; Buckle, History of Civilization in England, London, 1857-60; Draper, History of the Intellectual Development of Europe, New York, 1863; Lecky, History of the Rise and Influence of the Spirit of Rational- ism in Europe, London, 1865, 5th ed., 1872 ; Dean, The History of Civ- ilization, New York and London, 1869 ; Hettner, Litteraturgeschichte des 18. Jahrhunderts, 3 parts, Braunschweig, 1862-70 ; Paulsen, Ge- schichte des gelehrten Unterrichts (from middle ages to the present time), Leipsic, 1885 ; Engl, transl. by E. D. Perry, New York and London, 1895. For further references, see Falckenberg (trans.), pp. 15-17 ; also Ueberweg-Heinze, vol. TIL, § 1 ff. ; and Windelband's History of Philosophy. — Tr.] ^ History of Religion and Philosophy, 3d ed. much enlarged, 1868 (Dutch) ; French transl. from 2d ed. by Reville, Paris and Strasburg, 1861 ; German translation from 3d ed. by Redepenning, Elberfeld, 1868. 2 Kritische Geschichte der Philosophic, 4th ed., Leipsic, 1894. ^ A Biographical History of Philosophy from its Origin in Greece down to the Present Day, 3d ed., London, 1863. ^ La philosophic, Paris, 1879. ^ Histoire de la philosophic, Paris, 1882. ^ Dictionnaire des sciences philosophiqucs, 2d ed., Paris, 1875. " Histoire de la philosophic, Paris, 1875,4th ed., 1883; Extraits des grands philosophes, Paris, 1877. 8 Histoire de la philosophic, Paris, 1877. ^ Katechismus der Geschichte der Philosophie, Leipsic, 1878; 2d ed., 1884. [To these may be added : Trendelenburg, Historische Beitrage ziir Philosophie, 3 vols., Berlin, 1846-67; Zeller, Vorfrage und Abhandlungm, 3 series, 1865-81; Hartenstein, Ilistorisch-philosophische Ahhandlungen, Leipsic, 1870; Sigwart, Kleine Schriffen, 2 vols., 1881; 2d ed., 1889; Eucken, Lehensanscha.uungen der grossen Denl'cr, Leipsic, 1890; Bau- mann, Geschichte der Philosophie, 1890; Windelband, Geschichte der Philosophie, Freiburg, 1892 (Engl, ti-ansl. l\y J. H. Tufts, London and New York, 189 ]) ; Bergmann, Geschichte der Philosophie, 2 vols., Berlin, 1892-94; Deussen, Allgemeine Geschichte der Philosophic, in six parts, vol. L, part 1, Leip.sic, 1891; Willmann, Geschichte des Idealismm, 16 INTRODUCTION 3 vols., vol. I., Braunschweig, 1891. For further references, see Ueber- weg-Heinze, vol. I., § 4, Falckenberg, and Windelband. Histories of special philosophical sciences : Prantl (mentioned above) ; Harms, Die Philosophie in ihrer Geschichte, vol. I., Psydiolorjie, vol. II., Logik, Berlin, 1877, 1881 ; Siel)eck, Geschichte der Psychologies Gotha, 1880- 84 ; Sidgwick, History of Ethics, London and New York, 3d ed., 1892; Paulsen, System der Ethik, 2 vols., 3d ed., Berlin, 1894 (vol. L, pp. 31-191, contains a history of ethics); Paul Janet, Histoire de la science politique dans ses rapports avec la morale, 3d ed., Paris ; same author's History of Ethics, mentioned above ; Bosanquet, The History of uEsthetics, London and New York, 1892 ; Flint, History of the Philosophy of History, New York, 1891. For further references, see Uebervveg-Heinze, vol. I., § 4, pp. 8-15; Windelband (transl.), pp. 20, 21 ; and Falckenberg, pp. 15-17, 628-629. the following are the most important philosophical journals : The Philosophical Revieiv, vol. 4, 1895 ; Mind, New Series, vol. 4 ; The Monist, vol. 5 ; The Amer- ican Journal of Psychology, vol. 6 ; The Psychological Review, vol. 2 ; International Journcd of Ethics, vol. 5 ; Zeitschrift fur Philosophic und philosophische Kritik, New Series, vol. 106 ; Vierteljahresschrift fiir wissenschafliche Philosophic, vol. 18 ; Philosophisches Jahrhuch, vol. 8 ; Zeitschrift fur Philo-^ophie und Pedagogik, vol. 2 ; Jahrhuch fUr Philosophic und spekulative Theologie, vol. 9 ; Zeitschrift fiir exacte Philosophic, vol. 21 ; Archiv fur Geschichte der Philosophic, vol. 8 ; Archin fiir systematische Philosophic (New Series of the Philosophische Monats- hefte), vol. 1; Philosophische Studien, vol. 11; Zeitschrift fur Psy- chologic und Physiologic der Sinnesorgane, vol. 8 ; Zeitschrift fiir Vblker- psychologie und Sprachwissenschaft, vol. 25 ; Revue philosophique, vol 20 ; Revue de metaphysique et de morale, vol. 3 ; Uannee jihilosophique, vol. 5, 1894 ; Uannee psychologique, vol. 1 ; Rivista Italiana di Filosofa, vol. 9. The following American and English philosophical series are of value to the student of philosophy : Griggs's Philosophical Classics (German philosophers), G. S. Morris, editor, Chicago; Philosophical Classics for English Readers, W. Knight, editor, Philadelphia and Edinburgh ; Series of Modern Philosophers, E. H. Sneath, editor, New York ; Ethical Series, E. H. Sneath, editor, Boston ; The fJhrary of Philosophy, J. H. Muirhead, editor, London and New York ; The English and Foreign Philosophical IJbrary, London ; Ethical Library, J. H. Muirhead, editor, London and New York ; Bohn IJhrary, London. The most extensive German collection of philosophical works is the Philosophische Bihli- othek, J. H. von Kirchmann, editor, Heidelberg. Felix Alcan, Paris, publishes the Bibliotheque de Philosophie. — Tr.] I GREEK PHILOSOPHY FIRST PERIOD 4GE OF METAPHYSICS PROPER OR PHILOSOPHY OF NATURE (600-400) § 4. Origin of Greek Philosophy ^ The philosophy of the Hellenes emancipates itself from tlieir religion in the form of theology and gnomic mo- rality.2 Aryan naturalism, modified by the national genius 1 [Cf. chapters on mythology, etc., in Grote's History of Greece (cited page 8) ; Preller's Mythologie (cited page 9) ; Lehrs, Populare Aufmtze (cited page 9) ; and histories of Greek philosophy. — Tr.] 2 That is to say, philosophy is of comparatively recent origin, while religion, which precedes it historically, is as old as nations and hu- manity itself. Philosophy, heing a late product of human develop- ment, plays but a subordinate and intermittent part in history. Religion, on the other liand, guides its destinies. It is the primordial and permanent expression of what lies at the very root of our nature, that is, the will, and consists essentially in the loill to he, until the evolu- tion of consciousness enables it to foresee its highest and absolute end, the good. To will-to-live means to resist annihilation, conse- quently, to dread everything that is supposed to have the power of destroying and of preserving life. Now, the horror of death and of the forces which produce it, the passionate desire for life and what- ever is al:)le to preserve it, is precisely what constitutes the essence of €vae^(ia, the characteristic trait of the religious phenomenon. This is so true that we find the belief in immortality and tlie worship of the dead as beings that continue to lire in spite of all, intimately con- nected with all religions. Such a belief simply represents the desire of the will-to-live to continue even after death and beyond the grave. 18 GREEK PHILOSOPHY and the physical conditions under which it developed, forms its starting-point. Tliis naturalism had passed the period of infancy long before the appearance of philoso- phy. The luminous Ether (Diaus-Zeus), the Sun and its fire (Apollo), the Storm-cloud and its thunderbolts (Pallas-Athene), were originally taken for the gods them- selves. Just as the child transforms its surroundings into an enchanted world, and regards its doll and wooden horse as living beings, so the humanity-child makes na- ture after its own image. For the contemporaries of Homer and Hesiod, such objects are merely the sensible manifestations of the invisible divinity concealed behind them, a being that is similar to the human soul, but superior to it in pOAver, and, like it, invested with immortality. The gods form a kind of idealized, transcendent humanity, whose vices as well as virtues are magnified. The world is their work, their empire, the theatre of their wishes, The Old Testament, which might be cited against lis, and which is cer- tainly far from being explicit on the snbject of individual immortality, is so much the more outspoken on the question of the immortality of Israel. Nay, the immortality of Israel is its fundamental dogma. It has been well said, men would have no religion at all if there were no death ; and the essence of the religious phenomenon was excellently characterized by the preacher who once remarked : " I never have such well-disposed hearers as on Good Friday, and what makes them so religious is the memento mori" Hence we may define religion as fol- lows : Subjectively, it is the fear with which the givers of life and death, be they real or imaginary, inspire us ; objectively, it is the sum of ideas, doctrines, and institutions resulting from this feeling. Religious theory^ or theology, and religious jn-actice, or worsJiip, the orig- inal form of morality, are constitutive, but derived and secondary elements, the products of an essentially emotional, instinctive, and a^sthetical phenomenon called religion. By reflecting upon itself religion becomes theology ; theology, in its turn, reflects upon itself, and becomes religious criticism, philosophy (Xenophanes). [Concern- ing tlie origin and evolution of religion, see Paulsen's Introduction to Philosophy, pp. 266 ft'.] ORIGIN OF GREEK PHILOSOPHY 19 defeats, and tiiumphs. IMan, whom they envy rather than love, exists for their pleasure. They are the highest personifications of the will-to-live, and are jealous of their unquestioned superiority; hence they deny him perfect happiness. The most assiduous worship, the richest sacri- fices, the most perfect fidelity, cannot move them when our prosperity displeases them. Hence the melancholy which breathes in the gnomic poetry of a Solon or a Theognis, who prefer death to life, and esteem them happy who have never been born or who die young.^ In the measure in wliich the moral conscience is devel- oped and refined, religious ideas are transformed and spirit- ualized. The gods of Homer, who reflect the exuberant, versatile, and quarrelsome youth of the Hellenic nation, are succeeded by the just and wise gods, the creations of its riper manhood (Pindar, ^schylus, Sophocles). This qual- itative transformation of the religious ideas is accompanied by a quantitative transformation. Polytheism aims at greater simplicity. The good, which the will perceives as its highest end, is synonymous with harmony, and harmony means unity in diversity. Religious and moral progress is, in consequence, a progress in the unitary and monotheistic direction. The moral consciousness, which among the Greeks is identical with the sense of the beautiful, finds a powerful ally in reason and its natural tendency to unity. Guided by the monistic instinct, theology asks itself the question^ Who is the oldest of the gods, and in what order do they spring from their common Father ? and receives an answer in the theogonies of Hesiod, Pherecydes of SyTos,^ and Orpheus.^ Here, for the first time, the philosophical spirit 1 Cf. Zeller, vol. I., Introduction. 2 Pherecydis frcKjmenta coll. et illustr. Fr. G. Stiirz, 2d ed., Leipsic, 1834. 3 See concerning Orpheus the scholarly work of Lobeck, Aglaopha' mus sine de theolor/ice mysiiccp- Grcecorum causis, 2 vols., 1829. 20 GKEEK PHILOSOPHY finds satisfaction; these fantastic conceptions are anticipa- tions of the rational explanation of nature. To conscience and reason a third factor, experience, is added. This, too, assists in the transformation of religious ideas hy deinonstrating-, with increasing evidence, the im- possibility of explaining all phenomena, without exception, by capricious wills. The facts of mathematics, because of their universality and necessity, especially defy theo- logical interpretation ; how indeed can we assume the fact that twice two is four or that the three angles of a triangle are equal to two right angles, to be the result of caprice and not of absolute necessity ? In the same way the obser- vation of astronomical and physical facts, and their constant regularity and periodicity, gives rise to the idea of a Will that is superior to the whims of the gods {avdpev\ irdvra KpaSalvfi. AU\ d* iv ravra re fievciv KLVOv/xevou ovbev, ovbe fxcrepx^o'dal [Xiv eTriTTpenei aWore aWrj. aXXa /3poroi boKeovai deovs yevvacrdai TTjv a(f)eTepT]v r madrjcrtv e)(eiv (f)a)vf]v re defxas re, HduTa 0eoi9 dv€dr]Kav''0^.T]p6s 9^ 'HrrtoSo? re oacra nap avdponTvoKTLv oueibea Koi yj/^oyos ecrriV, Koi Tr\e1(TT ((pdey^avTO 6ewv ddepiaTia e'pya, KKenreiv, p.oi)^(veLv re koi dWrjXovi dnaTCveiv. AXX etroi x^^^pds y flx^v /3oef ^e Xeovres-, ^ ypd\lAai x^f-P^crai Koi epya reXeii/ dnep avdpes, iTTTTOi pev 6 iTTTTOio-i, /3de$' de re ^ovalu opoias Kai Ace decou Ibeas eypa(fiov 2 Sextus Empiricus, Adv. tn^K^ VII., Ill ; Simplicius, Inphjs., f. 7, 9, 19, 25, 31, 38 ; Procliis, Corr^^nL^ in Plat. Timceum, p. 105 ; Clem. of Alex., Strom., V., pp. 552 P,.. 614 A ; IMullach, Fragm. pTiil. gr.^ I., pp. 109 ff.; Hitter and Pre]]e.r,;pj). 85 ft.; [Burnet, pp. 218 ff.]. ELEATIC PHILOSOPHY 27 system. Since tliere is no cliange in God, and since God is everything, that which we call change {aXkoiovaOai) is but an appearance, an illusion {h6^a\ and there is in reality neither origin nor decay. The eternal being alone exists: this thesis forms the subject of a philosoj)hical poem, the fragments of which are the most ancient monu- ment in our possession of metaphysical speculation proper among the Greeks. In the fii'st part, dedicated to Truth, he demonstrates by means of specious arguments that our notions of change, plurality, and limitation contradict reason. In the second part, which deals Avith the merely illusory, he attempts to give an explanation of nature from the standpoint of illusion. Starting out with the idea of being, he proves that that which is cannot have become what it is, nor can it cease to be, nor become something else ; for if being has begunto exist, it has come either from being or non-being. Now, in the former case, it is its own product, it has created itself, which is equivalent to saying that it has not origi- nated, — that it is eternal. The latter case supposes that something can come from nothing, which is absurd. For the same reasons, that which exists can neither change nor perish, for in death it would pass either into being or into non-being. If being is changed into being, then it does not change ; and to assume that it becomes nothing is as impossible as to make it come from nothing. Consequently being is eternal. It is, moreover, immovable ; for it could move only in space ; now space is or is not ; if space is, it is identical with being, and to say of being that it is moved in space is to say that being is moved in being, which means that it is at rest. If space is nothing, there cannot be any movement either, for movement is possible only in space. Hence, movement cannot be conceived in any way, and is but an appearance. Being is a continuous {awex^'^) and indivisible whole. There is no void anywhere. There 28 GREEK PHILOSOPHY is no break between being and being ; consequently these are no atoms. Let us suppose, for the sake of argument, that there existed a void, a break between the assumed parts of the universe. If this interval is something real, it is what being is, it continues being, instead of interrupt- ing it ; it unites the bodies instead of dividing them into parts. If the void does not exist, then it can no longer divide them. There is then no interval between being and being, and all beings constitute but one single being. Being (the universe) is absolute and self-sufficient ; it has neither desires nor wants nor feelings of any kind. If it were relative, it could depend only on that which is or on that which is not. If being depends on being, it depends upon itself or is independent ; if it depends on that which does not exist, it is still independent ; which excludes from it all desire, all need, all feeling. When one is everything, one has no desires. Finally, being is one ; for a second being or a third being would be but a continuation of it, that is, itself. Hence, to sum up: Being can only be conceived as eternal, immutable, immovable, continuous, indivisible, infinite, unique. There is for the thinker but one single being, the All-One, in whom all individual dif- ferences are merged. The being that thinks and the being that is thought are the same thing {tcdvtov S' earl voelv re Kal ovveKev iari vorj/jia).^ In the" second part of his poem, Parmenides deals with opinion (86^a)^ which depends on the senses and is con- cerned with what is merely illusory. The universe, which reason conceives as an indivisible unity, is divided by the senses into two realms or rival elements: nio-ht or cold: and light, fire, or heat. The luiiverse, which to reason is without beginning or end, has its apparent origin, its genesis ; and this genesis is the successive victory of the principle of 1 Simplicius In Ph?js., f. 19 A, 31 B. ELEATIC PHILOSOPHY 29 light over the principle of darkness. Night is the mother, the luminous principle is the father, of all forms (et'Si;). The world shows the traces of the two elements to which it owes its origin even in its smallest parts. The warm and the cold, the clear and the obscure, are universally combined in constant proportions. The universe is com- posed of a series of concentric spheres, in which the light and warm spheres alternate with the dark and cold spheres. The outermost sphere, which encloses all the rest (to 7r€pt€)(^ov\ is solid, cold, and dark ; beneath it lies the fiery sphere of the fixed stars ("OXyyuTro? ecr^aro^;). The central sphere is also solid and cold, but it is surrounded by a sphere of light and life. This fiery sphere which encircles the solid core of the earth is the source of movement (that is, of illusion i), the hearth of universal life {earia tov Trai^To?), the seat of the Divinity (Aa/yu,«z^), the Queen of the world (f€u^epvr)T7](;), Justice (Alkt]), Necessity ('AvdyKr))^ the Mother of Love (A(f)poSLTt]). These doctrines, which partially reproduce Ionian and Pythagorean speculations, are not offered as the truth, but as hypotheses intended to orient us in the world of illu- sion. They have not for I^armenides the importance which they have for the lonians. Inasmuch as he does not grant the existence of motion, but rejects as illusory that which constitutes the essence of nature, he accepts no other science than metaphysics, no other metaphysics than that of a priori reasoning. On account of the opposition which he creates between the real and the intelligible, he is the chief fore- runner of Platonic idealism, without, however, being a spir- itualist in the modern sense. Spiritualism distinguishes 1)etween corporeal substance and soul-substance ; Eleatic metaphysics makes no such distinction. The being which it affirms is neither body nor soul, neither matter nor spirit ; it is being, nothing but being ; and everything else ^ Cf. the Maja of the Hindoos, the mother of illusions. 30 GREEK PHILOSOPHY is merely an accident, an appearance, an illusion. Nay, if we interpret the word matter in the subtle, metaphysical sense of substance or universal stchstratum, we may reckon Parmenides among the materialists, like his modern imi- tator Sj:>inoza. But it would be a mistake to call him a materialist in the sense in which the term is applied to Democritus and the modern materialists ; for materialism, properly so-called, exists only in opposition to spiritualism, whic;h is Liter than Parmenides. The monism of Par- menides and Heraclitus is like the l)lock of marble which may be foi'med into a basin or a Jupiter, or like tlie motlier- cell from which, according to circumstances, a Socrates or an Erostratus may come ; it is capable of being differ- entiated and developed into materialistic or spiritualistic monism. 3. Plato deduces idealism from it, while Melissus of Samos^ (440) interprets it in an altogether materialistic sense. This philosopher, who w^as also a brave general and a clever politician, opposes the Ionian cosmogonies with the Eleatic doctiine of the eternity of the world. If becoming is impossible, it is henceforth useless and absurd to inquire into the manner in which the universe originated. Being {to 6v) is infinite in time, and — which is contrary to the view of Parmenides, who conceived it as a sphere — infinite in space {coorirep earl alei^ ovrco /cal to /jieyado'^ aireipov alel XPV eli^ai). This latter trait, which leaves no doubt as to the materialism of Melissus, gives his system a wholly modern stamp, and distinguishes it from most of the an- cient systems, particularly from that of Aristotle. For the Greek, who judges of things artistically, regards the infi- nite as the imperfect, as without limitation ; and the uni- verse, which is the acme of perfection, is surely the perfect ^ The author of a book, Trepi rov ovtos (in the Ionian dialect), quoted in different passages by Siniplicius, In P/tys., f . 22, and passim ; [Ritter and Preller pp. lOG-111 ; Mullach, I., pp. 261 ff. ; Burnet, 338 ff. — Tr.]. ELEATIC PHILOSOPHY 31 sphere, one half of which is revealed to us by the sense of sight, and of which the earth is the centre. 4. Zenq,^ a pupil and follower of Parmenides, is the controversialist of the school, the inventor of the process of demonstration called rediictio ad ahsurdum^ the father of dialectics and so|)histry. The One alone is conceivable ; extension, magnitude, motion, and space, cannot be con- / ceived. If there is such a thing as a (limited) magnitude, I it must be infinitely great and infinitely small : infinitely great, because, being infinitely divisible, it is composed of an infinite number of parts ; infinitely small, because unex- tended parts, even though multiplied by infinity, cannot produce extension or magnitude. Movement cannot be conceived ; for the line which sep- arates its starting-point from its point of rest is composed of points, and, since the point has no extension, of an infi- nite number of points. Hence every distance, even the smallest, is infinite, and the stopping-point can never be reached. However near you may imagine the swift Achilles to be to the slow tortoise, he will never be able to overtake it, since, in order to do so, he would first have to pass over one half of the distance, however small, which separates him from the tortoise, and, in order to pass over this half, he would first have to pass over the half of the half, and so on to infinity. The infinite divisibility of the line is for him an insurmountable obstacle. You have an idea that the arrow flies through space. But in order to reach its destination, it must pass over a series of points in space ; hence it must successively occupy these different points. Now, to occupy a point of space, at a given mo- ment, means to be at rest : therefore the arrow is at rest and its movement is but illusory. 1 Aristotle, Phys., VI., 2, 9 ; Simplicius, In Phys., f. 30, 130, 255; IMullach, I., pp. 266 ff. ; Ritter and Preller, pp. 100 ff. ; [Burnet, pp. 328 ff.]. 82 GREEK PHILOSOPHY Furthermore, if movement takes place, it can take place only in space. Now, if space is a reality, it exists some- where, that is, in a sjjace, which in turn exists in another space, and so on et? aireLpov. Motion is, therefore, impos- sible from every point of view, and we cannot suppose it to be real, unless we are willing to afhrm an absurdity. Being alone exists, and this being is immutable matter.^ 5. GoRGiAS ^ of Leontinum, the rhetorician, a pupil of Zeno, who was sent by his country as an ambassador to Athens in 427, deduces the ultimate consequences from the Eleatic principle and ends in nihilism. He is not, like Zeno, content with denying motion and space ; as his treatise, irepl rod fir] ovto^ rj irepl ^uo-eo)?, shows, he negates being itself. Nothing exists, he says ; for if a being existed, it Avould have to be eternal, as was proved by Parmenides. Now, an eternal being is inlinite. But an infinite being cannot exist in space or in time without being limited by them. Hence it is nowdiere, and that which is nowhere does not exist. And even if, assuming the impossible, something did exist, we could not know it ; and even if w^e could, this knowledge could not in any wise be communi- cated to others. Gorgias is the enfant terrible of the Eleatic school, whose extravagances turn the tide in favor of the Heraclitean principle ; Beincf is nothinri^ hcconmu/ is eveT}jthincj_. The heing of Parmenides and Zeno, which is eternal and im- mutable, but devoid of all positive attributes, is, in fact, a mere abstraction. It resembles the garment of the king, the fine texture of which everybody pretended to admire, until, at last, a little (^hild exclaimed, in the simplicity of its heart : " Why, the king is naked ! " 1 Aristotlo, Mef., ITI., 4, 41. 2 Arisiotlo, Dn Xevoplianc, Zcrione., ct Gorgki; Sextus Empir., Adv. viath., VIL, 05, 77 ; Ritter and Preller, 187 fl. HERACLITUS 33 B. Apotheosis of Becoming § 8. Heraclitus Heraclitus,^ who, on account of his love of paradox, was called the Obscure, flourished at Ephesus, near the end of the sixth century. He lias left a deeper impress on Greek tliought than any of the j^hysicists of the first period, and more than one modern hypothesis is either foreshadowed or expressly formulated in the valuable fragments of his book On Natiire (jrepl and which resembles either what physics formerly called caloric^ or the oxygen of modern chemistry. This original matter extends from the boundaries of the earth to the limits of the world. Everything that exists is derived from it, and strives to return to it ; every being is trans- formed fire ; and, conversely, every being may be, and, as a matter of fact, is, eventually changed into fire.^ Atmos- 1 Chief sources: Plato, Cratylus, p. 402 A; Plut. Is. et Osir., 45, 48; Clem, of Alex., Strain., Y. pp. 599,603; Diog, L., IX.; Sext. Emp., Adv. math., Vll., 126, 127, 133; Stobaeus; Schleiermacher, Herakleitos der Dunkle von Ephesos, (Complete Works, Part III., vol. 2, Berlin, 1838) ; Jac. Bernays, Heraclitea, Bonn, 1848 ; Die Heraklitisclien Briefe, Berlin, 1869 ; [Lassalle, Die Philosophie Herakleitos des Dunkeln von Ephesos, 2 vols., Berlin, 1858 ; Teichmiiller, Studien and Neue Stu- dien, quoted above ; E. Pfleiderer, Die Philosophie des Heraklit von Ephesus, Berlin, 1886 ; G. T. W. Patrick, Heraclitus on Nature, Balti- more, 1889. — Tr.]; Mullach, I., pp. 310 ff. ; Heraeliti Ephesii reliquice, collected by Bywater, Oxford, 1877 ; Bitter and Preller, 24 ff. ; [Bur- net, pp. 133 ff.]. 2 The physics of Heraclitus reminds one of the mechanical theory of heat taught by modern physics, which, like the sage of Ephesus, considers all organic life as a transformation of solar heat. 84 GREEK PHILOSOPHY pheric air and water are fire in process of extinction or in process of renewal ; earth and solids are extinguished fire, and will be rekindled afresh at the hour fixed by Fate. Ac- cording to an immutable law, the fire of the heavenly regions is successively transformed into vapor, water, and earth, only to return again, in the o^^posite direction, to its principle ; then it thickens again, re-ascends into the heavens, and so on ad infinituin. The universe is, therefore, fire in the process of transformation (jrvpo^ rpoirai)^ an ever-living fire, which is periodically kindled and extinguished. It is neither the work of a god nor of a man. It has had no be- ginning, and it will never end. There is an end of the world in the sense that all things ultimately return to fire ; but the world eternally re-arises from its ashes. Universal life is an endless alternation of creation and destruction, — a game which Jupiter plays with himself. Rest, stand-still, in a Avord, being, is an illusion of the senses. It is not possible to descend twice into the same stream ; ^ nay, it is not even possible to descend into it once ; we are and Ave are not in it ; we make up our minds to plunge into the waves, and, behold ! they are already far away from us. In the eternal whirl, the nothing constantly changes into be- ing, and being is incessantly swallowed up in nothingness. Since non-being produces being, and vice versa ; being and non-being, life and death, origin and decay, are the same. If they were not, they could not be transformed into each other. The perpetual floiv of things is not, as the expression might lead one to think, an easy process, like the gliding of a brook over a bed of polished stones. Becoming is a struggle between contrary forces, between opposing cur- rents, one of which comes from above and strives to ti'ans- form the celestial fire into solid matter; while the other 1 Plato, Cratylus, p. 402 A : iravra x, YlvOayopus = an insjnred one, a soolhsaijer, and Buddha = enlightened) bear such close resemblance to each other that even the most fastidious philol- ogist can find no objection in translating UvOayopeios by " preacher of P)udd]iism," but the Pytliagorean and ])uddhi8tic teachings are very murhiilijiii. Dualism, ]>essimism. metem]\sychosis, celibacy, a common lilV; according to riijprmis i-ules, frequent self- examinations, medita- Uous, dex^oTfonsTp^'ohibiiions against bloody sacrifices and animal nourisliment, kindliness towards all men, trutlifulness, fidelity, justice,. — nil these elements are common to both. The fact that most ancient aulhoi-s and above all Aristotle himself have comparatively little to say THE PYTHAGOREAN SPECULATION 39 Nothing certain is known of the end of the philosopher. His work prospered. The Pythagoreans were the posses- sors of all the sciences known in their time, — geometry, astronomy, music, and medicine,^ — and consequently ac- quired an overpowering influence among the Doric people, who were less advanced than the lonians. They pre- ponderated at Crotona, at Tarentum, and in the Sicilian republics, until the middle of the fifth century, when the victorious democracy partly expelled them. The exiles repaired to Thebes or to Athens. Here their influence counteracted that of the Sophists, and brought about the spiritualistic reaction of Socrates and Plato against the materialism and scepticism which had, in the same epoch, been imported from Sicily, Tlu-ace, and Ionia. Ionian metaphysics springs from physics ; Pythago- rean metaphysics is grafted on mathematics, and is conse- quently totally different from the former at the very outset. What interests the philosophers of Miletus is matter and its concerning the person and Hfe of Pythagoras, would tend to confirm the hypothesis of the identity of Pythagoreanism and Buddhism. However, the existence of Pythagoras, the mathematician, five centu- ries before the Christian era, is placed beyond doubt by the testimony of Heraclitus, Herodotus, etc. Furthermore, Buddhism in the form of Manichfeisni (that is to say, monachism) did not begin to spread westward before the third century of our era. We may perhaps ex- plain everything satisfactorily by distinguishing between the Pytha- goreanism of the Neo-Platonic historians and primitive and genuine Pythagoreanism. The biographers of Pythagoras were without exact and sufficient data regarding the life and work of the sage of Samos, and somewhat unscrupulous, besides, in the choice of their sources. They likewise allowed themselves to be misled by certain analogies ; the essential features of their imaginary portrait are derived from Persian dualism and Hindoo pessimism. 1 These sciences, which constituted the subject-matter of Pythago- rean ijistruction, were called fiaOruxaTa, — the term from which the word mathematics is derived. The original meaning of the word embrace* the totality of human knowledge. 40 GREEK PHILOSOPHY perpetual movement; what impresses Pythagoras and the Pytliagoreans is tlie immaterial in matter, the order which prevails in the world, the unity, proportion, and harmony in its contrasts, the mathematical relations underlying all things. In geometry, in astronomy, and in music, every- thing is ultimately reduced to number. Hence number is the principle and innermost essence of the world; and things are sensible numbers. Every being represents a number, and the final goal of science is to find for each beincr the number for which it stands. The infinite series of numbers, and consequently of things, is derived from unity. As number is the essence of things, unity is tlie essence of number. Pythagoreanism distinguishes two kinds of unities : (1) the Unity from which the series of numbers (beings) is derived, and which therefore contains and comprehends them all; the a])Solute and unopposed unity, the Monad of monads (?; fiovd^), the God of gods ; and (2) the One, the first in the series of derived numbers, which is opposed to the numbers tivo, three, and every plu- rality (ttXtJ^o?), and consequently limited by the two, the three, and the plurality; it is a relative unity, a created monad (^ro eV). The opposition between the one and the Qiiany is the source of all the rest. All the contrasts of nature, the dry and the moist, tlie warm and the cold, the clear and the obscure, the male and the female, the good and the evil, the finite {ireTrepaaixevov) and the infinite {aireipov), are lait varieties of the ev and the ttXtJ^o?, or of the odd (irepiTTov^ and the even (apnov'). Plurality as such is Avithout consistency and may be divided into unities; the even number is reducible to the odd unit. The absolute unity is neither even nor odd ; or rather, it is as yet both even and odd, singular and plural, God and the world. It is to Pythagoreanism what the aireipov is in the system of Anaximander: the neuter being that is superior and anterior to sexual contrasts, the absolute THE PYTHAGOREAN SPECULATION 41 indifference which precedes and creates the dualism of forces and elements. But the Pythagoreans guard against calling it liiretpov^ since tlie anreipov is, according to them, opposed to the irepaivov^ as passivity to activity, or matter to the workman, or form, or plastic principle. Inasmuch as everything is, according to them, reduced to number, nu- merical relations, and ultimately to Idea, the matter and motion of the lonians are, in their opinion, merely negative, the absence of ideal unity. Concerning the question of movement and origin, the conclusions of the Pythagoreans do not differ from the Eleatic doctrines. Movement and origin seem to be incompatible with their idealism. Al- though tliey have their own cosmogony, like the other schools of the period, they do not assume that the universe had a beginning in time, and consequently that there was a time when the universe did not exist. The world has existed ef alcbvo^ koI eU alcova^ and the cosmogony simply aims to explain the order, law, or series, according to Avhich things eternally emanate from their principle. Pythagorean physics therefore accommodates itself to human sensualism^ just like the physics of Parmenides. It makes what is in itself immutable, variable. It places itself on the sensualistic standpoint held by the novices among its followers {a/coua/jiaTLKOL), and represents the eternal unity as a sphere (77 rod Travm ac^alpa)^ as a compact sphere, in which the parts are not distinguished (wXripe^;, cri'z/e;^e?), and which floats in the infinite (aTretpov). The ideal opposi- tion between the even and the odd, the one and the many, becomes the real opposition of the full and the void. At the origin of things, the full Avas without the void, or, at least, the void was external to it. The formation of the cosmos begins by the void breaking in upon the full. This process is like a perpetual breath which agitates the world ('TTvorj^ Trvev fia). The void penetrates the acjiatpa and establishes itself in it, thereby breaking it up into an 42 GREEK PHILOSOPHY infinite number of infinitesimal particles, reduced images of the a(j)alpa (the drofjia of the atomists). Since, from the geometrical point of view, quality is reduced to quantity and form, tliese particles differ only in quantity and in figure. They form either cubes or pyramids (tetrahedrons) or octahedrons or icosahedrons or dodecahedrons. The unity reacts against this endless separation, and the parti- cles are joined together again according to their geometric affinities and form elementary bodies: earth, fu^e, air, water, and ether. Fire is the element pa?- excellence.^ being formed of tetrahedric particles. It is the symbol of the divine principle in nature and is concentrated into a central sun, the hearth of the universe and the abode of the Supreme God {ecTTLa rod Traz^ro?), around which revolve (1) tlie Oura- nos, embracing the counter-earth {avTixOcov) and the earth ; (2) the Cosmos proper, consisting of the moon, the sun (?) and the planets ; (3) the Olympus with the fixed stais. Pythagoras substitutes for the earth a central fire (which is iiivisil^le because the earth keeps facing it witli the part that is opposite to the one we inhabit), and makes the earth revolve around this centre. But this does not mean, of course, that he advanced the hello ceMric theory ; he merely foreshadowed the system which Ins scliool formulated during the following centuries Avithout succeeding in hav- ing it accepted by the majority of scientists. The distances separating the spheres are proportional to the numbers which express the relations that exist between tones and the respective lengths of vibrating strings ; and the result of their revolutions around the axis of the world is a divine harmony whicli the musical genius alone can perceive. This harmony is the soul of the universe. The different beings form an ascending scale according to the degree of perfection with which they reflect the universal harmony. The motion of the elementary l)eing, the physical point, produces the Une ; the line moves and produces the plane j 'iHE PYTHAGOREAN SPECULATION 43 the pliiiie produces the bocl}^ from which sensation, percep- tion, and intelligence gradually arise (emanation). The individual is mortal in so far as he springs from the temporary union of corporeal elements, according to a ratio that varies within certain limits. When these limits are passed, proportion becomes disproportion, an unequal strug- gle, disease, decay, and death. But the ideal contents of tlie broken vase are secure against destruction. The soul is a fixed number in the eternal scale of things, a portion of the world-soul, a spark of the celestial fire, a thought of God. In this respect it is immortal; at death it enters upon a state that is superior or inferior to our present life or like it, according as the soul has lived for God, for the world, or for itself (metempsychosis and palingenesis). Although the Pythagoreans, like Parmenides and Hera- clitus, accentuate one of the constitutive elements of reality and eventually negate concrete existence in order to exalt the Idea, they none the less inti-oduce into Greek thought one of the most important factors in the solution of the Eleatic-Heraclitean problem: What is becoming or the l)rocess of perpetual change affirmed by the philosopher of Ephesus, and how can it be reconciled with the con- ception of the permanence and immutability of matter, which is advanced, no less authoritatively, by the school of Elea? We mean their theory of monads : the infinitesimal })articles or physical points of which matter is made up. Tlie subsequent systems all attempt to reconcile Elea and Ephesus by means of tlie physico-arithmetical theory of elementary units. Thought discovers in the atomistic hypotliesis the middle term that unites Parmenides, who denies the great empirical fact of generation and change, and Ileraclitus, who sacrifices being and its permanence to becoming, — thereby combining the two rival systems into a higher synthesis, — and lays the foundation for every rational explanation of the process of beconung. Hence- 44 GREEK I'lIILOSOPHY forth philosophy no longer regards matter as a continuous mass, the essential properties of which are incessantly transformed. It breaks them up into parts that are in themselves immutable, but which continually change their relative positions. As a consequence, there can be both perpetual change in the aspects of matter (bodies) and per- manence in the essence and properties of matter. All change is reduced to change of place : mechanism. Empedocles, Anaxagoras, and Democritus, who hold this theory, differ from each other as Heraclitus, Pythagoras, and Anaximander differ among themselves ; that is to say, the first makes motion, the second, the Idea (i^oO?), the third, matter, the keystone of his system. § 10. Empedocles Empedocles,^ of Agrigentum, in Sicily (450), who in consequence of his knowledge of medicine, the cures which he effected, and the mystery with which he loved to sur- round himself, was regarded as a magician and a god, is the author of a grand philosophical poem, the fragments of which seem to place him in an intermediate position between the Eleatics and the lonians. He sides with the Eleatics in his denial of becoming, as Heraclitus understands it ; and approaches the lonians in assuming the reality of motion. Matter is immutable in its essence, but bodies are in a state of constant change ; their constituent elements are combined and separated in different proportions. We cannot conceive how fire as such can become air, air, water, and so on ; but it is con- 1 Sext. Emp., Adv. math., VIL, 123; Simpliciiis, In PJu/s., f. 24, f. 76; Plutarch, De plac. pJiiL; Aristotle (Afef., Phys., and PsycJioIor/i/), etc.; Fragments of Empedocles, collected by A. Peyron (Leipsic, 1810), S. Karsten (Religuke pML vet. gr., vol. IT., Amst., 1838), Th. fBergk (Leipsic, 1843), IT. Stein (Bonn, 1852), Mullacli (L, pp. 1 if.), Ritter and Preller (pp. 125 ff.) ; [Burnet, pp. 218 ff.]. EMPEDOCLES 45 ceivable that the thousand different combinations of these elements shoukl produce an infinite variety of bodies. Hence we must abandon the notion of elementary unity ; we must cease deriving air from ether, water from air, earth from water, and consider these four elements as equally original. Have Xhefour elements {a-TOLyela) movement of their own, or have they received it from a distinct principle, from a higher force? It is hard to separate the thought of the philosopher from his poetical phraseology, encumbered as it is by images and contradictions. We may, it seems, con- clude from his poem that he no longer assumes hylozoism, the eternity of motion, and the original vitality of matter in the same sense as the Ionian physicists. He appears to explain movement by an immaterial principle, or rather, by two distinct immaterial principles, one of which unites the elements, while the other separates them: Love ((^iXm, alpo^. The four radical elements are represented in him : the earthly element, by the solid 23arts of the body ; water, by its liquid parts ; air, by the vital breath ; fire, by the spirit. He is likewise affected by Love and Hate. His intellectual superiority follows from the fact that all the cosmical elements are concentrated in him. He perceives everything, because he is everything ; lie perceives solids because he is earth ; liquids, because he is water ; and so on. We have here a theory, or let us rather say, the beginnings of a theory of sensation that might be called homueopathic as distinguished from the allopathism of Anaxagoras. The latter derives sensation from the coming-together of contraries; according to Empedocles, sensation results from the contact of similars. The blood, in which tlie four elements are most closely mingled, is the seat of sensation and of the soul. This is proved by the fact that wlien we withdraw all the blood from the body we deprive it of sensation, consciousness, life, — in a word, of soul. The health of a man depends on the composition of his blood. We are healthy and good when our blood is normally composed (^eV?; /cpd(TL<;). The blood is sacred, and ought not to serve as nourishment. In these doctrines, which remind us of Egypt, Moses, Buddha, and Zoroaster, we see the da^vn, as it Avere, of modern physiology. In his theology, Empedocles conceals his naturalism under the traditional forms of mythology. He deifies — in name only, not actually, like popular belief — the four elements, wdiich he calls Zeus, Hera, Orcus, and Nestis, and the two motive principles, Love and Discord. But we find in Empedocles, ahmgside of liis theological atomism and naturalized polytheism, Eleatic monism and the tendency to reduce elements and principles to a higher unity, which is the only true God. Love is the principle of principles ; the four elements are merely its agents, and Discord itself its indispensable accomplice : it is the inef- 48 GREEK PIIILOSOPIIY fable, invisible, incorporeal God, flashing througli the whole world with rapid thoughts.^ The leading thonght in the teaching of Empedocles, freed from its theological shell, meets us again in the sys- tem of the Ionian Anaxagoras. Anaxagoras is the founder of corpuscular physics, and, by his hypothesis of tlie order- ing z^oO?, anticipates the teleology of Plato and Aristotle. § 11. Anaxagoras Anaxagoras ^ was born at Clazomen^e in Ionia, of an illustrious family. He seems to have emigrated to Athens about 460, and to have been, for tliirty years, the central figure in this new intellectual centre of Greece. His friendship for Pericles, Euripides, and Protagoras, and his profound contempt for the official religion made it neces- sary for him to retire to Lampsacus towards the close of his life. Here he died about 429 b. c. Like the majority of the great physicists of antiquity, he left a book irepl ^vcreco^;, a iew fragments of which are still extant. Anaxagoras opposes Heraclitus in two essential points : 1. He opposes his dynamism with a mechanical cos- mogony. 2. He substitutes dualism for hylozoistic monism, as- suming the existence of an unintelligent, inert substance and of an intelligent principle, the cause of motion. 1 Mullach, p. 12, V. 395 : — ft>pr)v Upfj Koi ddeacfiaTOS eTrXero fiovvov (PpovTL(Ti Koafiov anavTa KaTatcraovaa Oofjanv. 2 Aristotle, Met., I., 3 ; passim; Simplicius, In Phys., f. 33, 34, 35, 38 ; Diog. Laertius ; Fragments collected by Scliaubacli (Leipsic, 1827), Schorn (Bonn, 1829), Mullach (I., pp. 243 ff.), Ritter and Preller (pp. 112 ff.) ; [Burnet (pp. 282 ff.) ; Breier, Die Philosophie des Anaxagoras, Berlin, 1840] ; Zevort, Dissertation sur la vie et la doctrine d^Anaxagore, Paris, 1848. ANAXAGOUAS 49 1. The Materials of the Cosmogony. — Matter cannot be reduced to a single element, to a homogeneous substance, like water, air, or fire, that may be transformed into other substances. It is inconceivable how a substance can become another substance. Hence there are several primitive elements, and not only four, as Empedocles teaches ; nay, there is an infinite numljer of them. These germs of things (o-TrepfxaTa) are infinite in number and infinitely small (^^prj/jLara aireipa fcal ttXtjOo^ kol afiiKpo- Tjjra)^ uncreated, indestructiljle, and absolutely unchange- able in essence. The quantity of these first principles is always the same ; nothing can be destroyed or added {iravra laa ael . . . ael irdvra ovhev eXdo-aco iarlv ovSe irXeiw) ; they change neither in quality nor in quantity. Nothing comes into being or passes away. Our usual notions of birth (coming-into-being) and death (passing- away) are absolutely wrong. Nothing is produced ex nihilo, and nothing is lost ; things are formed by the com- bination of pre-existing germs, and disappear by the disin- tegration of these germs, Vv^hich still continue to exist. Hence it would be better to call coming into heing, mixture, and passing away or deaths separation} There is no other change except change of place and grouping, external meta- morphosis, movement; the notion of change of essence or transubstantiation is a contradiction. 2. Efficient and Final Causes of the Cos- mogony. — Anaxagoras no longer regards the motion which produces and destroys things as an original and eternal reality, inherent in the very nature of the ele- ments. Tlie latter are inert and incapable of moving by themselves. Hence they cannot account for the move- * Simplicins, In Phi/s., 34 : To be yivecrdaL kol cmoWvadcn ovk opdoos vo^i^ovaiv ot "EXX/j^ff • ovdev yap XP^f^^ "^'^^ yiverat ov8e aTroWwai aXX' OTTO eovrcou ;^p?7/i,arci)i/ avp.}x'iayeTai re Ka\ diaKpiverai. Koi ovtu)s av opdcos KaXolev TO T€ yivecrOui (Tvppiay€(rOai, kol to drroWvadai hiuKpiveadai. 4 50 GREEK rillLOSOPHY ment in the world and the order which rules it. In ordei to explain the cosmos, we must assume, in addition to the material, inert, and unintelligent elements, an element that possesses a force and intelligence of its own (vov^). This element of elements is absolutely simple and homo- geneous ; it is not mixed with the other elements, but is absolutely distinct from tliem. The latter are Avholly passive ; the vov<^, however, is endowed with spontaneous activity; it is j)erfectly free {avroKparr]^)^ and the source of all movement and life in the world. The inferior ele- ments have no consciousness of their own ; the mind knows all things j)ast, present, and future ; it has arranged and organized everytliing with design and according to its teleological fitness ; it is the eternal governor of the universe, more powerful than ail the other elements put together. 3. Cosmogony. — In the beginning, the inert and unintelligent elements were all jumbled together {o^iov iravTo). In this original chaos (^tyjua)^ everything was in everything : gold, silver, air, ether, all things which are now separated, formed an indeterminate and inert mass. The intelligent substance alone lived a distinct life of its own. Then it entered the chaos and disentangled it, mak- ing the cosmos out of it (elra vov^ eXOcov irdvra Sie/co- o-fjLTjae). The germs, being set in motion by the Nous, were separated and mingled together again according to their inner affinities. From the point where movement is im- parted to the chaos, the whirling motion (Slvo^) gradually extends over a wider and wider space to all parts of the world ; it continues, as is proved by the rotation of the heavens, and will continue without interruption until the filyfia is completely separated. Our earth is a cylin- drical body and is composed of the heaviest germs, which were carried towards the centre of the world by the orig- inal motion. The lighter corpuscles, which form water, ANAXAGORAS 51 were deposited upon this solid mass ; higher up, the atmo- sphere is formed by the germs of air ; at hist, in the heavenly regions, the most subtle elements, the fiery ether, are mixed together again. A second separation of elements takes place, and the original motion parts off from the earth the different solid, mineral, and other bodies which compose it; from the water it parts off the differ- ent liquids, and so on, until our central world i-eceives the shape which it now has. The stars are solid masses, which were torn from the earth hy the rotatory motion originally possessed by it in common with the rest of the universe, and which were ignited by coming in contact with the celestial ether. The sun is a fiery mass, /jLv8po(; hdirvpo^. The moon has mountains and valleys in it, and borrows its light from the sun. The views which we have just expounded forecast the cosmogonic theories of Buffon, Kant, and Laplace. Anaxa- goras also anticipates comparative physiology by advancing the principle of the continuity of beings, by pointing out the unity of purpose in the diverse vegetable and animal types. In spite of all that has been said, however, he is so far from being a spiritualist in the Cartesian sense of the term, that he conceives animals, and even plants, as sharing in the vov^. If man is more intelligent than animals, it is, he believes, because his mind employs more developed organs. All living things, without exception, are endowed with mind. How do living beings partake of mind ? Does the intel- ligent principle of Anaxagoras exist outside of these beings, or is it but the sum of all the intelligences, all the purposes, and all the motive forces, whence move- ment in general results? On the one hand, it is certain that, inasmuch as the vov<; knows all things past, present, and future, and knows them before the organization of matter, it in no wise resembles either the Substance of 52 GREEK PHILOSOPHY Spinoza or the active Idea of Hegel; for the Substance of Sj^inoza and tlie Idea of Hegel know things only through tlie mediation of the human brain ; that is to say, by means of previously-organized matter. Anaxagoras is so decided in his assumption that the vov<^ is free and conscious of its action, tliat lie regards the word Fate {elixapjievrj) as devoid of meaning. Besides, the very term which he uses to designate the motive principle signifies reason, purpose. He seems to make a transcendent being of it, one that exists independently of other beings, and acts u^^on them in a purely mechanical way. He even seems to consider these beings, not as intelligent in the true sense of the word, but as automata which appear to be intelligent with- out really being so. On the other hand, he speaks of the presence of the vov^ in living creatures as though he were a pantheist. The long and short of it is, the thinkers of this remote age never broached the questions of transcendency and immanency, personality and impersonality, conscious intelligence and unconscious intelligence. Heraclitus found nothing objectionable in assuming a primitive substance and a perpetual state of change. Similarly, we may suppose, Anaxagoras maintained both the transcendency and the immanency of the i^oO?, without even suspecting that he was contradicting himself. The same may be said in answer to the question whether the vov<^ of Anaxagoras is simply less material than other substances, or whether it is an absolutely immaterial entity. It is undoubtedly true, on the one hand, that the attributes of the z^oi)? are altogether like those of the sjnrit of spiritualism, and that the vov^ seems to have nothing in common with matter except existence. Yet, on the other hand, there seems to be but a difference of degree between the i^oO? and material substances : the z^oO?, in fact, is the finest, the most mobile thing of all (XeirroTarov Trdvrcov ')(^pi]/jLdT(op) ; it is identical with" the a?)/3 ylrv^ri of Anax- DIOGENES OF APOLLONLV, AliCHELAUS, ETC. 53 imenes.^ Hence, it is merely the higliest kind of matter and, consequently, not absolutely opposed to it as in spirit- vialism proper. The dualistic conception is, as yet, only vaguely detined in the system of Anaxagoras, Avho finds it hard to cut loose from the materialism of the physicists. This is evident from the fact that Archelaus, liis disciple, considers the vou though protending to distinguish between them {De anima. T., 2). 2 Aristotle, Met, T., 4, 7. Cf., Plato, Phmlo, 97 B. 3 Simplicius, In Ph/s., 82, 83; Diog. L., IX. ; [Fragmenfa, coll. by Schorn, Bonn, 1829] ; IMullaeh, T.. pp. 252 ff. : [Bitter and Preller, pp. 172 ff. ; Burnet, r)^. 8ni f . ; Schlci^rmacher, Ufihei^ Diof/p.nes von Apol Ionia (Works, part TIL, vol. 2, Berlin, 1888) ; Panzerbieter, De Diog A. vita et scrijjtis, Meiningen, 1823. — Tr.]. 54 GREEK PHILOSOPHY principle, is wholly dependent on air. This is proved by the fact that the spirit leaves the body as soon as the breatli is taken away. Hence we cannot say that air is the product of mind or thought ; nay, the reverse is true, mind is the product of air. Without air there can be no life, no consciousness, no intelligence ; hence air, that is, matter, is the only principle. Intelligence is not a distinct sub- stance, but an attribute of air. It is obvious, says Dio- genes, that the principle we assume is both great and mighty and eternal and undying and of great knowledge (^/leya /cal ir) ^), that the gods were heroes, kings, and distinguished men who had been deified after their death. This theory proved very acceptable to a great number of liomans, and even Christians, who rejoiced at having paganism furnish them with such powerful weapons against itself. However narrow this view may seem, it has the merit of being one of the first attempts at a science which it has been left to our age to study and develop : I mean the philosophy of religion. Hedonism passes through a process of evolution which may, at first sight, seem surprising, but wliich is no more than natural ; it changes into pessimism in the pliilosophy of Hegesias,* called 'Treiai6dvaTo<=; (" persuader to die "). This evolution was the logical outcome of the hedonistic principle. The aim of life is, according to the Cyrenaic school, pleasure; the sensation of the moment (rjBovr) iv KLvrjaeL), according to some, permanent pleasure or happi- ness (x«/3ct, evhaipLovLo)^ according to others. Now experi- ence proves that life affords more pain than pleasure, and 1 About 310 B. c. ; a contemporary and protege of Demetrius of Phalerus and of Ptolemy I. [Fragments of the Cyrenaics in MuUach, TI., pp. 397 ff. ; Ritter and Preller, 207 ff . — Tr.] * 2 About 310 B. c. 2 Fragments preserved by Diodorus and Eusebius. ^ A contemporary of Ptolemy I. ARISTIPPUS, ANTISTHENES, EUCLIDES 73 that unallo3^ed happiness is a cbeam. Hence the end of life is not and cannot be realized. Life, therefore, has no value. As a consequence, death is preferable to life ; for death at least procures for us tlie only happiness possible to human beings, a negative happiness consisting in the absolute suppression of pain.^ This is the way in which Hegesias reasons, and all must reason who regard pleasure, joy, or happi]iess as the only end of life (TeXo^). Life has real value only for such as recognize a higher aim, namel}', moral goodness, the performance of duty, virtue for virtue's sake ; in other words, life has value only for him who con- siders it as a means and not as an end in itself, that is, in short, for the idealist. For him, virtue is the highest good. Now virtue can be realized only by living beings. Hence life itself, being the means and indispensable condition of virtue or of the highest good, is a relative good, and not the summum honum. Hence moral idealism necessarily ex- cludes pessimism. The hedonistic school, which again becomes optimistic in Anniceris of Cyrene,^ is continued by the school of Epi- curus,^ who supplements the ethics of Aristippus with the physics of Democritus. 2. Antisthekes.* — The idealistic teachings of Socrates are reproduced and exaggerated by Antisthenes of Athens, the founder of the Cynic school. The school was named after the gymnasium of Kynosarges^ where Antisthenes delivered his lectures. Its motto is : Virtue for virtue's sake ; Virtue is the final and only goal of all our actions ; ^ Cicero, Tusc, I., 34 : A malls mors ahducit. 2 About 300 B. c. See Diog. L., IT., 93 if. 3 §19. 4 Diog. L., VI. ; [for A. and his school, see also, Mullach, II., pp. 261 if. ; Ritter and Preller, pp. 216 if. ; Duemmler, Antisthenicay Ilalle, 1882. — Tr.] 74 GREEK PHlLOSOrilY Virtue is the highest good. The Cynics, his successors, go so far in their enthusiasm as to prochxim tlie doctrine that pleasure is an evil ; that man cannot be virtuous unless he renounces all material and even intellectual pleasures ; they even reject mental culture and philosophy itself as evils. Despising, as they did, tlie pleasures of social life, they came to violate the simplest rules of politeness, and, in principle at least, rehelled against the laws themselves. For a life of refinement and civilization these "• Kousseaus of antiquity " substitute the state of nature ; cosmopolitanism takes the place of patriotism. The principle of individual autonomy, which had been ]^)roclaimed by the Sopliists and by Socrates, passes from theory into practice. Not all the Cynics, however, are radicals. We must make allowances in the Avell-known history of Diogenes of Sinoj)e,^ the dis- ciple of Antisthenes, for popular malice, which naturally goes to extremes, and is apt to culminate in caricature. The moral idealism of Antisthenes, which was disfigured by the exaggerations of some of the Cynic philosophers, reap- peared in a new and purer form in the doctrines of Zeno and the Stoics. 3. EucLrDES,^ the founder of the school of Megara, made the fiist attempt to give the ethical s^^stem of the master a metaphysical support, which he finds in tlie phil- osophy of the Eleatics. He accepts tlie teaching of Par- menides that being is one, and the Socratic notion concern- ing the reality of the vou^ and of moral })rinciples. From these premises he boldly draws the conclusion, which was again advanced by Fichte in modern times, that mind or goodness is being, the only absolutely-existing being. All * [Goettling, Diogenes der Kyniker oder die Philosnplne des grieschi- schefi Proletariats (Geschichtl. Abliandlgii., vol. I.), Halle, 1851. — Tr.] 2 Diog. L., II. [Ritter and Preller, pp. 223 ff. ; Mallet, Histoire de Vecole de Megare, etc., Paris, 1845. — Tr.] PLATO 75 we know of P]iiclides is suinmecl up in this sentence. But this alone assures him a distinguished place among the Attic philosophers ; his system forms the connecting link between Socrates and Plato. The school of Megara, which Stilpo ^ made famous, and that of Elis, wliich was founded by Phtedo,^ the favorite pupil of Socrates, devoted themselves to the development of eristic dialectics, but soon found themselves eclipsed by the schools of Plato, Aristotle, Epicurus, and Zeno. During the first period, philosophical interest was cen- tered upon nature and the problem of becoming. Spec- ulative Socrtiticism inaugurates the era of the philoso})hy of mind, which predominates in the second period, and in turn becomes (A) idealism, (B) materialism and eudai- monism, and (C) concrete spiritualism, according as it re- gards as the essence and highest aim of our being, thought (Plato and Aristotle), sensation (Epicurus), or voluntary action (Stoicism). A. Negation of Matter. Apotheosis of Thought § IG. Plato Plato of Athens was born of a nol^le family, about 427. He received his first instruction from Cratylus, the disciple of Heraclitus, then became a pupil of Socrates, and later of Euclides of Megara, who introduced him to the study of Parmenides. The mathematical speculations of the Pytha- goreans also exerted a decided influence upon the develop- ment of his thought. From 385 to the close of his life (347), he taught philosophy in the Academy, a place wliich was presented to him by generous friends and for centuries remained in possession of the Platonic school. 1 Diog. L., II. ; Seneca, Ep, IX. 2 Diog. L., loc. cit. 76 GREEK PHILOSOPHY It is not a matter of indifference, says a great writer,^ by which door we enter life. Socrates, the child of a family of artisans and himself an artisan during his younger days, took pleasure in mingling with the crowd whose follies he despised, and endeavored to instruct, elevate, and ennoble them. Plato, the descendant of Codrus and of Solon, was by birth predestined to become the author of the aristocratic BepuUic, the idealistic philosopher, for whom form is every- thing and matter a contamination, an obstacle, and a check ; the poet-prophet who will have nothing to do with vulgar reality, and whose home is in the realms of the eternal, the absolute, and the ideal ; the favorite teacher of the Fathers of the Church, the theosophists, and the mys- tics. Socrates exercises a somewhat prosy cautiousness in his thought. He is not willing to take any risks, he avoids hypothesis and the unknown. The philosophy of Plato is conspicuous for its bold imprudence, its love of adventure and mystery. His speculation is not like the Philistine whose life is spent in the market-place or in the workshop, and whose world is measured by the narrow boundaries of his native town ; it is the lord of the manor, who retires to his mansion, after having seen the world, and turns his gaze towards the distant horizon ; disdaining the noise of the cross-roads, he mingles only in the best society, where is heard the most elegant, the noblest, and the loftiest language that has ever been spoken in the home of the Muses. Plato is the oldest Greek pliilosopher whose writings have been preserved, and the only one of whom we possess the complete works .^ Of the treatises attributed to him by 1 Goethe. * The principal modern editions of Plato's Complete Works: The Bipontine edition, Zweibriicken, 1781-87 ; Tauchnitz, Leipsic, 1813 ff. ; Bekker, Berlin, 1816-23, London, 1826 ; F. Ast, Leipsic, 1819-32 ; Stallbaum, Leipsic, 1821 ff. ; Baiter, Orelli, and Winckelmann, Zurich, PLATO 77 tradition some are surely spurious ; others, like the Par- menides, the Sophist, the Cratylus, and the Philebus, are of doubtful origin. Criticism has also, but without just grounds, questioned the authorship of the Apology and the Crito. The writings whose genuineness is beyond doubt are nine in number, namely: (1) The Phcedrus, which opposes the selfish rhetoric of the Sophists with the true eloquence of the philosopher, whose chief object is the knowledge of the invisible world; (2) the Protagoras, or the Socratic doctrine of virtue ; (3) the Symposium, or con- cerning the different manifestations of the eras, from sensual love to the philosopliical love of beauty, truth, and good- ness, as this was personified in Socrates ; (4) the Gorgias, the true sage as opposed to the Sophist; (5) the Republic, or concerning the State which realizes the idea of justice ; (6) the Timceus, or concerning the nature and origin of the 1839-42; Ch. Schneider (Greek and Latin), Paris, 1846-56 fP. ; K. F- Hermann, Leipsic, 1851-53 ; [Schanz, Leipsic, 1875 if. Hitter and Preller, pp. 233 ff.]. \^The Dialogues of Plato. Translated into English, tvith Analyses and Introductions, by B. Jowett, 4 vols., Oxford, 1871 ; 3d ed. revised and corrected, 5 vols.. New York and London, 1892 ; Platans Werke, Ger- man transl. by Schleiermacher, 3d ed., Berlin, 1855-62 ; also by H. Miiller, 8 vols., Leipsic, 1850-G6. — Tr.] ; Plato's Works, French transl. by V. Cousin, 8 vols., Paris, 1825-40. For Plato and his writings, consult: [Ast, Platons Lehen und Schriften, Leipsic, 1816 ; K. F. Hermann, Geschichte und System der platonischen Philosophie, Heidelberg, 1839] ; Grote, Plato and the other Companions of Socrates, 3 vols., London, 1865 [new ed. 1885], also the same author's History of Greece ; Schaarschmidt, Die Sammlung der platonischen Schriften, Bonn, 1866 ; Fouillee, La philosophie de Platon. Exposition, histoire, et critique de la theorie des idees, 2d ed., Paris, 1888-89 ; [Chaignet, La vie et les ecrits de Platon, Paris, 1871 ; Benard, Platon. Sa philosophie, precedee d'un aper^u de sa vie et de ses ecrits, Paris, 1892 ; Huit, La vie et Vceuvre de Platon, 2 vols., Paris, 1893 ; Pater, Plato and Platonism, New York and London, 1893; Van Oordt, Plato and his limes, Oxford and the Hague, 1895 ; B. Bosanquet, A Companion to Plato's Republic, New York, 1895]. 78 GREEK PHILOSOPHY world ; (7) the Thecetetus, or concerning knowledge and Ideas ; (8) the Phcedo^ or concerning the immortality of the soul; (9) the Laws^ a work which seems to be a partial retraction of the Republic. These treatises are dialogues.^ Socrates is the chief spokesman in the majority of them, and his speeches reflect the author's thought most faith- fully. His use of the dialogue-form enables Plato to present us with liis own philosophy as well as with the his- tory of its origin, or the manner in which it arose among the Socratics. It is true, the dialogue-form may perhaps be objected to on the ground that it hinders us from ob- taining a comprehensive view of the author's philosopliy ; indeed, the statement has been made that it is so difficult to systematize Plato's teachings because of his use of the dialogue. The reverse seems to be the case ; in our opin- ion Plato employs this form precisely because he has no finished system like Plotinus, Spinoza, and Hegel. The dialogue might be regarded as an unsuitable method of exposition in case it concealed the philosopher's thoughts. But it hides nothing ; form and content are here the same, and the dialogues of Plato present his philosophy in its psychological development.^ A real difficulty, however, arises from the frequent use of myths and allegories. Plato employs them, either in order to assist his readers in understanding abstract truths, or in order to mislead the fanatical democracy as to 1 Regarding the difficult question as to the chronological order of the dialogues of Plato, consult the Introductions of Schleiermacher, the German translator of Plato, and the investigations of Socher, Ast, K, r. Hermann, Bonitz, Zeller, Susemihl, Suckow, Munck, Ueberweg, [Schaarschmidt, Teichmiiller, and Siebeck ; also, Horn, Plato}istudien, Vienna, 1893. — Tii.]. 2 Concerning the genesis of Platonism, see Karl Joel, Zur ErTcennt- niss der geistigen Entioickelung und der schriJlstelleriscTien Motive Plato's^ Berlin, 1887 (reviewed by M. Reinach in the Revue critique, Ausf. 22, 1887). PLATO 79 his religious convictions,^ or, finally, in order to hide the contradictions of his thought and to escape philosophical criticism by seeking refuge in the licence of the poet. Most of the Platonic myths are mere allegories, which, as the author himself cautions us, must be taken for what they are worth. Some of them, however, seem to express the philosopher's real views. Hence the difficulty wliich we experience in the Timcetis and the Plicedo^ of distinguish- ing cleg-rly between the pedagogical element and the teach- ing itself, between the accidental and the essential, between the poetical symbol and the real meaning. Though Plato himself gives us an allegorical exposition of the drama of creation in his Timceios^ does it therefore follow that the idea of creation is absolutely foreign to liis mind? When he speaks of a creator and follows popular fancy in pictur- ing him as a liuman workman, does that mean that theism is not the essential element of his thought? The Flicvdo^ too, is full of mythological allegories, but who would have the boldness to declare, with Hegel, that Plato assumed pre-existence and immortality only for the world-soul and the divine vov^ ? We must, in choosing between the idea and the form, — a delicate and rather difficult task, — avoid two contrary conceptions, both of which our historical sense would compel us to reject. In the first place, we must not be deceived by Plato's symbolism ; we must not lay too much stress on what is l)ut a literary form, and mistake mere figures of speech for the hidden meaning of things. But we must also abandon the notion that l^lato was too great a man to be influenced in his reason by the imagi- nation. We have no rio-ht to make him a Christian or a modern philosopher. It is undoubtedly true that Catholic mysticism borrows extensively from Platonic theology, and it is equally certain that Plato's dialectics contain the rudi- 1 Timceus, 28 C, 29 C-D. 80 GREEK PHILOSOPHY ments of the Hegelian system. But twenty centuries of development lie between the sowing of the seed and the full fruition, and we cannot identify the beginning and the end without anachronism. It is not enough to point out that the future is contained in the past ; we must also in- dicate in what form it is found there, and show that this is not the final stage of evolution. Plato is the product of Heraclitian, Socratic, and Italian philosophy. With the school of Heraclitus he believes that the visible universe is in a state of perj^etual change, that the senses are deceptive and cannot yield us truth, that the immutable does not exist in the world of sense, but in the world of ideas. From Socrates he learned that though we cannot know the ultimate principles of the universe, we can at least know ourselves, and that we can attain to a knowl- edge of the highest good tlu^ough an infallible inner sense. But Socrates remained a sceptic as far as metaphysics v^as concerned. The Italic philosophy induced Plato to take a decisive step. In the Pythagorean and Eleatic systems he finds the inner sense (of Socrates) proclaimed, not only as the moral conscience and practical reason, but as theoretical reason, capable of revealing to us the absolute, eternal, and necessary essence of things. In mathematics and its self-evident axioms he discovers the most powerful weapon against the iroLvra pet^ in the sense in which Cratylus and the Sophists applied the principle. Geometry made a particularly deep impres- sion upon him : the geometrical method served as a model for his metaphysics. Indeed, he even borrowed his philo- sophical vocabulary from this science. Geometry is based on a iwiori intuitions ; lines, triangles, circles, and spheres, are ideal figures or intelligible realities ; their properties remain the same forever, and survive all the changes of the material world which reflects them. It is a rational science and has nothing to do with sense-perception, of PLATO 81 which its trutlis are absolutely independent. Hence Plato's philosophy is, like matliematics^ the only self-evident and , necessary science, a science of a priori intuition and rea- / soning. Because of their resemblance to the principles of geometry, these a priori intuitions, upon which the sys- tem is grounded, are called Ideas (ecSr]^ ISeat), or unchano-e- able forms, or the eternal types of fleeting things, or nou- mena (voov/jueva)^ the objects of true science (iTnarrj/jir]) as distinguished from phenomena, the objects of sense-percep- tion {aLa6r]at<;) and opinion (ho^a). The philosophy of Plato is the science of Ideas, It is called dialectics after its new method. To this science of fkst principles, which is the fundamental and only science worthy of the name, is added the theoTTj of nature {(^vcnKrj). The latter, however, is of secondary importance, and does not deserve the name of science. Ethics^ or the science of the highest good, is the last branch of dialectics and the crown of philosophy. Hence we have to consider with Plato ; (1) The Idea as such ; (2) the Idea acting upon matter as a plastic principle, or nature ; and (3) the Idea as the final goal of nature, or the liighest good. 1. The IdeaI When we compare the mother who gives up her life for her child, the warrior who dies in defence of his country, and the philosopher who sacrifices himself for his convic- tions, we notice a similarity in their actions ; they have the same common trait, and reproduce one and the same type, — the Idea of the good. When we compare a mas- terpiece of architecture or of sculpture with a tragedy of Sophocles and a beautiful human form, we discover in 1 For Plato's dialectics and ideology, see especially the Thecetetus (151 if.), the Sophist (218 ff.), the Philehus (15, 54, 58 ff.), Parmenides (130 ff.), and the Republic (especially Looks VI. and VII.). 6 /^ 82 GREEK PHILOSOPHY' these apparently different objects a common trait, — beauty, or tlie Idea of the beautifid. When we compare the indi- viduals of a species, say the liuman race, we find in them a number of qualities common to all, an identical type ; these common characteristics, or the type which is repro- duced in all, constitute man-in-himself (avrodvOpcoTro^i)^ or the Idea of man. Finally, when we compare all the beings perceived by our senses, we notice that all have this in common : they exist or do not exist, the}^ move or are at rest, they are identical or they differ from each otlier. Now, this hcing^ shared by all, this non-heing^ or movement, or rest, or identity, or difference, is wliat Plato calls the Idea of beino-, the Idea of movement, etc. Hence he un- derstands by the term Ideas (ecSj], iheat) : (1) what modern philosophy calls laws of thought, morality, or taste (ISeat) ; (2) what Aristotle calls categories, or the general forms by means of which we conceive things, and which are em- braced under the preceding class ('yevrj) ; (3) what natural science calls types, species, or, as Plato would say. Ideas (etSr] proper). In short, he means by Ideas all possible generalizations ; there are as many of them as there are common niimes. Every common name designates an Idea, as every proper name designates an individual. The senses reveal particulars, or natural ol)jects; abstraction and generalization {eira^w^-q) give us Ideas. The great mission of Socrates was to form general ideas. But, like the sensationalistic school, which he opposed in other respects, Socrates simply regarded these ideas as thoughts or concepts of the mind {ivvoTj/jLara). At this point Plato shows his originality. According to sensualism, our sense-j^erceptions alone represent real beings existing out- side of us. According to I'lato, general notions or concepts also represent realities, and these realities, these objects of our notions, which sensualism denies, he calls Ideas. Ideas are to our notions what natural objects are to our sense- PLATO 83 perceptions : thoy are their objective causes. The objects which the dece jtive and vulgar organs of sense present to us we regard as real objects ; while the Ideas which we acquire through reason, the messenger of the gods, are looked upon by us as fleeting shadows that come and go with self-consciousness ! If we consider sensible objects as real, liow much greater reason have we to assume the reality of the objects of the intellect ! The general Ideas, expressed by our concepts, Good, Being, Identity, Man, etc., are therefore realities. Hence the name realism was inaptly applied to mediaeval Platonism, which is diametri- cally opposed to modern realism. Platonic realism is thorough-going idealism, the theory which conceives Ideas as real beings. What ! Shall we say, Ideas are real beings ; the Idea of being, more real than being ; the Idea of the sun as real and even more real than the sun which shines upon us from the heavens ; the Idea of man as real, and even much more real than Socrates, Antisthenes, and Euclides ! Com- mon-sense rebels against such paradoxes. Socrates I see, but I do not see the man-type ; I see beautiful men, beau- tiful statues, and beautiful paintings ; I do not see the beautiful as such. I see moving bodies; I do not see motion as such, or the Idea of movement; I see living beings, but being or life in itself I cannot see anywhere. All these generalizations exist only in my mind, and have nothing real corresponding to them. Plato answers such objections by saying that when the sensualist sees beauti- ful objects and just acts, and fails to perceive beauty as such, or justice as such, it is because he has the sense for the former, while his sense for Ideas or his reason is at fault. If this were sufficiently developed, it would no longer see the real reality {to 6vtco<; 6v) in material exist- ence, but in the Ideas ; it would look for reality, not in the world of sense, but in llie intelligible world. We 84 GREEK PHILOSOPHY consider general Ideas as the mental copies of sensible beings, whose reality we assume. The reverse is true ; the Ideas are the models or the originals, and the natural beings or the incUviduals are the copies. The Ideas are both our thoughts (Xojol) and the eternal objects (ra ovra) of these thoughts ; they are the thoughts of God, which no human intelligence can wholly reproduce, but which are none the less real, absolutely real. Let us take the Idea of the beautiful, or beauty absolute (avTo TO Kokov). For the sensationalist, the beautiful, like the good and the just, is a quality which we abstract in thought (^ahstrahere} from the sensible objects, and which does not exist apart from these objects. For Plato, the beautiful is a reality ; it is not only real, but much more real than all the beautiful things put together. Whatever endures is more lasting and therefore more real than that which passes away. Now, every beautiful object, be it a man or a statue, an act or an individual, is doomed to destruction and oblivion; beauty in itself is imperishable. Hence it must be more real than all the things the sensationalist calls beautiful. So, too, the type of man is more real than the particular man, because it remains unchanged, while the individual passes away ; the Idea of the tree or flower is more real than a particular tree or a particular flower, because it endures. The Idea is what it expresses ; it is this ahsolutely and without qualiiication ; all we can say of the sensible object is that it has something of what the Idea ^s, that it partakes of it (yueTe;\;et), while the Idea is undivided being. Let us again inquire into the beautiful, which is Plato's favorite Idea,^ and which he loves to identify with the good. Its manifestations in the sensible world are only relatively beautiful, that is, as compared with ugly objects ; ^ Symposium, 2111f. PLATO 85 they are not beautiful when we compare them with more beautiful things. Tliey are fair to-day, foul to-morrow; fair at one place, or in one relation, or in one point of view, or to one [)crson ; foul under different circumstances and in the judgment of other persons. Hence everything in the world of phenomenal beauty is relative, fleeting, and uncer- tain. Ideal beauty {auro to koXov) is ever-lasting ; Avithout beginning and without end ; without tUminution and with- out decay; invariable, immutable, and absolute {jiovoethh ad 6v) ; it is beautiful in all its relations and from all points of view ; it is beautiful at all times and in all places and for all persons ; it is pure and clear and unalloyed, and therefore transcends the powers of the imagination {elXcKpive^, dfjLLKTov^ KaOapov). It is neither a mere notion nor purely individual knowledge {ovhe rk Xoyo^; ov8e rk iTnarrj/jLT)}^ but an eternal reality. What is true of the beautiful is true of the great and the small, and of all Ideas in general. Simmias is tall as com- pared with Socrates, but small by the side of Pliaedo. The Idea of the great is great in all points of view ; it is abso- lutely great. Hence to sum uj) : (1) The Ideas are 7ral beings; (2) the Ideas are moi^e real than the objects of sense ; (3) the Ideas are the only true realities ; the ob- jects of sense possess a merely borrowed existence, a reality which they receive from the Ideas. The Ideas are the eternal patterns (TrapaSeLj/jLara) after which the things of sense are made ; the latter are the images (ei'ScoXa), the imitations, the imperfect copies (o/jLOLco/jLara^ fjLtixrjaei^; ^). The entire sensible Avorld is nothing but a symbol, an allegory, or a figure of speech. The mean- ing, the Idea expressed by the thing, alone concerns the philosopher. His interest in the sensible world is like our interest in the portrait of a friend of whose living presence we are deprived. 1 Parmenides, 132 ; Timceus, 48. 86 GREEK PHILOSOPHY The world of sense is the coj^y of the world of Ideas ; and conversely, the world of Ideas resembles its image ; it forms a hierarchy. In our visible world there is a grada- tion of beings from the most imperfect creature to the perfect, sensible being, or the universe. The same holds true of tlie intelligible realm or the pattern of the world ; the Ideas are joined together by means of other Ideas of a higher order ; the latter, in turn, are embraced under others still more exalted, and so on ; the Ideas constantly increase in generality and force, until we reach the top, the last, the liighest, the most powerful Idea or the Good, which com- prehends, contains, or summarizes the entire system, just as the visible universe, its copy, comprehends, contains, or summarizes all creatures. The relation existing between the Ideas and the liighest Idea is analogous to that exist- ing between objects of sense and Ideas. The objects, as we have said, 2^art alee of the Ideas which they express ; ^ they exist, not in themselves, but as reflections of their Ideas ; they have no reality other than that which they receive from these Ideas ; the}^ are, in short, to these Ideas what accidents are to substances. Similarly, the Ideas of a lower order exist by themselves and as substances, only as compared to their ^dsible copies. As compared to the highest Ideas, they cease to be substances ; they become modes of the only really ahsolute Idea, the Idea of the Good ; in the presence of tliis sun of the intelligible world, their individuality passes away as the stars vanish at the coming of the orb of day. Hence the Ideas are both individual or self-existent atoms and members of a liigher unity. Plato himseK emphasizes the principle of the unity and connection of Ideas at the expense of their individuality; his dis- ciples, on the other hand, seem to lay more stress on the 1 Phcedo, 100. PLATO 87 atomic and hypostatic character of the Ideas than on their unity.i The clear and transimrent Ideas of the master are, to use a figure of speech, precipitated by the school, and the Lyceum consequently censures the Academy for adcUng to the material world another wholly useless material world. The Ideas of Plato form a unity or an organism ; they live a common life ; and it is utterly impossible to separate them from each other and to make distinct beings of them.2 Indeed, they are independent of all time and space, that is, of the principle of separation and individuali- zation. It is true, Plato speaks of the heavens as their abode, whither we must rise in order to contemplate them in their divine purity .^ But tliis heaven is not a part of the physical universe. The home of the Ideas is not the same as that of the things (atcr^T/ro? totto^) ; it is sui gen- eris^ a place suitable to the nature of the Ideas, an ideal, intelligible place (vot]to^ totto^;) ; the home of the Ideas is mind (z^ou?), that is, the Idea as such. The Idea has no place outside of itself ; it does not, like the atoms of Demo- critus. exist by virtue of empty space, but b}^ itself (avrb KaO' avTo). A prouder challenge could not be hurled at materialism : Space which you conceive as a conchtion of reality is quite the reverse ; it is the cause of non-being and impotence. The Idea is real because it is one and unexiended, and because unity is force, power, or reality. Now, that which is concentrated in the Idea as in a mathe- matical point, is distributed in space and time, scat- tered over a thousand places and a thousand different moments, and consequently enfeebled, impoverished, and 1 This substantialization of the Ideas is already noticeable in the Sophist, and has been regarded by some as an argument against the genuineness of the dialogue. (See Schaarschmidt, in the work cited above.) 2 Meno, 81. 3 Phcedrus, 247. 88 GKEEK PHILOSOPHY relatively destroyed (fjir] 6v). Compared with the Idea, which you regard as a poor reflection of the real world, your supposed real world is itself hut an Idea in the vulgar sense which you attach to the word, that is, a shadow, a nothing. The world is the relative; the Idea, the absolute {KaO' avro 6v). If the Idea is the absolute, what is God, to whom Plato often refers, and, as it seems, refers in different senses, sometimes using the plural, sometimes the singular ? In the Timcvus^^ the Creator (6 Sri/jiLoupyo^) is spoken of as the eternal God (cov ad 6e6^^ 6 6e6^) ; his immediate creatures (the stars and the celestial spirits) are called deoi^ Oeol Oewv^ ovpdvLov Oeoiv yevo^ ; while the sensible universe is a god in process of becoming {icro/jievo^ ^eo?). Evidently, the god wJio is to he and the created divinities are accommodations to official polytheism, and the Creator is the only true God. But even this highest God does not seem to be absolute ; in creating the universe he contemplates the eternal (to atSiov), which serves as his model. Now, the Idea or the Good is the eternal. Hence the Creator is dependent on the Idea as the copyist depends on the pattern which he follows. In order that the Creator may be the Supreme Being or the absolute, the model must be the Idea in itself or the Good personified. The assumption of an intermediate principle is apparently a necessary consequence of Plato's dualism between Idea and matter, while the conception of the Demiurge as a workman following a pattern forms a part of the mythical element in the narrative ; the Creator and the pattern of creation are merged in the creative Idea, of which the Demiurge is the poetical personification. God and the Idea are so closely identified in Plato that it seems at times as though God depended on the Idea, at others, as though the Idea sprang from God as the eternal source of 1 TimcEus, 28, 34, 41, passim. TLATO 89 all things. Since God is sometimes represented as below and sometimes as above the Idea, nothing is left to us but to take the middle ground and to say that tlie God of Plato is neither inferior nor superior to the Idea, but that he coincides with it, or that he is the Idea itself, considered as an active, plastic, and creative prinei})le. That the Platonic school identified God with the absolute Idea may be reachly inferred from the attributes which are ascribed to the Good and to the Supreme Being. A brief compari- son Avill suffice to convince us of this fact. The absolute Idea (the Good, tlie One) is the lord of the spiritual world, as the sun is the lord of the visible world.^ It even exceeds being and essence in dignity and power.^ It is the uni- versal author of all things beautiful and right, parent of light and of the lord of light in this visible world, and the immediate source of reason and truth in the intellectual. On the other hand, the God of gods is represented to us as the eternal cause of the good in tlie world ; as the supreme wisdom, by the side of which all human philosophy is im- perfect ; as the supreme justice, law-giver, and highest law, who rules the beginning, the end, and the middle of things ; as the pure reason which has nothing to do with matter or with evil.^ Hence, there cannot be the least doubt that the God of Plato is the absolute Idea of the s^ood. Does that mean that because his god is an Idea he is not a reality ? On the contrary ; because he is an Idea, and nothing hut an Idea^ he is the highest reality ; for, from Plato's point of view, the Idea only is real. Now the Idea does not exist in space proper, but in the 1 Repuhlic, YJ, 508 D. ^ OvK ova'ias ovtus tov dyadov aX\' eVt eVe/cfii^a Trjs ovaias Trpfo-jSeia KOI ^vvajxet i>7rep6;(oin-os. ^ Repuhlic, VI, 506 ff. ; VII, 517 : JJavrcov avrrj (f) tov dyaOoii Idea) opowv re kol KoXatv alria . . . ovcria dibio^ ttJs t dyaQov ^ucrecas atVi'a . . . ep T€ opoTO) (pws . . . TfKoiaa, €V re votjtw . . . dXrjdciav, koI vovv Trapaa-vofiivrj. 90 GREEK I'HILOSOPHY intelligence which is its natural and, in a certain sense, its native abode. It cannot, therefore, come to us from with- out,^ and it is a mistake to derive it from sensation. The absolute Idea, and with it all the other Ideas, are original endowments of the mind ; they form its very essence. But they are at first latent in the mind, and we are not con- scious of them. The senses show us their external copies, and, to a certain extent, i^cmind us of the originals existing in us {avd/jLvr/a-L^). Sensation provokes Ideas; it does not 'produce them. Its function consists in recalling to our minds the a priori Ideas which we possess without suspect- ing it. Moreover, the senses are deceptive ; and instead of revealing the truth, they keep it from us. Reasoning {y6rjai<^) is the only road to truth ; and this springs from love (e/oo)?). The love of truth is but a particular form of universal love. The homesick soul, living in exile in the world of sense, fervently longs to be united with the ab- solute, to come face to face with the principle of light and truth. This pure and holy desire seeks for satisfaction in earthly emotions, in friendship and esthetic pleasure .^ But the human embodiments of the Idea, or the material incorporations of the Idea in art, do not satisfy it. It has need of the pure Idea, and this it strives to contemplate directly or immediately by means of pure thought. The enthusiasm of the lover and the artist is but a feeble begin- ning of the enthusiasm felt by the pliilosopher in the pres- ence of unveiled truth, ideal beauty, and absolute goodness. 1 Strictly speaking, it is not even correct to say : it cannot come to US, etc. ; we should say : the knowledge of ilie Idea, the notion {\6yos) cannot come to us. etc. ; for the Idea exists independently of the notions of our mind ; it is 6vhe riy Xoyo? oi'Se eTria-Trifxr] (p. 85) ; it neither comes nor goes ; all that comes to the mind, or becomes, or is formed, or is developed, is simply ouv concepts (evvorjfiaTa) , which, like the sensible things, are but shadowy copies of the eternal Ideas. — {Alle- gory of the Cave, Rep. VII. ) '^ Phccdrus, 242 ff. PLATO 91 Moreover, the philosopher need not boast of having attained this ideal goal, for absolute truth is in God alone. ^ God, who has absolute truth because he is absolute truth, and the uncultured man, who does not even suspect its exist- ence, do not search for truth ; the love of truth ((/)tXocro(/)ta) is peculiar to the man who is filled with light from on high. In spite of its mystical character, Plato's method is rationalistic in the strict sense of the term. There is no contradiction between the terms mystical and rationalistic. Rationalism and mysticism are extremes that meet. In fact, idealistic rationalism, and the deductive method pecu- liar to it, invariably presuppose as their starting-point the immediate and a priori perception of an absolute principle, a perception which we call mystical, precisely because it is immediate and unanalyzable. Platonic idealism, like its offshoots, the systems of Plotinus, Spinoza, and Schelling, begins with a mystical act and culminates in a religion.^ 2. Nature The transition from Idea to being, from metaphysics to physics, is not easy for Plato. If the Idea is self-sufficient, and if the intelligible world is a system of perfect beings^ what is the use of a sensible reality, that must of necessity be imperfect, alongside of the Idea ? What is the use of a material world that is inevitably doomed to evil ? What is the use of copies by the side of the original, of copies that cannot reproduce it in its divine purity ? The real world is evidently as great a source of trouble to Plato as it was to Parmenides. It cannot be explained by the Idea ^ PJicedrus, 278 : To fieu (ro(p6v . . . efxoiye fxeya eluai 8ok(2 koi 6((o yiovco Trpeneiu. 2 See Hartmann, Philosophy of the Unconsclom (translated by E. C. Thomas), the chapter entitled : On the Unconscious in Mysticism. 92 GKEEK PHILOSOPHY alone, but presupposes a second principle, which is no less real than mind: matter. Hence, when you assume the reality of the sensible world, you abandon the absolute monism of the Idea ; you confess that the Idea constitutes only a j)art of reality, and make concessions to sensualism and materialism. And yet the sensible world exists ; it is an undeniable and stubborn fact that has to be explained. Though full of imperfections, it is, after all, a sublime work of art, whose infinite harmonies inspire the idealist as Avell as the materialist with feelings of delight. The mind of man cannot wholly unravel the mysteries of the universe. Nevertheless, he should investigate it to the best of his abilit}^, and untiringly search for a satisfactory solution of the problem. Plato linds the key to the answer in the con- ception of divine goodness ; tliis enables his thought to pass from the ideal to the real.^ The Idea is the absolute good ; God is supreme goodness. Now the good or good- ness cannot but create the good. God is life, and life must create life. Hence God must create ; the Idea must reproduce itself. Inasmuch as the Idea is the only reality, there is nothing outside of it but non-being (ft?) 6v) . But, in so far as it is the highest reality, it is also the highest activity, the being that communicates itself to non-being. Hence, the Idea becomes a creator, a cause, a will, or a plastic principle in reference to non-being; so that non-being in turn be- comes like being {rotovro tl olov to 6V), and takes part in the absolute existence of the Idea {fcoivwvla^ ixede^is:). The non-being thus becomes the first matter out of which the Idea forms, after its own image, the most perfect, divine, and finished visible world possible : it becomes mat- ter (vXrj), as Plato's successors would say. According to Plato and idealism, matter is nothing corporeal; it is sometliing that may become so, through the plastic action 1 TimcEus, 29 E. PLATO 93 of the Idea. The body is a determinate, limited, qualified, and qualifiable thing; matter, considered as such and apart from the forms which the Idea impresses upon it, is the unlimited itself (to aTretpov) ; it is devoid of all positive attributes, and cannot therefore be designated by any posi- tive term, since every term determines ; it is the indefinable {aopiaTov)^ the formless (a/jLopcpov), the imperceptible [aopa- Tov'). But though in itself indeterminate, formless, and imperceptible, it may, through the plastic action of the Idea, receive all possible forms and determinations {irav- Sex^'i) ; it may become the mother of all sensible things (eV (S jLyverac to ylyvofMevov^ tcl iravTa Bexofievt])^ the uni- versal recipient [he^aiievrj] . It is identical with space and the place filled by bodies (%ft)/3a, totto?^). It is not the product of the Idea, the creature of God, for : (1) Being cannot produce non-being, and matter is non-being [pLi) 6v); (2) creation is action ; now, all action ^presupposes an object to be acted upon, or an object which suffers action (7ra- (Txov) ; hence the divine activity presupposes matter, and does not create it. Matter is the condition of the creative activity of the Idea (avvaiTLov)^ and therefore co-eternal with God. The eternity of matter does not detract from the supreme majesty of the Idea {^aaikeia) ; the Idea con- tinues to remain the highest being, while the eternal exist- ence of matter is equivalent to eternal non-being. But though eternal matter does not limit the Idea, Avhich as such is absolute, it does, none the less, limit its operation in the universe. Matter is both the conch tion sine qua own of the action of the Idea and its eternal obstruction. It is both the indispensable auxiliary and the irreconcilable foe of the creative Idea. True, it is passive, but its j)as- ^ Aristotle, Phys.^ IV. 2: Ai6 kol HXdrcov ttjv vXtjv koI ttjv x^P^^ aiiTO (f)r](Ttv eivai iv Toi Tiymlw . . . o/mo)? tov tottou koI ttjv x^pav to dvTo dneiprjvaTo. Cf . C. Bseuinker, Das Problem der Materie in der griechi- schen Philosophie, Miiiister, 1890. 94 GREEK PHILOSOPHY sivity does not consist in absolute non-interference. Its cooperation is resistance. It is formless and unlimited, and therefore opposes and resists the form, limitation, and finish which the eternal artist desires to give it ; this resistance manifests itself as inertia, weight, dispro- portion, ugliness, or stupidity. It is non-being or the perpetual negation of being, and consequently o])poses and resists everything positive, stable, and immutable, and for- ever destroys the works of God. It is the primary cause of the imperfection of tilings, of physical and moral evil, as well as of their instability, their constant change, and of all that is uncertain, perishable, and mortal in them. From the union of the ideal or paternal principle with the material or maternal principle springs the cosmos, the only son and image of the invisible Divinity (I'/o? yLovo<^evr(^^ elKcov Tov deov)^ the god that is to be {eaoixevo^ 6e6^\ the visible god (aladrjro^ ^eo?), whose relative perfection re- minds us of the Father of the Universe (Troir^r?)? Kal iraryp TOV iravTo^)^ the living animal (?'«o^'), that reproduces, as faithfully as it can, tlie eternal ideal animal (fwoz^ aihiov). This cosmos has (1) a body (acofjua) governed by necessity (apdyKT)) ; (2) a rational content, a purpose, or a meaning (i/oO?, ^^ov evvovv\ a final goal for which it Avas made, an end to realize (t6\o<;) ; and finally (3) a soul (-^v'^^rj, ^(pov efjLyjrvx^ov), the mysterious link which unites the contrary principles in the cosmos, and whose function it is to sub- ordinate the material world to the Idea, or to subject brutal necessity to reason, to adapt it to the final purpose of the Creator. The body of the universe has the shape of a sphere, which is the most beautiful form imaginable, and makes the world the most faithful image of its in- telligible archetype. It revolves upon its own axis and thus constantly returns to itself; hence it executes the most perfect movement, a movement which of all possible movements is most appropriate to the eternal repose of the PLATO 95 Idea and best symbolizes its immutability. It is perfect (reXeov) and not liable to old age (ayripcov) and disease {livocrov) ; for it comprehends all the forces of nature, and nothing- outside of it can hurt or destroy it. The universe cannot be eternal like the creative Idea ; hence God makes it eternal, so far as this is possible ; that is, he creates end- less time. The vov^ or mind of the universe, that is, the purpose revealed in its organization, or, in short, its final cause, is the most perfect possible reproduction (or as we should say nowadays, realization) of the Idea of the Good. Finally, the soul of the world consists of Number, which subjects chaotic matter to the laws of harmony and propor- tion (avaXoyia)} Atomistic materialism rejects final causes, and tlierefore opposes tlie view tliat the Avorld has a meaning, or that it realizes an idea. Platonic idealism takes the vov'i of Anaxagoras seriously, and explains tlie creation of the world wholly from the teleological point of Adew. It acknowledges the existence of physical causes, but it sub- ordinates them to final causes ; the former are the means or involuntary instruments of the latter. Thus, the ele- ments, in regard to wdiich Plato follows Empedocles, are explained teleologically : fire, as a means of vision, earth, as a means of tactile perception. Two other elements are needed as intermediaries betw^een tliese two extremes, that is, four in all, because the number four represents corporeal- ity. We have seen how Plato (who, like all true Pytha- goreans, is a geometrician above every tiling else) identifies matter and extension ; he is therefore forced, with the Eleatics, to reject the void, which, according to Democritus, exists alongside of matter. Since matter is identical with space, and since space is universally the same, the substances composing it are not heterogeneous, as Anaxagoras claimed ; the spaces, considered apart from their content, differ onl^ 1 Timceus, 28 B, 31 C, 34 A, 39 D, 41 A, 92 B. 96 GREEK PHILOSOPHY in their outward form, or in figure. In this case Plato, who usually follows Pythagoras, involuntarily agrees with Leucippus and Democritus. Matter is divided into homo- geneous corpuscles of different shapes. Only, these figures are not accidental like the forms of the atoms ; they are absolutely geometrical, that is, ideal, final, and providen- tial. The solid element is composed of cubes ; w^ater, of icosahedrons ; air, of octahedi'ons ; and ether, of pyramids. After fashioning the first matter with a view to its ulti- mate structure, the divine architect created the stars, first the fixed stars, then the planets, and then the earth ; all these beings are created gods and therefore mortal in themselves ; they were, however, endowed with immortal- ity through the goodness of the Creator. At his command, these divinities, particularly the earth, the most venerable of all, produced organized beings, and, chief among these, man, the paragon of creation, for whom everything on earth was made. Plants were formed in order to nourish him, ani- mals, in order to serve as a habitation for fallen human souls. Woman herself is a degeneration of man, the first-born son of Earth. Man is the epitome of the macrocosm ; his soul is endowed with reason and then incorporated in a body. Everything in this body is arranged according to a fixed plan and for a rational end. The head is the seat of reason and therefore round ; because this form is the most perfect of all and alone worthy of what is perfect. It is placed at the top of the body in order to direct the entire organism. The body has legs for locomotion, and arms with which to take hold of thincrs. The breast is the seat of the noble passions ; it is placed beneath the head in order that these passions may be under the rule of reason, but separated from the head by the neck, %o as not to be identi- fied with it. Finally, the coarser appetites reside in the abdomen and are separated from the noble passions by the PLATO 97 diaphragm. In order to ^ subject them to the rule of reason and the nobler passions, nature placed in this region the liver, a smooth, bright organ, which resembles a mirror and is intended to reflect the images of thoughts. It is com- posed of bitter and sweet substances ; by means of the former it restrains the disordered cravings, and discharges the latter when our desires conform to reason ; at certain times it also acquires the power of divination. Finally, there is also a moral reason for the great length of the in- testine which is coiled around itself ; this hinders the food from passing through the body too quickly, and conse- quently keeps the soul from having a constant and immod- erate desire for food, a desire which would stifle in it the love of wisdom and the voice of conscience. In short, the human body is, according to Platonism, a house of correc- tion and education, constructed and organized with a view to the moral perfection of the soul. The human soul, like the soul of the world from which it emanates, contains immortal elements and mortal ele- ments ; or rather, it combines them ; it is the union of the two, or the proportion according to which these two kinds of elements (Idea and matter) are united in the individual. Intelligence or reason {to XoytarLKov /ue/ao?) is the immortal part ; sensuality (to eTnOv/jLijTLKov), the mortal part, because it essentially depends on corporeal life ; will, energy, or courage (to dvfjLoeiSe^)^ is the union of the two, and consti- tutes the soul proper and its individuality. The immor- tality of the intelligent soul follows: (l)from its simplicity, which renders all decomposition impossible ; (2) from the 1 All these data are taken from the Timceus. AVe have reproduced them here and italicized these in order to's and for the purpose of's, simply to give the reader a classical sample of the theory of final causes in its application to nature. Though the theory contains a spark of truth, it has for centuries impeded the progress of the phy- sical sciences, by substituting the dreams of fancy for the observation of facts. 7 98 GREEK PHILOSOPHY goodness of the Creator ; (3) from the fact that it is the very principle of life, and a transition from being into non- being is impossible. The immortality of the intelligent soul is also proved by the philosopher's desire to be freed from the body and its fetters, and to come into direct com- munion with the intelligible world ; by the fact that life invariably and universally produces death, and death, a new life ; by the pre-existence of the soul, which is demon- strated by the doctrine of avdfiVT]a-L<; (if the soul has existed before the body, why should it not exist after its decom- position ?) ; by the relation existing between the soul and the Ideas (it conceives the intelligible, and must therefore be homogeneous with it and akin to it, that is, immortal, like its object) ; and finally, by the fact that it controls the body, which would be inconceivable if, as some Pythago- reans claim, it were but the resultant of the bodily func- tions. Immortality, however, is the prerogative of reason. The iTTidv/irjTi/cov cannot lay claim to it, and the will itself, in so far as it is bound to the organism, has no part in it.i In so far as the problem of the soul borders upon physics, it cannot be solved with absolute certainty. There is no science of passing things. The only certain science is the science of Ideas ; for Ideas alone are eternal and necessary. In the domain of physics we must content ourselves with probabilities ; science (inncrTrj^iT^) being impossible here, we are reduced to faith (^TTLarL^').'^ 3. The Highest Good Man is the end of nature, and the Idea the end of man. As a consistent idealist, Plato, like Antisthenes and the Cynics, finds the highest good, not in pleasure, but in man's most perfect likeness to God. Now, since God is 1 Phado, 61-107. 2 Timceus, 51, 52. PLATO 99 the Good or absolute Justice, we can resemble him only in justice (SiKaLoavvr]). It is impossible, says Socrates-Plato,^ that evils should pass away (for there must always remain something which is antagonistic to good). Having no place among the gods in heaven (eV ^eot?), of necessity they hover around the mortal nature and this earthly sphere (rovSe Tov tottov TreptiroXel i^ avd'yKT)';). Wherefore we ought to fly away from earth to heaven as quickly as we can (xPV ^vOevhe iKelae cj^evyecv ore rd'^Lo-Ta), and to fly away is to become like God, as far as this is possible (<^f7^ Se ofioiaxTi^ TO) dew Kara to hvvarov). Now God is never in any way unrighteous ; he is perfect righteousness ; and he of us who is the most righteous is most like him.^ Justice is the fundamental virtue, the mother of the virtues belone- ing to each of the three souls. For the intelligence it con- sists in the correctness of thought {aoLa) is a separate science ; it is co-ordinated with other sciences (second philosophy), and has a distinct subject-matter of its own : being as such, the absolute or God. But it is at the same time the universal science embracing all the specialties, because its object, God, embraces and contains the principles of all the sciences and the first causes of ^ For the lost works, see E. Heitz, Die verlorenen Schriften des Ari- stoteles, Leipsic, 1865, and Fragmenta Aristotelis, collegit iEm. Heitz, Paris, 1809. One, whose loss was much to be deplored, the treatise On the Constitution of Athens^ has recently been found (January, 1891) on a papyrus in the British Museum. Some of the extant works are mutilated and form a confused mixture of genuine texts and spurious commentaries. Some, like the Categories, the De interpretatione, the treatise De Melisso, XenopTiane et Gorgia, the Eiidemean Ethics, etc., are doubtful. Others, at last, like the De motu animalium, the (fyvato- yviafjLiKd, the (Economics, the Rhetoric to Alexander, etc., are certainly spurious. 108 GREEK PHILOSOPHY everything that exists {rj tmv irpwrcop ap^Mv koi alnoyv 0€(Opr]TLKrj).^ There was no doubt in Aristotle's mind as to the pos- sibility of science, which had been denied by the Sophists and the Sceptics. Man is the only being who partakes of the active intellect, that is, of God himself, and through him of the knowledge of the absolute ; man alone is en- dowed with speech. By means of language, we designate (/caTyyopovfiev) things as we conceive them ; by reason, we conceive them as they are. The general ways of designating things, or the parts of discourse (the categories of language and of grammar), correspond to the different forms according to which we conceive them, or to the cate- gories of the understanding (substance, quantity, quality, relation, place, time, position, mode of being, activity, pas- sivity), and these categories of the understanding in their turn signify the modes of being of the things themselves (KaTrjjoptaL rod 6vT0 elhei tuvto tovtol<;^^. In both cases the Idea is the formal cause, the motive Ciuse, and the final cause. There are then, ultimately, only two principles of things, — the Idea or form which causes them and at which they aim, and the matter of which they are made : €lSoopd^ to klvt^tlkov Kara Tov ToiTov). In addition to all these endowments of animal life, the human soul possesses the faculty of knowledge or reason (to StavorjTi/cov). Owing to this, man is the master- piece of nature, the most perfect organic being (ex^L 6 dvOpcoTTO^ TYjV (^vaiv d7roT6Te\ecriJL€V7]V^). He is the final goal (t€\o(;) at which nature aims throughout the advan- cing forms of the animal kingdom. Her failure to attain this goal immediately is due to the resistance of matter ; but, untiring in her efforts, she makes many attempts which come nearer and nearer to the final purpose for which she strives, until the end is finally realized. So, too, the young artist tries a thousand times before completely realizing his conception. The organic world therefore forms an ascending scale. The organisms and their corresponding souls are per- fected in the measure in which the ultimate purpose of the zoological development, the human species, pene- trates and overcomes inorganic matter.^ Corresponding to the elementary plant-soul we have an organism in which up and down are distinguishable, but in which there is no difference between front and back, right and left ; the plant has its mouth below (the root) and its genital apparatus above (the flower) ; it has no back or chest. A body corresponds to the animal soul, in which is found the double opposition between up and down, right and left. In man, at last, the up and down coin- cides^ with the absolute up and down. * Historia animalium^ IX., I. 2 The fundamental conception of comparative anatomy. ARISTOTLE 127 The animal kingdom is divided into two classes, one of which embraces sanguineous animals, viz., mammalians, birds, fishes, amphibia ; while the other consists of insects, crustaceans, testaceans, and mollusks.^ Warmtli is in- separable from life, and the relative perfection of an animal directly depends upon the amount of heat in it. Aristotle believes in spontaneous generation on a grand scale, altliough he denies it in the case of higher ani- mals. Owing to his ignorance of the facts established by modern geology in reference to the changes which the earth has undergone, he seems to assume the eternity of life and of species a jpartc ante as well as a 'parte post. The relation existing between the organized body and the soul, its vital principle, is the same as that existing be- tween matter and form, potentiality and actuality, capacity (Svva/jLL^) and function (eVreXe^em). Because of this inti- mate correlation, the organized body exists and lives only for tlie sake of the soul, wliich is its final cause or the pur- pose for which it exists (to ov eve/ca to crcofia) ; but the soul, too, is a reality only in so far as it animates something, in so far as it is the soul of a body, the energy of an organ- ism, the function of an instrument (ivTeXe'x^eia tov acofiaTo^;). Without the body the soul may, indeed, exist potentially (Svvd/jL€L\ but not actually or in reality (evepyeia). It is, according to Aristotle, as impressible to feel, to desire, and to Avill, without the necessary corporeal organs, as it is to walk without feet or to make a statue out of nothino- o {(Bahl^eiv civev ttoSmv, opav avev 6(f)6a\/jLa)v, avSpta<; avev XaXfcov^). The soul is to the body what cutting is to the axe ; the function of cutting would be the soul of the axe if the latter were a living being. Now, just as cutting is impossible without an axe, so too the constitutive functions of the soul are inseparable from the body. 1 De partihus animalium, I., 3. 2 De generatione animaliwn, IT., 3. Cf. Met., VII., 11, 11. 128 GREEK PHILOSOPHY From the relation obtaining between the organism and its vital principle, it necessarily follows, in the second place, that metempsychosis, or the doctrine according to which any soul may inhal)it any body, is impossible. Since the soul is the function of the body, or rather, the sum of its functions or the resultant of its forces, it is evident that its manifestations or acts (that is, in the last analysis, the soul itself, since it is essentially action and energy) are determined by the nature and special organization of the body which it animates. We cannot produce the tones of the flute by means of an anvil, nor the sound of an anvil by a flute. It is equally impossible to have a human soul in the body of a horse, and vice versa. The body is potentiality or capacity, and the soul its energy or function. The latter, again, is potentiality or capacity, or rather a sum of capacities (Svpafiet^) ; it con- sists of the capacities of feeling, perceiving, and willing, of which sensation, perception, and volition are the actions or energies. Hence the soul is the entelechy or primary function of an 07^ganizecl hodij^ and its manifestations or effects are the secondary functions or energies of this body.i In so far as the soul is sensation, imagination, memory, and will, it suffers the fate of all eartlily things ; it is perish- able ((f)dapT6^ 2). The intellect itself has a mortal part in addition to its immortal and divine element. The mortal part comprises the sum of our ideas in so far as these are determined by bodily impressions, that is, whatever the intellect receives, suffers, and does not create or bring forth. The entire passive side of the intelligence (vov^ 7ra6r}TiK6<;) shares the fate of the body, without which it cannot be conceived. Only the active intellect (vov<; irotrj- ^ De anima, II., 1 : Et dq tl kolvov en\ Trda-rjs "^vx^^ 5" 'Xeyeiv, ctr) civ fPTfXfx^'-^ 1 TrpcoTj; aafiaros (f)vcnKov opyaviKov- 2 De anbna, III., 5 : 'O Se 7ra6r\TiKos vovi cfiBapros. ARISTOTLE 129 tlk6<;\ the pure reason, which conceives the universal and the divine, enjoys the privilege of immortality ; for it alone cannot be exjjlained as a function of the body ; nay it is essentially different {-^vxH^i 76V09 erepov) and separable ('XjcopiaTov) from this, while the other faculties cannot be separated from it (ra Xolttcl /lopia rrj^ '\]rvxrj'i ovk eart Xfoptard 1). The active intellect is not a capacity, but an actual being (ovaia evep'yeia cov) ; it is not a product of nature, a result of the development of the soul, like sen- sibility, imagination, and memory ; it is not a product, an effect, or a creature at all, but an absolute principle (delov), that existed before the soul as well before the body, and was united with it mechanically {Ovpadev). This separate intellect (xcopiaro^) is absolutely immaterial (a/itY?;?), im- passive (aTra^T^?), imperishal^le, and eternal (a6avaT0(; icai atSio^) ; without it the passive and perishable intellect can- not think (dvev tovtou ovSev voel ^). This seeming immortality,^ with which Aristotle endows the soul, again disappears when we remember that not only does the active intellect not constitute the thinking indivi- dual, but that it does not even form a part of him, — that it comes from without (OvpaOev)^ and is not bound to the 7ne by any organic tie. It is hard to tell what Aristotle really means by this active intellect^ and the majority of his many commentators have exhausted their wits in trying to explain it. The logic of the system demands that we identify it with God himself; for its definition agrees, in every re- spect, with that of the al)solute voviroL^)^ with- out, however, participating in human passions. The Stoics ascribe providential love to the Infinite Being ; hence their teaching differs essentially from that of the Peripatetics and Epicureans {ovk aOdvaTov fxovov /cat /JLa/cdptov^ aWd koX (j)L\dv6pco7rov). Their pantheism, which does not exclude the notion of Providence, is essentially religious. They have a pious respect for the religious forms of paganism ; they grant the existence of gods who are inferior to Jupiter, and who are revealed either in the stars or in the forces of nature ; but they declare these gods to be mortal, and ascribe immortality to the Supreme Being alone. ^ 1 The Stoics of the different periods differ widely as to religion. The ancient Stoics are unenlightened enough to combat the heliocen- tric system in the name of religion, while the Roman Stoics are much more liberal, but not less accommodating. They look upon myths as allegories, the hidden meaning of which must be unravelled. Jupiter is the soul, but the intelligent soul, of the world. 144 GREEK PHILOSOPHY The Stoic system of physics is like that of Heraclitus ; it adopts the view that heat is the principle of life, the theory of the periodical conflagration and renewal of the world, and shows what an important part the struggle for ex- istence plays in nature. Inasmuch as the world is the body of the Deity, it is necessarily a perfect organism (reXeiov aoi^ia)^ and immaculately beautiful. Conversely, the per- fection of the universe proves that it envelopes an infinite Intelligence,^ which is not, it is true, a transcendent prin- ciple, like the God of Aristotle, who moves only the Empy- rean, but an omnipresent being like the human soul, which is present in all parts of the body. The evil in the world cannot shake the Stoic's faith in God ; for just as a false note may contribute to the general harmony, and as, in a picture, the shadows tend to relieve the light and the colors, so, too, the evil contributes to the realization of the good. In the struggle with injustice, cowardice, and in- temperance, justice, courage, and moderation shine with a brighter light. Instead of sliaking the faith of the Stoic in Providence, evil confirms it, for evil adds to the universal harmony. The details alone are imperfect ; the whole of things is supremely perfect. Man is to the God-universe what the spark is to the flame, the drop to the ocean. Our bod}^ is a fragment of universal matter ; our soul, a warm breath emanating from tlie soul of the world (Trveu/na evOepfiov). Since, from the Stoic point of view, reality is synonymous with cor- poreality, the soul too is matter. If it were not so, the reciprocal action between it and the body would be incon- ceivable. The incorporeal cannot act upon a body. The decomposition of the body does not necessarily involve the destruction of the soul ; and even if there be no here- after for all men, the soul of the sage at least, which is more vigorous than that of common mortals, survives death. 1 The physico-tlieological argument. STOICISM 145 But though it may exist beyond the grave, say for cen- turies, even the philosopher's soul is not immortal in the absolute sense ; for on the last day it will, like every- thing else in the world, disappear in the universal con- flagration {eKiTvpcoai^). Absolute immortality belongs to God alone. The fate wliich awaits the soul is not, how- ev^er, a destruction of its substance ; it will return to the infinite ocean whence it came.^ The Stoics had no fixed dogmas concerning theoretical questions like the above ; one might believe in immortality or not, without ceasing to be a disciple of the Stoa.^ What constituted the Stoic and united all the members of the school was the moral idealism which had been taught long before the times of Zeno by men like Socrates, Plato, and Antisthenes ; and their motto was virtue for virtue's sake. The highest good, according to Stoicism, is to practise vir- tue for its own sake, to do your duty because it is your duty; everything else, health, fortune, honors, pleasures, are indifferent (a8Ld(f)opa)^ and even bad, when they are the sole object of your strivings. Virtue alone makes us happy, provided we seek it in a disinterested manner. It does not consist merely in the outward performance of the good (to KaOij/cov)^ but in an habitual disposition of the soul (eft?, /caropdcofjLa). It is o)ie ; you cannot be virtuous in one re- spect and vicious in another. It is the connnon source of what we call the virtues, i. e., wisdom (cfypovrjai^), courage {avhpia), temperance (o-cocfypoavvr]), and justice (SiKatoavvr)). To possess one of these cardinal virtues is to possess them 1 For the Stoic metaphysics and physics, see Diog. L., YII. ; Stobaeus, Ed. I.; Cic, De nat. deor. ; De fato ; Seneca, Epistle 65, etc. ; Phitarch, De Stoic. Rep., 41 ff. [Cf. also vol. I. of L. Stein's work, cited, p. 140; Siebeck, Untersuclaingen, cited p. 59 ; M. Heinze, Die Lehre vom Logos, etc., Oldenburg, 1872. — Tr.] '^ Thus the school of Rhodes, a branch of the Athenian school, rejected the doctrine of final conflagration. 10 146 GREEK PHILOSOPHY all in principle ; not to have one of them means to have none. A man is good in all things (o-TrouSato?) or bad in all {(f)av\o<;). There is no mean between virtue and vice (afjLdpT7]/jLa). Theoretically, tliere are but two classes of men, the good and the bad, although in reality there seem to be shades, transitions, and compromises between good and evil. Happy is the sage, wlio, versed in the secrets of nature, knows himself and others ; whom this knowledge frees from the guardianship of men, the times, social preju- dices, and the laws themselves, in so far as tliey are the products of human caprice and not of reason {6p6b^ \6yo<^^ KOLvo^ X0709). He alone is truly free ; he has overcome the world as well as his own passions. Nothing can affect him nor make him falter ; neitlier the happenings of the woiid nor the storms in his own heart. Let come what come may, he is resigned; for everything is decreed by Nature and Fate ; and Nature and Fate are synonymous Avith Reason, Providence, and good Will.^ Hence, the supreme rule which he observes in all things : sequi na- turam^ to follow nature, that is, the law wliich nature enjoins upon conscience, and which is identical with the law that governs the world {aicoXovdco^ rfj ', p. 7), see Krische, Forschungen ; Herbart, Ueler die Philosophie des Cicero ( Works, vol. XII., pp. 107- 182) ; liirzel, Untersuchunyen zu Cicero'' s plnlosophischen Schriften, 3 Parts, Leipsic, 1877-83 ; Schmekel, Die Philosophie der mittleren Stoa, pp. 18-184 ; H. Durand de Laur, Mouvement de la pensee philoso- phique depuis Ciceron jusqu'a Tacite, Y ersailles, 1874 ; for Seneca (edition of Works, p. 7) see : F. Chr. Baur, Seneca und Pauhis, in Drei Abhandlungen zur Geschichte der alien Philosophic, ed. by Zeller, 1875; W. Ribbeck, L. A. Seneca der Philosoph, etc., Hanover, 1887; Light- foot, St. PauVs Episde to the Philippians, 4th ed., London, 1878. For Epictetus : ed. of the Aiarpi^al and 'Ey;^6iptStoi/ by Schweighauser, Leipsic, 1799-1800 ; Engl, transl. by T. W. Iligginson, Boston, 1865 ; Bonhofer, op. cit. For Marcus Aurelius : ed. of his Ta a? kwrov by Stich, Leipsic, 1882; Eng. tr. by (J. Long; Zeller, Marcus Aurelius Antoninus, in Vortrdge tend Abhandlungen, pp. 82-107 ; E. Kenan, Af. Aurelius et la Jin du monde antique, Paris, 1882; Watson, The Life ofM. Aurelius, London, 1884. — Tr.] 2 Diog. L., X., IX.; Sextus Emp., Hypot. Pyrrh., I.; Bitter and Preller, pp. 3G7 ff. ; [N. Maccoll, The Greek Sceptics, London and Cam- bridge, 1869; L. Haas, De phi/osophorum scepticorum successionibus, etc., AViirzburg, 1875; Waddington, Pyrrho et Pyrrhonisme, Paris, 1877; Hirzel, Untersuchungen zu Ciceros philos. Schriften {op. cit.); Natorp, Forschungen {pp. cit.y\ ; V. Brochard, Les sceptiques Grecs^ work crowned by the Academy of Moral and Political Sciences, Paris. 1887; [Sepp, Pyrrhonische Studien, Freising, 1893]. SCEPTICAL REACTION. PYRRHONISM 149 its inspirations ; according to the Epicureans, it frees us from superstition and the spiritualistic prejudices which destroy our happiness. Both schools agree that there is a criterion of truth. Peripatetic dogmatism is 023posed by the scepti- cal reaction wliich had been inaugurated by Democritus and Protagoras. Pyrrho of Elis,^ a contemporary of Aris- totle and a friend of Alexander the Great, represents this movement. He, too, like the Socratics and Epicurus and Zeno, his younger contemporaries, desires arapa^ca; but he does not believe that metaphysics can obtain it for us. There are, as a matter of fact, no two schools of philosophy that agree upon the essential problems. Hence, instead of procuring peace, the source of true happiness, speculation brings us trouble and uncertainty, and involves us in end- less contradictions. It is useless, because it causes disputes without end ; impossible, because we can, in every case, prove both the affirmative and the negative side (^avriXoyia, avTiOeai^ rcov Xoycov), The essence of things is incompre- hensible (a/cardXrjTrTo^;). Pyrrho's sage refrains from mak- ing dogmatic statements on either side ; he suspends his judgment as much as possible (iirexeiv^ iiroxv)^ ^nd l)e- wares against taking part in heated cUscussions. He avoids absolute negation as well as categorical affirmation, and therefore differs from the dogmatists, who affirm knowledge, and the Sophists, who demonstrate its impos- sibility. The physician TrMON,^ an admirer and friend of Pyrrho of Elis, published, among other sceptical writings, a satir- ical poem (Ot 2t\Xot), in which he emjiliasizes the contra- dictions of the metaphysicians from Thales to the Acad- emician Arcesilaus. Eusebius has preserved the fragments of this work in his Prccparatio evaiigelica. His doctrine 1 Born about 365. 2 Mullach, Timonis Phliasii fragment a, L, pp. 83 if. ; Wachsnmth, De Timone Phliasio cceterisque sillogmphis Grcecis, Leipsic, 1859. 150 GREEK PHILOSOPHY may be summarized in three paragraphs : (1) The dogmatic philosophers cannot prove their starting-point, which there- fore is merely hypothetical ; (2) it is impossible to have an objective knowledge of things : Ave know how they affect us, we shall never know what they are apart from our intelligence and our senses; (3) hence, in order to be happy, we must abandon barren speculations, and unre- servedly obey the law of nature. Pyrrhonism reminded the philosophers, in a pointed way, that the problem of certitude is a fundamental one. In consequence of the rivalry existing between the Academy and the younger dogmatic Stoic school, the sceptics soon found themselves established in the chair of Plato. The first appearance of the critical problem inaugurated the age of reason in Greece, its reappearance after the death of Aristotle marks the period of decline in Hellenic philos- ophy. § 21. Academic Scepticism The scepticism of the Academy is simply an exaggera- tion of the underlying principle of this school, and, in a measure, a return to the original sources. Scepticism, as we know, formed the starting-point of Socrates and Plato. The names of Arcesilaus and Carneades, the founders of the Middle and the New Academy, are connected with this movement. Arcesilaus of Pitane,^ the successor of the scholarch Crates, returns to the Socratic method. He does not set up a system of his own, but confines his efforts to developing the minds of his hearers ; he teaches them how to think for themselves, to investigate, to separate truth from error. His only dogma is : to assume nothing unconditionally. He was at first a critical philosopher, 1 In Aeolia, 318-244 ; Sources : Diog. L., IV. ; Sextus Emp., Hyp. Pyrrh., I. ; Adv. math., VII. ; Eitter and Preller, pp. 441 if. [See also, Hirzel and Schmekel, opera citata.^ ACADEIMIC SCEPTICISM 151 but the dogmatic opposition of Zeno drove liim into the arms of extreme scepticism. Zeno makes clear ideas (^cf)av- Taalat KardXr^irTiKaL^ the criterion of truth. Arcesihius, however, calls attention to the many illusions in which the senses involve us. Socrates had said : One thing alone I know, and that is that I know nothing. Arcesilaus exag- gerates his scepticism and declares : I do not even know that with certainty. He does not, however, deduce the final consequences of his principle. Certainty cannot be reached in metaphysics, but it is possible in the domain of ethics, in which he agrees with the Stoics. But his successors are logically compelled to extend their scep- ticism to ethics. The most consistent among them is Carneades,^ who differs in nothing from the Sophists of the fifth century. He is an opponent of the Stoics in ethics and religion as w^ell as in ontology and criticism. With wonderful dialectical skill he brings out the contradictions involved in the Stoic theology. The God of the Porch is the soul of the world; like the soul, he possesses feeling. Now a sensation is a modification (erepotcocrt?). Hence the Stoic God may be modified. But whatever is changeable may be changed for the worse ; it can perish and die. Hence the God of the Stoics is not eternal, their sensational God is not God. Moreover, as a sensible being the God of the Stoa is corporeal, which suffices to make him mutable. If God exists, Carneades goes on to state, he is either a finite or an infinite being. If he is finite, he forms a part of the whole of things, he is a part of the All and not the complete, total, and perfect being. If he is infinite, he is immutable, immovable, and without modification or 1 215-130. Sources: Diog. L., IV.; Sextus Emp., Adv. math.j VII. ; Ritter and Preller, pp. 444 if. ; Victor Brochard, op. cit. ; Constant Martha, Le philosopJie Carneade {Revue des Deux Mondes^ Vol. XXIX.). [See also Hirzel and SchmekeL] 152 GREEK PHILOSOPHY sensation; which means that he is not a living and real being. Hence, God cannot be conceived either as a finite or an infinite being. If he exists, he is either incorporeal or corporeal. If he has no body, he is insensible ; if he has a body, he is not eternal. God is virtuous or with- out virtue ; and what is a virtuous God but a God who recognizes the good as a law that is superior to his will, i. e., a god who is not the Supreme Being ? And, on the other hand, would not a god without virtue be inferior to man ? The notion of God is therefore a contradictory one, however you may conceive it. Carneades handles the conceptions of right, duty, and responsibility in the same way. Upon being sent to Rome on a political mission, he delivered two sensational speeches, one in favor of justice on the first day, another against it, the next. There is no absolute certitude in morals any more than in metaphysics. In the absence of evidence, we must content ourselves with probability (to irLdavov) in theory as well as in practice. Neo-Academic scepticism was superseded among the scholarchs wlio succeeded Carneades by a somewhat in- genious form of critical eclecticism, and then by a syn- cretism that indiscriminately combined the doctrines of Plato, Aristotle, Zeno, Epicurus, and Arcesilaus. § 22. Sensationalistic Scepticism. Idealistic scepticism, which traces its origin to the Ele- atics, was opposed by sensationalistic scepticism. This form of scepticism, which had been taught by Protagoras, Aris- tippus, and Timon, was continued by a number of thinkers who were for the most part physicians. The invariable result of their investigations is that we have no criterion of truth, no knowledge of things-in-themselves. Arcesi- laus and Carneades base their arguments upon dialectics and the inevitable contradictions involved in it; while em- SENSxVTIONALISTIC SCEPTICISM 153 piristic scepticism, the type of modern positivism, appeals also to a series of physiological and experimental facts. In his eight books on Pyrrlionism^ valuable fragments of which have been preserved by Sextus,^ one of these doubt- ers, ^Enesidemus of Cnossus,^ develops the reasons which influenced Pyrrho and induced the author liimself to call in question the possibility of certain knowledge. These reasons (rpoiroi rj tottol eTro;)^^)?) are as follows : — (1) The differences in the organization of sensible be- ings, and the resulting different and sometimes contradic- tory impressions produced by the same objects. All things seem yellow to a man suffering from the jaundice. Simi- larly, the same object may be seen in different colors and in different proportions by each particular animal. (2) The differences in the organization of human beings. If all things were perceived by us in the same way, we should all have the same impressions, the same ideas, the same emotions, the same desires; which is not the case. (3) The differences in the different senses of the same individual. The same object may produce contrary im- pressions upon two different senses. A picture may impress the eye agreeably, the touch disagreeably; a bird may please the sense of sight and have an unpleasant effect upon the hearing. Besides, every sensible object appears to us as a combination of diverse elements : an apple, for example, is smooth, fragrant, sweet, yellow or red. Now, there are two possibilities. The friiit in ques- tion may be a simple object, which as such has neither 1 Sext. Emp., Hi/p. Pyrrli., I., Diog. L., TX. ; Hitter and Preller, pp. 481 ff. ; V. Brochard, op. cit. 2 Born in Cnossus in Crete, ^nesidemus (Alvrjaidrjixos) probably Hved in Alexandria at the beginning of the Christian era. [See Saisset, Le Scepticnme. ^nesldhne, Pascal, Kant, 2d ed., Paris. 1807 ; Natorp, op. cit. — Tr.]. 154 GREEK PHILOSOPHY smootnness nor sweetness nor color, but occasions an impression sui generis in each particular sense depend- ing upon the particular nature of the sense-organ. But it is also possible that the apple is quite the reverse of simple ; it may be still more complex than it appears to us ; possibly it contains an infinite number of other very essential elements, of which we have no knowledge what- ever, because the corresponding senses may be lacking. (4) The circumstances in wdiich the sensible subject is placed produce infinite differences in his impressions. During our waking states things appear otherwise than in sleep ; in youth they affect us otherwise than in old age, in health, otherwise than in sickness, in the normal state of the brain, otherwise than in drunkenness. (5) The uncertainty of knowledge resulting from the position, distance, and general topical relations of objects. A vessel seen at a distance seems stationary ; a light burn- ing in broad daylight is invisible ; an elephant looks enor- mous near at hand, small at a certain distance ; the neck of a pigeon changes its color according to the observer's point of vision. Phenomena are, therefore, always deter- mined by the relative position of the object and its distance ; and since the objects which we observe are necessarily in a certain position and at a certain distance, we may, indeed say what they are in such and such positions and at such and such distances, but not what they are independently of these relations. Experience never gives us anything but relative knowledge. (6) No sensation is pure ; foreign elements coming either from the external world or from ourselves are mixed with each. Sounds, for example, are different, according as the air is dense or rare. Spices emit a stronger odor in a room and when it is warm than in the open air and in the cold. Bodies are lighter in water than in air. We must 3,lso take into account what our own bodies and minds add SENSATK )NALLSTIC SCEPTICISM 155 to the sensation. We must note the mfluence exercised on sensation by the eye, its tissues and its liuinors : an object that is green to my neighbor seems blue to me. Finally, we must take into consideration the influence of our un- derstanding, the changes it may produce in the data fur- nished by the senses in order to convert them into ideas and notions. (7) Qualities differ according to quantities. The horn of a goat (the whole) is black; the detached fragments (the parts) are whitish. Wine taken in small quantities has a strengthening effect ; taken in large doses it weakens. Certain poisons are fatal when taken alone; in mixture with other substances, they cure. (8) We perceive only phenomena and relations; we never perceive the things themselves. We know what they are in relation to other things and ourselves; we are absolutely ignorant of what they are in relation to them- selves. (9) A final and one of the strongest reasons for doubt is the influence of habit, education, and social and religious environment. We are accustomed to seeing the sun and are therefore indifferent to it ; comets, however, are exceptional phenomena and consequently produce the most vivid im- pressions in us. We esteem what is rare ; we despise the common things, although the latter may have more real value than the former. For the Jew educated in the wor- ship of Jehovah, Jupiter is but an idol ; for the Greek, who has been taught to worship Jupiter, Jehovah is the false God. Had the Jew been born a Greek, and the Greek de- scended from the race of Abraham, the reverse would be true. The Jew abstains from bloody sacrifices, be- cause his religion commands it ; the Greek has no scruples whatever against the practice, because his priests find nothing objectionable therein. Different countries, differ- ent customs ! It seems as thouirh we shall never be able 156 GREEK PHILOSOPHY to say what God is in himself and independently of human notions, or to know right and wrong as such and apart from our conceptions. The same philosopher subjects the notion of causality to a critique ^ the essential features of which are reproduced by David Hume. The causal relation is, according to jEnesidemus, inconceivable for the corj)oreal as well as for the incorporeal world. Nor can it exist between bodies and minds. The efficient cause of a body cannot be a body ; in fact, we cannot conceive how two can be derived from the unit, three from two, and so on. For the same reason, the efficient cause cannot be an imma- terial entity. Besides, an immaterial being can neither touch matter nor be touched by it, neither act upon it nor be acted upon by it. The material cannot produce the immaterial, and vice versa, since the effect is neces- sarily of the same nature as the cause ; a horse never produces a man, and vice versa. Now, with regard to objects which we call causes, it must be said that only bodies and immaterial beings exist. Hence, there are no causes in the proper sense of the term. We reach the same conclusion in reference to motion and rest. Rest cannot produce motion, nor motion, rest. Similarly, rest cannot produce rest, nor motion, motion. The cause is either simultaneous with, or antecedent to, or consequent upon, its effect. In the first case, the effect may be the cause, and the cause the effect ; in the second, there is no effect as long as the cause acts, and there is no longer an acting cause as soon as the effect is produced. The third case is an absurd hypothesis. What we call a cause must act by itself or through the mediation of something else. On the first hypothesis the cause would have to act always and in all cases, which is 1 Sextus Empiricus, Adv. math., IX., 220 ff. SENSATIONALISTIC SCEPTICISM 157 disproved by experience ; on the second, the intermediate cause may be the cause as well as the so-called cause. The supposed cause possesses a single property or it pos- sesses several. In the former case, the supposed cause must always act in the same manner under all circumstances; which is not true. The sun, for example, sometimes burns, sometimes warms without burning, and sometimes illumi- nates the ol )ject without burning or warming it ; it hardens clay, tans the skin, and reddens fruits. Hence the sun has diverse properties. But, on the other hand, we cannot conceive how it can have them, because, if it had them, it would at once burn, and melt, and harden everything. The objection that the effect produced by it depends on the nature of the object exposed to its rays makes for scep- ticism. It is equivalent to a confession that the hardened clay and the melted wax are as much causes as the sun ; hence, that the real cause is the contact between the solar rays and the object acted upon. But the contact is exactly what we cannot conceive. For it is either indirect or im- mediate. If indirect, there is no real contact ; if direct, there is no contact either, but the two objects are united, fused, identified. Passive action is as incomprehensible as efficient action. To be passive or to suffer means to be diminished, to be deprived of being in a certain measure. In so far as I am passive, I am non-existent. Hence, to be passive means to be and not to l)e at tlie same time ; which is contra- dictory. Furthermore, the idea of becoming involves an eviriori speculation rather than to the detailed and pains- taking labor involved in observation and experience. But the sciences in which reasoning plays the chief part, mathe- matics and matliematical physics, the exact sciences, in a word, made rapid strides. They alone escaped the destroy- ing touch of universal scepticism. In spite of the attacks of empiricism, there could be no reasonable doubt of the 1 Montiicla, Histoire des sciences mathematiques, especially the first two volumes, Paris, 1758 ; Delambre, Histoire de Vastronomie, 7 vols., Paris, 1817-23 ; Draper, History of the Intellectual Development in Eu- rope, New York, 1863 ; Cliasles, A2-)ergu historique sur Vorigine et le de'veloppement des metJiodes en ge'ometrie, 2d ed,, Paris, 1875 ; [Cantor, Geschichte der Mathematik, L, Leipsic, 1880]. 160 GREEK PHILOSOPHY truth that twice two are four, and that the three angles of a triangle are equal to two right angles. In Sicily, where Pythagorean traditions had been per- petuated, Hicetas and Archimedes of Syracuse taught a system of astronomy (as early as the third century B. c.) that closely resembled the Copernican system. Archi- medes gave to physics the method of determining specific weights, invented the sun-glass and the endless screw, and created the science of mechanics by his theory of the lever. At the same time, a fellow-countryman of Pytha- goras, Aristarchus of Samos, proposed that the distance between the earth and the sun be measured by the dicho- tomy of the moon, and, Av^hat is more important, — for this method has proved to be impracticable, — attempted to substitute for the geocentric system of Aristotle the hypothesis that the earth revolves around the sun. This theory was accepted and developed by Seleucus of Seleucia in Babylonia, but stamped as impious by the Stoics, and rejected by Ptolemy himself, the most celebrated if not the greatest among the astronomers of Alexandria. It did not succeed in supplanting the old conception until the dawn of modern times, when it was advanced by Copernicus, Kepler, and Galileo. (3n the opposite shore of the Mediterranean arose the city of Alexandria which was founded in the second half of the fourth century by the conqueror who gave it his name. Under the Ptolemies this became the educational as well as commercial centre of the world. Here rather than at the schools of Athens are to be found the legitimate spiritual descendants of Plato and Aristotle. Athens had banished the king of science, and its star went down forever. The spirit of the Stagirite descended upon his pu|)il, and from Alexander to Ptolemy and his successors. The Museum which they founded in the new capital of Egypt was a wonderful institution. Nothing* in ancient or modern THE SCIENTIFIC MOVEMENT 161 times can be compared to this attempt to organize science. Here scholars from every nation were entertained at public expense ; thousands of students flocked hither from all the surrounding countries. Here the naturalists found a botanical garden, a vast zoological collection, and an ana- tomical building ; the astronomers, an observatory ; the litterateurs^ grammarians, and philologists, a splendid li- brary, which contained, during the first centuries of our era, 700,000 volumes. Here Euclid wrote (about 290) his Elements of Geometry^ his treatises on Harmony^ Optics^ and CatoiJtrics ; here Eratosthenes, the royal librarian under Ptolemy Pliiladelphus, pursued his remarkable astronomi- cal, geographical, and historical labors ; here ApoUonius of Perga published his treatises on Conic Sections ; here Arys- tillus and Timochai*us made the observations wliich led to the discovery of the precession of the equinoxes by the astronomer Hipparchus ; here Ptolemy wrote the Almagest (/jieyaXrj avpra^t^}, which remained the authoritative sys- tem of astronomy until the time of Copernicus, and his Geography, which was used in the schools of Europe for fourteen centuries. Ever since this epoch, the conceptions of the sphericity of the earth, its poles, its axis, the equator, the arctic and antarctic circles, the equinoctial points, the solstices, the inequality of climate on the earth's suiiace, have been current notions among scientists. The mechan- ism of the lunar phases was perfectly understood, and careful though not wholly successful calculations were made of intersidereal distances. On the other hand, literature and art flourished under the careful protection of the Court. Literature and its history, philology and criticism, became sciences. The Hebrew Bible and other books of Oriental origin were translated into Greek. Buddhists and Jews, Greeks and Egyptians, mingled together, bringing with them the most diverse forms of religion. These conditions led to the 11 162 GREEK PHILOSOPHY development of comj)arative theology, on the one hand, and to the fusion of beliefs or a kind of religious eclec- ticism, on the other, and paved the way for Catholic unity. § 24. Eclecticism ^ The scientific movement of Alexandria was suddenly checked in the second century by the centralizing power of Rome. From that time on, the Greek genius showed unmistakable signs of decay. Literature and art declined rapidly. Philosophy was suffering from the incurable dis- ease of scepticism. Torn from its native soil, it went to seed. The physical sciences remained stationary after the days of Galen, the physician, and the astronomer Ptolemy. The religion of the fathers became an object of scandal and derision ; wliile etliics, which ought to have taken the place of religion, wavered between the trivialities of Epi- cureanism and the Utopias of tlie Stoa; the nearer it seemed to approach its ideal, ataraxia^ the more the latter seemed to elude its grasp. In this state of senile pros- tration, Greek thought looked back with longing to the days of its creative force ; it cultivated a taste for history and archaeology, in a word, for the past. Sceptical even of scepticism and yet unable to produce anything original, it became eclectic and lived on its memories. The ancient schools, each of which but recently possessed a separate principle, a distinguishing characteristic, and an indivi- duality of its own, the Academy, the Lyceum, and the Stoa, after a struggle of three centuries, gradually became reconciled with each other and were eventually fused into a colorless syncretism. It was, however, not impotence alone that led to such a fusion of elements. As long as Judaism retained its ^ Sources : Suidas, the Treaties of Philo the Jew, Plutarch, and Apuleius ; Eusebius, Prcep. evangelica, XI., XV., etc. ECLECTICISM 163 national and exclusive form, it proved ineffective. But when Pliilo of Alexandria ^ attempted to reconcile the teachings of Moses and Plato, and Jesus and his apostle, Paul of Tarsus, divested Judaism of its national garb, there was no further obstacle to its progress in the Gra3co- Roman world. Public opinion had long ago inclined towards monotheism. Peripateticism and Roman Stoicism boldly advanced it, but their teachings reached the edu- cated classes alone. Christianity was a religion in the true sense of the term. Eminently popular, it showed a preference for the uncultured, the poor, and the lowly, for all such as desired the coming of a better world {I3acn- Xeia Tov Oeov). Hence it became a formidable adversary, before whom it was necessary to close the ranks and funnily reunite the disjecta membra of ancient pliilosophy. Pythagoras and Plato were invoked against Biblical reve- lation ; the God of Xenophanes, Socrates, and Aristotle, against the God of the Jews and the Christians. The Stoic example was followed, and the attempt made to reconcile traditional polytheism with monotheism by means of the 1 A Jewish theologian, a contemporary of Jesns. Many of his writings are still extant; the majority of them are commentaries on the Old Testament. In order to reconcile Scripture with the philo- sophy of his century he had recourse to allegory, like the Stoics. His theory of the \6yos (the Word, as the revelation of God, the Son of God, the second God) has passed into Christianity (The Gof^pel ac- cording to St. John, chap. I.). PhUonis Jurhei opera omnia, ed. Richtei-, 4 vols., Leipsic, 1828-30 ; [P. Wendland, Neuentdeckte Fragmente Philos, Berlin, 1891; Gfrorer, Pkilon und die alexandrinische Theo- sophie, Stuttgart, 1831, 2d ed., 183o; Diihne, Geschlchtlirhe DarsteUiing der Jiidisch-alexandrinischen Religionsphilosophir, Halle, 1831: ; Wolff, Die philonische Philosophie, 2d ed., Gothenburg, 18.58; Reville, Le logos d\iprh Philon d'Alexandrie, Geneva, 1877; M. Heinze, Die Lehre vom Logos, etc., Oldenburg, 1872 : James Drummond, PhiJo-Judceits, etc., London, 1888; Schiirer, Geschichte des jiidischen Volks imZeitalter Jesu Christi, 2d ed. ; Eng. trans. History of the Jewish People, etc., 5 vols., New York,' 1891. — Tr.]. 164 GREEK rniLOSOPHY pantheistic conception of a supreme and unique principle, embodying itself in a number of secondary divinities. This conception passed into monotheism and found expres- sion in the eons of the Christian Gnostics, the sephiroth of the Jewish cabalists, and the hypostases of Catholic the- ology. In conformity with the Greek spirit and in oppo- sition to Christian tendencies, the times continued to identify the beautiful and the good, the ugly and the bad, metaphysical evil and moral evil. Good was ascribed to spirit, the formal or ideal principle, evil to matter strug- gling against the dominion of the Idea. Some conceived God as a neutral principle, superior both to mind and mat- ter, and yet the cause of both ; others identified liim with the spiritual or ideal principle, meaning thereby not the unity of contraries but the antithesis of matter. Hence- forth matter is not liis product or creation, but a rival prin- ciple co-eternal with him and equal in power. Here we have a more or less pronounced dualism, which exercises an influence on its adversaries and is reflected in the gnostic heresies. If God alone, it is held, is without sin, it is because he alone is ^-ithout matter ; and if matter is the soiu'ce of e^Hd, then every corporeal being is sinful. Hence follow the necessity of sin and the obligation on part of the sage to mortif}' the body by ascetic practices and abstinences. The Cluistian belief in the resurrection of the flesh is opposed by the Platonic dogma of the im- mortality of the soul apart from the body ; creation ex nihilo, by the conception of the pre-existence of souls and the eternity of matter. Nevertheless, the greatest concessions were made to the enem}^ Provided he consented to place Orpheus, Pytha- goras, and Plato in the same category with jMoses, Isaiah, and St. Paul, and recognized the thinkers of ancient Greece as the organs of the eternal X0709, he was offered the hand of friendship. All religions were held to be akin to each ECLECTICISM 165 other, and conceived as products uf a primitive revelaliun modified in various ways by differences in nationality. The most liberal tliinlvers, men like Moderatus, Kicoma- chus, and Numenius, loved to call Moses the Jewish Plato, and Plato the Attic Moses (Mcovaq^ uttiklI^wv), But with the exception of a few Clnistian doctors, most of the adversaries rejected the compromise offered by eclecticism. Although disposed to recognize the scat- tered truths in Plato, they called in question Plato's originality and alleged that he had drawn them from the Bible. Greek philosophy found itself obliged to change its old methods of controversy in dealing with the arguments of Chi"istianity. With the exception of a few Fathers of the Church, Avho Avere as tolerant as they were learned, the Christians, following the example of Judaism, recognized no other philosophy than Biblical exegesis, no other cri- terion of the truth of a doctrine than its agreement with revelation, as set forth in Scripture. Hence it was neces- sary to appeal to the texts or to lower one's colors to Chris- tianity ; arguments drawn from pure reason and discussions not based on the texts were no longer accepted. Hence also the unusual ardor with which the pliilosophers of the period stucUed the texts of their predecessors, particularly those of Plato and Aristotle. Indeed, theii* enthusiasm degenerated into a veritable feticliism of the letter, which proved to be no less extreme than the letterworship of their adversaries.^ The writings of the great Attic pliilosophers became a kind of Bible, a kind of supernatural revelation, in contents as well as in form. They were regarded as inimitable master- pieces and so greatly admired that every plu^ase and eveiy w^ord was considered inspired. The pliilologists, gram- 1 The genuine writings of the ancient philosophers did not suffice, hence the Oi-phics, the Books of Hermes^ the Chaldean Oracles, etc., were manufactured. This is the golden age of apocr}-phal literature. 166 GREEK PHILOSOPHY marians, and critics vied with each other in their efforts to analyze, purify, establish, and explain the texts. They loved to imitate not only the mode of thouglit but the style of Plato ; indeed these form-loving Greeks valued the lat- ter almost as highly as the contents. Alcinous and Atticus wrote commentaries on Plato ; Alexander of Aphrodisias — to mention only the most distinguished among the com- mentators — devoted his learning and ingenuity to tlie interpretation of Aristotle. Among some, literalism gave rise to the strangest super- stitions. Plutarch ^ of Chceronea and Apuleius,^ mistaldng the form for the contents, the allegorical meaning for the real meaning, looked upon Plato as an apostle of the most vulgar polytheism. But, on the other hand, Ammonius Saccas, the founder (though otherwise little known) of the Neo-Platonic school of Alexandria,^ Longinus, the sup- posed author of the treatise On the Sublime,, Erennius, the successor of Ammonius, and above all Plotinus of Lyco- polis, penetrated more deeply into the spirit of the illus- trious Athenian and gave liis conceptions the systematic and definitive form which they had hitherto lacked. In Neo-Platonism and particularly in the philosophy of Ploti- nus, the Greek mind seems to make a final serious attempt to formulate the result of ten centuries of reflection and to express its final convictions concerning God, the world, and the human soul. 1 [See p. 7, note ; Ritter and Preller, pp. 507 ff. ; transl. of Morah, ed. by Goodwin, 5 vols., Boston, 1870; R. Volkmann, Leben, Schrijlen und Phllosophie des Plutarch, 2 pts., Berlin, 1872.] — Tr. 2 [TForLs, ed. by Goldbacher, Vienna, 1876. See Prantl, Geschichte der Lofjik, I., pp. 578-591. — Tr.] 3 [Ritter and Preller, pp. 517 if. ; Matter, Sur Ve'cole d'Alexandrie, Paris, 1820, 2d ed., 1840-48]; Jules Simon, Histoire de Vecole d'AIex- andrie, 2 vols., 1844-1845 ; Vacherot, Histoire critique de Vecole d'Alex- andrie, 3 vols. Paris, 1846-51. PLOTINUS AND NEO-PLATONISM 167 § 26. Plotinus and Neo-Platonism Plotinus ^ of Lycopolis in Egypt, a disciple of Ammo- iiiiis Sat'cas of Alexandria, came to Rome about 244, and taught philosophy for twenty-five years. The school which he founded in that city included men from every country and every station in life : physicians, rhetoricians, poets, senators, nay, even an emperor and an empress, Gallienus and Salonina. It became the centre of what remained of Pagan philosophy, science, and literature. Countless com- mentaries were written on the Attic philosophers ; they were even worshipped as Jesus, the apostles, and the martyrs were Avorshipped by the Christian community, wliich had in the meanwhile become large and influential. Plotinus, who wrote nothing until he was fifty years old, left fifty-four treatises at the time of his death (270). These liis disciple Porphyry published in six Enneads or series of nine writings each. The fundamental conception of tliis important work is emanatistic pantheism. It looks upon the world as an overflow., as a diffusion of the divine life, and upon its re-ahsorption in God as the final goal of existence. The stages in the overflow are : spirituality, animality, and cor- poreality ; of re-absorption : sensible perception, reasoning, mystical intuition. Let us consider, with the author, (1) the principle, and (2) the three stages in the hierarchy of beings. 1 [Complete edition of the Works of Plotinus with the Latin trans- lation of Marsilius Ficinus, published by Wyttenbach, Moser, and Creuzer, 3 quarto vols., Oxford, 1835 ; by Creuzer and JNIoser, Paris, 1855 ; by A. Kirchhoff, Leipsic, 1856. Eitter and Preller, pp. 517 ff. Engl, transl. of parts by Th. Taylor, London, 1787, 1794, 1817; French transl. and commentary by Bouillet, 3 vols., Paris, 1856-00. See C. H. Kirchner, Die Philosophie dcs Plotin, Halle, 1854; A. Richter, Neuplatonische Studien, 5 pts., Halle, 1864-67; Harnack, Article in EncycloijedlaBritannica, on Neo-Platonism; Walter, Geschichte der Acs- thetik in Alterthum, pp. 736-786.] — Tk. 168 GREEK PHILOSOPHY I. God. — Every being is composed of matter and form. God (the One, the Form) and matter (yXi]} are the consti- tutive principles, and, as it were, the two poles of the uni- verse. God is the hvvafjn^ which produces everything, the active power ; matter, the Swa/jn^ which suffers everything, becomes everything, and is infinitely modified ; it is the opposite of the absolute ivepjeta. However, though mat- ter takes on form, it does not, according to Plotinus, constitute an absolute antithesis; there is, in the last analysis, but one supreme principle : Form, Unity, or God. Divine unity is not a numerical unity. The unity of number presupposes the two, the three, and so on, while the divine unity is equal to infinity and contains every- thing. It is not divisible like the numerical unity with its endless fractions ; it transcends our conception ; it is the miracle of miracles. It produces all things and is pro- duced by none ; it is the source of all beauty, without being beautiful itself, the source of all form, without having any form itself, the source of all thought and intelligence, without being a tliinking and intelligent being itself, the principle, the measure, and tlie end of all things (ttclvtwv fjuerpov fcal Trc/oa?), without itself being a thing in the proper sense of the term. It is pure thought, the source of every concrete thought, the pure light which makes us see all things, and which consequently we do not, ordinarily, dis- tinguish from the things themselves ; it is the principle of goodness, the highest good, without being good^ like a creature participating in goodness. It has neither good- ness nor beauty nor intelligence, but is goodness, beauty, and thought itself. To attribute inner perception to God and to make an individual being of him, means to diminish him. Self-consciousness has value for us ; it would have none for God. What is obscure seeks for light by means of vision ; but has light itself any need of sight ? Not that PLOTINUS AND NEO-PLATONISM. 169 the Supreme Being is unconscious or blind like a stone or plant ; lie transcends the unconscious as well as the conscious ; the op^DOsition between the conscious and un- conscious does not exist for God. Nor has he a will in the human sense of the term ; he does not strive for any good ; he does not desire anything but himself, because there is nothing desirable outside of liim ; he is peace, rest, and supreme content. He is neither free, as souls are, nor determined, like bodies ; he is superior to free-will, which Avavers between opposing notions, and to corporeal beings, which are impelled by a foreign power. Inasmuch as every quality assigned to him limits him, Ave must refrain from giving him attributes ; he is both everytliing and nothing imaginable. To attribute or to give to him any tiling what- ever, means to dej^rive liim of it. Hence Plotinus is obliged to confess that the attributes which he himself had ascribed to God (the One, the Good, pure Thought, pure Actuality) are inadequate. All Ave can say of God is that he transcends everything that can be con- ceived and said. Strictly speaking, Ave cannot cA^en affirm that he exists^ for he transcends existence itself. He is the highest abstraction, and Ave cannot reach him except by means of an absolute and radical abstraction. We cannot even conceive Ideas Avithout abstracting from the sensible data ; noAV, since God is as far superior to Ideas as these are to sensible things, Ave must, in order to reach God, ab- stract from all Ideas. After thought has arrived at this height, it must push aAvay the ladder Avhich helped it rise, and abandon itself to meditation ; it becomes contemplation or adoration. To attempt to define God either in thought or in language means to lose him. Plato's God is superior to being, ^ but not to the Idea; he is the king of Ideas and the Idea as such ; he is acces- sible to reason. The God of Neo-Platonism is superior 1 Repub., VL, 509. 170 GREEK PHILOSOPHY even to the Idea,^ and therefore eludes thought (eireKeiva vorjaeco^;^. Consequently, there is an undeniable thiference between the two systems. We have no right, however, to exaggerate this chfference and to bring Plotinus the mystic in ojjposition with Plato the rationalist. The hu- man mind can, according to Plotinus, be united with the absolute, only after it has performed diligent intellectual labor and has previously passed through all the interven- ing stages between vulgar opinion (86^a) and philosophical knowledge Qyvoicn^). Although he holds that thought cannot penetrate into the sanctuary, he considers it as an indispensable means of carrying us to the threshold of the temple ; and though he discharges liis guide upon arriving at the goal, it is not because he disdains him. On the other hand, as we have seen, Plato's philosopliy contains all the elements of what has been called Alexandrian mysticism : intellectual love, enthusiasm, the sage's delight in the world of ideas .^ The universe emanates from the absolute as light eman- ates from the sun ; as heat, from fire ; the conclusion, from the axiom. God is goodness, the Father who desires that all things should exist.^ But there is a vague or conscious desire in all things that emanate from him to return to him (eVtcTT/ooc^T/). Everything is attracted to him and desires to approach him. Individuality is not the final form of existence ; it is merely the passage from God, the principle of things, to God, their ideal goal ; from God, the infinite ^wayLtt?, to God, the absolute ivepyeca. If the world is a 1 Plotinus, it iiiiLst be added, is not always consistent. Like his modern imitator, Schelling, he regards God, sometimes as the unity which is superior to all contrasts and therefore to the contrast be- tween matter and mind, sometimes as spirit in opposition to body. The latter conception dominates his moral system. Asceticism and the nirvana are the natural consequences of the view. 2 Enneads, I., 8, 2; III., 9, 3 ; V., 3-5. 8 Tim(Eus, 20 E. PLOTINUS AND NEO-PLATONISM. 171 system of harmony, it is because all things converge toward the same absolute. The rctarn of being to its divine source is made possible through thought, contemplation, intuition (Oecopia)^ which alone gives the soul the supreme satisfac- tion which it demands. To perceive, to see, to contem- plate, is the goal of all action, of all striving, of all movement. Each man seeks for the absolute in his own manner. There are meditative natures and 2^1'actical na- tures ; but the former are, according to Plotinus, superior to the latter. Both aspire to the same goal. The former, however, seek to reach it by tlie most direct way, i. e., by thought ; the latter, by endless meanderings ; for action is an aberration of thought and denotes a relative weakness of the understanding (aaOeueia Oeojpta^^. Contemplation is not only the final goal of life, but life itself (etc dewpia^ ical Oewpia eVrt). Animals, plants, nay, everything in exist- ence are endowed with perception. Since all life is ulti- mately reduced to thought, and since God is the creator of all things, we may say with Aristotle (qualifying the statement as above), that God is pure thought, having no other object than himself, the principle of intelligence, or the power of intuition which makes us see all things with- out seeing itself. II. The Three Stages of Being. 1. Intelligence. — Intelligence is the fii'st divine emanation and therefore the greatest thing in the world ; the succeeding emanations are more and more imperfect. Creation is a fall, a pro- gressive degeneration of the divine. In the intelligence, the absolute unity of God splits up into intelligence proper (I'oO?) and the intelligible world (/coVyLto? i^ot^to?), subject and object (to use the modern expressions). However, the intelligence is, as compared to bodies, almost an absolute unity; at any rate, the intelligible world and the reason contemplating it are not, as yet, separated either in time or in space ; the ^'o^}9 and the rcoafjuo^ votjto^ are in each other. 172 GREEK PHILOSOPHY The Ideas are immanent in the intellect which conceives them ; the intellect is inseparable from the Ideas. The passage of the divine unity into this first duality, the lio'iv of the emanation, is as much of a mystery as God himself. Whatever rational explanation might be given, it would still be insufficient. If the dyad, it has been said, comes fiom the monad, then the latter contains the former in germ. But that would make the monad a dyad and not a monad in the absolute sense. Others identify the One {ind the All. But if God is only the sum of existing things, then he is a mere word used to designate the result of an addition, and not the supremely real principle from which the things are derived. God is anterior to the All (jrpo iravToov)^ in dignity if not in time. Still, we may call him irav^ in so far as he is the essence of everything in existence. An attempt has been made to explain ema- nation by calling it a partition of the original unity. But the divine unity, which is not a numerical unity, is indivi- sible. It has been compared with the gleaming of a bright body (TrejOtXayLt^Irt?), with the radiation of the sun, with a cup that eternally overflows, because its contents are in- finite and cannot be held in it. However beautiful these figures may be, they are taken from the material world and cannot explain the immaterial. Hence, emanation is in reality a miracle (^Oavfia), like God himself. There are two kinds of Ideas ^ : (1) genera Q^evrf)^ or general forms of all existing things, viz., being (6V), iden- tity (rauTOTT??), difference (eTe/Jor?/?), rest {aTaai'^)^ motion (/ctVT^o-t?), and (2) specific types of individual beings {eihrj).^ We may conceive all genera as modifications of the only being, and all specific types as comprehended in a single being : the universal Type, or the Idea of the universe (/coV/A09 vor]T6<^'). Everything that exists in the visible world has its corresponding Idea or prototype in the in- 1 Enneads, VI., 1-3. 2 la,^ VL, 2, 8. PLOTINUS AND NEO-PLATONISM 173 telligible world. Not only the Idea of man, but Ideas of Socrates, Plato, and so on, exist ; that is to say, there are as many Ideas as individuals. Each one of us realizes a distinct Idea. Hence the Idea is not the species resolving itself into a number of passing individuals ; it is the in- dividual considered as eternal. From the fact that there are as many Ideas as individuals, it does not follow that the number of Ideas is unlimited. Though the number of existing individuals is infinite for our imagination, it is not actually infinite ; if it were so, the universe would not be a perfect being, i. e., perfect in the Greek sense (^^wov irav- rekh^. So, too, a fixed and unchangeable number of Ideas or types of individuals exist in the intelligence, the creation of God. 2. The Soul. — The intelligence, too, is creative, like the absolute whence it emanates, but its productive power is less. Its emanation or radiation is the soul ('^f%^),^ Avhich is like the vov<; but inferior to it. The fact is, reason finds its Ideas in itself ; they are its immanent possession and substance, while the soul must search for them or ascend to them by reflection (Scdvoia)^ and there- fore reaches, not the Ideas themselves, but their more or less adequate images, the simple notions (\6yoi). The soul is not, like the intellect, endowed with immediate and complete intuition ; it is restricted to discursive thought, or analysis. It is subordinate to the intellect, and therefore strives towards it as reason itself strives towards God. Its mis- sion is to hecome what the intellect is a 2^'i'iori ; that is, intelligent (voepd). Just as there is but 07ie absolute, one reason, and one intelligible world, so there is, at the bottom of all individual souls, but one single soul manifesting itself in infinitely different forms : the soul of the world (yjrv^r] rov Koafiov). Like the 1^01)9, winch contemplates ^ Enneads, IV. 174 GREEK PHILOSOPHY the absolute and also produces the -^v^rj^ the soul has two functions, one of which is to contemplate and look inward, where it finds the Ideas and the absolute, while the other is expansive and creative. Its emanation, which is less perfect than itself, is the body.^ 3. The Body. — Though the body is far removed from the source of all things (God is the One, the body, the greatest plurality), it bears the stamp of the absolute. The intel- lect has its Ideas ; the soul, its notions ; the body, its forms. Through these the body still belongs to the higher spheres of being ; they are to the body what perceptions are to the soul, what Ideas are to reason : a reflection of the absolute, a trace of the divine. The form of bodies represents what reality they have ; their matter, what they lack of reality ; their form is their being ; their mat- ter their non-being. Corporeal nature {<^v(n<;) fluctuates between being and non-being ; it is eternal becoming, and everything in it is in perpetual change. After the world of bodies comes pure matter, or non- being, an obscure and bottomless abyss (aireLpov), as it were, into which the ideal world projects its rays. Mat- ter is not body, for every body is composed of matter and form ; it is but the substratum, the principle of its inertia ; it has neither form, nor dimension, nor color, nor anything that characterizes the body; all these qualities proceed from the formal principle, the absolute ; it has no other attribute than privation (arepTjcni:). Since all force and life has its source in the intellect and in God, matter is impotence, boundless indigence, the negation of unity, the cause of the infinite multitude of bodies, incoherence, dif- fusion, the absolute absence of form, i. e., ugliness itself ; the absence of the good, i. e., evil itself.^ From the stand- point of Plotinus as well as of Hellenism in general, unity, form, intelligence, beauty, and goodness are synonymous 1 Enneads, III. 2 /j.^ h. PLOTINUS AND NEO-PLATONISM 175 terms, as are also, on the other hand, plurality, matter, ugliness, and evil. It must not be understood that he considers matter and evil as non-existent. To assume that he denies the exist- ence of matter and of evil would be equivalent to making him say that poverty is the absence of wealth and there- fore nothing, that it does not exist, and, consequently, that charity is useless. Matter is so great a reality that its in- fluence is exercised, not only upon the corporeal sphere, but also upon the soul and upon reason itself. We have seen that the body still, though vaguely, resembles the mind, because of the form which it assumes and which is nothing but an embodied Idea. Conversely, we shall say, however superior the mind may be to corporeal nature, it is not ahsolutely immaterial. Matter exists in the mind, though in another form than in nature ; i. e., as the notion of matter (vXt] vor]Trj\ intelligibly, in the conceptual state, not corporeally. But more than that ; not only is matter in the mind in so far as the mind conceives it ; it is mingled with every one of its thoughts, indissolubly connected with all its conceptions. Without matter, the mind w^ould not be distinct from the absolute. In fact, God alone is unity in the absolute sense ; the intellect is not unity in the same sense ; in it unity expands into a pluralit}' of Ideas, which are distinct from one another, although they are perceived by one and the same intellectual intuition. It is true, the Ideas in our mind are not separated corporeally ; Ijut it is also certain that the mind contains them as plurali- ties. Now, matter is the very pi'inciple of pluralit}^ Hence it lies at the very basis of the intellect, which, without it, would be swallowed up in the absolute unity of God. In order to understand this paradox, which is essentially Platonic, it must be remembered that the matter' of Plato, Aristotle, and Plotinus, is not the matter of the material- ists, but what Schelling and Schopenhauer would call 176 GREEK PHILOSOPHY will^ or the will-to-be ; it is not body, but the transcendent suhstratum^ the principle of corporeality, that which makes the body a body, but is itself an incorporeal thing like the mind. It even transcends the intelligence ; it rises above it like an impenetrable mystery that defies the reason even of the gods. Moreover, Plotinus does not place matter among the genera ; he places it beyond the world of Ideas in the supra-intelligible realm which reason cannot reach, although we may recognize the Idea of matter in the ideas of otherness and movement. If we call what can be the object of intelligence, what the intelligence can define, comprehend, or embrace under an exact formula, "intelli- gible," then matter is evidently not intelligible ; for it is the opposite of form; it resists all limitation and conse- quently all comprehension. To comprehend matter is to see darkness ; to see darkness is to see nothing ; hence, to comprehend matter is to comprehend nothing. Is matter a second absolute ? One is sometimes tempted to regard Plotinus as a decided dualist ; his system of ethics, especially, lays itself open to the charge of dual- ism. But the metaphysician cannot assume two absolutes. Plotinus, therefore, recalling the statement of Aristotle that the first matter and the first form are identical,^ con- ceives the supra-intelligent matter, or, in other terms, the first cause of bodies, as identical with God. Matter, which Platonism loves to call the infinite, is, in the last analysis, nothing but infinite potentiality, unlimited productivity, the creative power of God. The highest ivepyeta is also the highest Svva/jn^. How is that possible ? The question is the same as the one raised above : How can plurality emanate from divine unity ? How can we explain emana- tion, creation ? That is a mystery. III. Ethics. — The soul, which is intermediate between the intellect and the body, contains elements of both, and 1 Metaphysics, VIII., 6, 19, PLOTINUS AND NEO-FLATONISM 177 is an epitome of the universe. It is, as it were, the meet- ing place of all cosmical powers. Logical necessity reigns in the intellectual sphere ; physical necessity, in the world of bodies. The soul is the seat of the free will. It is sub- ject to the allurements of the body and those of the intel- lect. It may therefore turn towards reason and live a purely intellectual life, but it may also turn towards matter, fall, and become embodied in a low and earthly body.^ Hence, there are tln-ee kinds of souls : (1) souls which live for reason and for God, or divine souls ; (2) souls which waver between mind and body, heaven and earth : demons, or geniuses which are partly good and partly bad ; (3) souls which dwell in matter and inhabit base bodies. The heavenly souls, like the soul of the world itself, are supremely happy. Their happiness consists in their ap- athy^ in their obedience to divine reason, and in the con- templation of the absolute. Their bodies consist wholly of light, and have nothing material in them, using this term in the sense of terrestrial? Eternally perfect and always the same, they have neither memory nor prevision, neither hope nor regret ; for only such beings have mem- ory and hope as change their conditions, be it for better or for worse. They are not even, like the human soul, conscious of themselves ; they are absorbed in the con- templation of Ideas and of the absolute. It is this un- consciousness, this exclusive apperception of divine things, which constitutes their supreme happiness. Human souls were not always enclosed in base bodies ; they were at first heavenly souls, conscious of God alone and not of themselves ; but they separated their lives from the universal life, in order to become selfish individuals and to assume vulgar bodies, which isolate them from each other. The assumption of an earthly body is a fall for 1 Ennmch, IT., 3, 9 ; III., 5, 6; IV., 3, 8. 2 Cf. St. Paul, First Letter to the CorintJuans, XV., 40. 12 178 GKEEK PHILOSOPHY which the miseries of our present existence are the just punishment.^ It was a free act, in so far as no power out- side of us forced us to do it ; a necessary act, in so far as our own nature determined it. Every man is the author of his fate, and, conversely, his fate depends upon his in- dividual character. True, we choose only the fate which we can choose, but we choose this simply because Ave do not desire anything else. Moreover (and here we note a difference between Neo- Platonism and modern pessimism in favor of the former), incarnation is but a relative misfortune and even a bless- ing, j)rovided the soul descends into matter merely in order to transform it, and ascends heavenwards as soon as pos- sible. Nay, the soul profits by its contact with the body, for it thereby not only learns to recognize evil but also to exercise its hidden powers, to produce works which it would otherwise not have been able to accomplish. Fur- thermore, though closely connected with the body, it re- mains separate from it. This is proved by the fact that, instead of assisting our aspirations towards the ideal world the body opposes them, and that the pliilosopher welcomes death.2 The Imman soul is like the Olympus whose sum- mit is steeped in azure while its sides are beaten by the storm ; it is not confounded with the body, but escapes its bondage by means of the intelligence, its better part. The ethical system of Plotinus reminds us of Plato and Stoicism. The end of human life is the purification of the soul and its gradual assimilation with the divinity. Three roads lead to God:^ music (art), love, and philosophy; three paths, or rather a single one with three stages. The artist seeks for the Idea in its sensible manifestations ; the lover seeks for it in the human soul; the philosopher, 1 Cf. p. 46, note 2. 2 Cf. St. Paul, Epistle to the Philippians, I, 23. ^ Enneads, I., 3. POKPHYRY, JAMBLICHUS, PROCLUS 179 finally, seeks for it in the sphere in which it dwells Avithout alloy, — in the intelligible world and in God. The man who has tasted the delights of meditation and contemplation foregoes both art and love. The traveller who has beheld and admired a royal palace forgets the beauty of the apart- ments when he perceives the sovereign. For the philoso- pher, beauty in art, na}^, living beauty itself, is but a pale reflection of absolute beauty. He despises the body and its pleasures in order to concentrate all his thoughts upon the only thing that endures forever. The joys of the philoso- pher are unspeakable. These joys make him forget, not only the earth, but liis own individuality ; he is lost in the pure intuition of the absolute. His rapture is a union (eVojo-t?) of the human soul with the divine intellect, an ecstasy, a flight of the soul to its heavenly home.^ As long as he lives in the body, the philosopher enjoys this vision of God only for certain short moments, — Plotinus had four such transports, — but what is the exception in this life will be the rule and the normal state of the soul in the life to come. Death, it is true, is not a direct pas- sage to a state of perfection. The soul which is purified by philosophy here below, continues to be purified bej^ond the grave until it is divested of individuality itself, the last vestige of its earthly bondage .^ § 26. The Last Neo-Platonic Polytheists. Porphyry, Jamblichus, Proclus 1. Plotinus was succeeded in the Neo-Platonic school at Rome by his friend Malchus or Porphyry,^ a native Phoe- nician, who published the JEnneads. Porphyry is still more convinced than his master of the identity of the doctrines of the Academy and the Lj^ceum. Although much inferior to Plotinus, on whom his teachings essentially depend, he, 1 Enneads, V., 5, 10. 2 /^.^ jy.^ 3^ 30, 3 Died at Rome, 301. 180 GREEK PHILOSOPHY nevertheless, exercised an influence on the progress of phi- losophy during the following centuries, because of the clear- ness with which he set forth the problem of universals in his Introduction to the Categories of Aristotle.^ Indeed, the question whether genera and species are realities apart from the thought which conceives them, forms the chief topic of interest during the Middle Ages. Neo-Platonism changes in character towards the end of the fourth century without essentially modifying its prin- ciples. Plotinus and Porphyry, who antedate the reign of Constantine and the ultimate triumph of Christianity, are outspoken opponents of superstition, like all the great thinkers since the days of Xenophanes. But among their successors the search for truth is gradually subordinated to the interests of religion and a2)ologetics. After ten cent- uries of opposition against traditional religion, pliilosophy became alarmed at its work of destruction ; it came to the conclusion that its stubborn opposition had simply advanced the cause of a religion that was foreign to the Greek spirit and hostile to classic culture, and that its official repre- sentatives would be a thousand times more intolerant than the Greek and Roman priesthood. Thus it happened that philosophy, the sworn enemy of the popular faith, became the palladium of the persecuted gods ; she became ancilla Panthei^ prior to becoming ancilla Ecclcsice. To promote 1 Porphyrii de quinque vocihus, sive in categorias Aristoielis introductio (eiVa-ytoyj}), Paris, 1543 ; Latin translation, Venice, 1546, 1566. We also have of Porphyry a Life of Prolagoras, a Life of Plotinus, and an Epistle to Aneho (fragments collected by Gale, Oxford, 1678), etc. Sev- eral of his treatises, the most important perhaps, are lost. Sources : Suidas ; Eunapius, Vita Soph. ; Augustine, De civitate Dei, X. ; the De Mysteriis Mgyptiorum, ascribed to Jainblichus ; [Hitter and Preller, pp. 541 ff.] ; N. Bouillet, Porphyre, soji role dans Vecole neoplatonicienne, etc., Paris, 1864 ; Adrien Naville, Julien VApostat et la philosophie du pohjtheisme, Paris and Neuchatel, 1877. See, besides, the works quoted on p. 166. PORPHYRY, JAMBLICHUS, PROCLUS 181 polytheism, to promote it at all hazards : such was the desperate task undertaken by her. Henceforth she re- gards everything in ^^'^^ganism as good; she not only excuses and tolerates the strangest superstitions, the ex- orcism of spirits, the practices of sorcery, magic, and the- urgy, but even commends them and practises them with feverish zeal. The Greek mind literally lapses into its second childhood. The death-struggle is, however, broken by lucid mo- ments. Among the few surviving defenders of the dying polytlieistic faith we must mention two men who, though compromising with paganism and pompously assuming the title of hierophants, bring the history of ancient philosophy to a brilliant close. I mean Jamblichus of Chalcis in Coelesyria (died about 330), the most distinguished cham- pion of what we call Syrian Neo-Platonism (in order to distinguish this ultra-mystical movement from the philos- ophy of Plotinus, which is still profoundly Greek), and Proclus of Byzantium (412-485), who taught at Athens and occupied a position between the school of Rome and Jamblichus, of whom he Avas an enthusiastic admirer. 2. Jamblichus ^ draws his inspiration from the specula- tions of non-Christian literature, from Pythagoras, Plato, the religious traditions of the Orient and Egypt, and especially from his sacred triple ternary. His mathemati- cal genius and brilliant imagination enable him to under- take a philosophical reconstruction of the pagan Pantheon. The gods emanate from the depths of the unspeakable unity in ternary series, and form a triple halo, as it were, ^ De vita Pythagona ; Protrepticm orationes ad philosophiam ; De mysteriis ^^jgptiorum (Greek and Latin ed. by Th. Gale, Oxford, 1678 ; by G. Parthey, Berlin, 1857). Other sources : Proclus, In Tiinoium'y Suidas ; [Ritter and Preller, pp. 516 ff.]; llebenstreit, De JamhlicJu, pJiilosopJii Syri^ doctrina^ etc., Leipsic, 1761. [Engl. tr. of Life of Pythar/oras, by Taylor, London, 1818 ; Egyptian Mysteries, Chiswick, 1821. J 182 GREEK PHILOSOPHY around the Monad of monads. He opposes the Christian conception of the God-man and exaggerates the theological spiritualism of Plotinus by declaring the absolute to be non-communicahle (a/j.e6€fCTo^). The Supreme God is not only divested of all intelligence, but of all qualities what- soever. Hence the real beings do not participate in the absolute unity but in the secondary unities (ivaSe^;) eman- ating from it. These beings are also transcendent (virep- ovcTLac)^ but plural. This hierarchy of derived gods is divided into tliree stages : intellectual gods {voepoi)^ supra- mundane gods (vTrepKoa/jLLOL')^ and the immanent gods of the world (e'yKoaixiOi). We come into communication only with these gods (the Ideas of Plato, the Numbers of P3rthagoras, the substantial Forms of Aristotle) ; they are our Providence. The absolute has no share in the gover- nance of things. 3. Proclus ^ derives the priestly characteristics of his philosophy from Jamblichus, and his systematic and schol- astic tendencies from Plotinus. He bases his system on the triple triad of Jamblichus, and deduces from the abso- lute and non-communicable (^ajjieOeicTo^) unity: first, being (6V), i. e., the infinite (aTreipov), the end or form (irepaf;)^ and their unity, the finite (^/jLtfcrov^ TreTrepacr/jLevov) : secondly, Ufe (5'ft)^), i. e., potentiality (Swa/xi?), existence (virap^L^)^ and their unity, intelligible life (fw?) vor^rrf) ; thirdly, intel- ligence (z^oO?), i. e., static thought (/xeW^^'), thought in motion or perception Qn-poLevaC)^ and their unity, reflective 1 Works of Proclus : In theologiam Platonis, libri VI. ; Institutio theo- logica ; In Platonis Timceum, etc. Prodi opera omnia, ed. V. Cousin, Paris, 1819-27, 2d ed. in 6 vols., 1864; [Ritter and PreUer, pp. 556 ff.]. See on Proclus: Marinus, Vita Prodi; Suidas ; Berger, Prodits, expo- sition de sa doctrine, Paris, 1840 ; J. Simon, Du Commentaire de Prodm siir U Timee de Platan, Paris, 1839; C. H. Kirchner, De Prodi neo- platonici metaphydca, Berlin, 1846. See also concerning Jamblichus and Proclus the histories of the Alexandrian school mentioned on page 166. PORPHYRY, JAMBLICHUS, PROCLUS 183 thought (i7n(TTpo naturalibus, sicut Joannes Baptista in rehiis gratvAtis. This reaction was no more than natural. True, Aristotle was a pagan philosopher, and consequently an opponent of the faith; but if, in spite of that, his doctrine should be found to agree with the Gospel, it would add all the more to the glory of Christ. Aristotle taught the existence of a God apart from the universe, and that alone ought to have won him the sympathies of the Church threatened by the pantheistic heresy, which appealed to Plato for aid. More than that; Aristotle offered the Church a system which she had the greatest interest in appropriating, with certain limitations. The times had already become familiar with the conception of nature. They spoke of nature and its course as opposed to God and the effects of liis Avill. Christian thought could not help returning to this funda- mental conception of science, in the course of its develop- ment, while the Church could no more oppose it than she could hinder the formation of the European States. She could not destroy these States, and therefore made them subject to herself; she was unable to extirpate the con- ception of nature, and therefore drew it into her service. Now, the metaphysics of Aristotle was admirably fitted for such a purpose. For, does not Aristotle regard nature as a 238 PHILOSOPHY OF THE MIDDLE AGES hierarchical system of which God — and consequently the Church — is both the basis and the summit? With the admirable tact which seldom failed her, Catholicism recog- nized Aristotle in order to make capital out of him. But the chief advantage resulting from an alliance with Peripatetic philosophy was the following: As soon as Aristotle's system received recognition as the only authen- tic expression of human reason, its authority naturally tran- scended that of free thought. Hence Peripateticism gave the Church a still better means of regulating Scholastic phi- losophy than she already possessed. During the Platonic period thought enjoyed a relative independence; its ob- ject was to prove the agreement between the dogma and natural reason; and, as we have seen, it was quite rational- istic in the performance of this task. Henceforth the ques- tion no longer is to prove the agreement between the dogma and natural reason, but its agreement with the letter of Aristotle's writings. The proof of this agree- ment makes Aristotle the highest authority and his system the official criterion of a philosopher's orthodoxy. Aristotle still stands for reason, but reason now is disciplined and re- duced to a fixed code. Left to itself, reason is a change- able authority, and its agreement with faith not necessarily a settled fact. What to St. Anselm seemed agreement, Abelard, Gilbert, Amalric, and David regarded as contra- dictory. The mind is mobile, revolutionary ; the letter is eminently conservative. By adopting the philosophy of Aristotle, the Church made use of the most illustrious thinker in order to enslave thought. The advantages arising from this alliance with Peripa- tetic philosophy were, it is true, accompanied by disadvan- tages that became serious dangers in the sequel. In the first place, the truth of the dogma was proved by its agree- ment with Aristotle ; this raised the authority of Aristotle and philosophy above the authority of the Church. Then rERIPATETICS OF THE THIRTEENTH CENTURY 239 the influence of the Stagirite necessarily introduced into Scholasticism a new element, not very favorable to the spiritual omni23otence of the Church : the taste for science and the spirit of analysis. § 38. The Peripatetics of the Thirteenth Century The Church was converted to Peripateticism by a num- ber of eminent thinkers who were less original than St. Anselm and Abelard, but, owing to tlie more abundant material at their disposal, more learned than their prede- cessors. At their head stands the Englishman Alex- ander OF Hales,^ professor of theology at Paris, whose commentaries on the Sentences of Peter the Lombard and the De anima of Aristotle won for him the title doctor irrefragahilis. Williajvi of Auvergne, Bishop of Paris,^ whose learn- ing equalled that of Alexander, wrote a series of treatises insj^ired by Aristotle, and a voluminous work, Be unlverso, a kind of metaphysics, the wonderful erudition of which proves that the author was thoroughly acquainted with the Arabian commentaries on the Stagirite. His Peripatetic leanings, however, did not hinder him from denying the eternity of the world, nor from believing in creation, Prov- idence, and the immortality of the soul. The Dominican Vincent of Beauvais,^ the teacher of the sons of St. Louis, gathers the treasures of learning and of Peripatetic speculation in his Speculum quadi^uplcx : na- turale, doctrinale, morale^ et historialc. He cites almost all the writings of Aristotle, and already speaks triumphantly of the nova logicct as opposed to the logica vetus. He is an 1 Died 1245. Summa universce theologies, Venice, 1576. 2 Died 1249. Opera, ed. Blaise Leferon, Orleans, 1674; [N. Valois, Guillaume d'Auvergne, Paris, 1880]. 8 Died 1264. Speculum doctrinale, Strasburg, 1473 ; Speculum qua- druplex, etc., 1624. 240 PHILOSOPHY OF THE MIDDLE AGES open adherent of the Lyceum on the subject of universals, which still forms the chief topic of discussion among the Schoolmen, and declares with Abelard ; Universale in re. Universals are real, even more real than particulars, with- out, however, existing independently of particulars. As in the system of Abelard, universals and particulars are no longer abstractly and mechanically juxtaposed in the meta- physics of Vincent, but are joined together by the principle of individuation (incorjJoratio). A new terminology is used by this Schoolman to express Aristotelian conceptions. The Ti ia-TL of Aristotle, for example, becomes the qitidditas. The philosophical vocabulary is developed and enriched at the expense of Ciceronian Latin, which the Renaissance afterwards undertakes to rescue from the neglect of the School. Though a realist, in so far as he regards the universal as a reality, Vincent makes an important advance towards nominalism by distinguishing between universale meta- physicicm and universale logicum, i. e., between the specific type which really exists in the individuals composing the species and the general notion which corresponds to this type, and is but an abstraction of thought. This distinc- tion is a nominalistic deviation from realism, for the pure realism of Champeaux and Anselm absolutely iden- tities the specific type and the general idea. It is, how- ever, far from being pure nominalism, for nominalism is the absolute negation of the universale mctaphysiciom as an objective reality. Another Dominican, who has already been mentioned,^ Albert of Bollstadt,^ wrote commentaries on most of Aristotle's works, and labored with untiring zeal for the 1 §37. 2 Albertus Magnus, died at Cologne in 1280. Opera, ed. by P. Jammy, Lyons, 1651 (21 folio vols.). [J. Sighart, Albertus Magnus, etc., Regensburg, 1857; Eng. tr. by Dixon, 1870.] ST. THOMAS OF AQUIN 241 propagation of the Peripatetic philosophy. He manifests a remarkable taste for natural science, in wliich respect he anticipates Roger Bacon, Kaymundus LuUus, and the scientific Renaissance. We see how dangerous the Peri- patetic alliance proved to the Church ! The Franciscan John of Fidanza, known as St. Bona- VENTUEA,! is less learned and less interested in natui'e, but more speculative than Albert. He admires both Aristotle , and Plato, rational pliilosophy and contemplative mysti-^ cism, piety and knowledge, thus uniting in his person twoj elements which were growing farther and farther apart. The Church recognized his services by canonizing him, and the School bestowed upon him the title of doctor scraj^hicus. Finally, two illustrious rivals complete the Peripatetic galaxy of the thirteenth century and finish the work of conciliation between the Church and the Lyceum : the Dominican St. Thomas of Aquin and the Franciscan Duns Scotus. § 39. St. Thomas of Aquin Thoimas of Aquin 2 (Aquino), the son of a nol)le family in the kingdom of Naples, preferring the peaceful pleas- 1 Died 1274. Author of a Commentary on the Sentences of the Lom- bard, of an Itinerarium mentis in Deum, conceived in the spirit of the mystics of St. Victor, etc. Edition of Strasburg, 1482, Rome, 1588, ff., etc.; [K. Werner, Die Psycholofjie und Erhenntnisslehre des Bonaventura, Vienna, 1876.] 2 Opera omnia, Rome, 1570 (18 foho vols.); Venice, 1594; Ant- werp, 1612; Paris, 1660; Venice, 1787; Parma (25 vols.), 1852-71; [Thomas Aquinatis opera omnia Jussu impensaque Leonis XJIL, P. M. edita, vols. I. & II., Rome (Freiburg i. B.), 1882, 84]; Ch. Joiu'dain, La philosophie de Saint Thomas d' Aquin, Paris, 1858; Cacheux, De la philosophie de Saint Thomas, Paris, 1858; [Karl Werner, Der heilige Thomas von Aqimio, 3 vols., Regensl)urg, 1858 ff. ; Z. Gonzales, Estudios sobre la filosojia de S. Tomds, o vols., Manila, 1864 (German translation by C. J. Xolte, Regensburg, 1885). — Tr.] He was called doctor anrjelicus. 16 242 PHILOSOPHY or the middle ages ures of study to the adventurous life of a feudal lord, entered the order of St. Dominic, in spite of the formal pro- tests of his father. On the eve of his departure from Italy to Paris, he was kidnapped by his brothers and imprisoned in the paternal castle, from wliich he managed to escape two years later. Taking up his abode at Cologne, he be- came an enthusiastic disciple of Albert the Great and a profound student of Aristotle. Henceforth all his efforts were directed towards acquainting the Christian Occident with the Aristotelian philosophy as set forth in the Greek text, particularly with the Physics and Metai'^hysics^ of which only Latin translations made from Arabian trans- lations were known. He afterwards returned to the Peninsula, where he died in 1274, scarcely fifty years of age. Philosophy is indebted to him for a series of treatises bearing on the metaphysics of Aristotle (Opuscula dc matericc natura, de ente et essentia, de j^Tineiinis naturcc, de prineipio individuationis, dc tmiversa lihus, etc.). His Suinm a theologian which gradually eclipsed the Sentences of Peter the Lom- bard, forms the basis of the dogmatic teachings of the Church. The philosophy of St. Thomas has no other aim than the faithful reproduction of the principles of the Lyceum. We are therefore interested, not so much in the contents, as in the Neo-Latin form in which the ideas of the Stagirite are expressed. Our modern philosophical vocabular}^ is in part derived from the system of St. Thomas. Philosophy proper or the first philosophy has for its ob- ject being as such (e7is in quantum ens — to ov y 6v). There are two kinds of beings {cniia) : objective, real, essential beings {esse in re), and beings that are mere abstractions of thouglit or negations, such, for example, as poverty, blind- ness, and imperfection in general. Poverty, blindness, and privation exist; they are eutia (oVra), but not essen- ST. THOMAS OF AQUIN 243 ticc {ovaiai)} Essences, substances, or beings properly so called {essentkc^ suhstantice) are, in turn, divided into simple or pui^e essences, and essences composed of form and matter. There is but one simple essence or pure form: God. All the rest are composed of matter and form. Matter and form are both beings (entia); they differ from each other in that form is in actu, while matter is as yet merely in j^otentia. In a general sense, matter is everything that can be, everything that exists in pos- sibility. According as the possible thing is a substance or an accident, metaj^hysics distinguishes between materia ex qua aliquid Jit (potential, substantial being, — example : the human seed is materia ex qua homo fit^ a potential man) and materia in qua aliquid fit (potential accident, — exam- ple : man is materia in qua gignitur intcllectus). Materia ex qua does not exist in itself ; materia in qua exists as a relatively-independent subject {subjectum). The form is what gives being to a thing.'^ According as this thing is a substance or an accident, we have to deal with a substan- tial form or an accidental form. The union of matter {esse in potcntia) and form {esse in actu) is generatio (^yiveaOai}^ which is, in turn, substantial generation or accidental gen- eration. All forms, God excepted, are united with matter and individualized by it, constituting genera, species, and individuals.^ Only the form of forms remahis immaterial and is sub- ject neither to generation nor decay. The more imperfect a form is, the more it tends to increase the number of in- dividuals realizing it ; the more perfect a form is, the less it multiplies its individuals. The form of forms is no longer a species composed of separate individuals, but a single being within which all differences of person are constantly merged in the unit}^ of essence. Since God 1 Opnf^cuhim rle ente et essentia. 2 Opusc. fie principiis naturce. ^ Id., c. 3. 244 PHILOSOPHY OF THE MIDDLE AGES alone is pui-e form {actus j^uriis), without matter and con- sequently without imperfection (matter being that Avhich does not yet exist, or the lack of being), God alone is the perfect and complete knowledge of thingSo^ He possesses absolute truth because he is absolute truth. Truth is the agreement of thought with its object. In man, there is more or less agreement between thoughts and objects ; they are, however, never identical. God's ideas not only exactly reproduce the tilings, they arc the tilings them- selves. Thino-s first exist and then man thinks them : in God, thought precedes the thiiigs, which exist only because and as he thinks them. Hence there is no difference in him between thought and being; and, since this identity of knowledge and its object constitutes truth, God is truth itself. From the fact that he is the truth it follows that he exists ; for it is not possible to deny the existence of truth ; the very persons who deny it assume a reason for doing so, and thus maintain its existence.^ The demonstration of the existence of God is the first and principal task of philosophy. Philosophy could not, however, perform this task, or even have a conception of God, had not the Creator first revealed himself to man in Jesus Christ. In order that the human mind niio^ht direct its efforts towards its real goal, it was necessary for God to point it out, that is, to reveal himself to humanity at the very beginning. No philosophy is legitimate that does not take revelation for its starting-point and return to it as its final goal : it is true only when it is ancilla ecclesice, and, in so far as Aristotle is the precursor of Christ in the scien- tific sphere, ancilla Aristotclis. The Church of God is the goal towards which all things tend here below. Nature is a hierarchy in which each stage is the form of the lower stage and the onattcr of the higher stage. The ^ Summa tJicologice, I., question 4. 2 Iisf nwans to he an individual. Finally, the Franciscan Wh-lia.m of OccAM,^ tlie precursor and fellow-countryman of John Locke, openly antagonizes realism as an absurd system. According to the realists, he says, the universal exists in several things at once ; now the same thing cannot exist simultaneously in several different things ; hence the universal is not a tiling, a reality {res)^ but a mere sign that serves to desig- nate several similar things, a jyord (nomen) ; and there is nothing real except the individual.'"^ Scepticism is the necessary consequence of nominalism, which has already been outlined in § 33. Science has for its object the general, the universal, the necessary. The science of man, let us say in the spirit of Plato, does not deal with Peter for the sake of Peter, or with Paul for the sake of Paul; it studies Peter and Paul in order to know what man is. It is the universal man, the species man, whom it seeks in the individual. The same is true of all sciences. Now, if the universal is a mere word having no objective reality, and if the individual alone is real, then there can be no anthropology, nor any science. 1 Born in Auvergne, died 1332, Bishop of Meaux. Comment, in mag. sentent., Paris, 1508 ; Lyons, 1568. 2 Died 1343. Quodlibeta septem, Strasburg, 1491 ; Summa totius logices, Paris, 1488 ; Oxford, 1675 ; Quccstlones in lihros physicorum^ Strasburg, 1491 ; Qiicestiones et decisiones in quatuor lib. sent., Lyons, 1495; Centilogium theol., Lyons, 1496; Expositio aurea super totam artem veterem, Bologna, 1496. [Cf. W. A. Schreiber, Die politischen und religidsen Doctrine?! unter Ludicig dem Baier, Landshut, 1858 ; Prantl, Geschichie der Logik, Vol. III., pp. 327-420. — Tr.] 2 Occam, In I. I. sententiarum, dist. 2, question 8. 254 PHILOSOPHY OF THE MIDDLE AGES We can know and tell what both Peter and Paul are ; we can study each particular plant and animal ; but the universal man, plant, and animal can never become objects of science, because they nowhere exist. Hence, nominalism is scep- tical of science ; its motto agrees with that of Protagoras : The individual is the measure of all things. The highest science, theology, does not escape William's sceptical criticisms. He accepts the teaching of liis master, and declares that it is impossible to demonstrate the exist- ence and unity of God.^ The ontological and cosmologi- cal arguments are equally weak, in his judgment, and the necessity for the existence of a first cause seems to him to be a purely hypothetical necessity. Indeed, reason may invariably oppose the no less probable theory of the infinite causal series. Hence, there can be no rational or scientific theology ; and if the science pursued by such thinkers as Origen, Augustine, Anselmus, and Thomas is impossible, then Scholasticism itself becomes a mere heap of barren hypotheses. Science belongs to God, faith to man. Let the doctors of the Church recognize the futility of their speculations, and become interpreters of practical truth and propagators of the faith ! Let the Churcli abandon this empty, terrestrial science ! Let her cast off all the worldly elements with which she has been tainted by her contact with the world ; let her reform and return to the simplicity, purity, and holiness of the Apostolic times ! Though Occam sided with the King in the quarrel between Philip the Fair and the Holy See ; and though he fled from France and offered his services to Louis of Bavaria,^ who was also at loggerheads with the Vicar of Christ, he was neither hostile nor indifferent to the Church. 1 Occam, In I. I. sentent., dist. 3, quest. 4; Centihxjlum thcologicum, f. 1. ^ He is said to have addressed the following remark to Louis : Tu me defendas gladio, ego te defcndam calamo. REAPPEARANCE OF NOMINALISM 255 On the contrary, like all true followers of St. Francis, he felt a deep love for his spiritual mother. And because he loved her, he desired to see her great and holy and removed from the harmful influences of the world ; he could not approve of the Pope's interference with the temporal affairs of the European States. It was his devotion to the Church that forced him to make common cause with the enemies of the Holy Father. Nominalism not only weakens the alliance between faith and science ; it also attempts to sever the bond which had for centuries united the Church with the world. Its reap- pearance not only marks the decline of Scholasticism ; sim- ultaneously with it, we notice the first symptoms of the decadence of the Papal power, to wdiich the European mon- archs henceforth offer a successful resistance. The nomin- alism of Occam, though sincere in its desire to promote the welfare of the Church, nevertheless resembles all philos- ophy ; it mirrors the ruling purpose of the age, i. e., the necessity on part of the secular powers, the states, the nations, the languages, intellectual culture, the arts, the sciences, and philosophy, to shake off the yoke of Christian Rome. From the reappearance of nominalism we date the first beginnings of national life and modern languages, and tlie opposition to the political, religious, and literary cen- tralization, to Avhich the heir of Caesarean traditions had subjected Europe. Nominalism therefore conceals beneath its seeming devotion to the Church and its pious contempt for science, a mass of tendencies hostile to Catholicism. And the Church gives it the same reception which she had given Aristotle a century before : she condemns it. But the heresy had taken deep root this time ; it satisfied the political, intellectual, and religious strivings of the epoch too well to be suppressed. The doctrines of Durand and Occam gave the signal for the struggle betAveen the realists and nominalists. The con- 256 PHILOSOPHY OF THE MIDDLE AGES flict raofed clurino- the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries ; (DO ^ it transformed the universities into veritable fields of battle — the expression is not a metaphor — and continued down to the Renaissance and Reformation. Realism had dis- tinguished followers during the fourteenth century, e. g., Walter Buiileigh, who defended it in the name of science and philosophy ; Thomas of Bradwardhste,^ Archbishop of Canterbury, who upheld it in the name of the faith, and accused Occam of Pelagianism; Thomas of Strasburg,^ and Marsilius of Inghen,^ the first rector of the Univer- sity of Heidelberg, who tried to reconcile the opposing doc- trines. But even in its conceptualistic form, it attracted onl}^ the most speculative minds ; the clear and well-defined conceptions of nominalisin appealed more and more to what is called common-sense. In spite of the obstinate resistance of the realistic party and of the government which this party had succeeded in interesting in its behalf, the teach- ings of Occam eventually made their way into the Sorbonne, where they were ably reproduced by John Buridan,* and more or less modified in the dogmatic sense, by Pierre D'AiLLY,^ the eagle of Franee. Nominalism represented the reformatory tendencies of the times, and could not but triumph. § 42. Downfall of Scholasticism. Revival of the Interest in Nature and Experimental Science. Roger Bacon. Mysticism In vain did the nominalist Pierre d'Ailly struggle against the conclusions of Occam, and attempt to defend 1 Died 1349. 2 Djed 1357. « Died 1396. ^ Died about 1360. He wrote Summa dialect., Paris, 1487; Comp. log., Venice, 1480 ; and a series of commentaries on Aristotle, pub- lished in Paris and Oxford. ^ Died 1425. Qucesdones super quatuor I. sent., Strasburg, 1490 ; Tractatus et sermones, 1490. DOWNFALL OF SCHOLASTICISM 257 Scholasticism against the claims of scepticism. The alliance between the essential elements of Scholasticism had been seriously weakened. It is true, Occam, Durand, Buridan, and Gabriel Biel,^ are sceptics only in metaphysics ; still by holding that w^e can hww nothing of God, Providence, the Fall, Redemption, Resurrection, and Judgment, and that we must be content with helieving all these doctrines, they make them uncertain and problematical, and involuntarily advance the cause of heterodoxy. They themselves give up science for faith; others, who are less devoted to the Church, gradually abandon faith and become freethinkers. Thus in 1347, John of Mercuria, a member of the Cis- tercian order, was condemned for having taught : (1) that everything that happens in the world, the evil as well as the good, is effected by the divine will ; (2) that sin is a good rather than an evil ; (3) that he who succumbs to an irresistible temptation does not sin. Thus also in 1342, a bachelor of theology, Nicolas of Autricuria, had the boldness to present the following theses to the Sorbonne : (1) We shall easily and quickly reach certain knowledge, if we abandon Aristotle and his commentaries, and devote ourselves to the study of nature itself. (2) It is true, we conceive God as the most real being, but we cannot know whether such a being exists or not. (3) The universe is infinite and eternal ; for a passage from non-being to being is inconceivable. — Such expressions of free thought were as yet uncommon, but for that very reason all the more remarkable. Speculative philosophy and its anti-scholastic strivings received a powerful ally in the experimental sciences, which were revived by the study of Aristotle's works on physics and by the influence of the Arabian schools of Spain; to these we owe our system of numerals, the elementary principles of algebra and chemistry, and our 1 Professor at Tiihingeii, di(3d 1-195. 17 258 PHILOSOPHY OF THE MIDDLE AGES knowledge of the astronomical traditions of the Orient. The instruction offered in Christian schools was purely dialectical and formal ; it trained the mind for discussion, but left it an utter blank. As early as the Jthirteenth century, the Franciscan monk Roger Bacon,^ a professor at Oxford, recognized the serious imperfections in the system, and conceived the plan of reforming it by the introduction of the sciences. His three works, Opus majus^^ Ojms minus, and Ojnis tertium,^ the fruit of twenty years' investigation, to which he devoted his entire for- tune, constitute the most remarkable scientific monument of 1 the Middle Ages. Not only does he call attention to the barrenness of the scholastic logomachies, the necessity of observing nature and of studying the languages, but he recognizes, even more clearly than his namesake of the sixteenth century, the capital importance of mathematical deduction as an auxiliary to the experimental method. Nay, more than that ; he enriches science, and especially optics, with new and fruitful theories. But his scientific reforms were premature in the year 12G7, which marks the appearance of his 02ms inajiis. His plan was submitted to the court of Rome, but owing to the intrigues of the obscurantist party, it fell flat, and procured for Roger twelve years of confinement. The seed sown by tliis most clear-sighted thinker of the Middle Ages upon the barren soil of Scholasticism did not spring up until three cen- turies later. Albert the Great (§ 38), though not attaining to Bacon's eminence, shows a marked preference for the study of 1 Doctor mirabilis, 1214-1294. '^ Ed. Jebb, London, 1773, foHo. ' In Rogeri Bacon Opera qucedam hacfenus inedita, ed. J. J. Brewer, London, 1859; Charles, Roger Bacon, m vie, ses ouvrages, ses doctrines, (Tapres des textes ine'dits, Bordeaux, 18(51 ; [K. Werner, Psychologic, ErJcenntniss- und Wissenschaftslehre des Roger Baco, Vienna, 1879. — Til.]. DOWNFALL OF SCHOLASTICISM 259 nature, which he himself, like liis age, confused with magic. During the same epoch, Don Raymond Lullus^ of Palma, a curious mixture of theologian and naturalist, missionary and troubadour, endeavored to popularize the science of the Arabians by means of a universal method, which he called ars magna. His teachings, which were recorded in numer- ous writings, gained for liim, during the succeeding cen- turies, enthusiastic followers, whose chief concern was to discover the philosopher's stone and to make gold. As- sisted by such trifles, the human mind gradually returned to the observation of reality, and came to regard nature as an object of study no less important than Aristotle. About 1400, the physician RA\^^IOND of Sabltnde,^ a professor at Toulouse, had the boldness to prefer to books made by human hands the hooh of nature, which being the ivorh of God is intelligihle to all. The official pliilosophy, with its barren formalism, its ignorance of reality, and its hopeless indolence, had arrayed against it thought chafing under the yoke of the ecclesiastical Aristotle and yearning for progress and free- dom, and natural science, which foreshadowed its future grandeur in the rudimentary form of magic. Finally, it also gave offence to religious feeling and mystical piety because of its inability to supply the soul with substan- tial nourishment and to inspire the Christian life with an ardent love for goodness. Mysticism had for cen- turies been the ally of Scholastic speculation ; in Scotus Erigena, the sages of St. Victor, and St. Bonaventura, it tempered the cold reasonings of the School with its glow- ing warmth, and descended upon their barren logic like ^ 1234-1315. Raymundi LuUi Opera, ^iva^hwvg, IbQ^ \ Opera omnia, ed. Salzinger, Mayence, 1721 ff. ^ Died 1436. Rahnundi liber naturce sive creaturarum (tlieolociia natu- rails), Strasburg, 1190 ; Paris, 1509 ; Sulzbacli, 1852 ; Kleiber, De Rarmundi vita et scriptis, Berlin, 1856. 2G0 PHILOSOPHY OF THE MIDDLE AGES a refreshing dew. It widened the narrow circle of an in- tolerant orthodoxy by emphasizing the fides qua creditur instead of the fides quae creditur^ by laying greater stress uj)on faith itself as a subjective phenomenon and the ani- mating principle of the soul, than upon the object of faith. But the more deeply Scholasticism became absorbed in formal disputes and childish discussions, the more distaste- ful and antagonistic it became to tlie religious spirit which longed for a life in God and was stifled by the categories of Aristotle. Some mystics, like St. Bernard ^ and Walter of St. Victor, inveigh against logic because they consider it dangerous to the dogmas of the Church. Others, who are less scrupulous in this respect, but equally anxious to possess God, are carried away by the ardor of their religious sentiments to the extreme conclusions of pan- theistic speculation. According to them, dialectics is a labyrinth in which the soul, instead of reaching God, is farther and farther removed from him, and finally loses him altogether. Feeling, they believe, brings us directly into communion with God ; with one bound we overcome the obstacles of discursive thought and are carried to the centre of things and the source of being, where self-consciousness is merged in the consciousness of God. According to some, feeling alone will transport the soul by enchantment to the summit of existence and the source of life. So Eckhaiit,^ the Dominican provincial of Cologne and a tj^ical panthe- istic mystic. Others, though seeking to be united with God, do not expect to reach their goal except after long and wearisome trials ; hence, to the love of God they add the love of goodness and moral struggle as indispensable con- 1 1091-1158. 2 Died about 1300. [Bach, Meister Eclcliart, etc, Vienna, 1864; Lasson, Meister Eckhart, der MystiJcer, Berlin, 1868] ; Ch. Jundt, Essai sur le mysticisme speculatif de maitre Eclcliart, Strasburg, 1871. THE REVIV^AL OF LETTERS 261 d it ions of the Christian nirvana to which they aspire. To this class belong John Taulee,i a Dominican preacher of Cologne and Strasburg, John Wessel,*^ and Thoinias a KEi\n*is,3 the supposed author of the Imitation of Christ ; all of these are indebted for the new element in their teachings to the wholly Pelagian influence of nominalism. Tliis intluence is still more pronounced in the Frenchman John Gerson,* the chancellor, and Nicolas of Clemanges,^ the rector, of the University of Paris, whose mjsticism is notliing but moral asceticism, and differs essentially from its German namesake. But beneath these different forms lurks one and the same anti-scholastic tendency, one and the same spirit of reform. § 43. The Revival of Letters Corresponding to each of the elements of progress just mentioned, we notice a group of highly important historical facts, which give a decided impetus to these tendencies. Free thought eagerly seizes upon the literary master- pieces of antiquity, wliich are made known b}^ Greek emigrants, and which the timely invention of printing helps to render accessible to all. The scientific spirit of the age and its naturalistic bent, admirably assisted by the inven- tion of the compass and the telescope, triumphs in the discovery of America and of the Solar System. The con- templation of these new and infinite worlds arouses feel- ings of enthusiasm and confidence which become more and more dangerous to Scholasticism and the authoritative 1 Died 1301. [Editions of Tauler's sermons, Leipsic, 1498; Bale, 1521 f.; Cologne, 1543. Modern edition, Frankfurt a. M., 1826 and 1864. — Tr.] 2 Died 1489. 3 Died 1471. * Died 1429. [Opera, Cologne, 1483 ff.] See C. Schmidt, Essai sm Jean Gerson, Strasburg, 1839. 5 Died 1440. 262 PHILOSOPHY OF THE MIDDLE AGES system of the Church. At the same time, the religious spirit receives encouragement from the great reform move- ment of the sixteenth century, inaugurated by the literary awakening in the fifteenth. Under the auspices of the Byzantine government, which survived the ruin of the ancient Avorld, the Hellenic pen- insula preserved, in antiquated and pedantic form, the literary and philosophical traditions of antiquity, its taste for classical learning, and its love for the great philosophers, Plato and Aristotle. Here the writings of these thinkers were studied in the original at a time when Greek was not only a dead language but absolutely unknown in the Occi- dent. A kind of worship grew up around them, and the more impossible it seemed to surpass them, the greater admir- ation they inspired. As long as such stars and their satellites shone in the heavens of Byzantium and Athens, the taste for learned studies and free speculation could not disappear from Grecian soil, and even the theological pedantry of the Emperors could not destroy it. In the main, therefore, the Orient exerted a wholesome and lib- eralizing influence on the Occident. In a certain sense, this influence goes back to the period of the Crusades. By an " irony of fate," not unfrequent in history, the Catholic Church failed to reap the expected fruits of these expeditions. The Orient had been invaded in the name of the Koman faith, and the Crusaders brought back nothing but heresies. The futile efforts made by the Western Church, during the first half of the fifteenth century, to bring about a reconciliation with the Eastern Church resulted similarly. The influence of the Greek Orient was beneficial to the Occident, but injurious to the hierarchical tendencies of Catholicism. Some centuries before, the Calabrians, Barlaam and Leontius Pilatus, and, after them, Dante, Petrarch, and Boccaccio had cultivated a taste for Greek literature in Italy ; but the Orient did THE REVIVAL OF LETTERS 263 not exercise a direct and lasting influence upon Europe until after 1438, when the Bj^antine Church sent her scholars to Florence. The object of their mission was the reconciliation of the two churches ; but they became the missionaries of classical ciA-ilization from the Orient to the Empire of the Popes. Greek scholars flocked to Italy in still greater numbers, causing a veritable migration from the Orient, when Byzantium and the last remains of the Eastern Empire fell into the hands of the Turks (1453). This event raised Italy to the position whi'ch she had occupied in literature, art, and philosophy two thousand years before ; she again became Magna Graccia. In the year 1440, the Greek scholar, Georgius GE:NnsTUS Pletho,^ an ambassador to the Council of Florence, whom the munificence of Cosmo dei Medici had succeeded in detaining in Italy, founded a Pla- tonic Academy in Florence. His fellow-countryman Bes- SARION 2 succeeded him in the government of the school and in the work of propaganda. He defended the Acad- emy against his compatriots Gennadius, Theodoras Gaza, and Georgius of Trebizond, followers of the Lyceum, and gained a large number of Italian adherents for Plato, not- withstanding the opposition of the Peripatetics and their orthodox supporters. The fellow-countrymen of Dante were completely fasci- nated with the Greek language. It was studied with the passionate ardor peculiar to the Italian people. Philosophy became the all-important science. The Venetian Hermo- LAus Barbarus, Laurenticjs Valla of Rome, and An- ^ Ilf pi u>v *Apt(TTOTe\rjs npos TiXdrayva 8ta(f)€p€Tai, Paris, 1540 ; No/iicoi/ avyypacpr] (fragments collected by C. Alexandre and translated into French by A. Pellissier, Paris, 1858). [See F. Schultze, Geschichte der PJiilosophie der Renaissance, vol. I., Geo. Gem. Plethon, Jena, 1874. — Tr.] 2 Adversus calumniatores Platonis, Rome, 1469; [Oj)era omnia, ed. Mi-ne, Paris, ISfKJj. 264 PHILOSOPHY OF THE MIDDLE AGES GELUS PoLiTiANUS were zealous disciples of the exiles of Bj^zantium. The love of ancient literature and the dislike for the language of the School extended even to the leaders of the Church. The Cardinal Nicolas of Cusa (Kuss i), who possessed the qualities of a Bruno and a Descartes, had the courage openly to criticise the errors of Scholasticism, and recommended the philosophy of Plato, which he iden- tified with the Pythagorean theory of numbers, as in every way preferable to the reigning system. The wave of classi- cism even readied tlie throne of St. Peter; and it is a well-known fact that Leo X. and his secretary Bembo greatly preferred Cicero to the Vulgate. The religion of Virgil and Homer superseded the religion of Christ in the hearts of the high dignitaries of the Church and the secu- lar scholars, poets, and artists; the joyful Olympus was exchanged for the severe Golgotha ; Jehovah, Jesus, and Mary became Jupiter, Apollo, and Venus ; the saints of the Church were identified with the gods of Greece and Rome, — in a word, the times returned to paganism. Maesilius Ficmus,2 a pupil of the Florentine Acad- emy, continues the struggle begun by Bessarion in behalf of ^ Diocese of Treves. Cusanus, whose real name was Krebs, died in 1461. His Works appeared in three folio volumes, Paris, 1514 [German transl. of his most important writings, by F. A. Scharpff, Freiburg, 1862]. The best known of his treatises, De docta ignorantia, is found in the first volume. The second, which contains his treatises on astronomy and mathematics, makes him the forerunner of Coper- nicus and of the reform of the calendar. He anticipates Bruno by his doctrine of the absolute unity-God, and Schelhng and Hegel by his conception of the coincidence of contradictories. See Richard Falcken- berg, Grundzilge der PJtilosophie des Nicolas von Cusanus, Breslau, 1880. 2 A Florentine, 1433-1499. Florence and the century of the liter- ary renaissance also produced the great politician and Italian patriot, Nicolo Macchiavelli (1469-1527), the author of 11 principe, etc. [works translated by C. E. Detmold, Boston, 1883], whose system is based on the principle that the end justifies the means (separation of politics frons morals). NEO-PLATONISM 265 Plato. For him, Platonism is tlie quintessence of human wisdom, the key to Christianity, and the only efficient yneans of rejuvenating and spiritualizing the Catholic doc- trine. As the editor, translator, and commentator of Plato and the Alexandrians, Marsilius Ficinus is one of the fathers of modern classical philology as well as of the phil- osophical Renaissance. An equally distinguished person is the Count John Pico op Mir andol a (1463-1494). Pico recommends Hebrew in addition to the study of the Greek language and literature ; believing, as he does, that the Jew- ish Cabala ^ is as important a source of wisdom as Plato and the New Testament. He bequeaths his love of phi- lology and his Cabalistic prejudices to his nephew, John Francis Pico of Mirandola, a less talented but more pious man than his uncle, and to the German Reuchlin, who, upon returning to the Empire, becomes the founder of classical and Hebrew philology in his country, and by com- bating Hochstraten and the obscurantists paves the way for the spiritual deliverance of his native land. § 44. Neo-Platonism. Theosophy. Magic The mixture of new ideas and old superstitions gives rise to a number of curious theories, partially modelled after Neo-Platonic doctrines, which represent the stages, as it were, by which the philosophical and scientific mind gains its independence. They may be classed under the title tlicosofliy . Theosophy shares theology's belief in the supernatural and philosophy's faith in nature. It forms an intermediate stage, a kind of transition, between theology and pure philosophy. It does not attain to the dignity of modern experimental science; for it rests upon an inner revelation, which is superior to sensible experience and 1 Concerning the Cabala, see Munck, S//s(eme de la Kabhale, Paris, 1842 ; Melange;^ dc. pliilosopliie juive et arahe. Paris, 1859. 266 PHILOSOPHY OF THE MIDDLE AGES reasoning. It does not study nature for nature's sake, but in order to discover the traces of the mysterious Being which nature hides as well as reveals. Now, in order to discover it, theosophy needs a key of Sesame, a no less mysterious instrument than the object of its studies. It therefore enters upon a search for secret doctrines, and greedily seizes and utilizes whatever is offered in this line. Hence the enthusiasm which the teachings of the Jewish Cabala and of Neo-Platonism arouse in Pico of Mirandola, who compares them with those of the Bible, and in Reuch- lin, who exalts them in his Dc verho mirifico'^ and his De arte cahalistica? Theosophy is not content with fathoming the great mys- tery ; it does not regard it as enough to know nature ; it desires what Francis Bacon afterwards desired: to rule over it, to master it, to control it. And just as it claims to reach a knowledge of things by means of secret doctrines, it boasts of being able to control them by secret arts, by formulse and mysterious practices. That is to say, it neces- sarily becomes magic or theurgy. ^ Magic is based upon the Neo-Platonic principle that the world is a hierarchy of divine forces, a system of agencies forming an ascending and descending scale, in which the higher agencies com- mand and the lower ones obey. Hence, in order to govern nature and to change it according to his wishes, the theos- ophist must be united with the higher forces on which the sublunary sphere depends; and since, according to Aris- totle and Ptolemy, the heavenly powers or the sidereal agencies are 3uch higher forces, astrology plays an impor- tant part in the lucubrations of the theosophist. This union of Platonism, or rather Pythagoreanism, with theurgy and magic is best exemplified in Reuchlin's disciple, Agiuppa of ISrettesheim,^ the author of a treatise, 1 Bale, 1494. 2 Hagenau, L517. 3 cf. §§ 25 and 26. 4 Horn at Cologne, 1487 ; died at Grenoble, 15;35. ARISTOTLE VERSUS ARISTOTLE 267 De vanitate scientiarum, directed against scholastic dogma- tism ; in Jerome Cardanus,^ a noted physician and mathe- matician, whose teachings, a singuhir mixture of astro- logical superstitions and liberal ideas, are stamped as anti-Christian by the orthodoxy of the period; in the learned Swiss physician Theophrastus of Hohenheim, called Paracelsus,^ who shares the belief of Pico, Keuchlin, and Agrippa in the inner light " that is much superior to bestial reason," and their love for the Cabala, whose doc- trines his system identifies with those of Christianity. From the Adam cadmon^ who is none other than Christ, spring, accorchng to Paracelsus, the soul of the world and the many spirits governed by it, the Sylvans, Undines, Gnomes, and Salamanders , and whoever, through absolute obedience to the divine will, is united with the Adam cadmon and with the heavenly intelligences, is the best physician, and possesses the universal panacea, — the phi- losopher's stone. With a great deal of superstition and a little charlatanism, the precursors of the scientific reforma- tion combine a keen love of nature and a profound aversion to Scholasticism, which their opposition largely assists in overthrowing. § 45. Aristotle versus Aristotle, or the Liberal Peripatetics. Stoics. Epicureans. Sceptics While Pletho and Bessarion were preaching Plato, Gen- nadius, Georgius of Trebizond, and Theodorus Gaza, ardent 1 Of Pavia, 1501-1576. Opera omnia, Lyons, 1063. Cardanus is remembered in the history of mathematics by his rule for the sohition of equations of the third degree {Ars magna sive de regulis algeh raids, published 1543, the date of the appearance of Copernicus's Celestial Revolutions'). [Cf. Rixner and Siber, Beitrlige zur GescMchie der PJii/s- iologie, 7 pts., Sulzbach, 1819-26 ; 2d ed. 1829,] 2 1493-1541. Ojyera, Bale, 1589 ; Strasburg, 1616 ff. [Cf. Sigwart, Kleine Schriften, I., pp. 25 ff. : Eucken, Beitrilge, etc., pp. 32 ff.] 268 PHILOSOPHY OF THE MIDDLE AGES Peripatetics and adversaries of the Academy of Florence, introduced the learned Italian public to the study of the texts of Aristotle. The better they became acquainted with the words of the great philosopher, the more they recognized the notable differences between the real Aris- totle and the Aristotle of Scholasticism ; and while Plato, Plotinus, and Proclus attracted the more imaginative minds, the positive thinkers, who were no less hostile to traditional philosophy than the Academicians of Florence, appealed from Aristotle misinterpi'eted to the authentic Aristotle of the Greek texts. As a result, the Stagirite met with a fate similar to that experienced by Hegel about 1835. The sj^stem which had been regarded as the strongest support of the Church was found to disagree with her on several essential points. A liberal Peripatetic school, chiefly composed of laymen, was formed in opposi- tion to official Peripateticism. Although maintaining a prudent reserve towards the Church, these liberal Peripa- tetics assisted in undermining her authoritative system by laying bare, one after another, the heresies of the philo- sopher whom she shielded with blind tenderness. To con- vict an author of heresy whom the Church had declared infallible, was to make the Church fallible ; was to attack her supreme authority in the field of thought; was to respond to the emancipation of conscience, taking place beyond the mountains, with the emancipation of the intellect. In his treatise On the Immortality of the Soul^'^ the leader of the new school,^ Petrus Poiniponatius (Pom- ponazzi^), boldly raises the question whether immortality ^ Tractaius de immortnlitate animae, 1516; numerous editions. 2 Called the school of P.adua, in honor of tlie city in which Pom- ponatius taught. 3 Born at Mantua, 1462; died, 1525; professor at Padua. See on Pomponatius : [F. Fiorentino, Pietro Pomponazzi, Florence, 1868] ; ARISTOTLE VERSUS ARISTOTLE 2G9 is a corollary of Aristotle's principles, and, with Alexander of Aplirodisias,^ answers it in the negative. He thereby, on the one hand, ignores the authoiity of St. Thomas, who had declared that the philosophy of the Stagirite was favorable to this fundamental dogma of religion ; and, on the other, denies the doctrine itself ; for both Pomponatius as well as the Church regarded the philosophy of Aristotle, not as a system among other systems, but as the true phi- losophy. Pomponatius, who had to make his peace with Leo X. in order to escape the anathemas of the Church, declares that he personally believes in immortality, because he accepts the authority of the Church in matters of religion; but it is evident from the manner in which he refutes the objections raised against the opposite view that he does not believe in it. Say what you will, he writes, it cannot be held that all men achieve intellectual perfection ; while moral perfec- tion does not consist in an ideal that cannot be realized on earth, but in the conscientious performance of the duties imposed upon each individual by his special task. The conscientious and upright magistrate attains the per- fection in his sphere of which he is capable and for which he is destined; the industrious farmer, the merchant, the honest and active artisan, realize, each according to his means, the relative perfection of which nature has fur- nished them the elements. Absolute perfection belongs to the absolute Being alone. The argument which infers the immortality of the soul Ad. Franck, Moralist es et philosophes, 2d ed., Paris, 1874 ; [L. Ferri, La psicologla !se, Bordeaux, 1601. 2 Tractatus de multum nohill et prima universali scienfia, quod nihil scitur, Lyons, 1581 ; Tractatus philosopliici, Rotterdam, 1619 ; [cf. L. Gerkrath, Francois Sanchez, Vienna, I860]. 3 Cinq dialogues f aits a rimitation des anciens, Mons, 1673 ; Worl'Sj Paris, 1653. * Mannductio ad stoicam philosophiam, etc., Antwerp, 1604. ^ Be vita, ynorihus et doctrina Epicuri., Leyden, 1647; Animadversio- nes in Diog. L. de vita et phil. Epic, ibid,, 1649; Syntagma pMl Epic, The Hague, 1655; Opera, Leyden, 1658; Florence, 1727; [cf. Lange, Historij of Materialism, I., 3, chap. 3.] ® [K. Hagen, Deutschlands litterarische iind religiose Verhdltnisse im Reformationszeifalter, ^ vols., Frankfurt, 1868; ]\I. CAwiere, Die Welt- anschauung der Reformationszeit ; W. Dilthey, Avffassung und Analyse des Menschen im 15. u. 16. Jahrhundert, Archiv f. Geschichte der Philos., IV. and v.; same author. Das vatUrliche System der Geisteswissen- schaffen im 17. Jahrhundert. ibid., TV. — Tr.] ' §4. THE RELIGIOUS REFORM 275 Humanists demolished, j)iece by piece, tlie system which had been so carefully constructed by the doctors of the Church ; but their excessive prudence or their indifference hindered them from attacking the Church herself, towards whom they affected an attitude of respectful submission. Pomponatius, Scaliger, Erasmus, and Montaigne were more liberal than the leaders of the Reformation ; but their lib- eralism is exactly what rendered them indifferent to religion and unfitted them for the grand work of the emancipation of conscience. The Church was so tolerant of pagan an- tiquity, so fond of classical studies ! The Popes them- selves were so cultured, so liberal, and so worldly ! Yet, the spiritual omni^Dotence of Rome formed one of the chief obstacles in the way of philosophical reform, and it took a more powerful force to shake the colossus than the love of letters or the taste for free thought. Such a force was the religious conscience of Luther and the Reformers. In the name of the inner power that controlled them and im- pelled them onward, they attacked, not the philosophical system patronized by the Cliurch, but the Church herself and the principle of her supreme authority. As we have seen, the mediseval Church is both church and school, the depositary of the means of salvation and the dispenser of profane instruction. As long as the people continued in a state of barbarism, the power which she exercised in this double capacity was beneficent, legiti- mate, and necessar}^ But after the pupil becomes of age, the best of guardians acts as a hindrance from which he seeks deliverance. The Renaissance had actually destroyed the claim, which the Church advanced, of being the sole and privileged school, but it acknowledged the Church as the highest religious and moral authority. The Reforma- tion finishes the work of the fifteenth century by emanci- pating the conscience. The sale of indulgences formed the immediate occasion for the outl^reak. Tliis shameful 276 PHILOSOPHY or the middle ages traffic had been legalized by the Catholic system. Since the Church is God's representative on earth, whatever she commands ao-rees with God's own will. Hence if she demands money from the faithful and couples with the contri])ution the promise of the pardon of sins, the faithful can do nothing- but submit to her authority. The proce- dure may perhaps shock the moral sense a little. But what are our individual feelings against the revelation which tlie Church receives from God? Are God's ways our ways, and is not the divine folly wiser than the wis- dom of men? Was not the revealed truth an offence to the children of the age from the very beginning? . . . Luther's conscience rebelled against such sophistry. By protesting against these scandalous indulgences he revolted against the dogma sanctioning them, and against the spir- itual power whicli recommended them. For the author- ity of so evil-minded a church he substitutes the supreme authority of Scripture ; against the Catholic principle of meritorious works he opposes the doctrine of justification by faith. The principle proclaimed by Luther, and soon after by Zwingli, Calvin, and Farel, quickly penetrated and power- fully influenced all spheres of human action. As soon as it was acknowledged as a truth that salvation comes througli faith alone and not by works, the dispensations con- ferred l)y the Church lost their value. If grace is every- thing and merit nothing, then, it must be confessed, God cannot be thankful to us for renouncing family, society, and the joys and duties of life. Even Luther, who is by no means a lover of philosophy, but who has a very lively appreciation of nature, really advances the humanitarian and modern cause by repudiating, in principle at least, the dualism of the spiritual and the temporal, of priests and laymen, of heaven and earth. Melancthon, who is both a disciple of the Renaissance and a champion of the Refor- SCHOLASTICISM AND THEOSOPHY 277 mation, plainly recognizes the community of interests existing between the literary and the religious revival. The two currents ultimately meet in Ulrich Zwingli, ^ who was both an earnest Christian and a profound thinker, and whose theology is an energetic protest against the antithesis of a godless nature and a God antagonistic to nature. § 47. Scholasticism and Theosophy in the Protestant Coun- tries. Jacob Bohme Zwingli's progressive tendencies, however, made little headway, during the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries, against the doctrinary zeal of the theologians of the North. The authority of the Church and of the Pope was super- seded, among the Protestants, by the symbolism of the Reformation. It was impossible to pass immediately from the rule of authority to absolute freedom. The religious con- science, which had been violently agitated by a sudden re- volution, needed a capable guide in place of the one just lost. Theology, again, could not, in its struggle with Catholicism, do without an external, visiljle, and standard authority in matters of science and religion. Hence the Reformation produced no immediate change in philosophy. In spite of the efforts of Nicolas Tauiiellus,^ of Mompelgard (1547- 1606) and Pierre de la Ramee or Ramus,^ (1515-1572), 1 JVorks, ed. Scliuler and Schiilthess, 8 vols., Zurich, 1828-42 ; [E. Zeller, Das theologische System Zwinglis, Tubingen, 1853 ; Dilthey, A. f. G.d. Ph. VI.]. 2 PhilosophicB triumphus, Bale, 1573 ; Alpes ccvsre (against Csesalpi- nus), Frankfort, 1597; S?/nopsis Arist. Metaphjs., Hanover, 1596; De mundo, Amberg, 1603 ; Uranolor/ia, ib., 1603 ; De rerum ceternitafe, Marburg, 1G04. See F. X. Schmidt aus Schwarzenberg, Nicolas Taurelhis, der erste deutsche Philosoph, 2d ed., Erlangen, 1864. 3 Scholarum phys. lihri VIII. , Paris, 1565 ; Schol. metaphys. lihri XIV., Paris, 1566. See the monogi'aphs of Ch. Waddington (Paris, 1818) and Ch. Demaze (Paris, 1864). 278 PHILOSOPHY OF THE MIDDLE AGES who bitterly opposed the routine methods and the system of Aristotle, as then understood, the Universities continued to teach traditional roripateticism in the form adapted by Melancthon ^ to the needs of the Protestant dogma. The anti-scholastic opposition of Reuchlin, Agrippa, and Paracelsus was continued by the Saxon pastor Valentine WeiCxEL,2 (1533-1593), the two Van Helmonts,^ the Eng- lishman Robert Fludd,* (died 1637), who, like a true Protestant, bases his cosmology on Genesis, the learned CoMENius,^ (died 1671), whose trinity of matter, light, and spirit calls to mind the three stages of being in Plotinus and the three Peripatetic principles of matter, movement, and action ; finally, hy Jacob Bohivie the theosophist of Gorlitz (1575-1624). Bohme ^ was born of poor parents and apprenticed to a shoemaker at an early age. He received absolutely no instruction, and knew only the Bible and the writings of Weigel. But these sufficed to develop the latent capaci- 1 Ethicce doctrlnce elementa, 1538. [See Dilthey, A. f. G. d. Ph. F/.] ^ Vvoidi aeavTou, nosce te ipsum, 1618, etc. [See the works of J. Opel (Leipsic, 1861:), and A. Israel (Zschopau, 1889).] 3 J. Bapt. Helmont (died 1644). Opera, Amsterdam, 1648 ; [Germ, ed. 1683]. F. Merc. Helmont (died 1699). Sede?' olam s. ordo sceculo- rum, hoc est historica enarralio doctrlnce philosophicce per unum in quo sunt omnia, 1693. [See Rixner and Siber]. ^ Historia macro- et microcosmi mefaphi/sica, physica et technica, Op- penheim, 1617 ; Philos. Mosaica, Guda, 1638. ^ Synopsis physices ad lumen divlnum reformatce, Leipsic, 1638. [Cf. J. Kvacsala, IJeher J. A . Comenius Philosophie, Leipsic, 1886.] 6 [Coll. Works, ed. by Schiebler, 2d ed., 1861 ff. ; English transl. by William Law, 2 vols. 4°, 1864 ; French transl. of several writings, by L. C. St. Martin, Paris, 1800. Cf. v. Baader, Vorlesunf/en uber Bohme's Theologumena (Works, vol. III., pp. 357-436; also vol. XIII.) ; II. A. Fechner, Jacob Bohme, sein Lehen nnd seine Schriflen, Gorlitz, 1853 ; A. Peip, Jacob Bohme der deutsche Philosoph, Leipsic, 1860 ; also Car- riere (cited before) and Windelband, Geschichfe der neueren Philoso- phic, xo]. I., § 19.— Tr.] SCHOLASTICISM AND THEOSOPHY 279 ties of this child of the people. He divines that the visible things conceal a great i^iystery^ and lie experiences a deep desire to unravel it. An earnest Christian, he studies the Scriptiu'es, entreating God to enlighten him with his Spirit, and to reveal to him what no mortal man can discover tln'ough his own efforts ; and his prayers are answered. In three successive revelations, God shows him the inner cctitre of ■mysterious nature and helps him to penetrate the inner- most heart of ereatures at a single rapid glance. Yielding to the urgent wishes of some of his friends, he decides to record his vision in a treatise called Aurora^ which pro- cures him the title, the German ijhilosojjker. This book, like liis other works, ^ is written in German, the only language \vith which Bohme was familial-, and for that reason, if for no other, belongs to the modern world. It contains heresies of which the author has not the slightest notion, but which are vigorously condemned by the ecclesiastical authorities of Gorlitz and cause him to be placed under strict surveillance for the rest of his days. Indeed, from the Preface on, the sincerest orthodoxy is mingled with the most advanced conceptions of ancient and modern speculation. If you desire to be a philosopher and to fathom the nature of God and the nature of things, first pray to God for the Holy Ghost, wdio is in God and in nature. Aided by the Holy Spirit, you can penetrate even into the hodg of God, ivho is nature? and into the essence of the holy Trinity : for the Divine Spirit dwells in the whole of nature as the human spirit dwells in the body of man. Enlightened by this Spirit, what does Bohme find at the ^ Von den drei Principien des goLlliclien Wesiens ; Vom dreifachen Lehen des Menschen ; Von der Menschiverduufi Jesu Chrisli; Vom irdischen uiid hinimliscJien Aff/stei'ium; Von wahrer Busse ; Von der Wiedergehurt ; Von der Gnadenwald , Alysterium magnum, etc. (all in German). Editions of Amsterdam (1675, 1082, 1730) and Loipsic (1831 ff., 7 vols.). '^ Aurora, cli;ip. ii. 12; x. 56, -au.^ passim. 280 PHILOSOPHY OF THE MIDDLE AGES very source of things ? A constant duality, which he calls gentleness and sternness, sweetness and bitterness, good and evil. Everytliing that lives contains these contraries. Indifferent things, — things, that is, neither sweet nor bitter, neither warm nor cold, neither good nor bad, — are dead. Bohme sees this conflict, this struggle between two opposing principles, wliich become reconciled in death, in all beings, without exception, — in terrestrial beings, in angels, and in God,^ who constitutes the essence of all beings.^ God with- out the Son is a ivill that desires nothing because it is everything and has everything, — a will without a motive, a love without an object, a powerless power, an unsubstantial shadow, a blind essence without intelligence and without life, a centre without a circumference, a light without bright- ness, a sun without rays, a night without stars, a chaos with- out light, color, or form : a bottomless abyss, eternal death, nothingness. God the Father and the Son is the living God, the absolute or concrete spirit, the perfect being. The Son is the self-centred infinity, the heart of the Father ; the torch that illuminates the boundlessness of the Divine Being, as the sun sheds its light into the immeasurable space ; the eternal circle Avhicli God describes around himself ; the hody of God^ having the stars as its organs, and their orbits as its eternally-throbbing arteries ; the totality of the forms con- tained in heaven and earth; the mysterious nature that lives, and feels, and suffers, and dies, and is again revived in us. But the opposition which constitutes the essence of God and of all beings is not the primordial being : it comes from Unity ; the Son comes from the Father and is a sec- 1 Id., chap. ii. 40. 2 Aw'ora, Pref., 97; 105: Gott, in dem Alles ist und der selber Alles ist ; chap. i. 6 : Gott ist der Quellhrunn oder das Herz der Natur ; iii. 12 : Er ist von Nichts hergckommen, sondern ist selber Alles in EingJceit; iii. 11 : Der Vater ist Alles und alls Kraft hesteht in ihm : vii. 20 : Seine Kraft ist Alles und allenihalhen ; vii. 25: Des Vater s Kraft ist Alles in und uher alien Himmeln ; and passim. THE SCIENTIFIC MOVEMENT 281 ondary being. First nature, tlien mind; first will without an object or self-eonsciousness (der ungrundliclie Wille)^ then conscious will (dcr fasslicJie JVille^}. Although we may without difficulty extract the charac- teristic conceptions of concrete spiritualism from these metaphors, they assume a purely theological form in Bohme. This pioneer of German philosophy is a seer, a prophet who does not seem to understand himself, so im- bued is he with the traditional view of things. Thought has simply changed masters in the Protestant world ; it is what it was before, a servant, ancilla theologice. It owes its final deliverance to the discoveries of Columbus, Magellan, Copernicus, Kepler, and Galileo, who refute the accepted notions concerning the earth, the sun, and the heavens, and thereby destroy the prejudice Avliich makes the Scripture what it neither is nor claims to be ; an infallible text-book of physical science. § 48. The Scientific Movement 2 From the middle of the fifteenth century on, Western Europe experienced a series of surprises. Led by the Greek scholars who settled in Italy, she entered directly into the promised land, which the Arabians of Spain had in part revealed to her : I mean, antiquity with its literature, phi- losophy, and art. The historical horizon of our fathers, AA'hich originally bounded the Catholic era, grows larger and extends far beyond the beginnings of Christianity. The Catholic Church, outside of which notliing but dark- ness and barbarism seemed to prevail, Avas now regarded 1 Mysterium magnum, chap. vi. ; Von der Gnademcahl, chap. i. ; Au- rora, chaps, yiii -xi. 2 See the works of Montucla, Delambre, Chasles, Draper, etc., quoted on p. 159 ; Humboldt, Cosmos, vols. 1. and II. ; K. Fischer, Introduction to the History of ^^odern Philosophy, vol. I., 1 ; [Peschel, Geschichte dcs Zeitalters der Enideckungen. — Tk.]. 282 PHILOSOPHY OF THE MIDDLE xVGES simply as the daughter and heir of an okler, richer, more diversiiied civilization, of a civilization more in accord with the genius of the Western races. The Romance and Germanic nations of Europe feel closely akin to these Greeks and Romans v/hom the Church excluded from her pale, hut who were, in so many respects, superior to the Christians of the fifteenth century in all the spheres of human activity. The Catholic prejudice, according to which there can he neither salvation nor real civilization nor religion nor morality beyond tlie coniines of the Church, gradually disappears. Men cease to be ex- clusive Catholics and become nien^ humanists, and phil- anthropists in the broadest sense of the term. Not merely a few stray glimpses of the jjast, but the whole history of Aryan Europe with its countless political, literary, philo- logical, archceological, and geographical problems are un- rolled before the astonished gaze of our ancestors. Henceforth the historical sciences, which received but little attention during antiquity, and were almost unknown to the Middle Ages, constituted an important branch of study, and finally occupied the centre of interest. Scarcely had man discovered humanity ^vhen he was made acquainted with the real foim of his earthly habita- tion, of which he had hitherto seen but one of the facades. The Catholic universe consisted of the world known to the Romans, i. e., of the Mediterranean valley and the Southwestern part of Asia, with Northern Europe added. But now Columbus discovers the New World. Vasco De Gama sails around the Cape of Good Hope and finds the sea-route to India ; above all, Magellan succeeds in making the tour of the earth. These discoveries verify an hypo- thesis with which the ancients had long been familiar, — the hyj)othesis that our earth is a globe, isolated and sus- pended in space. What could be more natural than to infer that the stars too float in space without being attached THE SCIENTIFIC MOVEiVIENT 283 to anything, and that the spheres of Aristotle are mere illusions ? The earth is now conceived as a globe, but everybody still regards it as the immovable centre around which the heavenly spheres revolve. Tycho Beahe directs the firsO attack against the traditional and popular cosmography by j placing the sun in the centre of the planetary system ; but he still believes that this solar system revolves around the earth. Copernicus ^ takes the decisive step by placing the earth among the planets and the sun in the centre of the system. This theory, which had already been advanced by several of the ancients,^ and which Copernicus presents merely as an hypothesis, is confii'med by the splendid labors of Kepler,^ who discovers the form of the planetary orbits and the laws of their motion ; and of Galileo,^ who teaches that the earth has a double motion, and, with a telescope of his own construction, discovers the satellites of Jupiter and the law of their revolution. The heliocentric theory arouses great alarm in both Churches. Kepler is persecuted; Galileo is forced to retract. The stubborn conservatives maintain that the acceptance of the Copernican system would destroy the very foundations of Christianity. If the sun is the centre of the planetary orbits, if the earth moves, then, so they hold, Joshua did not perform his miracle, then the Bible is in error, and the Church fallible. If the earth is a planet, then it moves in heaven^ and is no longer the anti- thesis of heaven; then heaven and earth are no longer 1 De orhlum coelestium revolutionihus Vihri VI., Nuremberg, 1543. 2 §22. ^ Astronomia nova, Prague, 1609, etc.; Complete Works, ed. by Frisch, Frankfui't, 1858 ff. ^[Cf. Sigwart, Kleine Schnften, T. pp. 182- 220 ; Euckeii, Beitrdge zur Geschichte der neuern P}iilosoph.ie.~\ 4 Complete Works, ed. Alberti, Florence, 1843 ff. [Cf. Natori), Galilei ah Philosophy Philos. Monatshefie, 1882, pp. 193 ff.] 284 PHILOSOPHY OF THE MIDDLE AGES opposed, as tradition assumed, but form one indivisible uni- verse. Moreover, to affirm, in defiance of Aristotle, that the world is infinite, is to deny the existence of a heaven apart from the universe, of a supernatural order of things, of a God on high. That is the way the Church reasoned ; she identified faith with doctrines of faith, God with our ideas of God, and stamped the adherents of Copernicus as atheists. But in spite of the efforts of the Church, the new the- ories spread, the discoveries and inventions multiplied. First came the invention of printing, then the compass, and then the telescope. Before Newton completed the new cosmology by his theory of universal attraction, and transformed what, until then, had been a mere hypothesis into an axiom, the sciences had shaken off the yoke of Scholasticism, and slowly but surely advanced. Leonardo DA Vinci and his fellow-countryman Fracastok continue the labors of Archimedes and the scholars of Alexandria in physics, optics, and mechanics. The Frenchman Viete extends the limits of algebra and applies it to geometry ; and the Englishman Neper (Lord John Napier) invents the logarithms. In biology, the Belgian Vesale, by his De corporis humani fahrica (1553), la3^s the foundation of the science of human anatomy ; and the Englishman Har- vey, in a work published 1628,^ proves the theory of the circulation of the blood, previously advanced by the Span- iard Michel Servet,2 and the Italians Realdo Colombo ^ and Andreas Caesalpinus.* Of all the modern discoveries, the Copernican theory ^ De motu cordis et sanguinis, Frankfurt, 1(328, 2 Pulmonary circulation is tauglit in a passage of the Christianismi restiliitio, begun as early as 1546. 3 1494-1559 ; Vesale's successor at Padua (1544), and the author of De re anatomica (1558). ^ In his Qumstiones mediccc, 1598. THE SCIENTIFIC MOVEMENT 285 proved to be the most influential. The appearance of the Celestial Bevohotions is the most important event, the great- est epochs in the intellectual history of Europe. It marks the beginning of the modern world. By revealing to us the infinite^ which antiquity conceived as a mere negation, it did not, indeed, shake our faith in things invisible, — nay, it revived and strengthened the same, — but it seri- ously modified our ideas concerning their relation to the world. For transcendentalism, the ruling notion of the Middle Ages, it delinitively substituted the modern prin- ciple of divine immanenc//.^ This conception had as its necessary consequence the philosophical reform, which was inaugurated by the free- thinkers of the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries and continued, about the year 1600, by a number of bold innovators (Bruno in Italy, Bacon in England, Descartes in France). 1 Hegel (o. c), who recognizes in hiwicmency the ruling thought of the modern world, though dating it from the Lutheran Reformation, characterizes the transition from the Middle Ages to our own epoch as follows : " It seemed to mankind as though God had just created sun, moon, stars, plants, and animals ; as if the laws of nature had just been established. Now, for the first time, they became interested in all these things, recognizing their own reason in the universal rea- son. War was declared, in the name of the natural laws, against the gTeat superstition of the period, and against the prevailing notions regarding the formidable and remote powers, which, as was thought, could not be overcome except by magic. In the battle which ensued, Catholics and Protestants fought side by side." in MODERN PHILOSOPHY FIRST PERIOD THE AGE OF INDEPENDENT METAPHYSICS (FROM BRUNO TO LOCKE AND KANT) § 49. Giordano Bruno Giordano Bruno ^ was born at Nola, near Naples, in 1548. While still a young man, he entered tlie Domini- 1 [For references, see especially pp. 12-15. — Tr.] 2 The Italian writings edited by A. Wagner, 2 vols., Leipsic, 1829 ; [new edition by P. de Lagarde, 2 vols., Gottingen, 1888-89]; Latin writings ed. by A. F. Gfrorer, Stuttgart, 1834, incomplete ; [also by Fiorentino and others, 4 vols., Naples, 1880, 1886; Florence, 1889; W. Lntoslawslvi, Jordani Bruni NoJani 0pp. inedita manu ptropria scripta, ArcMv f. Geschichte der Philos., II., .326-371, 394-417 ; F. Tocco, Le opere inedite di G. B., Naples, 1891. — Tr.]. See Christian Barthol- mess, Jordano Bruno, 2 vols., Paris, 1846-47 ; [R. Mariano, G. B., la vita et ruomo, 'Roine, 1881]; H. Brunnhofer, G. B.'s Weltanschauung und VerUingmss, Leipsic, 1882 ; [.I. Frith, Life of G. B., the Nolan, revised by M. Carriere, London, 1887 ; Sigwart, Kleine ScJiriflen, L, pp. 49 ff. — Tr.]. M. Felice Tocco has published : Le opere laf.ine di G. B. esposte e confrontate con le italiane, Florence, 1889, and Le opere inedite di G. B. M. Tocco distinguishes three phases in the philo- sophical development of Bruno : a Neo-Platonic, an Eleatic and Hera- clitean, and a Democritean phase. With the head of the materialistic school, Bruno advances the notion of an infinite nnmber of worlds and the theory of atoms, which, from his animistic point of view, become monads. Bartholmess lays especial stress on the first of these phases ; Brunnhofer, on the second ; but neither interpretation ex- hausts Bruno's thought. GIORDANO BRUNO 287 can order, but the influence exercised upon him by the writings of Nicohis CuScanus, Raymond Lullus, Telesio, and his profound love of nature, soon turned him against the monastic life and Catholicism. He visited Geneva, where he met with bitter disappointments, Paris, London, and Germany, journeying from Wittenberg to Prague, from Helmstaedt to Frankfort. But Protestantism proved no more satisfactory to him than the religion of his fathers. Upon his return to Italy he was arrested at Venice by order of the Inquisition, imprisoned for two years, and then burnt at the stake in Rome (1600). His adventurous life did not hinder him from writing numerous treatises, the most remarkable of which are the following : Delict causa^ priti- cipio ed uno ^ (Venice, 1584) ; Del injlnito itniverso e dei mondi ^ (id.^ 1584) ; De tri'plici miiiimo et mensnra (Frank- fort, 1591) ; De 7nonade, numero et figura (id., 1591) ; De immenso et innumerabilihus s. de itniverso et mundis ^ (id. 1591). Bruno was the first metaphysician of the sixteenth cen- tury who unreservedly accepted the heliocentric system. Aristotle's spheres and divisions of the world he regarded as purely imaginary. Space, he held, has no such limits, no insurmountable barriers separating om^ world from an extra-numdane region reserved for pure spirits, angels, and the supreme Being. Heaven is the infinite universe.* The fixed stars are so many suns, surrounded l\y planets, which, in turn, are accompanied by satellites. The earth is a mere planet, and does not occupy a central and privileged place in the heavens. The same may be said of our sun, for the universe is a sj^-stem of solar systems. 1 [German transl. hy A. Lasson in Kirchniann's PhilosnpJiische Bib UotheJc, 2d eel. 1889. — Tr.] 2 [German transl. by L. Knhlenbeck, Berlin, 1893. — Tr.] 3 [7r7., 1890. — Tr./ * Df immenso et iri))vmerahil/hus, p. 1.50. 288 MODERN rHILOSOPHY If the universe is infinite, we must necessarily reason as follows : There cannot be two infinities ; now the exist- ence of the world cannot he denied ; hence God and the universe are but one and tlie same being. In order to escape the charge of atheism, Bruno distinguishes between the universe and the world : flod, the infinite Being, or the Universe^ is the principle or tlie eternal cause of the ■world : natiira naturans ; the v/orld is the totality of his effects or phenomena: natiira naturcita. It would, he thinks, be atheism to identify God witli the ivorld, for the world is merely the sum of individual beings, and a sum is not a being, but a mere phrase. But to identify God with the universe is not to deny him ; on the contrary, it is to magnify him; it is to extend the idea of the supreme Being far beyond the limits assigned to him by those who conceive him as a being hy tJie sidcoi other beings, i. e., as a finite being. Hence Bruno loved to call himself Philothcos^^ in order to distinguish clearly between his conception and atheism. This proved to be a useless precaution, and did not succeed in misleading his judges. As a matter of fact, the God of Bruno is neither the creator nor even the first mover, but the soul of the world ; he is not the transcendent and temporary cause, but, as Spinoza would say, the immanent cause, i. e., the inner and permanent cause of things ; he is both the material and formal principle which produces, organizes, and governs them, from within outwardly : in a word, their eternal sub- stance. The beings Avhich Bruno distinguishes by the words " universe " and " world," natura naturans and natura naturata^ really constitute but one and the same thing, considered sometimes from the realistic standpoint (in the mediaeval sense), sometimes from the nominalistic standpoint.2 The universe, which contains and produces ^ PJiUotlieus Jordanus Brunus Nolanus dc compendiosa arcMlectura et comphmento nrth Lull i I, Paris, 1582. ^ Delia causa, 72 ff. GIORDANO BllUNO^ 289 all tilings, lias neither beginning nor end ; the world (that is, the beings which it contains and produces) has a begin- ning and an end. The conception of nature and of neces- sary production takes the place of the notion of a creator and free creation. Freedom and necessity are synonymous ; being, power, and will constitute in God but one and the same indivisible act.^ The creation of the world does not in any way modify the God-universe, the eternally-identical, immutable, in- commensurable, and incomparable Being. By luifolding himself, the infinite Being produces a countless number of genera, species, and individuals, and an infinite variety of cosmical laws and relations (which constitute the life of the universe and the phenomenal world), without himself becoming a genus, species, individual, or substance, or subjecting himself to any law, or entering into any rela- tions. He is an absolute and indivisible unity, having notliing in common with numerical unity.; he is in all things, and all things are in liim. In him every existing thing lives, moves, and has its being. He is present in the blade of grass, in the grain of sand, in the atom that floats in the sunbeam, as well as in the boundless All, — that is, he is omnipresent, because he is indivisible. The substantial and natural omnipresence of the infinite Being both explains and destroys the dogma of his supernatural presence in the consecrated host, which the ex-Dominican regards as the corner-stone of Christianity. Because of this real all-presence of the infinite One, everything in nature is alive ; nothing can be destroyed ; death itself is but a transformation of life. The merit of the Stoics con- sists in their having recognized the world as a living being ; that of the Pythagoreans, in having recognized the mathematical necessity and immutability of the laws gov- erning eternal creation.^ ^ De immenso et innumerabilibus, T., 11. ^ /j,^ VIII., 10. 19 290 MODERN PHILOSOPHY Bruno sometimes calls the Infinite, the Universe, or God, matter. Matter is not the fxr] 6v of Greek idealism and the Schoolmen. It is inextended, i. e., immaterial in its essence, and does not receive its being from a positive principle outside of itself (the form) ; it is, on the contrary, the real source of all forms ; it contains them all in germ, and produces them in succession. What was first a seed becomes a stalk, then an ear of corn, then bread, then chyle, then blood, then animal semen, then an embryo, then a man, then a corpse, and then returns to earth or stone or some other material, only to pass through the same stages again. Thus we have here something that is changed into all things, and yet remains substantially the same. Hence, matter alone seems to be stable and eternal, and deserves to be called a principle. Being absolute, it includes all forms and all dimensions, and evolves out of itself the infinite variety of forms in which it appears. When we say a thing dies, we mean that a new thing has been produced ; the dissolution of a combination means the formation of a new one. The human soul is the highest evolution of cosmical life. It springs from the substance of all things through the action of the same force that produces an ear from a grain of wheat. All beings whatsoever are both body and soul : all are living monads., reproducing, in a particular form, the Monad of monads, or the God-universe. Corporeality is the effect of an outward movement or the expansive force of the monad; in thought the movement of the monad returns upon itself. This double movement of expansion and concentration constitutes the life of the monad. The latter lasts as long as the backward and for- ward motion producing it, and dies as soon as this ceases ; but it disappears only to arise again, in a new form, soon after. The evolution of the living being may be described as the expansion of a vital centre ; life, as the duration of TOMMASO CAMPANELLA 291 the sphere ; death, as the contraction of the sphere and its return to the vital centre whence it sj^rang.^ All these conceptions, especially the evolutionism of Bruno, we shall meet again in the systems of Leibniz, Bonnet, Diderot, and Hegel, which his philosophy contains in germ and in the undifferentiated state, as it were. As the synthesis of monism and atomism, idealism and ma- terialism, speculation and observation, it is the common source of modern ontological doctrines. § 50. Tommaso Campanella Another Southern Italian and Dominican, Tommaso Ca]VIPANELLA,2 anticipated the English and German essays concerning human understanding, i. e., modern criticism. This doughty champion of philosophical reform and Italian liberty was born near Stilo in Calabria, 1568, and died at Paris, 1639, after spending twenty-seven years in a Nea- politan dungeon on the charge of having conspired against the Spanish rule. Campanella is a disciple of the Greek sceptics. This school taught him that metaphysics is built on sand unless it rests on a theory of knowledge. His pliilosophy conse- quently first discusses the formal question.^ Our knowledge springs from two sources : sensible ex- perience and reasoning ; it is empirical or speculative. ^ De triplici 7ni?iimo, pp. 10-17. 2 Opere cli Tommaso Campanella ed. by A. d'Ancona, Turin, 1854 {Campanellce Philosophia sensibus demonstrata, Naples, 1590; Philos. rationalis et realis partes V., Paris, 1638 ; Universalis pMlosophice sive metapJiysicarum rerum Jtixta projyria dogmata partes III., id., 1638 ; Atheismits triumphatus, Rome, 1631 ; De gentilismo non retinendo, Paris, 1836, etc.) ; [Cf. Baldachini, Vita e flosofa di T. C, Naples, 1840-43; Sigwart, Kleine Schriften, I., pp. 125 ff. — Tr.] ^ For Campanella's theory of knowledge, see especially the Intro- duclion to his Universal Philosophy or Metaphysics. 292 MODERN PHILOSOPHY Is the knowledge acquired by sensation certain? Most of the ancients are of the opinion that the testimony of the senses must be ignored, and the sceptics sum up their doubts in the following argument : The object perceived by the senses is nothing but a modification of the subject, and the facts which, the senses tell us, are taking place outside of us, are in reality merely taking place in us. The senses are my senses ; they are a part of myself ; sen- sation is a fact produced in me, a fact which I explain by an external cause ; whereas the thinking subject might be its determining but unconscious cause as easily as any object. In that event, how can we reach a certain knowl- edge of the existence and nature of external things ? If the object which I perceive is merely my sensation, how can I prove that it exists outside of me ? By the inner sense, Campanella answers. Sense-perception must derive the character of certitude, which it does not possess in itself, from reason ; reason transforms it into knowledge. Though the metaphysician may doubt the veracity of the senses, he cannot suspect the inner sense. Now, the latter reveals to me my existence immediately, and in such a way as to exclude even the shadow of a doubt ; it reveals me to myself as a being that exists, and acts, and knows, and wills ; as a being, furthermore, that is far from doing and knowing everything. In other words, the inner sense reveals to me both my existence and its limitations. Hence I necessarily conclude that there is a being that limits me, an objective world different from myself, or a non-ego ; and thus I demonstrate by the a posteriori method a truth that is instinctive, or a priori, or prior to all reflection: the existence of the non-ego is the cause of the sensible per- ception in me.i Does this argument refute scepticism ? To tell the truth, it only half refutes it, and our philosopher has no * Universalis philos. sive metapTiys.^ Part I., 1, c. 3. TOMMASO CAMPANELLA 293 thought of clainnng the victory. Indeed, it does not neces- sarily follow that because the senses are veridical in show- ing us objects, they show us the latter as they are. The agreement which, dogmatism assumes, exists between our mode of conceiving things and their mode of being, is, according to Campanella, a consequence of the analogy of beings, and this, in turn, is the consequence of an indemon- strable truth : their unitary origin. Besides, he Avill not grant that the human mind has an absolute knowledge of things. Our knowledge may be correct without ever being complete. Compared with God's knowledge, our knowledge is insignificant and as nothing. We should know things as they are, if knowledge were a pure act (if to perceive were to create). In order to know the things in them- selves, or absolutely, we should have to be the absolute as such, i. e., the Creator liimself. But though absolute knowledge is an ideal which man cannot realize, — an evi- dent proof that this world is not liis real home, — the thinker ought to engage in metaphysical research. Considering its subject-matter, universal philosophy or metaphysics is the science of the principles or first condi- tions of existence (principia, proprincipia^ primalitates essendi). Considering its sources, means, and methods, it is the science of reason, and more certain and authoritative than experimental science. To exist means to proceed from a principle and to re- turn to it.^ What is the principle, or rather, what are these principles ? for an abstract unity is barren. In other words : What is essential to a being's existence ? An- swer : (1) That this being he ahle to exist. (2) That there be in nature an Idea of which this being is the realization (for without knowledge nature would never produce any- thing). (3) That there be a tendency? or desire for realiz- ^ Univ. phil. sive inetaphys., P. I., 2, c. 1. 2 By thus categorically affirming the will as the prmcipium essendi, 294 MODERN PHILOSOPHY ingit. Power {iwsse^ iwtcstas^ 2^'^^^'^^^^^^ esscndi\ knowledge (cofjnoscere, sapicntia)^ and will (vclle^ amor essendi), — such are the principles of relative being. The sum of these principles, or rather, the supreme unity which contains them, is God. God is absolute power, absolute knowl- edge, and absolute will or love. The created beings, too, have power, perception, and will, corresponding to their propinquity to the source of things. The universe is a hierarchy comprising the mental, angelic, or metaphysical world (angels, dominations, Avorld-soul, immortal souls), the eternal or mathematical world, and the temporal or coiporeal world. All these worlds, even the corjjoreal world itself, participate in the absolute, and reproduce its three essential elements : power, knowledge, and will. So true is this that even inert nature is not dead ; nay, feel- ing, intelligence, and will exist, in different degrees, in all beings, not even excepting inorganic matter.^ Every being proceeds from the absolute Being, and strives to return thither as to its principle. In this sense all finite beings whatsoever love God, all are religious, all strive to live the infinite life of the Creator, all have a horror of non-being, and in so far as all bear within them- selves non-being as well as being, all love God more than themselves. Religion is a universal phenomenon and has its source in the dependence of all things on the absolute Being. Religious science or theology is so much higher than philosophy, as God is greater than man.'^ In spite of these concessions to Catholicism, in spite of his Atheismus triumphatus^ and his di-eam of a universal monarchy for the Holy Father, Camjjanella's attempted Campanella differs both from the materiaUsts and the pure idealists. No one before Leibniz more clearly conceived the fundamental con- ception of concrete spiritualism. 1 Umv.p}iiL,V. I., 2, c. 5ff. 2 M.IIL, 16, 1-7. FRANCIS BACON 295 reforms were suspected by the Church, and miscarried. Philosopliy coukl not hope to make any advance in Italy; henceforth she takes up her al)ode in countries enlightened or emancipated by the religious reformation : in England and on both banks of the Rhine.^ § 51. Francis Bacon In England the philosophical reform receives the impress of the Anglo-Saxon character, and takes quite a different turn from the Italian movement. The sober and positive English mind distrusts the tj'aditions of Scholasticism as well as the hasty deductions of independent metaphysics. It prefers the sIoav and gradual ascent along the path of experience to Italian speculation, which quickly reaches the summit, and then, unable to maintain itself, becomes discouraged and falls l)ack into scepticism. It is impressed with the fact that the School and its methods had no share in the recent progress of the sciences ; that these intellec- tual conquests were made outside of the School, nay, in spite of it. The sciences owe their success neither to Aristotle nor to any other traditional authority, but to the direct contemplation of nature and the immediate influence of common-sense and reality. True, the bold investiga- tors of science reasoned no less skilfully than the logi- cians of the School, but their reasonings were based on tlie 1 The most distinguished among the Italian philosophers of the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries is Giovanni Battista Vico, who died in 1744. He is noted for his Scienza nuova (Naples, 1725), one of the first attempts at a philosophy of history. The attempt has been made by able modern thinkers like Gallupi, Rosmini, Gioberti, Mamiani, Ferrari, etc. (§ 71), to restore to Italy the philosophical prestige enjoyed by that country during the period of the Renaissance (see Raphael Mariano, La philosophie contemporaine en Italie, Paris, 1868). [On Vico see Professor Flint's book in Blackioood's Phil. Classics. — Tr.] 296 MODERN PHILOSOPHY observation of facts. Conversely, when they started from an a priori conception, or hypothesis, they verified it by experience, as Columbus did, and refused to recognize its truth until it had received this indispensable sanction. Thus we have, on the one hand, an utterly powerless and barren official philosophy; on the other, a surprising ad- vance in the positive sciences. The conclusion which forced itself upon English common-sense was the necessity of abandoning a priori speculation and the abused syllo- gism in favor of observation and induction. This conviction, which had been expressed by Roger Bacon as early as the thirteenth century, is proclaimed in the writings of his namesake Feancis Bacon, Baron of Verulam, Lord Chancellor of England (1561-1626): De dignitate ct augmeiitis scientiarum ;^ Novum organum scien- tiarum^ etc.^ 1 Appeared in English, 1605. 2 First pnblished under the title Cogitata et visa in 1612. 8 Complete TForZ.'s, [ed. William Rawley, Amsterdam, 1663] ; ed. Montague, London, 1825-34; H. G. Bohn> London, 1846; ed. Ellis, Spedding, and Heath, London, 1857-59, completed by J. Spedding ; The Letters and Life of Francis Bacon, including all his occasional woi'ks, newly collected, revised, and set out in chronological order, with a commentary hiogrophical and historical, London, 1862-72 ; [also a briefer Account of the Life and Times of Francis Bacon, by J. Spedding, 2 vols., London, 1879] ; Bacon's works, tr. into French by Lasalle, 15 vols., 8vo, Paris, 1800-1803; and by Riaux (CEuvres philosophiques de F. Bacon, in the Charpentier collection, 2 vols., 12mo, 1842). See Ch. de Remusat, Bacon, sa vie, son temps, sa philosophie et son influence jusqu^a nos jours, 2d ed,, Paris, 1858 ; Kuno Fischer, Francis Bacon und seine Nachfolger. Entiviclcelungsgeschichte der Erfahrungsphiloso- phie, Leipsic, 1856 ; 2d ed., completely revised, 1875 ; [Engl, trans, by J. Oxenford, London, 1857]; Chaignet et Sedail, De Vinfluence des fravaux de Bacon et de Descartes sur la marche de Vesprit humain, Bor- deaux, 1865 ; [Th. Fowler, Bacon (English Pliilosophers^ Series'), Lon- don, 1881 ; J. Nichol, Bacon (Blackwood's Philosophical Classics), 2 vols., Edinburgh, 1888-89 ; Heussler, Francis Baco und seine geschichtliche Stellung, Breslau, 1889. Concerning Bacon's predeces- FRANCIS BACON 297 The problem is, to begin tlie whole labor of the mind again, to raise science upon an absolutely new basis {instau- ratio magna). If we would ascertain the hidden nature of things, we must not look for it in books, in the authori- ties of the School, in preconceived notions and a iiriori speculations. Above all, Ave must give up imitating the ancients, whose influence has retarded the progress of knowledge. With the exception of Democritus and a few positivists, the Greek philosophers observed but little and superficially. Scholasticism followed in the footsteps of antiquity. It seems as though the Schoolmen had lost their sense of the real. Our knowledge is full of preju- dices. We have our whims, our j^i^^fei'ences, our idols {idola trihits^ fori^ species, theatri)^ and we project them into nature. Because the circle is a regular line and affords us pleasure, we infer that the planetary orbits are perfect circles. We do not observe at all, or we observe but poorly. We infer that because persons have escaped a great misfortune five times, some supernatural agencies have been at work ; and we fail to take account of the equally numerous cases when they did not escape. One may truly say with the philosopher who was shown, in a temple, the votive tablets suspended by such as had escaped the peril of shipwreck : " But where are the por- traits of those who have perished in spite of their vows?" We assume final causes, and apply them to science, thereby carrying into nature what exists only in our imagination. Instead of understanding things, we dispute about tvords, which each man interprets to suit himself. We continu- ally confuse the objects of science with those of religion, — a procedure which results in a superstitious philosophy and a heretical theology, " Natural philosophy is not yet sors, Digby and Temple, see /. Freudenthal, Beitrage zur Ge.<^chichte (ler engl. Philos., A. f. d. G. d. Ph., IV., pp. 450-477, 578-603, V., pp. 1-11. _Tr.]. 298 MODERN PHILOSOPHY to be found unadulterated, but is impure and corrupted, — by logic in the school of Aristotle ; by natural theology in that of Plato ; by mathematics in the second school of Plato (that of Proclus and others), which ought rather to terminate natural philosophy than to generate or create it." Philosophy's only hope in this chaos of ojjinions and a iiriori systems is to break entirely with Greek and scholastic traditions, and to accept the inductive method. What traditional philosophy calls induction proceeds by simple enumeration, leads to uncertain conclusions, and is exposed to danger from one contradictory instance, decid- ing generally from too small a number of facts. Genuine induction, the method of modern science, does not hurry on rapidly from a few isolated and uncertain phenomena to the most general axioms, l:)ut patiently and carefully studies the facts, and ascends to the laws continually and gradually. In forming our general law " we must examine and try whether it be only fitted and calculated for the particular instances from which it is deduced or whether it be more extensive and general. If the latter, we must observe whether it confirm its own extent and generality by giving surety, as it were, in pointing out new particu- lars, so that we may neither stop at actual discoveries, nor with careless grasp catch at shadows and abstract forms." ^ It is an exaggeration of Bacon's merit to regard him as the creator of tlie experimental method and of modern science.^ On the contrary. Bacon was the product of the 1 Novum organum, B. I., §§ 1, 2, 3, 14, 15, 19, 26, 31, 38-68, 71, 77, 79, 82, 89, 96, 100 ff. [Translations taken from Devey's ed. of Bacon's works in Bohn's Library. — Tr.] 2 His scientific merit has given rise to an interesting controversy. See Ad. Lasson, Ueher Bacoji's ivissenschaftliche Principien, Berlin, 1860 ; Justus v. Liebig, Ueber F. Bacon von Verulam und die Metlwde der Naturforschung, Munich, 1863 ; tr. into French by Tchihatchef, Paris, 1866. Cf. the jeplies of Alb. Desjardins, De Jure apud Fr. FRANCIS BACON 299 scientific revival of the sixteentli century, and his niani festo is but the conclusion, or as we might say the moral, which English common-sense draws from the scientific movement. But though he cannot be said to have origi- nated the experimental method, we must at least concede to him the honor of having raised it from the low condi- tion to wliich scholastic prejudice had consigned it, and of having insured it a legal existence, so to say, by the most eloquent plea ever made in its favor. It is no small matter to speak out what many think and no one dares to confess even to himself. Nay, more. Though experimental science and its methods originated long before the time of tlie great chancellor. Bacon is none the less the founder of experimental philos- ophy^ the father of modern positivistic philosophy, in so far as he was the fii'st to affirm, in clear and eloquent words, that true philosophy and science have common in- terests, and that a sepai'ate metaphysics is futile. An out- spoken adversary of the metaphysical spirit, he expressly begs his readers " not to suppose that we are ambitious of founding any philosophical sect, like the ancient Greeks or some moderns ; for neither is this our intention, no7^ do wc think that ijecidiar abstract opinions on nature and the prin- ciples of things are of much importance to men's fortunes^ ^ Hence he not only opposes Aristotle, but " every abstract opinion on nature," i. e., all meta^^hysics not based on science. He distinguishes, moreover, between primary philosophy and metaphysics. Primary philosophy treats of the notions and general propositions common to the special sciences, viz. (according to Bacon's strange division, "that is derived Baconem, Paris, 1862 ; of Sigwart, Ein PJiilo.fopJi unci ein Naturforsclier iiher Bacon {Preussisclie Jahrhiicher, vol. XII., August, 1863 ; vol. XIII., January, 1864). * Novum organum, I., 116. 300 MODERN PHILOSOPHY from the three different faculties of the soul," memory, imagination, and reason) : liistory^ which includes civil his- tory and natural history; poesy; and philoso^yhy^ which he divides into 7iatural theology^ natural philosoj^hy^ and human philosophy. Metaphysics is the speculative part of natural philosophy ; it deals with forms (in tlie scholastic sense) and final causes, whereas the ^;racf^c«7 part of natural philosophy, or physics proper, deals only with efficient causes and substances. But Bacon does not value meta- physics very highly, and it sounds like irony when, after having called final causes barren virgins, he assigns them to this science. As regards natural theology, its sole aim is *' the confutation of atheism." Dogmas are objects of faith, and not of knowledge.^ Tliis method of distinguishing between science and theology, philosophy and faith, reason and revelation, is diametrically opposed to the waj^s of the School. The old realistic Scholasticism identified philosophy with theology. Bacon, like the nominalists, cannot keep them far enough apart. He justifies himself for being a naturalist in science and a supernaturalist in theology on the ground of this absolute distinction, and a number of English thinkers follow liis example. But the distance is not great between the exclusion of the invisible from the domain of science and its complete denial. Thomas Hobbes, a friend of Bacon, teaches a form of materialism which his political conservatism scarcely succeeds in disguising. § 52. Thomas Hobbes Thomas Hobbes (1588-1679), the son of a clergyman, born at Malmesbury, in Wiltshire, was the tutor of Lord Cavendish, and, owing to the latter's influence, a loyal friend of the Stuarts. Returning to his country after an absence of thirteen years in France, he devoted himself 1 De difjnitate et augm. sc, III. THOMAS HOBBES 80l exclusively to literary labors.^ Hobbes's fame as a political writer and moralist has somewhat obscured his merit as an ontologist and psychologist. And unjustly so ; for he is the forerunner of materialism, criticism, and modern positivism. Philosophy is defined by Hobbes as the reasoned knowl- edge of effects from causes, and causes from effects.^ To philosophize means to think correctly; now, to think is " to compound and resolve conceptions," i. e., to add or subtract, to compute, or to reckon ; hence, to tliink correctly means to combine what ought to be combined, and to sep- arate what ought to be separated. Hence it follows that philosoj)hy can have no other object than comiJOsaUe and decomposable things, or bodies.^ Pure spirits, angels, ^ Elementci pkilosopMca de ewe, 1642 and 1647 ; Human Nature, or the Fundamental Elements of Policy, London, 1650 ; Leviathan sive de materia, forma et potestate civitatis ecclesiasticce et civilis, 1651; 1670 (in Latin) ; De corpore, 1655 ; De homine, 1658. [First Latin edition of his collected works (published by himself), Amsterdam, 1668 ; first English edition of his moral and political works, London, 1750]; (Euvres philosophiques et politiques de Th. Hobbes, etc., transl. into French by one of his friends, 2 vols., 8vo, Neuchatel, 1787 ; His com- plete works (English and Latin), collected and edited by J. Moles- worth, 16 vols., 8vo, London, 1839-45 ; [The Elements of Laiv, Natural and Political, ed., with preface and critical notes, by F. Tonnies. To which are subjoined selected extracts from unprinted MSS. of Th. H., London, 1888 ; Behemoth, or the Long Parliament, ed. for the first time from the original MSS. by F. Tonnies, London, 1889 ; Siebzehn Brief e des Th. Hobbes, etc., ed. and explained by F. Tonnies, A. f. G. d. Ph., III., pp. 58-78, 192-232 ; Hobbes's Leviathan in Morley's Universal Library, London. On Hobbes see : F. Tbnnies's four articles in Vier- teljahresschrift f. wiss. Ph., 1879-1881 ; same author, Leibniz und H., Philos. Monatshefte, 1887, pp. 557-573 ; and Th. H., Deutsche Rund- schau, 1889, 7 ; G. C. Robertson, Hobbes (Philosophical Classics), Edin- burgh and London, 1886 ; G. Lyon, La philosophic de Hobbes, Paris, 1893. — Tr.]. 2 De corpore, p. 2. * Id., p. 6 : Subjectum philosophies sive materia circa quam versatur est corpus. 302 MODERN PHILOSOPHY ghosts, and God, cannot be thought. Tliey are objects of faith, and belong to theology, — not objects of science falling within the scope of philosophy. Corresponding to the division of bodies into natural and artificial, moral and social bodies, we have : philosophic^ naturalis (logic, on- tology, mathematics, physics) and philosophia civilis (morals and politics). Physics and moral philosophy are both empirical sciences, having bodies as their objects, and outer and inner sense as their respective organs. Outside of the science of observation, there is no real knowledge.^ From these premises follows a wholly materialistic theory of perception. Inner perception, the primary condition and basis of intellectual life, is merely our feeling of brain action. To think, therefore, is to feel. Knowledge con- sists in the addition of sensations. Sensation, again, is but a modification, a movement taking place in the sensible body. Memory, the indispensable auxiliary of thought, is simply the duration of sensation : to remember is to feel what one has felt. Sensations cannot be explained, in the manner suggested by some of the ancients, as effluences emanating from bodies, and similar to them. These simu- lacra reritm^ or, in the terminology of the Schoolmen, sensible and intelligihle species^ are, according to Hobbes, as bad as the occult qualities and other hypotheses of the Middle Ages. Instead, we must say : The simple motion which the objects produce in surrounding matter is com- municated to the brain by the mediation of the nerves. Hobbes here states a truth already known to Democri- tus, Protagoras, and Aristippus : the highly important truth of the wholly subjective character of perception. What we perceive — light, for example — is never an external object, but a motion, a modification taking place in the 1 De corpore. THOMAS HOBBES 303 cerebral substance.^ We need no further proof of tliis than the fact that light is perceived when the eye receives a more or less powerful blow ; the sensation is merely the effect of the excitement produced in the optic nerve. And what holds for light in general may be said of each par- ticular color, wliich is but a modification of light. The senses therefore deceive us in so far as they make us be- lieve that sound, light, and colors exist outside of us. The objectivity of the phenomenon is an illusion. The qualities of tilings are accidents of our own being, and there is noth- ing objective except the motion of bodies, which arouses these accidents in us. Hobbes reasons as Berkeley after- wards reasoned ; but the latter carries out liis argument to the very end; proceeding from sensualistic premises, he finally denies the existence of bodies, and culminates in subjective idealism. Hobbes only goes half way : the reality of matter is, in his opinion, an unimpeachable dogma.^ Soul or spirit he defines sometimes as brain action, some- times as nervous substance. By spirit, he says, I under- stand a physical body refined enough to escape the obser- vation of the senses. An incorporeal spirit does not exist.^ The Bible itself make no mention of such a being. Ani- mals and man differ in degree only ; both being corporeal beings. We possess no real advantage over brutes except speech. We are no more endowed with free-will than the lower beings. Like them, we are governed by irresistible appetites. Reason without passion, moral principles with- out a material attraction, exert no influence on the human will ; it is impelled by the expectations of the imagination, the passions, and the emotions: love, hatred, fear, and hope. "A voluntary action is that which proceedeth from 1 Human Nature, p. 6 : The image or colour is hut an apparition unto us of the motion, agitation, or alteration which the object icorks in the brain or spirits, or some internal substance of the head. 2 Id., pp. 9 f. ^ Id., pp. 71 f . 304 MODERN PHILOSOPHY the will ; " but the volition itself is not voluntary ; it is not our deed ; Ave are not the masters of it. Every act has its sufficient reason. According to the indeterminists, a free or voluntary act is one which, though there be a suf- ficient reason for its performance, is not necessary. The absurdity of this definition is obvious. If an occurrence or an act does not happen, it is because there is no sufficient reason for its happening. Sufficient reason is synonymous with necessity. Man, like all creatures, is subject to the law of necessity, to fate, or, if we choose, to the will of God. Good and evil are relative ideas. The former is identical with the agreeable ; the latter, with the disagree- able. Interest is the supreme judge in morals as in every- thing else. Absolute good, absolute evil, absolute justice, absolute morality, are so many chimeras, gratuitous inven- tions of the theological mind and metaphysics.^ Hobbes's system of politics is consistent with these onto- logical premises. Liberty he considers as impossible in politics as in metaphysics and ethics. In the State as well as in nature might makes right. The natural state of man consists in the helium omnium contra omnes. The State is the indispensable means of putting an end to this conflict. It protects the life and property of individuals at the cost of a passive and absolute obedience on their part. What it commands is good; what it prohibits is bad. Its will is the supreme law.^ We shall not dwell on this absolutistic theory, the logi- cal consequence of materialism. Let us note in what two important respects Thomas Hobbes differs from Bacon. First, Hobbes teaches a system of metaphysics, — the materialistic metaphysics ; secondly, his definition of phi- losophy places a higher value on the syllogism than the author of the Novum organum sets upon it. The latter ^ Treat, of Liberty and Necessity/, London, 1656. 2 De cive, 6, 19 ; 12, 8 ; Leviathan, c. 17. DESCAETES 305 had, in proclaiming induction as the universal method, overlooked (1) the part deduction plays in mathematics, and (2) the part played by the mathematical element and a jpriori speculation in the discoveries of the fifteenth century. Hence Hobbes occupies a position between pure empiricism and Cartesian rationalism. § 53. Descartes Ren^ des Caetes,^ born 1596 at La Haye in Touraine, and educated by the Jesuits of La Fleche, spent the greater part of his life abroad. In Germany he fought as a lieu- tenant in the Imperial army ; in Holland he published his 1 IVorks [Latin ed., Amsterdam, 1650 if ; French, Paris, 1701] ; French ed. by Victor Cousin, 11 vols., Paris, 1824-26; Philosophical Works of Descartes, by Gamier, 4 vols., Paris, 1835, and by Jules Simon in the Bibliotheque Charpentier, 1 vol. 12mo, 1842 ; Moral and Philosophical Works of Descartes, by Amadee Prevost, Paris, 1855 ; Unpublished Works of Descartes, by Foucher de Careil, 18G0 ; \_Un- puhlished Letters, by E. de Bude, Paris, 1868 ; by P. Tannery, A. f G. P/i., vols. lY. and v.; "Engl, transl. of The Method, Meditations, and Selections from the Principles, by J. Veitch, lOth ed., Edinl)urgh and London, 1890; of the Meditations, by Lowndes, London, 1878 ; of Extracts from his Writings, by H. A. P. Torrey {Series of Modern Phi- losophers), jSTew York, 1892. — Tr.]. A. Baillet, La vie de Mr. des Cartes, Paris, 1691 ; Francisque Bouillier, Histoire de la philosophic rartesienne, Paris, 1854, 3d ed., 1868 [a history of Cartesianism] ; [C. Schaarschmidt, Descartes und Spinoza, Bonn, 1850] ; J. Millet, Histoir de Descartes avant 1637 suivie de Panalyse du Discours de la methode et des Essais de pMlosophie, Paris, 1867 ; Bertrand de Saint- Germain, Descartes considere comme physiologiste et comme medecin, Paris, 1870 ; [J. P. Mahaffy, Descartes {Blackicood's Philosophical Classics), Edinburgh and Philadelphia, 1881. See also : ]\I. Heinze, Die Sittenlehre des Descartes, Leipsic, 1872 ; Grimm, Descartes'' Lehre von den angehorenen Ideen, Jena, 1873; G. Glogau, Darlegung u. Kritik des Grundgedankens der Cartesian. Metaphysik, Ztschr. f. Ph., vol. 73, 1878; A. Koch, Die Psycholofpie Descartes', Munich, 1881; Xatorp, Descartes' Erkenntmsstlieorie, Marburg, 1882; K. Twardowski, Idee und Perception hei Descartes, Vienna, 1892. — Tr.]. 20 306 MODERN PHILOSOPHY PhilosoiiJiical Essays^ comprising the Discours de la methode (1637), the Meditatioiies de ^;?n*'Wirt 2j]iilosoj)lii(i (1641), the Friyicipia philosopliiae (1644). His admirer Queen Christina invited him to Sweden, where he died 1650, the same year in which his Traite des ixissioiis de Vame appeared at Amster- dam. Besides the above, we must mention the following characteristic works : Le monde ou traite de la lumiere^ and the Traite de Vhomme ou de la formation du foetus^ which were published after the death of the author. In order to understand Descartes the philosopher, we must remember that he wr.s an emulator of Gassendi, Galileo, Pascal, and Newton, the successor of Viete, and one of the founders of analytical geometry. Descartes was a mathematician above everything else ; a geometrician with a taste for metaphysics rather than a philosopher with a leaning for geometiy and algebra. Indeed, his philoso- phy simply aims to be a generalization of mathematics ; it is his ambition to apply the geometric method to universal science, to make it the method of metaphysics. The Dis- course on Method does not leave us in doul^t on this point : '' Above all," he says, " I was delighted with the mathe- matics on account of the certainty and evidence of their demonstrations, but / had not as yet found out their true use^ and although I supposed that thc}^ were of service only in the meclianic arts, I was surprised that upon founda- tions so solid and stable no loftier structure had been raised." 1 And again: "Those long chains of reasoning, quite simple and easy, which geometers are wont to employ in the accomplishment of their most difficult demonstra- tions, led me to think that everything whieJi might fall under the cognizance of the human mind, might he connected together in the same manner^ and that, provided only one should take care not to receive anything as true which was not so, and if one were always careful to preserve the order neces- 1 Dkcours de la mtlhode (Torrey's translation), Part I., § 10. DESCARTES 307 ?ary for deducing one truth from another, there would be none so remote at which he might not at hist arrive, nor so concealed which he might not discover." ^ These passages and many others make it quite plain that the Cartesian method consists in mathematical deduction generalized. How, then, did Descartes come to be called the inventor of inner observation or the psychological method ? Descartes needed first principles from which to proceed in his deductions, and self-observation furnished him with such principles, from which he deduced all the rest more gconictrico. Hence, those who regard Descartes as the author of the psychological method are right, in so far as observation is one of the phases and the preparatory stage, as it were, in the Cartesian method ; but they err in so far as they regard it as more than an introduction, or kind of provisional scaffolding for deductive reasoning, which undoubtedly constitutes the soul of the Cartesianism of Descartes, Let us add that Descartes not only uses inner observation ; he is a learned anatomist and physiolo- gist (so far as that was possible in the seventeenth cen- tury), and as such appreciates the great value of experience. He loves to study the great booh of the world ; ^ and for any one to oppose him to Bacon on this point is sheer ignor- ance. The most recent historians of Cartesianism justly insist that it is impossible to separate Descartes the phil- osopher from Descartes the scientist; and French positi- vism, too, is right in reckoning among its ancestors a man who tried to make philosophy an exact science. Descartes's failing, a failing which he sliares Avith very many metaphy- sicians, and which is the result of his scholastic training, consists in his impatient desire to conclude and systema- tize; which hinders him from distinguishing sufficiently between the method of scientific investigation and the method of exposition. 1 Discour.t (le la me'thode (Torrey's translation). Part IT., § 11. 2 Id., Part I., § 15. 308 MODERN PHILOSOPHY The application of the geometrical method to metaphy- sics for the purpose of making it an exact science : that is the leading thought in Cartesianism. The geometer starts out from a small number of axioms and definitions, and, by means of deduction, reaches wonderful results. Descartes follows this method. He needs, first, axioms and definitions ; the first part of our exposition will show us how inner observation, aided by reasoning, supplies them. From these definitions he then deduces a series of consequences, wliich will form the subject of the second part. 1. Observing that all he knows or thinks he knows he has received through the senses and from tradition, and that the senses often deceive us, Descartes resolves to doubt everything : to traditional science he opposes a radi- cal douht. But he does not doubt merely for the sake of doubting. Plis scepticism, though radical, is provisional, and has for its object the creation of certain and self- acquired knowledge. He chffers both from the philoso23hers of the Church and the sceptics properly so-called. The Schoolmen had said : Credo ut intelligam ; he liowever says : Duhito id intelligam. Pyrrho, Sextus, and Montaigne had doubted before him, but they did not succeed in mastering tlieir doubts ; they were tired of seeking for the truth, and so made doubt an end in itself, a definitive and hojDcless system. For Descartes doubt is but a means which he hastens to alxandon as soon as he has discovered a certain, primary truth. This, rather than his scepticism, the fact, namely, that he adds to his negation a positive and emi- nently fruitful principle, makes him the father of modern ra,tionalistic philosophy. What is this principle, and how does Descartes discover it? His very doubts reveal it to him. I doubt, says he: that is absolutely certain. Now, to doubt is to think. Hence it is certain that I think. To think is to exist. DESCARTES SOS Hence it is certain that I exist. Cogito^ ergo sum} Though y Descartes derives the substance of his argument from St.^' Augustine, he formulates it differently; he presents it in ^ such an attractive and [)recise form as to impress the mind and to gain its immediate approval. To the classical for- mula, cogito ergo sniii^ Cartesian philosophy owes a large share of its success. Descartes's motto is not, however, an inference, and he does not wish us to regard it as such. As an inference it would be a j^etitlo iwhicipii ; for the con-| elusion is really identical with the major premise. It is a simple analytical judgment, a self-evident proposition. Here then we have a certain basis, on which to con- struct a system of no less certainty tlian its fundamental 23rinciple ; for it is evident that all the propositions follow- ing necessarily from an axiom must be as true as the axiom itself. Thus far, then, I merely know that I exist. I can- not advance and extend the circle of my knowledge without exercising the greatest care ; I must remember constantly Viiat self-evidence^ and that alone, is needed to make me cer- tain of anything. It is evident that I think and that I exist, but it is not evident that the object of my thought exists outside of me, for the nature which deceives me by making me believe in the rising and the setting of the sun, may also delude me by making me assume the reality of ^ sensible things. My ideas may be merely the product of ' my own imagination. Heat, cold, and even disease, may be hallucinations. We should have to abandon all attempts to prove the contrary, we should forever remain confuied within the narrow circle of certitude described by the sum quia cogito, and doubt everything else, did we not find among our ideas one whose foreign origin is self-evident* the idea of God or of the infinite and perfect Being.^ 1 Discours de la mctliode, IV. Cf. the second Meditation. 2 Meditations, III., V. I 310 MODERN PHILOSOPHY This idea cannot be the product of my thought, for my thought is finite, limited, and imperfect, and it is self- evident that a finite cause cannot produce an infinite effect. Shall we say that the idea of the infinite is purely nega- tive ? On the contrary, it is the most positive idea of all, the one which precedes all the others, and without which the idea of the finite would not be possible. Shall we raise the objection that the human ego, though actually imper- fect, may be potentially infinite, because it strives for per- fection, and can therefore produce the idea of God ? But the idea of God is not the idea of a potentially-perfect being, it is the idea of the actually-infinite being. We do not attribute to God an acquired perfection. Our knowl- edge increases and grows more perfect little by little, perhaps indefinitely ; but nothing can be added to God, the eternally-absolute and perfect being. Hence, if the idea of God cannot come from us, it must necessarily come from God, and God necessarily exists. Moreover, the existence of God follows from the very idea of the perfect being, for existence is an essential element of perfection ; without it, God would be the most imperfect of beings. This argument, advanced by St. Anselmus, apparently makes the existence of God dejjend on our idea of the perfect being. Such, however, is not Descartes's meaning. We should not say, God exists because my mind conceives him ; but, My reason con- ceives God, because God exists. The true foundation of our faith in God is not our own conception of him, — that would be a subjective and weak basis, — but God himself, who reveals himself to us in the innate idea of infinity. The objection that the existence of a mountain or a valley, for example, does not follow from the intimate and neces- sary correlation existing between the idea of a mountain and the idea of a valley, is a sophism. From the fact that I cannot conceive a mountain without a valley, nor DESCARTES 311 a valley without a mountain, it does not follow that a mountain or a valley exists, but that the two ideas are hi- separable from each other. Similarly, from the fact that I cannot conceive God except as existent, it follows that the idea of God implies the existence of the perfect Being.^. 1 know, then, (1) that I exist ; and, (2) that God exists. The certainty of God's existence is a matter of the greatest importance ; on it depends all truth, all certitude, all posi- tive knowledge. Without it I could not advance beyond the cogito^ ergo sum ; I should know myself and never know the not-me. It enables me to destroy the barrier erected by doubt between thought and external things. It teaches me (o) that the corporeal world exists. God, and God alone, vouchsafes the reality of my ideas ; the idea of God which he has implanted in me is the perpetual refu- tation of scepticism. In short, as long as I leave out of account the idea of God, I may suppose that the sensible world is an illusion caused by some evil demon, or by the nature of my own mind. But the existence of God as the author of all things being proved, it becomes evident that my instinctive belief in the existence of the world is well founded; for I receive it from a perfect being, that is, from a being incapable of deceiving me. Henceforth, doul)t is impossible, and whatever trace of scepticism I may liave retained is superseded by an unshakable confi- dence in reason.2 ^ In reality, the ontological argument is no more of an inference tlian the cogilo, ergo sum. It is an axiom, a truth which the soul per- ceives immediately and prior to all reflection. 2 Meditation, V., 8 : " But after I have recognized the existence of a God, and because I have at the same time recognized the fact that all things depend upon him, and that he is no deceiver, and in consequence of that I have judged that all that I conceive clearly and distinctly cannot fail to be true ... no opposing reason can be brought against me which should make me ever call it in question ; and thus I have a true and certain knowledge of it. And this same 312 MODERN PHILOSOPHY The three realities whose existence has been proved, — God, the ego, and the corporeal world, — ■ may be defined as follows : God is the infinite substance, on which everything depends and which itself depends on nothing ; the soul is a substance that thinks ; ^ the body is an extended sub- stance. By " substance " we can understand nothing else than a thing which so exists that it needs no other thing in order to exist.^ 2. Observation and reasoning form the basis of the Car- tesian system. A 'priori deduction completes the struc- ture. And here we find, at the very outset, a syllogism which contains the elements of the Spinozistic system. If sub- stance is a thing which needs no other thing in order to exist, it follows that God alone is a substance in the real sense of the tcrm.^ Now, by substance we can conceive nothing else than a thing which so exists as to need nothing except itself in order to exist. There may be some ob- scurity in the phrase : " to need nothing except itself ; " for, strictly speahing, God alone is such a heing^ and no created knowledge extends also to all the other things which I recollect having formerly demonstrated, as the truths of geometry and others like them ; for what is there which can be objected to oblige me to call them in question ? Will it be that my nature is such that I am very liable to be mistaken? But I know ah-eady tliat I cannot deceive myself in judgments the reasons for which I clearly perceive. Will it be that I have formerly regarded many things as true and certain which afterwards I have discovered to be false ? . . . Will it be that perhaps I am asleep ? . . . But even if I am asleep, all that presents itself to my mind with evidence is absolutely true. And thus I recognize very clearly that the certainty and the truth of all knowl- edge depend on the knowledge alone of the true God : so that before I knew him I could not perfectly know anything else. And now that I know him, I have the means of acquiring a perfect knowledge of an infinitude of things, not only of those which are in him, but also of those which belong to corporeal nature. . . ." 1 Principles, I., 9-12. ^ Id., I., 51. » Id. DESCAKTES 313 thing can exist a single moment without being sustained and preserved by his power. Accordingly, the School is right in saying that the term '' substance " does not apply to God and the creatures univocally.'^ Hence, creatures are not substances in the proper sense. Some are sub- stances as compared with others ; they are not substances as compared with God, for they depend on him. Descartes, therefore, understands by relative and finite substance a thing which needs nothing Ijut God in order to exist ; by mode, that which cannot exist or be conceived Avithout something else which is its substance ; by attribute, the essential quality of the substance, from which we can- not abstract without at the same time destroying the substance itself. Minds and bodies are (relative) substances. Thought constitutes the attribute, i. e., the essence of mind ; ^ exten- sion, the attribute, i. e., the essence of body. From the fact that extension constitutes the essence of body, it follows : (1) That there can be no extension in the universe without body, i.e., no empty space; nor bodies without extension, i. e., atoms ; (2) That the cor- poreal world is illimitable, since extension cannot be conceived as having limits (here Descartes contradicts Aristotle and agrees with Bruno) ; (3) That body has, strictly speaking, no centre, that its form is naturally eccentric and its motion centrifugal; for the centre is a mathematical point, and the mathematical point, inex- tended. The properties of extension are divisibility, figurability, and mobility. But divisibility is merely a movement of ^ Principles, I., 51. 2 Id., I., 9 : By the word ihour/ht I understand everything that so takes place in us that we of ourselves immediately perceive it ; hence, not only to understand, to will, to imagine, but even to feel, are the same as to think. 314 MODERN FHILOSOrHY separation and of union. Hence, the properties of exten sion, and consequently of matter, consist in motion. There is no other motion than motion in extension, local motion or change of place. Furthermore, motion cannot originate in the bodies them- selves : they cannot be said to move themselves^ to set them- selves in motion and to persist in it of themselves ; for bodies are extended, extended only, even in their smallest parts, and absolutely devoid of the inner principle, tlie centre of action and impulsion which we call soul or ego. They are entirely passive ; they do not 7iiove themselves at all, but are moved by external causes. We cannot even say that they are heavy, if we understand by weight a tendcneij of the body to fall towards the centre of the earth, i. e., a kind of spontaneous activity in matter. The material world knows no other law than the law of necessity. The })articles of matter, to which the Creator originally imparted rectilinear motion, are distributed in vortices (tourhillons)^ forming stars, then planets, which are extinguished stars, and fijially other heavenly bodies. The science of the world is a problem of mechanics. The material world is a machine, an indefinite — not infinite — chain of move- ments, the origin of which is in God.^ However, we must not mix theology with our interpre- tation of nature ; and physics should entirely abandon the search for final causes, which has hitherto impeded the progress of this science.^ Minds are diametrically o]:»posed to bodies : i. e., they are essentially active and free ; and just as there is nothing inextended in body, mind contains nothing that is not thought, inextended, and immaterial. Body is everything that mind is not ; mind is the absolute negation of every- thing that body is. The two substances entirely exclude each other, they are entirely opposed to each other : body ^ Principles, II., III. "^ Id., I., 28. DESCARTES 315 is absolutely soulless ; the soul, absolutely immaterial (dual- ism of substances, dualistic spiritualism). ^ Like soul and body, the science of soul and the science of body have nothing in common. Physics should confine itself wholly to mechanical interpretation, while the soul should be explained only in terms of itself. Although sensation seems to be an action of the body upon the soul, voluntary motion, an action of the soul upon the body, this is not actually the case ; for there can be no reciprocal action between substances whose attributes ex- clude each other. Man is a composite being, a combina- tion of soul and body. The soul derives its sensible ideas from its own nature on occasion of the corresponding ex- citations; the body, on the other hand, is an automaton, whose movements are occasioned by the volitions of the soul. The body and the soul lead separate lives ; the body is subject to necessity, the soul endowed Avith free-will ; being independent of the body, it survives its destruction. The two parts composing the human being are so exclusive as to make a real union hetwcen soul and hotly absolutely inqjos- sihle. " Those who never philosophize," Descartes ^ writes to Princess Elizabeth, '' and employ their senses only, do not doubt that the soul moves the body, and that the body acts upon the soul. But they regard them both as one and the same thing, i. e., they conceive them to be united ; for to 1 Medilation, VI. Here we notice a striking difference between Descartes and Leibniz, between dualistic spiritnalism and concrete spiritualism. Descartes goes so far as to deny force (tendance) to body ; while Leibniz attributes to it (i. e., to the monads constituting it) not only force, but also perception : it contains the idea which it desires to realize, without, however, being conscious of it. The char- acteristic trait of mind as compared with bod}^ is not perception but apperception, not the tendency itself, but the consciousness of the goal aimed at. 2 A Madame J^/izaheth, Princesse Palatine (Letter XIX., Vol. HI., ed. Garnier). 316 MODERN PHILOSOPHY conceive things as tmited is to conceive them as one and the same thinr/.'^ And when she objects that the reciprocal action between soul and body is a self-evident fact, and that it is easier to attribute extension to the soul than to contradict this evidence, Descartes replies : " I pray your highness kindly to attribute matter and extension to the soul, or, in other words, to conceive it as united to the body ; and after you have so conceived it and have tested the notion in your own case, it will not be difficult to see that the matter attributed to thought is not thought itself, and that the extension of this matter is quite different from the extension of thought : the former is bound to a certain place from which it wholly excludes the extension of the body, which is not the case with the latter, and your high- ness will find no trouble in understanding the distinction between body and soul in spite of the fact that j^our high- ness has conceived them as united." The theory, however, does not hinder Descartes from speaking of the reciprocal action between soul and body, as though this action were real and direct. His anthropol- ogy, particularly as formulated in the Traite des passions^^ everywhere assumes what his metaphysics denies. In con- tradiction to the very explicit statements which have just been quoted, Descartes holds that the soul is united to all parts of the body; that it exercises its functions more especially in the pineal gland ; that the soul and the body act upon each other through the medium of this gland and the animal spirits. However, he never goes so far as to identify the " two substances." The Traite dc Vhomine ct de la formation dii fmtiis ^ points out the distinction which he draws between them : the body walks, eats, and breathes ; the soul enjoys, suffers, desires, hungers and thirsts, loves, hopes, fears ; perceives the ideas of sound, light, smell, 1 Amsterdam, 1650. 2 Paris, 1664 (published by Clerselier). In Latin, Amst., 1677, cum notis Lud. de la Forge. THE CARTESIAN SCHOOL 317 taste, and resistance ; wakes, dreams, and faints. But all these phenomena are consequences — consequences and not effects — of movements caused in the pores of the brain, the seat of the soul, by the entrance and the exit of the animal spirits. Witliout the hody, and particularly without the hrain^ all these j^henomena, as well as the memory i)i which they are retained, would disappear, and nothing would be left to the soul except the conception of pure ideas of substance, thought, space, and infinity, — ideas which are wholly independent of sensation. Moreover, the ideas which need the cooperation of the senses, and consequently of the brain, are entirely different from the objects which we suppose them to represent. The idea is immaterial ; the object, material ; the idea is therefore the opposite of the object, even though it be its faithful image. Our ideas of material qualities no more resemble the ob- jects than pain resembles the needle causing it,^ or the tickling resembles the feather which occasions it. We see, the founder of French philosophy, though a rationalist and spiritualist in principle, really approximates empiricism and materialism. His animal-machine antici- 23ates the Man a Machine of La Mettrie. Though dog- matic in his belief that extension is a reality, he is the precursor of Locke, Hume, and Kant, in that he makes a clear and absolute distinction between our ideas of material qualities and their external causes. § 54. The Cartesian School ^ The philosophy of Descartes clearly and accurately ex- pressed the ideals of its age : the downfall of traditional ^ Traite (III monde ou de la himiere, chap. 1, Paris, 1664 (published by Clerselier). 2 F. Bouillier, Hktoire de la pJ/ilosopJiJe cartesienne ; Damiron, Hktoire de laphdo> 1 Etlu, II., Prop. 7. 2 xe«/er LXXI. SPINOZA 335 stances than our ideas are beings apart from ourselves. In strictly philosophical language, there is only one substan- tive ; everything else is but an. adjective. The substance is the absolute, eternal, and necessary cause of itself ; the mode is contingent, passing, relative, and merely possible. The substance is necessary, i. e., it exists because it exists ; the mode is contingent and merely possible, i. e., it exists because something else exists, and it may be conceived as not existing. In view of this opposition between wimutahle substance and modes, we may ask ourselves the question : How much reality do modes possess in Spinoza's system ? A mode is inconceivable without a subject or a substance that is modi- fied. Now, the substance is unchangeable, it cannot be modified ; hence the mode is nothing ; movement, change, the cosmic process, particular beings, individuals, bodies, souls, the natura naturata, in a word, have no real exist- ence. Still this conclusion, which Parmenides and Zeno drew, is not Spinoza's. On the contrary, he declares with Heraclitus that motion is co-eternal with substance ; he makes an infinite mode of it. Unmindful of the principle of contradiction, but supported by experience, he affirms both the immutability and the perpetual change of being. In this conflict between reasoning and the evidence of facts, which is as old as metaphysics, he deserves credit for not sacrificing thought to reality, or experience to reason. But he tries to smooth over the difficulty ; he does not perceive, or does not wish to perceive, the antinomy, leaving it to modern speculation to point it out and to resolve it. The human soul, like all intellectual modes, is a modifi- cation of infinite thought, the human body a modification of infinite extension. Since the intellectual or ideal order and the real or corporeal order are parallel, every soul cor- responds to a bod}^ and every body corresponds to an idea. The mind is therefore tlie conscious image of the body {idea 336 MODERN PHILOSOPHY corporis).'^ Not that the mind is the body becoming con- scious of itself ; the body cannot be the conscious subject, for thought cannot come from extension, nor extension from thought. Spinoza, like Descartes, regards body as merely extended, and soul as merely thought. But the body is the object of thought or of soul, and there can be no thought, apperception, or soul, without a body. The mind does n(,t know itself, it is not idea mentis excejjt in so far as it is idea corporis or rather idea affectionum corporis?- Sensation is a bodily phenomenon ; it is a prerogative of animal and human bodies, and results from the superior organization of these bodies. Perception, on the other hand, is a mental fact : simultaneously as the body is affected by an excitation the mind creates an image or idea of this excitation. The simultaneity of these two states is explained, as we have said, by the identity of the. mental and bodily substance. The mind is always what the body is, and a well-formed soul necessarily corresponds to a well- organized brain.^ By the same law (the identity of the ideal and the real orders), intellectual development runs parallel with physical development. Bodily sensations are at first confused and uncertain ; to these confused modifi- cations of the imperfect organism correspond confused and inadequate ideas of the imagination^ the source of prejudice, illusion, and error : this makes us believe in general ideas existing independently of individuals, in final causes pre- siding over the creation of things, in incorporeal spirits, in a divinity with human form and human passions, in free- will and other idols.^ 1 Eth., IL, Prop. 13. 2 /r/., Prop. 23 : Mens seipsam non cognoscit nisi quatenus corporis affectionum ideas percipit. The reader will observe that Spinoza does not say : corporis affectiones, but rather : corporis affectionum ideas per- cipit ; so greatly is his psychology still influenced by Cartesian dualism. 3 Eth., III., Prop. 2, Scholium. 4 Eth., IL, Prop. 36 ; Prop. 40, Scholium ; Prop. 48 ; III., Prop. 2, Scholium. SPINOZA 337 It is cliaracteristic of reason to conceive adequate and perfect ideas, that is to say, such as embrace Loth the ob- ject and its causes. The criterion of truth is truth itself and the evidence peculiar to it. He who has a true idea, at the same time knows that he has a true idea, and cannot doubt it.i To tlie objection that fanaticism too is convinced of its truth and excludes uncertainty and doubt, Spinoza answers that the absence of doubt is not, as yet, positive certainty. Truth is true in itself ; it does not depend on any argument for its truth ; if it did, it would be subject to that; it is its own standard. Even as light reveals both itself and darkness, so is truth the criterion both of itself and of error.2 The imagination represents things as they are in relation to us ; reason conceives them from the standpoint of the whole in which they are produced, and in their relation to the universe. The imagination makes man the centre of the world, and what is human the measure of all things : reason rises lje3^ond the self ; it contemplates the universal and eternal, and refers all things to God. All ideas are true in so far as they are referred to God,^ that is, Avhose objects are conceived as modes of the infinite Being. It is also characteristic of reason that it rejects the notion of con- tingency, and conceives the concatenation of things as necessary. The idea of contingency, like so many other inadequate ideas, is a product of the imagination, and is entertained by such as are ignorant of the real causes and the necessary connection of facts. Necessity is the first postulate of reason, the watchword of true science.* The imagination loses itself in the details of phenomena ; reason grasps their unity ; unity and consubstantiality, — that is the second postulate of reason. Finally, it rejects, as pro- 1 Eth., TL, Prop. 43. ' 2 /j.^ n.^ Scholium. 8 Id., II., Prop. 32. 4 Id, I., Prop. 29. 22 338 MODERN PHILOSOPHY ducts of the imagination, final causes and universals con- sidered as realities. The only universal that really exists and is at the same time the highest object of reason, is God, or the infinite and necessary substance of which everything else is but an acci- dent. According to Spinoza, reason can form an adequate idea of him, but not the imagination. ^ The will or active faculty is not essentially different from the understanding.^ It is nothing but a tendency of reason to retain ideas agreeable to it, and to reject such as are distasteful. A volition is an idea that affirms or negates itself. Will and intellect being identical in their essence, it fol- lows that the development of the one runs parallel with that of the other. Corresponding to the imagination, which represents things according to our impressions, we have, in the practical sphere, passion, or the instinctive movement which impels us towards an object or makes us shrink from it. When what the imagination shows us, is of such a nature as to give our physical and moral life a greater intensity ; or, in other words, when a thing is agree- able and Ave strive for it, this wholly elementary form of willing is called desire, love, joy, or pleasure. In the oppo- site case, it is called aversion, hatred, fear, or grief. To the higlier understanding corresponds, in the prac- tical sphere, the will proper, that is, the will enlight- ened by reason, and determined, not by what is agreeable, but by Avhat is true. Not until it reaches this stage can the will, Avhich is quite passive in the state of instinct, be called an active faculty. We act, in the philosophical sense, when anything happens either within us or outside of us, of which Ave are the adequate cause 1 Elh., IT., Prop. 47 and Scholium. ^ Id., II., Prop. 49, Corollary: Voluntas ct inteUectus unum et idem sunt. SPINOZA 339 (aclcequata\ that is, when anything follows from our nature within us or outside of us, which can be clearly and dis- tinctly understood through our nature alone. On the other hand, we are passive when something happens within us or follows from our nature, of which we are but the partial cause. ^ To be passive or to be acted upon does not, therefore, mean not to act at all, but to be limited in one's activity. We are passive in so far as Ave are a part of the universe, or modes of the divine being. God or the uni- verse, by the very fact that he is unlimited, cannot be passive. He is pure action, absolute activity. However active man ma}^ seem in his passions, he is really passive in the proper and primary sense of the term : i. e., limited, impotent, or the slave of things. He can be made free and become active only through the understand- ing. To understand the universe is to be delivered from it. To understand everything is to be absolutely free. Passion ceases to be a passion as soon as we form a clear idea of it.^ Hence, freedom is found in thought and in thought alone. Thought, too, is relatively passive in so far as it is limited by the imagination, but it can free itself from this yoke by sustained application and persistent effort. Since freedom is found only in thought, our knowl- edge of things is the measure of our morality. That is morally good which is conducive to the understanding ; that is bad which hinders and diminishes it.^ Virtue is the power of the understanding ; or, still better, it is man's nature in so far as this has the power of pro- ducing certain effects which can be exj)lained by the laws of that nature alone.* To be virtuous is to be strong, or to act ; to be vicious is to be weak, or passive. From this point of view, not only hatred, anger, and env}^, but also 1 Eth., ITT., Def. 2. 2 /^.^ m., Prop. 59; V., Prop. 3. 3 Eth., IV., Props. 20 and 27. Cf. § 14. 4 Id., IV., Def. 8. 340 MODERN PHILOSOPHY fear, hope, and even pity and repentance, must be reckoned among the vices. Hope is accompanied by a feeling of fear, pity and sympathy, by a feeling of pain, that is to say, by a diminution of our being, by a weakening of our energy. Repentance is doubly bad; for he who regrets is weak and is conscious of his weakness. The man who orders his life according to the dictates of reason will therefore labor with all his might to rise above pity and vain regrets. He will help his neighbor as well as im- prove himself, but he will do it in the name of reason. Thus will he be truly active, truly brave, and truly virtu- ous (in the original sense of the Latin word). He will be brave, for he will not let himself be conquered either by human miseries or his own mistakes, and he will not let himself be vanquished, because he knows that all things follow from the necessity of God's nature. For the philosopher, who is convinced of the necessity of human actions, nothing merits hatred, derision, con- tempt, or pity.^ From his absolute standpoint of reason, even the crimes of a Nero are neither good nor bad, but simply necessary acts. Determinism makes the philoso- pher optimistic, and raises him, by gradual stages of per- fection, to that disinterested love of nature which gives everything its value in the whole of things, to that amor intellcctualis De% or philosophical love of nature, which is the summit of virtue. This sentiment differs essentially from the love of God of positive religions. The latter has for its object a fictitious being, and corresponds to the ele- mentary stage of understanding called opinion or imagina- tion. Since the God of the imagination is an individual, a person like ourselves, and like every living and real per- son, possesses feelings of love, anger, and jealousy, our love for him is a particularistic feeling, a mixture of love and fear, of happiness and restless jealousy ; and the hap- 1 T?'ac(atus polltlcus, I., 4:. SPINOZA 341 piness which it procures for us is still far removed from the perfect blessedness to which we aspire. The philosophical love of God, on the other hand, is an absolutely disinterested feeling ; its object is not an indi- vidual who acts arbitrarily and from whom we expect favors, but a being superior to love and to hate. This God does not love like men ; for to love is to feel pleasure, and to feel pleasure is to pass from less to greater perfection ; now the infinitely perfect being cannot be augmented.^ Hatred likewise is foreign to him, since to hate is to be passive, and to be passive is to be diminished in one's being, which cannot be the case with God. Conversely, the hatred which some men entertain towards God, and their complaints against him, are possible only from the standpoint of the imagination, which conceives God as a person acting arbitrarily. We hate persons only ; we can- not therefore really hate God, conceived as the necessary order of things, as the eternal and involuntary cause of everything that exists. The philosopher cannot help lov- ing God ; at least, he cannot but feel perfectly contented, peaceful, and resigned in contemplating him. This com- plete acquiescence of the thinker in the supreme law, this reconciliation of the soul with the necessities of life, this entire devotion to the nature of things, — is what Spinoza, by accommodation, without doubt, calls the intellectual love of God,2 the source of eternal happiness. In this peculiar feeling, the difference between God and the soul, or substance and mode, is obliterated ; the loved object becomes the loving subject, and conversely. The intellectual love of man towards God is identical with the love of God towards himself.^ Owing to this " trans- formation of natures," the human soul, which is perishable in so far as its functions are connected with the life of the 1 Elh., v., Prop. 17. 2 7^.^ y,^ p^op. 32, Corollary. 3 Id., v., Prop. 36. 342 MODERN PHILOSOPHY bodj,^ is immortal in its divine part, the intellect. By the immortality of the soul we mean, not so much the infinite duration of the person ^ as the consciousness that its sub- stance is eternal. The certainty that the substance of our personality is imperishable, because it is God, banishes from the soul of the philosopher all fear of death, and fills him with an unmixed joy. Let us sum up. Substance is that which exists by itself and by itself alone. Hence neither bodies nor minds can be called substances ; for both exist by virtue of the divine activity. God alone exists by himself and by himself alone : hence there is but one absolutely infinite substance. This substance or God has two relatively infinite attributes ; extension and thought. Extension is modified, and forms bodies ; thought is infinitely diversified, and forms minds. Such is the metaphysics of Spinoza. Necessity and joyful resignation : these two words sum up his ethical teachings. We have shown in what respect Spinozism advances be- yond the Cartesian philosophy. By making mind and mat- ter, soul and body, manifestations of a common principle, it destroys the dualism of a physical universe, absolutely di- vested of all ideal content, and an exclusively intellectual order of things, a world of abstract, incorporeal entities, which are as different from the real cosmos as the latter is supposed to be from the realm of pure thought. The uni- verse is one. True, it contains two elements that are eter- nally distinct and cannot be explained in terms of each other : matter and thought ; but these two elements, although dis- tinct, are inseparable because they are not substances, but attributes of one and the same substance. Every movement, or, in other words, every modification of infinite extension, has an idea, i. e., a modification of infinite thought, corre- sponding to it ; and vice versa : every idea has as its necessary accompaniment a corresponding fact in the physiological 1 Eth., v., Prop. 21. 2 i^i^ Y^ Prop. ^^^ Scholium. LEIBNIZ 343 order. Thought is not without matter, nor matter without thought. Spinozism points out the intimate correlation be- tween the two elements of being, but guards against iden- tifying tliem, as materialism and idealism do, from ojDjiOsite 23oints of view. But this gain is counterbalanced by a difficulty which seems to make for Cartesian dualism. Spinoza holds that one and the same thing (substance) is both extended and thinking, that is, inextended ; hence, he flagrantly violates the law of contradiction. True, he anticipates this objec- tion by declaring, in opposition to Descartes, that corporeal substance is no more divisible^ in so far as it is substance, than spiritual substance ; ^ and so prepares the way for the Leibnizian solution. But, on the other hand, he goes right on calling corporeal substance extended (res extensa)? Now, indivisible extension is a contradiction in terms. It was left to Leibniz to prove that there is nothing con- tradictory in the assumption that one and the same thing can be both the principle of thought and the principle of corporeal existence. He proclaimed the truth Avhich is now accepted as a fundamental principle in physics, that the essence of matter does not consist in extension, but in foru^ and thereby turned the scales in favor of concrete spiritual- ism. It is a contradiction to hold that the same thinir is both extended and inextended ; it is not a contradiction to say that the same thing is force and thought, perception and tendency. § ^Q. Leibniz The life of Gottfrted Wilhelm Leibniz, like his doc- trine, forms the counterpart of Spinoza's. The illustrious Jew of Amsterdam was poor, neglected, and persecuted even 1 Eth., I., Prop. 13, Corollary: Ex his sequitur nullam suhfttantiam et consequenter nullam substantiam co7'poream, quatenus substantia est, esse divisibilem. 2 Id., U., Prop. 2. 344 MODEKN PHILOSOPHY to his dying clay, A^4iile Leibniz knew only the bright side of life. Most liberally endowed with all the gifts of nature and of fortune, and as eager for titles and honors as for knowledge and truth, he had a brilliant career as a jurist, ch]3lomat, and univej'sal savant. His remarkable success is reflected in the motto of his theodicy : Everything is for the hest in the best of jjossihle ivoi'lds. He was born at Leipsic in 1646, and died on the 14th of November, 1716, as Librarian and Court Counsellor of the Duke of Hanover, Privy Coun- sellor, Imperial Baron, etc., etc. His principal philosopliical writings are: Meditationes de cognitione, veritate et ideis (1 684) ; Lettres sur la question si V essence du coiys consiste dans rctendue (in the Jonrnal des savants, 1691) ; Nouveaux essais s'lir Ventendemcnt humain (in reply to Locke's Essag) ; Essais de Theodicee sur la honte de Dieu, la liherte de Vhomme et Vorigine du riial (1710), dedi- cated to Queen Sophia Charlotte of Prussia ; La monado- logie (1714) ; Frincipes de la nature et de la grace, fondes en raison (1714) ; finally, his Correspondence.^ ^ His writings, most of which are brief, have been collected and edited by Raspe (Amsterdam and Leipsic, 1765) ; Louis Diitens (Ge- neva, 1768) ; J. E. Erdmann, Berlin, 1840; Toucher de Careil {(Eavres de Leibniz, published for the first time after the original manuscripts, Paris, 1859 ff.) ; Paul eJanet (2 vols., Paris, 1866, with the correspond- ence of Leibniz and Arnauld); [C. J. Gerhardt, Philosophical writings of Leibniz, 7 vols., Berlin, 1875-90. German writings ed. by G. E. Guhrauer, Berlin, 1838-40. Engl, translation of important philosophi- cal writings by G. M. Duncan, New Haven, 1890 ; of the New Esmysi, by A. G. Langley, London and Xew York, 189.3]. [G. E. Guhrauer, G. W. Freih. v. Leibniz, 2 vols., Breslau, 1842, 1846; Engl, by Mackie, Boston, 1845 ; Ludwig Feuerbach, Dnrstellvng, Entwickehmg und Kritik der leibnizsclieri Philosophie, Ansbach, 1837 ; 2d ed., 1844]; Xourrisson, Laphilosophie de Leibniz, Paris, 1860 ; [J. T. Merz, Leibniz (in Blackwood's Philosophical Classics), London, 1884 ; J. Dewey, Leibniz's New Essays concerning the Human Understanding (Griggs's Philosophical Classics), Chicago, 1888 ; E. Dillmann, Eine neue Darsfellung der lelbnizschen Monadenlehre, Leipsic, 1891.] For the Leibnizian doctrine of matter LEIBNIZ 345 Leibniz opposes to the dualism of extended or unconsci' ous substance and inextended or conscious substance his theory of monads or inextended and more or less conscious substances. It seems that he derived the expression and the conception from Bruno's De monade and De trvplici Qiiinimo ^ (1591). Both the ph3^sical and mental realms contain a series of phenomena which do not depend exclusively either on thought or on extension. If the mind is conscious thought and nothing but that, how shall we explain the countless mijiutc ^perceptions (^perce2:>tions p)etites) ^ wliich baffle all ana- lysis, those vague and confused feelings which cannot be classified, in short, everything in the soul of which Ave are not conscious ? ^ The soul has states during which its per- ceptions are not distinct, as in a profound, dreamless sleep, or in a swoon. During these states the soul either does not exist at all, or it exists in a manner analogous to the body, that is, without consciousness of self. Hence there is in the soul something other than conscious thought : it con- tains an unconscious element, Avhich forms a connecting link between the soul and the physical world.* and monads see Hartenstein, Commentatio de materke apiid Leihnizium notione, Leipsic, 1846 ; for his theodicy, J. Bonifas, Etude sin- la Theo- dicc'e de Leihn/z, Paris, 1863 ; for his doctrine of pre-estahlished har- mony, Hugo Sommer, De doctrina quam de Imrm. prae^t. L. propostiit, Gottingen, 1861:; etc., etc. [Cf. also: Foucher de Careil, Leibniz, Descartes et Spinoza, Paris, 186-') ; E. Pfleiderer, Leibniz und Geulincx, Tiibingen, 1884; L. Stein, Leibniz und 5;?moza, Berlin, 1890; G. Har- tenstein, Locke's Lehre von der menscklicJien Erkenntniss in Vergleicliung mit Lcib7iiz's Kritik derseJben, Leii-»sic, 1864; Frank Thilly, Leibnizens Streit gegen Locke in Anseliung der anr/eborenen Ideen, Heidelberg, 1891 ; and especially K. Fischer's History of Philosophy. — Tr.] 1 [According to L. Stein {Leibniz und Spinoza), from F. Mercurius van Plelmont. — Tr.] 2 Nouveaux Essais, Preface. s Monadologie, § 14. ■* Nouveaux Essais, Book II., ch. IX. and XIX.; Principes dela na- ture et de la grdce, § 4. 346 MODERN PHILOSOPHY Moreover, what are attraction, repulsion, heat, and light, if matter is inert extension, and iiothing hut that ? Cartesi- anism can neither deny nor explain these facts. Consist- ency demands that it boldly deny, on the one hand, the existence of order and life in the corporeal world, on the other, the presence in the soul of all ideas, sensations, and volitions which temporarily sink below the tln^eshold of consciousness and attention, and reappear at the slightest inner or outer solicitation. It must unhesitatingly affirm that there is nothing inextended in the material world, and nothing unconscious in the spiritual world. But that Avould be to fly in the face of facts, and to assert an absurdity. No ; extension, as the Cartesians conceive it, cannot of itself ex- plain sensible phenomena. It is synonymous with passivity, inertia, and death, while everything in nature is action, movement, and life. Hence, unless we propose to explain life by death, and being by non-being, we must of necessity suppose that the essence of body consists of something dif- ferent from extension. And, indeed, does not the state of extension, which con- stitutes the nature of body, presuppose an effort or force that extends itself, a power both of resistance and expan- sion? Matter is essentially resistance, and resistance means activity. Behind the (extended) state there is the act Avhich constantly produces it, renews it (extension). A large body moves with more difficulty than a small body ; this is because the larger body has greater power of resist- ance. What seems to be inertia, or a lack of power, is in reality more intense action, a more considerable effort. Hence, the essence of corporeality is not extension, l)ut the force of extension, or active force. ^ Cartesian physics deals with inert masses and lifeless bodies only, and is therefore identical with mechanics and geometry ; but nature can be 1 Lettre sur la question de savow si Vessence du corps consiste dans Vetendue (ed, JCrflnifinn, p. 113). LEIBNIZ 347 explained only by a metaphysical notion that is higher than a purely mathematical and mechanical notion; and even the principles of mechanics, that is, the first laws of mo- tion, have a higher origin than that of pure mathematics.^ This higher notion is the idea of Force. It is this power of resistance that constitutes the essence of matter. As to extension, it is nothing but an abstraction ; it presupposes something that is extended^ expanded^ and continued. Ex- tension is the diffusion of this " something." Milk, for example, is an extension or diffusion of whiteness ; the diamond, an extension or diffusion of hardness ; body in general, the extension of materiality. Hence, it is plain that there is something in the body anterior to extension ^ (the force of extension). True metaphysics does not recog- nize the useless and inactive masses of which the Car- tesians speak. There is action everywhere. No tody ivithout movement., no substance ivithout effort.^ Only the effects of force are perceptible ; in itself it is an insensible and immaterial thing. Now force constitutes the essence of matter; hence matter is in reality imma- terial in its essence. This paradox, Avhich is also found in Leibniz, Bruno, and Plotinus, in principle overcomes the dualism of the physical and mental worlds. Though force forms the essence of that which is extended, it is itself inextended ; it is therefore indivisible and simple ; it is original ; for composite things alone are derived and have become what they are ; finally, it is indestructible, for a simple substance cannot be decomposed. A miracle alone could destroy it. Tims far Leibniz speaks of force as Spinoza speaks of ^ Lettre sur la question de savoir si ^essence du corps consiste dans Vetendue (ed. Erdmann, p. 113). 2 Examen des principes de Malehranche (Erdmann, p. 692). ^ Eclair cissement du nouveau sysleme de la communication des sub- stances, p. 132. 348 MODERN THILOSOPHY substance, and there seems to be merely a verbal difference between him and his predecessor. But here their paths diverge. Spinoza's " substance " is infinite and unique ; Leibniz's '' force " is neither one nor the other. If there were but one single substance in the world, this one substance would also be the only force ; it alone would be able to act by itself, and everything else would be inert, powerless, passive, or rather, would not exist at all. Now, the reverse is actually true. We find that minds act by themselves, with the consciousness of their individual responsibility ; we likewise find that every body resists all other bodies, and consequently constitutes a separate force. Shall we say, in favor of Spinozism, that the indwelling forces of things are so many parts of the one force ? But that cannot be, since force is essentially indivisible. By denying the infinite diversity of individual forces, the abstract monism of Spinoza reverses the very nature of tilings^ and becomes a pe7incious doctrine.'^ Where there is action there is active force ; now there is action in all things ; each constitutes a separate centre of activity ; hence there are as many simple, indivisible, and original forces as there are things. These original forces or monads may be compared to physical points or to mathematical points ; but they differ from the former in that they have no extension, and from the latter, in that they are objective realities. Leibniz calls them meta^jhysiccd poirits or points of substance ^ (they are both exact, like mathematical points, and real, like physical points), formal j^oints, formal atoms, substantial forms (in scholastic language), to indicate that each con- stitutes an individual, independent of all the other monads, acting of itself and depending only on itself in form, character, and entire mode of life. 1 De ipsa natura, sive de ri insita aciionihiisque C7'eahirarum, § 8 Cf. Leftre 11. a M. Bourgupt. 2 Nouvcaxi si/sfhne de la nafure, § 11. LEIBNIZ 349 Whatever happens in the monad comes from it alone ; no external cause can produce modifications in it. Since it is endowed with spontaneous activity, and receives no influence from without, it differs from all other monads, and differs from them forever. It cannot be identified with anything ; it eternally remains wdiat it is {princi][)ium dis- tinctionis). It has no luindoivs hy which anything can enter or pass out.'^ Since each monad differs from and excludes all the rest, it is '' like a separate world, self-sufficient, independent of every other creature, embracing the infinite, expressing the universe." '^ It follows that two individual things cannot be perfectly alike in the w^orld. But here a serious objection arises. If each monad con- stitutes a separate world, independent of all other beings ; if none has " windows " by which anything can enter or depart; if there is not the slightest reciprocal action be- tween individuals, — what becomes of the universe and its unity? Spinoza sacrificed the reality of individuals to the principle of unity ; does not Leibniz go to the other ex- treme? Are there not, according to his assumption, as many universes as there are atoms ? This difficulty, which necessarily confronts all atomistic theories, Leibniz circum- vents rather than solves. He has broken up, shattered, and pulverized the monolithic universe of Spinoza : how will he be able to cement these infinitesimal fragments together again, to reconstruct the ev /cat Trav? He finds the synthetic principle in the analogy of monads and in the notion of 'pre-estahlished harmony. Though each monad differs from all the rest, there is an analogy and a family resemblance, so to speak, between them. They resemble each other in that all are endowed with perceio- 1 Moimdologie, § 7. 2 Nouveau systeme de la nature, § 16. [I have in many instances used Duncan's translations, making such changes as I deemed proper. -Tr.] 350 MODERN PHILOSOPHY tlon and desire or appetition^ — Schopenhauer would say, loill. Those on the lower stages in the scale of things, as well as the highest and most perfect monads, are forces, entelechies, and souls.^ Souls alone exists and that which we call extension or body is nothing but a confused per- ception, a phenomenon, a sensible manifestation of effort, that is to say, of the immaterial. Thus the dualism of soulless matter and denaturized mind is forever overcome. " Whatever there is of good in the hypotheses of Epicurus and of Plato, of the greatest materialists and the greatest idealists, is here combined." ^ Matter signifies a relation^ a negative relation ; it does not express a mode of the monad's positive being, as the negative expression impene- trable very Avell indicates ; thought (perception) and tend- ency (appetition) are positive attributes, permanent modes of being, not only of the higher monads but of all without exception. Leibniz emphatically maintains that perception is universal,^ and answers the objection that beings inferior to man do not thinks by the statement that "there are infinite degrees of perception, and perception is not neces- sarily sensation." * The more the Cartesians persisted in denying all analogy between human thought and the mental phenomena in animals, the more he inclined towards this paradoxical conception. The perceptions of lower beings are infinitely minute, confused, and unconscious ; those of man are clear and conscious : that is the entire difference between soul and mind^ perception and apperception. The perceptions of the monad do not, it is true, extend beyond itself. Having no "windows by which anything can enter or depart," it can only perceive itself. We our- 1 Monadologie, §§ 19, 66, 82. 2 Re'plique aux reflexions de Bayle, p. 186. 3 Ad Des Bosses Epist. 111. : Necesse est omnes entelechias sive monades perceptione prceditas esse. * Lettre a M. des Maizeaux. LEIBNIZ 351 selves, the higher monads, do not perceive anything except our own being, and that alone we know immediately. The real world is wholly inaccessible to us, and the so-called world is merely the involuntary projection of what takes place within ourselves. If, notwithstanding, we know what takes place outside of us, if we have an (indirect) per- ception of the external world, it is because we are, like all monads, representatives of the universe, and because, con- sequently, that which takes place in us is the reproduction in miniature of that whicli takes place on the large scale in the macrocosm. Since the monad directly perceives itself alone and its own contents, it follows that the more ade- quate an image it is itself, the more complete will its per- ception of the universe be. The better a monad represents the universe, tlie better it represents itself. If the human soul has a clear and distinct idea of the world, it is because it is a more exact and more faithful image {idea) of the universe than the soul of the animal and the soul of the plant.^ All monads represent and perceive, or, in a word, repro- duce the universe, but they reproduce it in different degrees, and each in its own way. In other terms, there is a grada- tion in the perfection of the monads. In the hierarchy thus formed, tlie most perfect monads rule, the less perfect ones obey. Accordingly, we must distinguish between ph3^sical individuals, such as nature offers, and the metaph3^sical in> dividuals or monads composing them. A plant or an animal is not a monad and individual in the metaphysical sense, but a combination of monads, of which one rules and the others obey. The central monad is what is called the soul of tlie plant, animal, or man; the subordinate monads grouped around it form what we call body. " Each living 1 Repliqiie mix reflexions de Bai/le, p. 184 ; Monadologie, §§ 56-62 ; Principes de la nature et de la r/rcice, § o. 352 MODERN PHILOSOPHY being," as Leibniz expressly states,^ '' has a ruling entel- ecliy, which is the soul in the animal, but the members of this living body are full of other living beings, — plants, animals, — each of which has also its entelechy or govern- ing soul." " Each monad," he also says,^ '' is a mirror of the universe, from its point of view, and accompanied by a multitude of other monads composing its organic body, of which it is the ruling monad." ^ However, by virtue of the autonomy of the monads, this dominating influence of the central monad is purely ideal ; the latter does not really act upon the governed monads.* The obedience of the governed monads is, in turn, quite spontaneous. They do not subordinate themselves to the ruling monad because this forces them to do so, but because their oivn nature comjKls them to do it} In the formation of organisms, the lower monads group themselves around the more perfect monads, which, in turn, spontaneously grouj) themselves around the central monad. This process might be compared to the construction of a temple in wliich the columns spontaneously put themselves in the desired place, with the capital pointing upwards and the pedestal at the bottom. An inorganic body, a rock, or a liquid mass is likewise an aggregation of monads, but without a ruling monad. Such bodies are not inanimate ; for each of the monads composing them is both soul and body ; but they seem inanimate because their constitutive monads, being of like nature, do not obey a governing monad, but hold themselves in equilibrium, so to speak. After these preliminaries, we expect Leibniz to solve the ^ Monad ologie, § 70. 2 l^effi^e ^ ]\f. Dangicourf, p. 74G. 8 Extrait d'une lettre a M. Dangicourt, p. 746 ; Monadologle, § 70. ^ Monadologle, § 51. ^ Ad Des Bosses EpisL XXX. : Siihsfanfia agit quantum potest, 7iisi impediatur : impeditur autem etiam substantia simplex, sed naturaliter non nisi intus a se ipsa. LEIBNIZ B53 problem of the reciprocal action of soul and body in the simplest and easiest manner. Thought and extension are not substances which repel and exclude each other, but dif- ferent attributes of one and the same substance. Hence, nothing seems more natural than to assume a direct con- nection between intellectual phenomena and the facts of the physiological world. That is not the case, however, and the metaphysics of Leibniz finds itself as powerless as Cartesianisn. before this important problem. The connec- tion just mentioned would be perfectly apparent if the human individual were a single monad, having as its im- material essence the soul, and as its sensible manifestation, the body. If by body we meant the material element in- hering in the central monad (for it must be remembered that each monad, and consequently also the central monad or the liighest soul, is both soul and body), notliing would be more proper than to speak of a mutual action between soul and body. But, as we have just shown, the physical inchvidual is not an isolated monad, but a central monad surrounded by other monads, and it is the latter, or this group of subordinate souls, which, strictly speaking, con- stitute the body of the individual. Now, the monads have no windows ; within one and the same monad, the ruling monad, for example, there may and must be a causal rela- tion between its successive states ; such a relation, how- ever, is impossible between two different monads. Hence a real and direct action of the dominant monad upon the subordinate monad, or of soul upon body, is as impossible in Leibniz's system as in that of Descartes. This action is merely apparent. In sensation the soul seems to suffer the influence of the body, and the parts of the body, in turn, move as though their movements were determined by the volitions of the soul. As a matter of fact, neither one nor the other is affected by something ex- ternal to it. No soul state, no volition, for example, can 23 354 MODERN PHILOSOPHY '' penetrate " the monads constituting the body ; hence the soul does not act directly upon the body ; our arms are not moved by an act of will. Nothing in the body can " pene- trate " the dominant monad : hence, no impressions enter the soul through the senses, but all our ideas are innate. Body and soul seem to act on each other ; the former moves when the latter wills it, the latter perceives and conceives when the former receives a physical impression, and this is due to a pre-established liarnfiony^ owing to which the monads constituting the body and the ruling monad necessarily agree, just as two perfectly regulated clocks always show the same time.^ The theory of pre-established harmony differs from the occasionalistic system in an important point. The latter assumes a special divine intervention every time the soul and the physical organism are to agree. God regulates the soul by the body or the body by the volitions of the soul, as a watchmaker constantly regulates one clock by the other. According to Leibniz, the harmony between the movements of the body and the states of the soul is the effect of the Creator's perfect work, as the perpetual agreement betAveen two well-constructed watches results from the skill of the mechanic who has constructed them. Those who assume that the Creator constantly intervenes in his work, regard God as an unskilful watchmaker, who cannot make a per- fect machine, but must continually repair what lie has made. Not only does God not intervene at every moment, but he never intervenes. " Mr. Newton and his followers," says Leibniz,2 " have a curious opinion of God and his work. According to them, God must wind up his watch from time to time ; otherwise it would cease to move. He had not sufficient insight to make it run forever. Nay, God's ^ Second eclaircissement du systeme de la communication des substances, pp. 133-134. 2 Lettre a Clarke, p. 716. LEIBNIZ 355 machine is so imperfect, according to them, that he is obliged to clean it, from time to time, by an extraordinary concourse, and even to repair it as a watchmaker repairs his work ; the oftener he is obliged to mend it and to set it right, the poorer a mechanic he is." . . . "According to my system, bodies act as if there were no souls, and souls act as if there were no bodies, and both act as if each influ- enced the other." ^ Perhaps,^ from the theological point of view, Leibniz's theory of pre-established harmony is preferable to the hy- pothesis of the assistance or perpetual concourse of God, but it does not satisfy the curiosity of the philosopher any more than does the Cartesian theory. To say that body and soul agree in their respective states by virtue of a pre-estab- lished harmony is to say that a thing is because it is. Leib- niz conceals his ignorance behind a science that rises above all the theories of the past. When we consider how ex- travagantly Leibniz's friends and Leibniz himself eulogized his system, we hardly know what to wonder at most, the delusion of our philosopher or the simplicity of his ad- mirers. We have found, with Leibniz, that monads reflect the universe in different degrees ; that some monads reflect it better than others. This pre-supposes the existence of a lowest monad, which reproduces the universe in the most elementary manner possible, and a highest monad, which expresses it in a perfect manner : a positive and a superla- tive. Between these two extremes we have an infinite 1 Monadologie, § 81. ■2 We say perhaps ; for the objection may be urged against Leibniz that the perpetual mh-acle of the Cartesians is not a miracle in the sense that the natural course of things is violently interrupted, and that it is not a miracle precisely because it is perpetual. From this point of view, pre-established harmony, a miracle performed once for all, at the beginning of things, is a conception philosophically inferior to the Cartesian hypothesis. 356 MODERN PHILOSOPHY chain of intermediate monads. Each intermediate monad forms a different pointy and, consequently, a different pomt of view, on the line connecting the extremes ; each, as such, differs from all the rest. But the monads are infinite in number. Hence we have on the ideal line between the lowest and the highest monad, i. e., on a line that is limited on all sides and is not infinite, an infinity of different points of view. From this it follows that the distances separating these points of view are infinitely small, that the difference between two adjacent monads is imperceptible (discrimen indiscernihle). The 'principle of continuity ^ removes the gaps which are supposed to exist between the mineral and vegeta- ble kingdoms, and the vegetable and animal kingdoms.^ There are no gaps, no absolute oppositions in nature ; rest is an infinitely minute movement ; darkness, infinitely little light; the parabola, an ellipse one of whose foci is infinitely distant ; perception in the plant, an infinitely con- fused thought.^ This conception biidges the chasm which the Cartesians made between brutes and man. Brutes are merely imperfect men, plants imperfect animals. Leibniz does not, however, regard man as a product of evolution. Far from it. Each monad remains eternally what it is, and the soul of the plant cannot therefore be transfoianed into an animal soul, nor an animal soul into a human soul. But his doctrine of the pre-existence of monads, and his teach- ing that they develop indefinitely, logically culminate in the theory of transformation. " I recognize," he writes ^ to Des Maizeaux,^ " that not only the souls of brutes, but all monads or simple substances from which the composite phenomena are derived are as old as the world ; " and a 1 TIteodicee, § 348. 2 i^ff^^ jy ^ j[f Bourf/iipf. ^ Nouveaux essais, Preface. •* Erdmann's edition, y>. (JTG. ^ The biographer of Bayle and editor of his Dictionnaire hktorique et critique. LEIBNIZ 357 few lines above he says : " I believe that the souls of men have pre-existed, not as reasonable souls but as merely sensi- tive souls, which did not reach the superior stage of reason until the man whom the soul was to animate was conceived." The view that man pre-existed in the animal could not be stated with o^reater clearness. It even seems as thouo-h Leibniz's " souls " pre-exist in the inorganic world, like so many germs. In its state of pre-existence, he says, in sub- stance, the monad which is to become a soul is absolutely naked.} or without a body ; that is to say, it is not sur- rounded by that group of subordinate monads which will form its organs, and, consequently, exists in a kind of un- conscious state. Hence, the monads destined to become either animal or human souls wholly resemble inanimate b(^dies, from the beginning of the Avorld until they are in- corporated. The passage of the monads into bodies (incarnation) can- not be conceived as a metempsychosis or a metasomatosis, if we mean by these two terms the introduction of the soul into a body formed without its assistance. Nor can future life be considered in such a light. By virtue of tbe law of p]'e-established harmony, the development of the soul runs parallel with that of the body, and although there is no real and immediate communion between the central monad and the subordinate monads constituting its body, there is an ideal correlation between the latter and the soul. With the reservation made above,^ it is correct to call the soul tbe architect of the body. A soul cannot give itself any body whatsoever, nor can any body serve as its organ.^ Each soul has its body. But though there is no metempsychosis, i. e., no passage of souls into bodies already formed, there 1 Monndologie, § 24. 2 p. 352. * This expression can only be used in a figurative sense by Leibniz for there is no actual relation between body and soul. 358 MODERN PHILOSOPHY is mctamoiyhosis, and perpetual metamorphosis.^ The soul changes its body only gradually and by degrees. ^ Owing to the principle of continuity, nature never makes leaps, but there are insensible transitions everywhere and in everything. f Future life cannot be incorporeal. Pluman souls and all other souls are never without bodies ; God alone, being pure action, is wdiolly without body. Since the central monad is " primitive " like all monads, it cannot be created ex niliilo upon its entrance into actual life, nor annihilated at its departure. " What we call generation is development or increase ; Avhat we call death is envelopment and dim- inution. Strictly speaking, there is neither generation nor death, and it may be said, that not only is the soul inde- structible, but also the animal itself, although its machine is often partially destroyed." ^ As regards rational souls, it may be assumed that they will pass " to a grander scene of action " at the close of their present life. Moreover, their immortcdity is not the result of a particular divine favor or a privilege of human nature, but a metaphysical necessity, a universal phenomenon embracing all the realms of nature. Just as each monad is as old as the world, so, too, each one *-' is as dural^le, as stable, and as absolute as the universe of creatures itself."^ The plant and the grub are no less eternal than man, the angels, and the archangels.^ Death is but a turning-point in the eternal life, a stage in the never-ending development of the monad. 1 Principes de la nature et de la grace, § 6. 2 Monadologie, § 72. 3 /^.^ §§ 73^ 77, * Nouveau systhme de la nature., § 16. ^ Ad Wagnerum, p. 467 : Qui brutis animas, aUisque materice jmrtihus omnem perceptionem et organlsmiim negant, illi divinam majestatem non satis agnoscunt, introducentes aliquid indignum Deo et incultum, netnpe vacuum metaphysicum . . . Qui vero animas veras perceptionemque dant brutis, et tamen animas eorum naturaUter perire posse statuunt, etiam de- monstrationem nobis tollimt, per quam nstenditur mentes nostras naturaUter perire non posse. LEIBNIZ 359 In the system of Leilmiz we again find Spinoza's ex- tended and thinking- sn])stance ; bnt here it appears as the force of extension and perception, and is nmltiplied infin- itel3\ We likewise meet his notion of mode and his de- terminism, but this is softened by the doctrine of the substantiality of individuals. In spite of its absolute identity, the monad develops continually. Our author takes it '' for granted that every being, and consequently the created monad also, is subject to change, and even that this change is continual in each." ^ The soul, like the body, is in a state of change, tendency, and appetition. This perpetual change is called life. Each of these states composing it is the logical consequence of the preceding state and the source of the following state. "As every present state of a simple substance is naturally a conse- quence of its preceding state, so its present is big Avith the future." 2 Hence, freedom of indifference is out of the question in the human soul. In the system of Leibniz, each substance or monad is free in the same sense as Spinoza's unitary sub- stance ; i. e., it is not determined by any power outside of itself. But though not determined from without, it is not on that account independent of its own nature, free in reference to itself. The determinism of Leibniz is to that of Spinoza what the determinism of St. Thomas is to the predestination of St. Augustine. It allows each spirit to be " as it were, a little divinity in its own department," and so softens the element in fatalism which is objectionable to the moral sense, without, however, ceasing to apply the law of causality and the principle of sufficient reason to both the physical and moral realms. " I am very far removed," he says, " from accepting the views of Brad- wardine, Wiclif, Hobbes, and Spinoza, but we must always bear witness to the truth," ^ and this truth is autonomous 1 Monadologie, § 10. 2 j^i^ § 22. ^ Theodicee, II. 360 MODERN PHILOSOPHY determinism : nothing determines the acts of the soul ex- cept the soul itself and its preceding acts. If each monad is, " as it were, a little divinity in its own department," if each is a little absolute, what is the highest Divinity, the real absolute ? If Ave were to judge from what we now know of the theory of monads, we should reply : Leibniz substitutes for the monotheism of Descartes and the pantheism of Spinoza a kind of polytheism, for the monarchical conception of the universe, a kind of cosmical republic governed by the law of harmony. But, though that may be his secret thought, it is not his exoteric doctrine. The harmony which governs the universe is a harmony 2J re-established by God : it is not itself the absolute. The monads, which '' are the true atoms of nature and tlie ele- ments of things," ^ are none the less created.'^ They are indestructible, but a miracle can destroy them.^ That is to say, they are neither absolutely primitive and eternal, nor, in a Avord, the absolute ; but they depend on a divin- ity, ^' the primitive unity or the original simple substance, of Avhich all monads, created or derived, are the pro- ducts, and are born, so to speak, fi'om moment to moment, by continual fulgurations of the Divinity." ^ Hence, we have created monads on the one hand, and an uncreated monad, the Monad of monads, on the other ; tlie former are finite and relative ; the latter is infinite and absolute. This Monad of monads is not, like Bruno's, the universe itself considered as infinite ; it is a real God, that is, a God distinct from the universe. Leibniz proves his existence by the principle of sufficient reason. '' This sufficient reason for the existence of the universe cannot be found in the succession of contingent things, that is, of bodies and their representations in souls ; because matter being indif- ferent in itself to motion and to rest, and to this or that 1 Monadolofjie, § 3. ^ Id., % 47. 8 Id., § 6. * Id., § 47. LEIBNIZ 361 motion, we cannot find the reason of motion in it, and still less of a particular motion. And although the present motion which is in matter comes from the preceding mo- tion, and this, in turn, from one preceding it, we do not advance one step though we go ever so far ; for the same question always remains. Thus, it is necessary that the sufiicient reason, which has no further need of another reason, he outside of this series of contingent things, and be found in a substance which is their cause, or which is a necessary being, having the reason of its existence in itself, otherwise we should still have no sufficient reason at which to stop. And this ultimate reason of things is called God. This simple primitive substance must contain in itself eminently the perfections contained in the derivative sub- stances which are its effects ; hence it will have perfect power, knowledge, and will, that is, it will have omnipo- tence, omniscience, and supreme goodness." ^ Although Leibniz protests against anthropomorphism, he speaks of God as having " chosen the best possible plan in creating the universe, . . . and, above all, the laws of movement best adjusted and most conformaljle to abstract or metaphysical reasons." . . . Such, for example, by virtue of which "the same quantity of total and absolute force is always pre- served in it," and that other law by virtue of which " action and reaction are always equal." ^ The difficulty confronting the Leibnizian theology is the same as that which meets Descartes. The latter had to confess that the word " substance " when applied to God has not the same meaning as when applied to tlie creature, and, consequently, that the creature is not a substance in the true sense : a statement which occasioned the system of Spinoza. Leibniz's theology, too, seems to be caught on the horns of a dilemma : Either God is a monad, and in that ^ Principes de la nature et de la grace, §§ 8, 9. 2 Id., §§ 10, 11. Cf. Theodicee, III., § 315, 362 MODERN PHILOSOPHY case finite beings are not monads in the strict sense of the term (which overthrows the monadok^gy) ; or, created be- ings are monads, and then we cannot call God a monad unless we identify him with his creatures. But the pliant and cautious genius of a Leibniz turns to account even his defeats. Though the idea of God is confused and contra- dictory for our intelligence, it is not so in itself. The fact that Ave are confronted with insoluble difficulties in contem- plating the absolute, simply proves that the human soul is not the Monad of monads, — that it occupies a distinguished but not the highest place in the scale of substances. Hence, it must follow from the very nature of things that we can have only a confused notion of the Supreme Being. Just as the plant has a confused perception of the animal, and the animal a confused perception of man, so, too, man has only an indistinct perception and a faint inkling of higher beings and the Supreme Being. In order to have an ade- quate notion of God, one would have to be God, and the fact that we have no such notion finds its natural explana- tion in the transcendency of the Supreme Being. God is supernatural or transcendent in relation to man, as man is a supernatural being with respect to animals, the animal a supernatural being with respect to plants, and so on. If we mean by reason the human understanding, God is also supra-rational in so far as he surpasses human nature (or is supernatural) ; that is, he transcends human intelligence as much as his perfection surpasses ours. We see with what skill the philosopher of universal conciliation acquits himself of his task as a mediator be- tween science and Christianity. Unlike the English phi- losophers, his contemporaries, who in true nominalistic fashion endeavor to separate religion and philosophy, he begins the work of St. Anselm and St. Thomas all over again on a different plan. His highest ambition is to form an alliance between philosophy and faith, and, if possible, S" '^^ LEIBNIZ 363 between Lutheranism and Catholicism. He adopts the motto of the Schoolmen : Absolute agreement between the dogmas of the Church and human reason. ^ He antagonizes those wlio distinguish between philosophical truth and re- ligious truth, — a distinction Avliich saved the freethinkers of the Renaissance from anatliema, — and he finds fault with Descartes for having cleverly evaded the discussion of the mysteries of faith, as though one could hold a philos- ophy that is irreconcilable with religion, or as though a religion could be true that contradicts truths otherwise proved.'^ Behind his seeming orthodox}^, however, we may easily detect the traces of his rationalism. When he proclaims theism he does so in the name of philosophy ; when he affirms the supernatural he does it in the name of reason, and, to a certain extent, by means of rationalism. He is so far removed from assuming the absolute transcendency of the divine beincr, as to hold that what transcends human reason cannot contradict reason. Like the ancient School- men before him, he continues to remind us that whatever is above reason is not therefore against reason, that Avhatever is decidedly contradictory to reason cannot be true in reli- gion. By virtue of the law of universal analogy, there must be an analogy, an agreement, a harmony, between divine reason and human reason ; and a radical opposition between the Creator and the creature is not conceivable. Owing to this agreement, man naturally possesses faith in God and in the immortality of the soul, these two central doctrines of all religion ; and revelation simply helps to bring out the ^ Nothing better characterizes the essentially scholastic tendency of Leibniz than the following title of one of his last compositions : The Principles of Nature and of Grace, Founded on Reason (1714), and tliis other title ; Discourse on the Conformity of Faith with Reason (Intro- i duction to the Theodicy). ^ De vero methodo philosophice et theologice, p. IIL 364 MODERN PHILOSOPHY truths which have been implanted in the human mind by the Creator. Christianity is evidently reduced to the narrow proportions of deism in the system of Leibniz, and revela- tion becomes a mere sanction of the principles of natural religion. But, how could a thinker who held that souls have " no windows through which anything can enter or pass out " do otherwise than favor theological rationalism ; how could he seriously declare that the soul is enlightened by a super- natural revelation ? How could the man who laughed at Newton and the Cartesians for assuming that God in- terferes with the world, really assume a special interven- tion of God in history? If we believe in revelation, we must also assume that God has given or can give to the soul the means of communicating with the external world, or windows, to use Leibniz's expression. Now, if God can give windows to the intelligent monad, then it is not con- trary to its nature to have them, — then it cmi have them. This meafis that it can cease to be an absolutely spontane- ous force or an absolute ruler in its domain ; it means, in a word, that it ceases to be a monad. Leibniz must choose between two alternatives : he must either accept the theory of monads and ]jre-established harmony, which, according to his explicit declaration, ^ excludes all special divine in- tervention, or abandon his system in favor of the faith of the Church. The author of the TheodicAj^ like St. Thomas, subordinates the will of God to the divine reason and its eternal laws. Tills is a characteristic trait of Leibnizian rationalism, and contrary to the doctrines of Descartes and his teachers, the Scotists and the Jesuits, according to whom not only meta- physical and moral truths, but even mathematical axioms, depend on the divine will. " It must not be imagined," he says,^ " as is sometimes done, that the eternal truths which ^ Principes de la nature et de la (jrdce, § 13. ^ Monadologic, § 40 LEIBNIZ 365 are dependent on God are arbitrary and depend on his will, as Descartes and afterward M. Poiret ^ seem to have be- lieved. . . . Nothing could be more unreasonable. . . . For if the establishment of justice (for example) happened arbi- trarily and without reason, if God hit upon it haphazard, as we draw lots, then his goodness and wisdom are not I'evealed in it, and it does not bind him. And if he es- tablished or made what we call justice and goodness by a purely arbitrary decree and without reason, he can unmake them and clbanye tlieir nature, so that we have no reason to suppose that he will ol)serve them always. ... It is no more contrary to reason and piety to say (with Spinoza) that God acts without knowledge, than to claim that his knowledge does not find the ctenud rules of (joodness and of justice among its objects ; or finally, that he has a will which has no regard for these rules." ^ Hence, the God of Leibniz is not like an Oriental mon- arch ; he is a sovereign bound by laws which he cannot un- make, a kind of constitutional king and chief executive of the universe, rather than the all-powerful autocrat of Ter- tullian and Duns Scotus. He resembles the God of Mon- tesquieu, who " has his laws," rather than the God of the indeterministic theologians. The supreme power is not the will of God taken ly itself^ but his will governed by the eternal laws of his intelligence, laws which determine his conduct without constraining him, since they constitute the very essence of his nature. Instead of the nature of God^ Spinoza simply said nature. According to Leibniz, the Supreme Being is nature manifesting itself through the 1 A pastor at Hamburg, a native of Metz (164G-1719). Against the theory of innate ideas of his sometime teacher Descartes, and Locke's theory of acquired ideas, he sets up his mystical theory of m- fxised ideas, that is, ideas communicated by an inspiration from on high {QLconomie divine, 7 vols., Amsterdam, 1G87 ; etc.). 2 Theodicee, II., 176-177. ^66 MODERN PHILOSOPHY medium of a personal will ; according to Spinoza, he is na- ture acting without such a medium ; or, if we choose, an unconscious will. Hence, both thinkers are determinists, : however violently Leibniz may protest against the teachings of the Jew of Amsterdam. In creating things, God was determined by his infinite reason, and necessarily created the best possible world. Evil exists only in the details, and serves to enhance the glory of the good : the whole is supremely perfect. The Theodicy deals with the question of physical, metaphysical, and moral evil, and aims to refute those who regard the ex- istence of evil as an argument against Providence. It is a popular rather than a scientific book. It is surprising with what familiarity the author speaks of God, just as though God had initiated him into the innermost secrets of his nature. How can Leibniz, who has such certain knowledge that God is not the free author of the natural and moral laws, that his will depends on his intelligence, that he neces- sarily created the best possible world, maintain that God is supra-rational ? What a strange procedure ! First he rele- gates the Being of Beings to the domain of mystery, like so many theologians, and then he defines him, describes him, and makes out a complete inventory of his attributes, as though he were describing a plant or a mineral. For this reason as well as on account of his attitude towards empir- icism, Leibniz, whose monadology is so great, so original, and so modern, still belongs to the tribe of the Schoolmen. But the time had now come for subjecting ontology to the critical sif ting-process. The controversy between Leib- niz and the Englishman Locke concerning the origin of ideas formed the prelude to an important epoch in the his- tory of modern philosophy. In view of his principle " that the monad has no win- dows," Leibniz cannot grant that our knowledge has any other source than the soul itself. Nothing can enter it j LEIBNIZ 367 hence, strictly speaking, tlie direct observation of external facts or experience is impossible. Experience through the medium of the senses is an illusion ; it is, in reality, noth- ing but confused thought. He repeatedly declares that the soul, and the soul alone, is both the subject and the ob- ject of sensation. We never perceive and experience any- thing but ourselves. Everything in the mind is spontane- ous production, thought, or speculation. Whether we shall regard our thought as the result of an impression from with- out, or as the product of the mind itself, will depend on its degree of clearness or confusion. Thought, however, though autonomous, is not arbitrary and free from law. It obeys the sovereign laws of contradiction and sufficient reason. But it does not depend on anything external to the thinking monad, around which the principium dis- tinctionis rises like an impassable wall. Leibniz also declares, in answer to Locke's denial of innate ideas, ^ that nothing is inborn in the understanding except the understanding itself^ and, consequently, the germ of all our ideas.'^ The difference between Leibniz and Locke seems very slight : Locke by no means denies the innate power of the mind to form ideas, while Leibniz grants that ideas do not pre-exist in the mind actually ; they exist in it virtually, as the veins in a block of marble might mark the outlines of a statue to be made from it. Noav, then, either the expression, virtual or potential existence of ideas in the mind, has no meaning, or it is synonymous with power (potentia, virtus')^ or mental faculty of forming ideas, a faculty which Locke is perfectly willing to admit. But this seemingly insig- nificant controversy really represented the opposition be- 1 Essay concerning Human Understanding, ch. T. 2 Nouveaux essais, Preface : Nous sommes innes d nous memes pour ainsi dire ; id., II., 1 : Nihil est in intellectu quod nonfuerit in sensu, ex- cipe : nisi ipse intellectus. 868 MODERN PHILOSOPHY tween the Middle Ages and modern philosophy, between the speculative method, wliich passes from conceptions to facts, and the positive method, which passes from facts to concep- tions. Locke does not merely combat the idealistic princi- ple ; what he especially antagonizes is the idealistic prejudice that a ^priori reasoning relieves the philosopher of the duty of directly observing facts. By declaring himself against the author of the Essay concerning Hiinian Understanding^ Leibniz, wlio was otherwise more profound and more specu- lative than his opponent, sided with the School, that is, with the past against the future. All that was necessary was to present his doctrines in scholastic form. This the mathematician Christian Wolff ^ proceeded to do. The Leibnizian system con- tained a precious gem : the conception of active force, which had superseded the dualism of thought and exten- sion, and this treasure was lost in the labored attempts of the professor of Halle to remodel the system. This clear and systematic but narrow-minded thinker revived the ex- tended and thinking substances of Cartesianism, without even suspecting that he was thereby destroying the cen- tral and really fruitful notion of the Monadology. Thus altered and divided into rational ontology, psychology, cosmology, and theology, the Leibniz-Wolffian metaphys- 1 1G79-1754. Professor at the University of Halle, from which the influence of the Pietists succeeded in removing him. He was recalled by Frederick II. Latin works : Oratio de Sinarum pJiilosopJiia, Halle, 1726 ; Philosophia rationoUs sive logica methodo scientijica pertracta, Frankfort and Leipsic, 1728 ; Philosophia prima s. onfologia, id., 1730 , Cosmologia general is, id., 1731; Psychologia empirica, id., 1732; Psy- cho/ogia rationalis, id., 1734 ; Theologia iiadiraHs, 1736-37 ; Jus naturce, 1740; Philosophia moralis sice elhica, Halle, 1750; Philosophia civilis sive politica, id., 1746; Jus gentium, 1750; and a large number of treatises in the German language. [See, on Wolff and his school, Zeller, Pie deufsche Philosophic seit Leibniz, 2d ed., Munich, 1875, pp. 172 f£.] LEIBNIZ 369 ics dominated the German schools until the advent of Kantianism.^ 1 The principal disciples of the Leibniz- WolfRan school are : Ludo- vici (Ausjiihrlicher Eutivurf einer vollsldmUgen Historie der icoljjischen Philosophie, o vols., Leipsic, 1736-38) ; Eiliinger (1093-1750), author of numerous and lucid commentaries on the philosophy of Leibniz and Wolff; Thumnnng (^Tmtitiitiones philosophice Wolffiance,etc.')', Baum- garten (1714-1762), who, in his ^sthetica (2 vols., 1750-58), adds the theory of the beautiful in art, or cestJtetics, to the philosophical sciences, etc. Kant himself was a disciple of Wolff before he became his adversary, and the numerous repi-esentatives of the German Au/- 11 a rung, whicli preceded the appearance of the Critiques, were related to WoUf (Reimarus, jMoses Mendelssohn, Lessing, Nicolai, etc.). [See R. Sommer, GrundzUge einer GescJiichte der deuladien Psychologie und A^slhetik, etc., Wiirzburg, 1892, and Dessoir's work, supra, p. 15.] 34 SECOND PERIOD AGE or CRITICISM § 57. John Locke The author of the work criticised by Leibniz, John LoCKE,^ was born at Wrington in Somersetsliire. A fel- low-countryman of Occam and the two Bacons, he shows the anti-mystical and positivistie tendencies common to English philosophj^ The study of medicine revealed to him the barrenness of scholastic learning. What, in his opinion, perpetuated the traditions of a j)Tiori speculation and the ignorance of reality, was the Platonic doctrine of innate metaphysical, moral, and religious truths, teachings which Ralph Cudwoeth^ and Descartes himself had 1 1632-1704. Complete works, London, 1714 ff. ; 9 vols., id., 1853 ; philosophical works, ed. by St. John, 2 vols., London, 1854. Next to his Essay concerning Human Understanding, his most important work is Thoughts on Education, London, 1693; in French, Amster- dam, 1705. [Lord King, Life of Locke, London, 1829 ; H. R. Fox Bourne, The Life of John Locke, 2 vols., London, 1876] ; V. Cousin, La philosophic de Locke, 6th ed., Paris, 1863 ; [A. de Fries, Die Sid)- stanzenlehre John Locke's, etc., Bremen, 1879; Th. Fowler, Locke {Eng- lish Men of Letters), London, 1880; A. C. Fraser, Locke (Blackivood's [Philosophical Classics), Edinbm-gh, 1890; M. M. Curtis, An Outline of Locke's Ethical Philosophy, Leipsic, 1890 ; G. v. Hertling, John Locke und die Schule von Cambridge, Freibm-g i. B., 1892; Marion, J. Locke, Paris, 1893. See also T, H. Green's Introduction to Hume and the works pertaining to both Locke and Leibniz, mentioned under " Leibniz." — Tii.] 2 1617-1688. In his chief work, The True Intellectual System of the Unirerse (London, 1678), he combats the materialistic conclusions JOHN LOCKE 371 undertaken to ti.^fend. The fact is, if truth is native to the mind, it is useless to search for it outside by observation and experimentation. Then we may, by means of a lyriori speculation, meditation, and reasoning, evolve it from our own i^iner consciousness, as the spider spins its web out of itself. This liypothesis Descartes consistently carries out when he " closes his eyes and stops his ears," and abstracts from everything acquired by the senses ; but he ceases to be consistent when he assiduously devotes himself to the study of anatomy and physiology. Indeed, the favorite method of the metaphysics of the monasteries and univer- sities was to close one's eyes, to stop one's ears, and to ignore the real world. This method prevailed as long as the conviction existed that our ideas have their source within us. Hence, it was necessary, in order to make the philosophers " open their eyes to the real world," to prove to them that all our ideas come to us from without, through the medium of sensation : it was necessary to demonstrate that our ideas are not innate but acquired. This Locke undertook to do in his Essay concerning Human Understanding'^ (London, 1690), which, with im- portant additions by the author, was trciiioidud julo French by Goste (1700). This great work marks the beginning of a series of investigations which were complete ^^ by Kant's Critique. Locke's aim is : (1) to discover what is the origin of our ideas ; (2) to show what is the certainty, the evi- dence, and the extent of our knowledge ; (3) to compel of Thomas Hobbes with the system of Christianized Platonism, which also influenced men Hke Malebranche, Leibniz, Bonnet, and Herder. [See C. E. Lowrey, The Philo.^ophj of Ralph Cudworth, New York, 1885.] 1 [Edited, collated, and annotated by A. C. Eraser, 2 vols., New York, 1894 ; J. E. Russel, The Philosophy of Locke in Extracts from the Essay, etc. {Series of Modern Philosophers), New York, 1891. -Tr.] 372 MODERN PHILOSOPHY philosophy to abandon what surpasses human comprehen- / sion hy clearly marking the limits of its caimcity} * We have no innate knowledge : snch is his revolutionary doctrine against idealism. As it is evident that new-born children, idiots, and even the great part of illiterate men, have not the least appre- hension of the axioms alleged to be innate, the advocates of innate ideas are obliged to assume that the mind can have ideas without being conscious of them.^ But to say, a notion is imprinted on the mind, and at the same time to maintain that the mind is ignorant of it, is to make this impression nothing. If these words, to he in the under- standing^ have any positive meaning, they signify to he per- ceived and to he understood hy the ^tnderstandiyig : hence, if any one asserts that a thing is in the understanding, and that it is not understood by the understanding, and tha"^- it is in the mind without being perceived by the mind, it amounts to saying that a thing is and is 7iot in the under-^ standing. The knowledge of some ideas, it is true, is very early in the mind. But if we will observe, we shall find that 1 these kinds of truths are made up of acquired and not of innate truths.^ It is by degrees that we acquire ideas, that we learn the terms which are employed to express them, and that we come to understand their true connec- tion.^ The universal consent of mankind to certain truths does not prove that these are innate ; for nobody knows these truths till he hears them from others. For, if they ^ Essay, Book L, ch. L, Introduction. 2 Thus Leibniz speaks of unconscious perception, and Leibniz is right, notwithstanding the English philosopher's objections. His only mistake consists in his failure to recognize that the unconscious perceptions need some external solicitation in order to become con- scious, which, however, his preconceptions will not allow him to assume. 3 Book L, ch. IL, 5, 15. . 4 M,^ 15. JOHN LOCKE 873 were innate, " wh.it need they be proposed to gain assent?" /. M innate and nnknown truth is a contradiction in terms. The pri^yles of morals are no more innate than the rest, unl^5s,j^ so call the desire for happiness and the aver- sion to ipisery, which are, indeed, innate tendencies, but which are not the expressions of some truth engraven on the understanding.^ In this field universal consent cannot ]r^ invoked in any case; for moral ideas vary from nation to nation, from religion to religion. The keeping of con- tracts, for example, is without dispute one of the most un- deniable duties in morality. But, if you ask a Christian, who believes in rcAvards and punishments after this life, why a man should keep his word, he will give this as a reason : Because God, who has the power of eternal life and death, requires it of us. But if a Hobbist be asked why, he will answer. Because the public requires it, and the Leviathan will punish you if you do not. Finally, a pagan philosopher would have answered that the violation of a promise was dishonest, unworthy of the excellence of man, and contrary to his vocation, which is perfect virtue. The fact is urged against Locke that conscience re- proaches us for the breach of the rules of morality. But conscience is nothing else but our oivn ojnnion of our own actlons^^ and if conscience were a proof of the existence of innate principles, these principles could be contrary to each other, since some persons do, for conscience's sake, what others avoid for the same reason. Do not the savages prac- tise enormities without the slightest remorse ? The break- ing of a moral rule is undoubtedly no argument that it is unknown. But it is impossible to conceive that a whole nation of men should all publicly reject what every one of them certainly and infallibly knew to be a moral law. No practical rule which is anywhere transgressed hy general consent can be regarded as innate. To hold that the prac- 1 c. III., 3. 2 /,/ 8. \ 374 MODERN PHILOSOPHY tical principles are innate is to declare all-mo al education impossible. That does not mean that there are uiiiyjjjositive laAvs. There is a great deal of difference between mt. innate law and a law of nature, between a truth originally imprinted on our minds and a truth which we are ignorant of, but may attain to the knowledge of by the use and due applica- tion of our natural faculties. Furthermore, consider the origin of a host of doctrines which pass as indubitable axioms : though derived from no other source than the su- perstition of a nurse or the authority of an old woman, they often grow up, by length of time and consent of neighbors, to the dignity of principles in religion and morality. The mind of the child receives the impressions which we desire to give it, like white paper on which you write any charac- ters you choose. When children so instructed reach the age of reason and come to reflect on themselves, they can- not find anything more ancient in their minds than those opinions, and therefore imagine that those propositions of ivJiose knowledge they can find in themselves no original, arc the im^jress of God and nature^ and not things taught them hij any one else} Moreover, how can a truth, that is, a proposition, be in- nate, if the ideas which make up that truth are not? In order that a proposition be innate, certain ideas must be innate ; but, excepting perhaps some faint ideas of hunger, Avarmth, and pains, which they may have felt in the mother's womb, there is not the least appearance that new-born children have any settled ideas. Even the idea of God is not innate; for besides the individuals who are called atheists and who are really atheists, there are whole nations who have no notion of God nor any term to express it. Moreover, this notion varies infinitely from coarse antliro- pomorphism to the deism of the philosophers. And even if 1 c. III., 23. JOHN LOCKE 375 it were iiniveisal and everywhere the same, it would not, on that account, be more innate than the idea of fire ; for there is no one who has any idea of God wlio has not also the idea of fire.^ Tlie soul is originally an empty tablet. Experience is the source of all our ideas, the foundation of all our knowledge, that is, the observations which we make al^out external sen- sible objects or about the internal operations of our minds. Sensation is the source of our knowledge of external objects, reflection, of our knowledge of internal facts. There is not in the mind a single idea that is not derived from one or both of these principles. The first ideas of the child come from sensation, and it is only at a more advanced age that he seriously reflects on what takes place within him. The study of languages may be cited in support of this thesis. In fact, all the words which we employ depend on sensible ideas, and those which are made use of to stand for actions and notions quite removed from sense have their rise from thence, and from obvious sensible ideas are transferred to more abstruse significations. Thus, for example, to imagine, apprehend, comprehend, adhere, conceive, instil, disgust, disturbance, tranquillity, etc., are all words taken from the operations of sensible things and applied to certain modes of thinking. Spirit, in its primary signification, is breath ; angel, a messenofer. If we could trace all these words to their sources, we should certainly find in all languages the names which stand for things that fall not under our senses to have had their first rise from sensible ideas.^ FoUow a child from its birth and observe the alterations that time makes, and you shall find, as the mind by the senses comes more and more to be furnished with ideas, it comes to be more and more awake, and thinks more, the more it has matter to think on. Locke answers the question. When do we begin to think ? 1 c. III., 9. 2 B. III., chap. I., 5. 376 MODERN PHILOSOPHY as follows : As soon as sensation f urnislies us witli the ma- terials. We do not think before we have sensations. Nihil est in iiitellectit qiwd non anUa fuerit in sensu. According to the idealist, thought is the essence of the soul, and it is not possible for the soul not to think ; it thinks antecedent to and independently of sensation; it always thinks even though it is not conscious of it. But experience, which alone can settle the question, by no means proves it, and it is not any more necessary for the soul always to think than it is for the body always to niove.^ The absolute continuity of thought is one of those hypotheses which have no fact of experience to bear them out. A man cannot think without perceiving that he thinks. With as much reason might we claim that a man is always hungry, but that he does not always feel it.^ Thought depends entirely on sensation. In its sublimest ideas and in its highest speculations it does not stir beyond those ideas which sense or reflection has offered for its contemplation. In this part the understand- ing is purely passive. The objects of our senses obtrude their particular ideas upon our minds whether we will or not. These simple ideas, when offered to the mind, the understanding can no more refuse to have, nor alter, nor blot them out, than a mirror can refuse, alter, or obliterate the images of the objects placed before it.^ There are two kinds of ideas, some simple and some com'plex. These simple ideas, the materials of all our knowledge, are suggested to the mind only by those two ways above mentioned, viz., sensation and reflection. The mind, though passive in the formation of simple ideas, is active in the formation of complex ideas. It receives the former, it makes the latter. When it has once received the simple ideas it has the power to repeat, compare, and unite them, even to an alm^ost infinite variety, and so can make new complex ideas. But it is not in the power of 1 13. II., chap. I., 10. 2 /^.^ 19. 3 id,^ 25. JOHN LOCKE 377 the most fruitful mind to form a single new simple idea, not taken in by the way of sensation and reflection. The dominion of man, in this little world of his own under- standing, is the same as it is in the great world of visible things, wherein his power, however managed by art and skill, reaches no farther than to compound and divide the materials that are made to his hand ; hut can do nothing towards the making the least iiarticle of new matter^ or destroying one atom of what is already in being .^ The simple ideas come into our minds by one sense only, or by more senses than one, or from reflection only, or, finally, by all the ways of sensation and reflection.^ Among the ideas which come to us only tln^ough one sense (colors, sounds, tastes, smells, etc.), there is none which we receive more constantly than the idea of solidity or impenetrability. We receive this idea from touch. This, of all simple ideas, is the idea most intimately connected with and essential to body. Solidity is neither space — with wliich the Cartesians erroneously identify it — nor hardness. It differs from space as resistance differs from non-resistance. A body is solid in so far as it fills the space which it occupies to the absolute exclusion of every other body ; it is hard, in so far as it does not easily change its figure. It is not properly a definition of solidity that Locke pretends to give us. If Ave ask him to give us a clearer explanation of solidity, he sends us to our senses to inform us. The simple ideas we have are such as experi- ence teaches us ; but if, beyond that, we endeavor to make them clearer in the mind, we shall succeed no better. The ideas which come to the mind by more than one sense (sight and touch) are those of space or extension, figure, rest, and motion. By reflection Ave get the ideas of perception or the poAver of thinking, and the ideas of vol- ition or the power to act. Finally, the ideas of pleasure, 1 B. IL, chap. IL, 2. 2 j^,^ chap. III., 1. 378 MODERN rillLOSOriiY pain, power, existence, and unity come to us by sensation and reflection. Some of the external causes of our sensations are real and positive, others are only privations in the objects from whence our senses derive those ideas, like those, for example, which produce the ideas of cold, darkness, and rest. When the understanding perceives these ideas, it con- siders them as distinct and as positive as the others, with- out taking notice of the causes that produce them, which is an inquiry not belonging to the idea, as it is in the understanding, but to the nature of the things existing without us. Now these are two very different things, and carefully to be distinguished ; we must not think that our ideas are exactly the images and resemblances of something inherent in the object which produces them ; for most of the ideas of sensation luJiich are in oui' minds a.re no more the likeness of som.ething existing ivitlwut us, than the names that stand for them are the likeness of our ideas, although these names are apt to excite ideas in us as soon as we hear them.^ Different things should have different names ; hence, whatsoever the mind perceives in itself, every perception that is in the mind when it thinks, Locke calls idea, and the power or faculty to produce any idea in our mind he calls the qualiti/ of the subject (we should say : of the object). That being established, Locke, like Hobbes, distinguishes two kinds of qualities.''^ Some, such as solidity, extension, 1 B. 11. , chap. VIII., 1 ff. Here we have the fundamental princi- ple of criticism which, as we have seen, was advanced by Aristippus, Pyrrho, ^nesidemns, Hobbes, and Descartes. The eighth chapter of the second book of the Essay, of which the above is a summary, and especially § 7 of this chapter, is the classical expression of the philosophy to which Kant give»s its real name. 2 IcL, 9. JOHN LOCKE 379 figure, and mobility, are inseparable from the body, in what state soever it be : such as it constantly keeps in all the alterations it suffers. These are the original or lyrimary or real qualities of body.^ Others, like colors, sounds, tastes, etc., do not belong to the bodies themselves, and are nothing but the power which they have to produce various sensations in us by their primary qualities, that is, by the bulk, figure, texture, and motion of their insensible parts. Locke calls them secondare/ qualities : qualities^ in order to comply with the common way of speaking, which con- siders white, red, and sweet as something inherent in the bodies ; secondary^ in order to distinguish them from those which are real qualities. ' Whatever reality we may by mistake attribute to them, colors, smells, sounds, and tastes are nothing but sensa- tions produced in us by the primary or real qualities of bodies, — sensations which in no way resemble the qualities which exist in the objects. What is sweet, blue, or warm in idea is nothing but a certain bulk, figure, and motion of the insensible parts in the bodies themselves which we call so. Take away the sensation which we have of these qualities ; let not the eyes see light or colors, nor the ears hear sounds ; let the palate not taste, nor the nose smell ; and all colors, tastes, odors, and sounds will vanish and cease to exist. In the opposite hypothesis, the result will be the same. Suppose man were endowed with senses suf- ficiently fine to discern the small particles of bodies and the real constitution on which their sensible qualities depend, and they will produce in him quite different ideas. The effects of the microscope prove it ; blood, for example, seems quite red to us, but by means of this instrument, which discovers to us its smallest particles, we see nothing but a very small number of red globules ; and we do not know how these red globules would appear if we could 1 B. II., chap. VIII., 9. 380 MODERN PHILOSOPHY find glasses with a magnifying power that is a thousand or ten thousand times greater. The formation of ideas i:>resup230ses the following facul- ties in the understanding : (1) fcrceftion^ which is the first step and degree towards knowledge, and the inlet of all the materials of it; (2) retention^ which keeps the ideas brought into the mind, for some time actually in view (con- templation), and revives again those whicli after imprinting have disappeared from it (memory) ; (3) discernment^ or the faculty of clearly distinguishing between the different ideas; (4) comparison^ which forms that large tribe of ideas com- prehended under relations ; (5) composition^ whereby the mind joins together several simple ideas which it has re- ceived from sensation and reflection, and combines them into complex ones ; finally (6) abstraction} If every particular idea that we take in should have a distinct name, the num- ber of words would be endless. To prevent this, the mind makes the particular ideas received from particular objects, general ; it separates them (ahstrahere) from all the circum- stances which make these ideas represent particular and actually existent beings, as time, place, and other concomi- tant ideas. This operation of the mind is called ahstrac- tio7i. It is the prerogative of the human mind, whereas the preceding faculties are common to man and brutes. The mind is passive in perception proper, but becomec more and more active in the following steps ; comparison, the composition of complex ideas, and abstraction, are the three great acts of tlie mind. But, however active the mind may be in the formation of complex ideas, these are in the last analysis but modes or modifications of the materials which it passively receives from sensation and reflection. Thus the ideas of place, figure, distance, and immensity are modifications or modes of the simple idea of space, which 1 B. II., chaps. IX., ff. JOHN LOCKE 381 is acquired by sight and touch ; the ideas of periods, hours, days, years, time, eternity, are modifications of the idea of duration or succession, which we acquire by observing the constant train of ideas which succeed one another in our minds ; the idea of finite and infinite, modifications of the idea of quantity.^ If it l)e objected that the ideas of infinity, eternity, and immensity cannot have the same source as the others, since the objects Avhich surround us have no affinity nor any pro- portion with an infinite extension or duration, Locke an- swers that tliese ideas are merely negative, that we do not actually have in the mind any positive idea of an infinite space or an endless duration ^ (Aristotle). All our positive ideas are always limited. The negative idea of an infinite space and duration comes from the power which the mind has of extending its ideas of sjDace and duration by an end- less number of new additions. We get the idea of active and passive power (recep- tivity) when we observe, on the one hand, the continual alteration in things, and, on the other, the constant change of our ideas, which is sometimes caused by the impression of outward objects on our senses, and sometimes by the determination of our own will. When we reflect on the poAver which the mind has to command the presence or the absence of any particular idea, or to prefer the motion of any part of the body to its rest, and vice vcrsa^ we acquire the idea of Avill. Will is not opposed to necessity^ but to restraint. Liberty is not an attribute of the will. Will is a power or ability, and free- dom another power or ability; so that to ask a man whether his will be free is to ask Avhether one power has another power, one ability another ability.^ To sj)eak of a free will is like speaking of swift sleep or square virtue. 1 B. II., chaps. XII. if. 2 j^i^ chap. XVIL, 13. 3 Id., chap. XXI. / 882 MODERN PHILOSOPHY We are not free to will. We are not free to will or not to will a thing which is in our power, when once we give our attention to it. The will is determined by the mind,i and the mind is determined by the desire for happiness. On this point Locke, Leibniz, and Spinoza are in perfect accord, and unanimously opposed to Cartesian indeter- minism. The notions which we have just analyzed are combina- tions of simple ideas of the same kind {simple modes). Others, like obligation, friendship, falsehood, and hy})ocrisy, are composed of simple ideas of different kinds (mived modes). Thus, the mixed mode which the word lie stands for is made of these simple ideas : (1) articulate sounds ; (2) certain ideas in the mind of the speaker; (3) words which are the signs of those ideas ; (4) those signs put together by affirmation or negation, otherwise than as the ideas they stand for are in the mind of the speaker. We get the idea of these mixed modes as follows: (1) By experience and observation of things themselves. Thus, by seeing two men wrestle or fence we get the idea of wrestling or fencing. (2) By invention, or voluntary put- ting together of several simple ideas in our own minds : so he that first invented printing or etching had an idea of it in his mind before it ever existed. (3) By explaining the names of actions we never saw, or notions we cannot see. The several fashions, customs, and manners of a nation give rise to several combinations of ideas which are familiar and necessary to that nation, but which another people have never had any occasion to make. Special names come to be annexed to such special combinations of a people, to avoid long periphrases in things of daily con- versation {ostracis7n among the Greeks, proscription among the Romans), and so there are in every language particular terms which cannot be literally translated into any other. 1 B. XL, chap. XXT., 29. JOHN LOCKE 383 So much for the complex ideas that express modes. The complex ideas of suhstances (man, horse, tree) are formed as follows : The mind observes that a certain num- ber of simple ideas, conveyed in by the different senses, con- stantly go together, and accustoms itself to regard such a complication of ideas as one object, and designates it by one name. Hence, a substance is nothing but a combination of a certain number of simple ideas, considered as united in one thing. Thus the substance called sicn is nothing but the aggregate of the ideas of light, lieat, roundness, and con- stant, regular motion. By substance, the philosophy of the School, and afterwards Descartes, imagined an unknown object, which they assumed to be the support (^suhstrahcm) of such qualities as are capable of producing simple ideas in us, which qualities are commonly called accidents. But this substance considered as any thin// else but the com- bination of these qualities, as something hidden behind them, is a mere phantom of the imagination. We have no distinct idea of such a substratum without qualities. If any one should be asked wherein color or weight inheres, " he would have nothing to say, but the solid extended parts ; and if he were demanded what is it that solidity and exten- sion adhere m, he would not be in a much better case than the Indian before mentioned, who, saying that the world was supported by a great elephant, was asked what the ele- phant rested on ; to which his answer Avas, — a great tor- toise ; but being again pressed to know what gave support to the broad-backed tortoise, replied, — something, he knew not what." ^ Our knowledge does not extend beyond the assumed accidents^ that is, beyond our simple ideas, and whenever metaphysics attempts to proceed beyond them it is confronted with insurmountable difficulties. The third class of complex ideas express relation. The most comprehensive relation wherein all things are con- 1 B. XL, chap. XXIIL, 2. 884 MODERN PHILOSOPHY cerned is the relation of cause and effect. We get the idea of this by noticing, by means of the senses, the constant vicissitude of tilings, and by observing that they owe their existence to the action of some other being. Locke does not analyze the idea of cause as thoroughl}^ as his successor Hume. We shall see that the latter regards it as no less illusory than the idea of substance, or substratum. In passing from the study of ideas to the problem of knowledge and certitude, Locke enters upon a philological discussion, which we have partly reproduced above, and which stamps him as one of the founders of the philosophy of lano^uaofe. All tilings that exist are particulars. The far greatest part of words (with the exception of proper names) are general terms ; which has not been the effect of neglect or chance, but of reason and necessity. In what do the species and genera consist, and how^ do they come to be formed ? Oiu" ideas are at first particular. The ideas which the chil- dren have of their nurse and their mother represent only those individuals. The names which they first gave to them are confined to these individuals and designate onl}^ them. Afterwards, when time and a larger acquaintance with the world have made them observe that there are a great many other things that resemble their father and mother and those persons they have been used to, they frame an idea, which they find those many particulars do partake in ; and to that they give, with others, the name man. And thus they come to have a general name, and a general idea ; wherein they make nothing new, but only leave out of the complex idea they had of Peter and James, Mary and Jane, that Avhich is peculiar to each, and retain only what is common to all. In the same way they acquire all general ideas. This process of abstraction and general- ization is a necessity ; for it would be impossible for each thing to have a particular name. It is beyond the power JOHN LOCKE B85 of human capacity to frame and retain distinct ideas of all the particular things we meet with, — of every tree, of every plant, of every beast, that affected the senses. Still less possible would it be to retain their names. But even if it could be done, it would not be of any great use for the im- provement of knowledge ; for although our knowledge is founded on particular observations, it enlarges itself by general views, which can only be formed by reducing the things to certain sjjccics under general names. General notions (icmversalia) are nothing but abstract and partial ideas of more complex ones, taken from particular existences. They are simple products of oar minds. Gen- eral and universal belong not to the real existence of things ; hut are the inventions and creatures of the understanding} It is true that nature, in the production of things, makes several of them alike ; there is nothing more obvious, espe- cially in the races of animals, and all things propagated by seed. But the reduction of these things to species is the workmanship of the understanding. Owing to its lack of a thorough knowledge of nature, the Platonic doctrine, which regarded universals as the ingenerable and incorrupt- ible essences of things, disregarded this fact of experience that all things that exists besides their author, arc liable to change ; thus, that Avhich was grass to-day is to-morrow the flesh of a sheep, and within a few days after becomes part of a man. In the organic world, as elsewhere, the genera, species, essences, and substantial forms, dreamt of by the metaphysicians, far from being things regularly and con- stantly made by nature and having a real existence in things themselves (Aristotle) or apart from them (Plato), " appear, upon a more wary survey, to be nothing else but an artifice of the understanding, for the easier signifying such collections of ideas as it should often have occasion to com- municate by one general term." Notice, moreover, how 1 B. III., chap. III., 11. 25 386 MODERN PHILOSOPHY doubtful is the signification of the word " species," and how difficult it is to define organic beings.^ So uncertain are the boundaries of animal species that none of the definitions of the word " man " which we yet have, nor descriptions of that sort of animal, are so perfect and exact as to satisfy a considerate inquisitive person. ^ We may find that learned men multiply species too much, but we may also hold the opposite. Why, for example, are not a shock and a hound as distinct species as a spaniel and an elephant ? Any one who carefully observes the individuals ranked under one and the same genei'al name can hardly doubt that many of them are as different, one from another, as several of those which are ranked under different specific names.^ We may remark, in passing, that the modern theory of the transmutation of species is nothing but an application of Locke's teaching that species have no objective reality. Let us also note the important fact that this extreme nom- inalism closely approximates extreme realism. Scholastic nominalism denies the reality of species, and absolutely affirms the reality of individuals to the exclusion of every- thing else. In this sense Leibniz is a nominalist. English nominalism, from which the theory of transformation takes its rise, denies not only the existence of species, but also the stability of the individuals themselves. All things, says Locke, besides their author, are liable to change. Now tliis is exactly what Spinoza teaches. He is not content with repudiating universals for the sake of the one universal Being, but considers the individuals themselves as passing modes of what he calls substance, what the materialists call matter, and Locke and the positivists call the great unknown. Hence, species, genera, and universals are mere words (^flatus vocis). The traditional error of the metaphysicians 1 B. III., chap, v., 9. 2 J^l^ chap. VI., 27. ' Id., chap. VI., 38 ; chap. X., 20. JOHN LOCKE 387 consists in taking ivords for things} The disciples of the Peripatetic philosophy are persuaded that the ten categories of Aristotle, substantial forms^ vegetative souls, aWwrrence of a vacuum^ are something real. The Platonists have their soul of the world, and the Epicureans their endeavor to- wards motion in their atoms. All this is gibberish, which, in the weakness of the human understanding, serves to pal- liate our ignorance and cover our errors.^ We must be content ; there are limits to our knowledge that cannot be crossed. Well, then, what is knowledge ? It is nothing but the perception of the connection and agreement, or disagreement and repugnancy, of any of our ideas. From this definition it follows that our knowledge does not reach further than our ideas ; nay, it is even much narrower than these, because the connection between most of our simple ideas is unknown. Hence we may affirm that, although our knowledge may be carried much further than it has hitherto been, it will never reach to all we might de- sire to know concerning those ideas we have, nor be able to resolve all the questions that might arise concerning any of them. Thus, we have the ideas of matter and thinking, but possibly shall never be able to knoiv whether any mere ma- terial thing thinks or no ; it being impossible for us to discover luhether Omnipotency has not given to some systems of matter fitly disposed^ a power to perceive and think? We are per- fectly conscious of the existence of our soul, without know- ing exactly what it is ; and he who will take the trouble to consider freely the difficulties contained in both the spirit- ualistic and the materialistic hypotheses, will scarce find his reason able to determine hirn fixedly for or against the souVs materiality. Just as we are absolutely ignorant whether there is any opposition or connection between extension and thought, matter and perception, so too it is impossible for 1 B. III., chap. X., 14. 2 /J, 8 B. IV., chap. Ill, 6. 388 MODERN PHILOSOPHY US to know anytliing of the union or incompatibility be- tween the secondary qualities of an object (between its color, taste, and smell), on the one hand, and between any secondary quality and .those primary qualities on which it depends, on the other. Though our knowledge does not reach further than our ideas and the perception of their agreement or disagree- ment, and tlwugli lue have no knowledge of wliat the things thcg represent are in themselves^ it does not follow that all our knowledge is illusory and chimerical. We have an intuitive and immediate knowledge of our own existence, even if we are ignorant of the metaphysical essence of the soul. We have a demonstrative knowledge of God, although our understanding cannot comprehend the immensity of his attributes. Finally, we know the other things by sensation. It is true, we do not know them immediately, and consequently our knoAvledge is real only so far as there is a conformity between our ideas and the reality of things. ^ But we are not absolutely without a criterion for knowing whether our ideas agree with tho things themselves. It is certain that our simple ideas cor- respond to external realities ; for since the mind can by no means make them to itself without the intervention of the senses (as witness men born blind), it follows that they are not fictions of the imagination, but the natural and regular productions of things without us, really oj)erating upon us. The reality of external things is further proved by the fact that there is a very great difference between an idea that comes from an actual sensation and one that is revived in memory, and that the pleasure or pain which follows upon an actual sensation does not accompany the return of these ideas when the external objects are absent. Finally, our senses bear witness to the truth of each other's report concerning the existence of sensible things without us. 1 B. ly., chap. IV., 3. JOHN LOCKE 389 He that sees a fire may, if he doubt whether it be anything more than a bare fancy, feel it too, and be convinced by putting his hand in it, which certainly could never be put into such exquisite pain by a bare idea or phantom.^ Let us sum up. Tliere are no innate ideas ; no innate truths, maxims, or principles ; no other sources of knowl- edge but sensation for external things, and reflection for what takes place within us. Consequently, it is impos- sible to know anything outside of what experience, be it external or internal, furnishes us. Philosophy must aban- don the transcendent problems of substance, essence, and the inner constitution of things, as well as all methods except observation, induction, and experience. The soul exists, but we cannot know whether its essence is material or immaterial. The freedom of indifference is denied. God exists, but we know nothing of his nature. Outside of us exist solidity, extension, figure, and motion, as primary qualities, or such as inhere in the bodies them- selves. The substance of bodies is identical with the sum of these qualities. These qualities are distinguished from secondary qualities (colors, sounds, tastes, smells, etc.), which are merely sensations of the soul produced by the primary qualities of bodies, and do not exist as such in tlie objects themselves. Finally, the reality of species is abso- lutely denied. These doctrines are the culmination of the nominalistic movement which was inaugurated by Roscellinus and re- newed by Occam ; they likewise form the beginning of modern scientific philosophy. As the preceding para- graphs show, the teachings of Descartes and Bacon greatly resemble each other in many respects, particularly in the matter of final causes. A no less notcAVorthy fact, one that may serve as an argument against the scepticism which bases itself solely on the constant disagreement among philoso- 1 B. IV., chap. XI., 7. 390 MODERN PHILOSOPHY phers, is the harmony existing between Locke and Spinoza, that is to say, between empiricism and rationalism. Locke agrees with his contemporary at Amsterdam not only in his repudiation of species, but in his denial of the liberty of indifference, and in his view tliat ethics is as susceptible of demonstration as mathematics. The name of the most illustrious scientist of the seven- teenth century is connected with Locke's empiricism sup- plemented by mathematical speculation. I mean Isaac Newton (1642-1727), the founder of celestial mechanics, whose Mathematical Frincijjles of Natural Pliiloso'phy^ is, next to the Celestial Revohitions of Copernicus, the grandest monument of modern science. His calculus of fluxions, which anticipated, or at least was discovered independently of, Leibniz's integral and differential calculus, his analysis of light, and, above all, his theory of universal gravitation, according to which bodies are attracted to each other in direct proportion to their masses and in inverse ratio to the squares of their distances, have exercised an incalculable influence upon what he calls natural philosophy. Locke's philosophy, with its principles of observation and analysis, also formed the nucleus of a distinguished school of English moralists. We might mention the names of: Shaftesbury,^ Clarke,^ Hutcheson,* Ferguson,^ 1 Natnralis philosophice principia jnathem.atica, London, 1687. 2 1671-1713. [Characteristics of Men, Manners, Opinions, and Times, 1711 ; ed. by W. Hatch, 3 vols., London, 1869. See Stephen, Essays on Freethinking and PlainspeaJcing ; G. v. Gizycki, Die Philosophie Shafles- hury's, Leipsic and Heidelberg, 1876; Th. Fowler, Shaftesbury and Hutcheson, London, 1882; Ernest Albee, The Relation of Shaftesbury and Hutcheson to Utilitarianism (Phil. Rev., V., 1). — Til.] 3 1675-1729. Works, 4 folio vols., London, 1738-1742. 4 1694-1747. [Inquiry into the Original of our Ideas of Beauty and Virtue, London, 1725 ff. ; Philosophice moralis institutio, Glasgow, 1745 ; A System of Moral Philosophy, id., 1755. See Fowler and Albee. — Tr.] 6 1724-1816. [Institution of Moral Philosophy, London, 1769 ; tr into German by Garve, Leipsic, 1772. — Tr.] BEKKELEY 391 Adam Smith,^ and many others.'-^ The freethinkers^^ wlio flourished in Great Britain and on the Continent at the end of this period, and the philosophers proper whom we have still to consider, are likewise descendants of Locke. Eng- lish philosophy is, to this day, almost as empirical and pos- itivistic as in the times of Bacon and Locke. We may even claim, in general, that England, though rich in think- ers of the higliest order, has never had but a single school of philosophy, or, rather, tliat it has never had any, for its philosophy is a perpetual protest against Scholasticism. § 58. Berkeley After what has been said of the agreement existing be- tween Locke and Spinoza, it will hardly surprise us to see a disciple of the English philosopher offering the hand of friendship to Leibniz and Malebranche, the champions of intellectualism and innate ideas across the sea. Although 1 1723-1790. [Theory of Moral Sentiments, London, 1759. Cf. Farrer, Adam Smith {English Philosophers Series), London, 1880. — Tr.] Works, 5 vols., Edinhurgh, 1812. 2 [Cumberland, De legibus naturce, London, 1672; Engl.tr. by Jean Maxwell, id., 1727. Cf. Ernest Albee, The Ethical System of Richard Cumberland (Phil. Review, 1895). Joseph Butler, Sermons upon Human Nature, London, 1726. Cf. W. Collins, Butler (Phil. Classics), Edin- burgh and London, 1889. Home, Essays on the Principles of Morality and Natural Religion, 1751. Paley, Principles of Moral and Political Philosophy, London, 1785. J. Bentham, Principles of Morals and Legis- lation, 1789. See Gizycki, Die Ethik Hume's, Breslau, 1878; Mackin- tosh, On the Progress of Ethical Philosophy chiefly during the XVII. and X VIII. Centuries, ed. by W. Whewell, 4th ed., Edinburgh, 1872. — Tk.] 3 [John Toland, Christianity not Mysterious. London, 1696. A. Col- lins, A Discourse of Freethinking, London, 1713. M. Tindal, Christian- ity as Old as the Creation, London, 1730. Thomas Chnbb, A Discourse concerning Reason ivith Regard to Religion, London, 1730. T. Morgan, 2'he Moral Philosopher, London, 1737 ff. Lord Bolingbroke, Works ed. by D. Mollet, 5 vols., 1753-54. Cf. on the deists, V. Lechler, Ge- schichte des englischen Deismus, Stuttgart, 1841; Hunt, History of Re- ligious Thought in England, London, 1871-73; and Leslie Stephen's work cited p. 12, note 11. — Tit.] 392 MODERN PHILOSOPHY Locke and his opponents differ on several essential points, they reach practically the same conclusions concerning the world of sense. Malebranche and Leibniz spiritualize mat- ter; they explain it as a confused idea, and ultimately assume a principle endowed with desire and perception, that is, mind. Locke's criticism, on the other hand, does not wholly reject the material world ; one half of it is re- tained. Extension, form, and motion exist outside of us ; but neither colors, nor sounds, nor tastes, nor smells exist independently of our sensations. Moreover, Locke attacks the traditional notion of substance, or substratum, and de- fines real substance as a combination of qualities. Indeed, he goes so far as to say that the idea of corporeal substance or matter is as remote from our coficeptions aiid apprehen- sions as that of spii'itual substance or spirit ! ^ Llence, all that was needed to arrive at the negation of matter or abso- lute spiritualism was to efface the distinction which he had drawn between primary and secondary qualities, and to call all sensible qualities, without exception, secondary. This is done by Geof.ge Bekkeley, who thus enters upon a course against which Locke had advised in vain. Berkeley was born in Ireland, 1685, of English ancestors, became Bishop of Cloyne, 1734, and died at Oxford, 1753. The following are his most important works : Essay toivards a New Theory of Vision^^ Treatise on the Principles of Human Knoioledge^ Three Dialogues betiveen Hylas and Philonous^^ Alciphron^ or the Minute Philosopher.^ 1 Essay concernhui Human Understanding, II., ch. XXIIL, 5. 2 Dublin, 1709. This remarkable treatise clearly anticipates the modern principles of the physiology of sensation. 3 Dublin, 1710. [Krauth's ed., 1874.] 4 London, 1713. [Calcutta, 1893.] French, Amsterdam, 1750; German, Rostock, 1756. 5 London, 1732 ; French, The Hacjue, 1731 ; German, Lemgo. 1737. The works of G. Berkeley, London, 1781, 1820, 1843, 1871. This last edition, published in 4 vols., by A. Campbell Fraser, is the most com- BERKELEY 393 Locke recognizes, with Descartes iukI Hobbes, that color is nothing apart from the sensation of the person seeing it, that sound exists only for the hearing, that taste and smell are mere sensations, and do not inhere in the things them- selves. But in addition to such secondary qualities, which do not inhere in the objects but in the perceiving subject, he assumes primary qualities existing without the mind and belonging to an unthinking substance: extension, figure, and motion. And that is where he is wrong. Just as color, smell, and taste exist only for the person perceiving them, so extension, form, and motion exist only in a mind that perceives them. Take away the perceiving subject, and you take away the sensible world. Existence consists in per- ceiving or being perceived. That which is not perceived and does not perceive does not exist. The objects do not exist apart from the subjects perceiving them. According to the common view, these objects — houses, mountains, and rivers — have an existence, natural or real, distinct from their being perceived by the understanding, and our ideas of them are copies or resemblances of all these things with- out us. Now, says Berkeley,^ either those external objects or originals of our ideas are perceivable, or they are not perceivable. If they are, then they are ideas (for an idea = something perceived). In tliat case, there is no differ- ence between objects assumed to be without us and our ideas of them ; and " we have gained our point." " If you say they are not, I appeal to any one whether it be sense to assert a color is like something which, is invisible ; hard or soft, like something which is intangible ; and so of the plete. \_Selections from Berkeley, with introduction and notes, by A. Campbell Fraser, 4th ed. (revised), 1891. Cf. T. C. Simon, Universal Inunaterialism, London, 1862 ; Controversy between Ueberweg and Simon, in Fichte's Z.f. Ph., vol. 55, 1869; vol. 57, 1870 ; vol. 59, 1871 ; A. C. Fraser, Berkeley (Philosophical Classics), Edinburgh and Lon- don, 1881. — Tr.] 1 Principles of Human Knowledge, § 8. 394 MODERN PHILOSOPHY rest." Hence, there is no real difference between things and our ideas of them. The words sensible thing and idea are synonymous. Our ideas, or the things which we perceive, are visibly inactive. It is impossible for an idea to do anything, or to be the cause of anything. Hence, spirit or thinking sub- stance alone can be the cause of ideas (sensible things). A spirit is one simple, undivided, active being, — as it per- ceives ideas, it is called the itnderstandiiig^ and as it produces or otherwise operates about them, it is called will. Now all ideas (perceived things) being essentially passive, and spirit eminently active, it follows that we cannot, strictly speaking, have an idea of spirit, will, or soul ; at any rate, we cannot form as clear an idea of it as of a trianpie, for example. Inasmuch as the idea is absolutely passive and spirit the very essence of activity, the idea of spirit is a contradiction in terms, and no more like spirit than night is like the day.^ In so far as mind perceives ideas it produces things ; and these are not two distinct operations : to perceive signifies to produce, and the ideas are the things themselves. Never- theless, the objects which I perceive have not a like de- pendence on my will. Nay, very many of them do not depend on it at all. '' When in broad daylight I open my eyes, it is not in my power to choose whether I shall see or no, or to determine what particular objects shall present themselves to my view." There is therefore — thus Berke- ley proves the existence of God — some other will that 1 Berkeley repeatedly points out the impossibility of forming an adequate idea of spiritual things, such as spirit, soul, or will, and he explains this by the radical difference existing between spirit, the essentially active thing, and idea, the essentially passive thing {Prin- ciples of Human Knowledge, §§ 27, 89, 135). He hkewise insists on the necessity of clearly distinguishing between spirit and idea, thus con- tradicting Spinoza, who regards them as synonyms {id., § 139). BERKELEY 395 produces them, a more powerful spirit that imprints tliem upon us. " NoAV the set rules or established methods wherein the INIind we depend on excites in us the ideas of sense, are called tlie laivs of naUire ; and these we learn by experience. . . . The ideas imprinted on the senses by the Author of natuie are commonly called real things ; and those excited in the imagination being less regular, vivid, and constant, are more pi'operly termed ideas or images of things. The ideas of sense are allowed to have more in them, that is, to be more strong, orderly, and coherent, than the creat- ures of the mind ; but this is no argument that they exist without the mind." To the objection that this makes the sensible world, with its sun, stars, mountains, and riA^ers, a chimera or an illu- sion, Berkeley answers that he does not in the least doubt the existence of things. He is even willing to accept the term corporeal suhstance if we mean by it a combination of sensible qualities, such as extension, solidity, weight, and the like. But he utterly repudiates the scholastic notion which conceives matter as a substratitin or support of acci- dents or qualities without the mind perceiving them, as a stupid^ thoughtless somewhat^ which can neither perceive nor be perceived, existing alongside of, and independent of, the thinking substance.^ The objection that, according to his principles, Ave eat and drink ideas, and are clothed Avith ideas, is not more serious than the preceding one. It over- looks the fact that he employs the word idea^ not in its usual signification, but in the sense of perceived thing. But it is certain that our victuals and our apparel are things Avhich AA' e perceive immediately by our senses, that is, ideas. Finally, it is held that, according to his teaching, the sun, moon, and trees exist only Avhen they are perceived, and are annihilated Avhen aa^c no longer perceive them. They Avould undoubtedly cease to exist if there Avere no one to ^ Principles of Human Knowledge, § 75. 396 MODERN PHILOSOPHY perceive them ; for existence consists in being perceived or in perceiving. But if our mind cannot perceive them, an- other spirit can perceive them or continue their existence, so to speak ; for though Berkeley denies the objective exist- ence of bodies, he assumes a plurality of spiritual beings. It is true, mankind and even philosophers steadfastly assume the existence of matter. The explanation is simple. They are conscious that they are not the authors of their own sensations, and evidently know that they are imprinted from without. They have recourse to the liypothesis of matter as the external origin of their ideas, instead of de- riving them directly from the Creative Spirit which alone can produce them, (1) because they are not aware of the contradiction involved " in supposing things like unto our ideas existing without; (2) because the Supreme Spirit, which excites those ideas in our minds, is not marked out and limited to our vicAv by any particular finite collection of sensible ideas, as human agents are by their size, complex- ion, limbs, and motions ; and (3) because his operations are regular and uniform. Whenever the course of nature is interrupted by a miracle, men are ready to own the presence of a superior agent. But when we see things go on in the ordinary course they do not excite in us any reflection." The negation of matter as a substance without the mind silences a number of difficult and obscure questions : Can a corporeal substance think ? Is matter infinitely divisible ? How does it operate on spirit ? These and the like inquir- ies are entirely banished from philosophy. The division of sciences is simplified, and human knowledge reduced to two great classes : knowledge of ideas and knowledge of spirits. ^ Moreover, this philosophy is alone capable of overcoming scepticism. If we assume, with the ancient schools, that a 1 Principles of Human Knoivledge, § 86. Berkeley afterwards (§ 89) adds a third group of knowledge : that of relations existing either be- tween things or ideas (physical sciences and mathematical sciences). BERKELEY 397 substance exists without the mind, and that our ideas are images of it, then scepticism is inevitable. On that hypoth- esis, we see only the appearances, and not the real qualities of things. What may be the extension, figure, or motion of anything really and absolutel}^ or in itself^ it is impos- sible for us to know ; we know only the relations which things bear to our senses. All we see, hear, and feel is but a phantom. All these doubts are inevitable as soon as we distinguish between ideas and things.^ The absolute spiritualism of Berkeley is a unitary, homo- geneous system, unquestionably superior to the hybrid phi- losophies of Descartes and Wolff. Nay, it is, in my opinion, the only metaphysic that may be successfully opposed to materialism, for it alone takes into consideration the partial truth of its objections.^ It overcomes the dualism of sul> stances, and thus satisfies the most fundamental demand of the philosophical spirit, — the demand for unity. In this respect it has all the advantages of radical materialism without being hampered by its difficulties. It greatly re- sembles the system of Leibniz, but excels it in clearness, consistency, boldness, and decision. Leibniz's opinions on matter, space, and time are undecided, conciliatory, and even obscure. Berkeley shows no sign of hesitation. An earnest and profoundly honest thinker, he tells us, in a straightforward manner, that the existence of matter is an illusion ; that time is nothing, abstracted from the succes- sion of ideas in our minds ; ^ that space cannot exist with- out the mind;* that minds alone exist; and that these 1 Kant's conclusions fully confirm these profound remarks of Berkeley {Principles, §§ 85 if.). It was because the Critique of Pure Reason asserted the dogma combated by the Irish philosopher (tbe thing-in-itself considered as existing independently of the phenomenon) that it became involved in scepticism. 2 Cf. our conclusions in § 71. * Principles, § 98. * M, § 116. 898 MODERN PHILOSOPHY perceive ideas either by themselves or through the action of the all-powerful Spirit on which they depend.^ But besides these advantages, his philosophy also posses- ses disadvantages. We need not rep>eat the petty objection of his supposed adversaries, who make him say that we eat and drink ideas and are clothed with ideas. We may, how- ever, ask. What, on his theory, becomes of the vegetable and animal kingdoms, which the more realistic Leibniz re- gards as having objective existence ? If it be true thaL unperceiving and unperceived things do not exist, what becomes of the soul in deep sleep ? If tlie picture opposite to my bed exists only because I see it, what minds perceive it after I have gone to sleep, and thus hinder it from ceas- ing to exist ? How shall we picture to ourselves a plurality of human individuals, if space exists in the mind only ? How does Berkeley know that there are other minds than his own ? How, moreover, does the creative SjDirit produce sensible ideas in us ? All these points and many others re- main unexplained ; for his deus ex inachina explains nothing, and his theory of intervention is of no more avail than oc- casionalism and pre-established harmony. He is both a thorough-going theologian and a philosopher ; his interests are both scientific and religious, and he attacks materialism ^ not only as a theoretical error but as the source of the most serious heresies.^ 1 Principles, § 155. 2 By materialism Berkeley understands not only the negation of spiritual substance, but the view that there exists, independently of the mind, a substance, or substratum, of sensible qualities, which it per- ceives. To assume the reality of matter is enough to stamp one as a materialist in the Berkeleyan sense. 8 §§ 133 ff. — A system wholly similar to that of Berkeley was taught by his contemporary and colleague, the churchman Arthur Collier (1680-1732), a disciple of Malebranche and author of Clavis universalis. or a New Inquiry after Truth, Being a Demonstration of the Non-existence or Impossibility of an External World, London, 1713. [See G. Lyon, Un idealiste Anglais au XV III". siMe {Revue phil. vol. 10, 1880). — Tr.] CONDILLAC 399 § 59. Condillac The philosophy of Locke was introduced into France by Voltaire.^ Here it found an original follower in the al)Lot Etienne Bonnot de Condillac,^ the founder of absolute sensationalism. Locke distinguishes two sources of ideas : sensation and reflection, while Condillac, in his TraiU dcs sensations rec- ognizes but one, making reflection a product of sensibility. His proof is ingenious. He imagines a statue, which is organized and alive, like ourselves, but hindered by its marble exterior from having sensations. Its intellectual and moral life advances as the various parts of this covering are removed. Let us first remove the marble covering its olfactory organs. Now the statue has only the sense of smell, and cannot, as yet, perceive any tiling but odors. It cannot acquire any idea of extension, form, sound, or color. A 1 1694-1778. Lettres sur les Anglais, 1728; Mlemenls de la pJiiloso- phie de Neivton, mis a la portee de tout le monde, Amsterdam, 1738 : La metapliysique de Newton ou paraUele des sentiments de Newton et de Leib- niz, Amsterdam, 1740 ; Candide ou sur V optimisme, 11 ol ; Le pJiilosopJie ignorant, 1767. Simultaneously with these writings of Voltaire, the Entretiens sur la pluralite des mondes of Fontenelle (1657-1757), and the works of Maupertuis (1698-1759) made known to the French the labors of Copernicus and Xewton, which were continued by Lagrange and Laplace (page 11). [On eighteenth century philosophy in France see Damiron, M^moires pour servir a Vhistoire de la philosophie au XVIIL siecle, 3 vols., Paris, 1858-64 ; and Bartholmess (p. 12). On Voltaire see the works of Bersot, Strauss, John Morley, Desnoiresterres, and Mayr. — Tr.] 2 Born at Grenoble, 1715; tutor of the Prince of Parma; abbot of Mureaux; died 1780. Besides the Traite des sensations (1754), he pro- duced the following works : Essai sur Vorigine des connaissances humaines (1746); Traite des systhnes (174:9)', Traite des animaux, 17 5o ; Logique (posthumous, 1781) ; Langue des animaux (posthumous). Complete works, Paris, 1798 ; 1803, 32 vols, in 12mo. F. Rethor^, Condillac ou Vempirisme et le rationalisme, Paris, 1864. 400 MODERN PHILOSOPHY rose is placed before it. From the impression produced "by it, a sensation of smell arises. Henceforth it is, from our point of view, a statue that smells a rose ; in reality, how- ever, it is nothing but the odor of this flower. The statue does not and cannot, as yet, possess the slightest notion of an ohjed ; it does not know itself as the subject of sensa- tion; its consciousness, its ''me,*' is nothing but the scent of the rose, or rather, what wc call the scent of the rose. Since this impression and the resulting sensation is the only thing with which our statue is occupied, that single sensation becomes attention. We take away the rose. Our statue retains a trace, or an echo, as it were, of the odor perceived. This trace or echo is memory. We place a violet, a jasmine, and some asafffitida before tlie statue. Its lirst sensation, the odor of the rose, was neither agreeable nor disagreeable, there being nothing to compare it Avith. But now other impressions and other •sensations arise. These it compares with its memory images. It finds some agreeable, others disagreeable. Henceforth the statue desires the former, and rejects the latter. Towards these it entertains feelings of aversion, hatred, and fear, towards those, feelings of sympathy, affec- tion, and hope. That is to say, from the sensations experi- enced by it, and their comparison, arise the passions, desires, and Tolitions. I icill signifies / desire. The will is not a new faculty added to sensibility ; it is a transformation ot sensation ; sensation becomes desire and impulse after having been attention, memory, comparison, pleasure, and pain. From comparison, that is, from the multiplication of sensations, arise, on the other hand, judgment, reflection, reasoning, abstraction, in a word, the under stetndlng. Our statue perceives disagreeable odors, and at the same time recalls other odors which gave it pleasure ; these past sen- CONDILLAC 401 sations reappear in opposition to the present sensation, not as immediate sensations, but as copies or images of these sensations, that is, as ideas. It directs the attention to two different ideas and compares them. When there is double attention, there is com2:)arison ; for to be attentive to two ideas, and to compare tliem, is the same thing. Now, the statue cannot compare two ideas without perceiving some difference or resemblance between tliem : to perceive such rehitions is to judge. The acts of comparison and judgment are therefore merely attention ; it is thus that sensation be- comes successively attention, comparison, and judgment. Some odors, that is, some of the states experienced by the statue, yielded pleasure, others yielded pain. Hence it will retain in memory the ideas of pleasure and pain common to several states or sensations. Pleasure is a quality common to the rose-sensation, the violet-sensation, and the jasmine- sensation ; pain is a quality common to the odor of asa- foetida, decaying matter, etc. These common characteristics are distinguished, separated, ahstracted^ from the particular sensations with which they are associated, and thus arise the abstract notions of pleasure, pain, number, duration, etc. These are general ideas, being common to several states or modes of being of the statue. We do not need a S]3ecial faculty to explain them. Abstraction itself, the highest function of the understanding, is a modification of sensa- tion, which, consequently, embraces all the faculties of the soul. The i'iiner perceiJtion, or the me, is merely the sum of the sensatio7is loe noiv have, and those ivhieh we have had. Condillac endows his statue with a single sense, — the sense of smell, — and then evolves all mental faculties out of sensation.^ ^i^y one of the five senses would have served his purpose equally well. ^ Condillac's object in choosing the least important of the five senses is plain. If the sense of smell suffices to make a complete soul, then, a fortiori, the combination of all five senses, or the total sensibility, will suffice. 26 402 MODERN PHILOSOPHY If now, we join to smell : taste, hearing, and sight, by taking away one marble covering after another, then tastes, sounds, and colors will be added to the odors perceived by the statue, and its intellectual life Avill become so much richer, more manifold, and complex. There is, however, an essential idea which neither smell, nor taste, nor hearing, nor even sights can yield, and that is the idea of an ohjcct^ the idea of an external world. Colors, sounds, odors, and tastes are mere sensations or states, not, as yet, referred to external ol)jects. Before external causes can be substituted for its sensations, the statue must be en- dowed with the most important of all senses : the sense of touch. Toucli alone can reveal to us the objective world, by giving us the ideas of extension, form, solidity, and body. Even sight cannot suggest them. Persons born blind can- not, upon receiving their sight, distinguish between a ball and a block, a cube and a sphere, until they touch these objects.^ Only after having touched things do Ave refer the impressions received by our other senses, such as colors, sounds, tastes, and smells, to objects existing outside of us. Hence, toucli is the highest sense, and the guide of the other senses ; it is touch which teaches the eye to distribute colors in nature. Conclusion and summary : All our ideas, without excep- tion, are derived from the senses, and especially from toucli. Though Condillac is a sensationalist, and a sensationalist in the strict sense of the term, he is not, on that account, a materialist.^ He differs from Locke, who grants that mat- 1 Allusion to Cheselden's celebrated operation. 2 Sensationalism is usually, but erroneously, confused with materi- alism. Sensationalism is a theory concerning the origin of our ideas, an explanation of the phenomenon of mind {eine Erkenntnisstheorie, as the Germans would say), while materialism is an ontology, a system of metaphysics. Sensationalism and materialism are undoubtedly closely related, for materialism is necessarily sensational. But the reverse is not true. CONDILLAC 403 ter can think, and agrees with the Cartesians that com- pounds cannot think, and consequently that the subject of sensation cannot be corporeal in its nature. The move- ments of the body are, according to him, merely occasional causes of mental phenomena. Moreover, it is not certain that the body is an extended substance, as Descartes claims. But even if tliere tvere no real extension^ that would not he a sufficient reason for denying the existence of bodies. Hence the negation of extension as such does not, according to Condillac, involve the acceptance of the immaterialism of Berkeley. He agrees with Leibniz that bodies might really exist and yet not be extended in themselves, that their es- sence might consist of something other than extension, and that this might be merely a subjective phenomenon, or a mode of perceiving them. At all events, there is something other than ourselves ; that cannot be doubted. But what may be the nature of this " other thing," the statue does not know, nor do we know. That is, Condillac, the consistent disciple of Locke, is a sceptic in metaphysics, but his scep- ticism does not, as we have just seen, call in question the existence of matter, nor, consequently, materialism, using the term in the Berkeleyan sense. If to assume the reality of matter is to be a materialist, then, of course, he is a ma- terialist. But in that case, Descartes is also a materialist. Moreover, he too, like Descartes, curries favor with the Church, which, in his capacity as a priest, he dare not openly antagonize. True, the human soul is merely the recipient of sense-impressions, and devoid of all faculties of knowledge except sensation ; it is nothing but a prolonged and infinitely modified sensation. But that does not mean, he intimates, that it has always been restricted to sensation as the source of truth : its present nature dates from the Fall. Perhaps it was endowed with a higher faculty before the Fall. All we can say is that this is no longer the case. It is hard to take these restrictions of the abbe of Mu- reaux seriouslv. 404 MODERN PHILOSOPHY § 60. Progress of Materialism i The empirical school's contempt for metaphysics refers only to the clualistic metaphysics, and not to the system of Hobbes, Gassendi, and Democritus. Philosophy gradually abandoned dualism. It might have adopted the immateri- alism of Berkeley and Collier ; but this hypothesis, though satisfying the monistic instinct, had against it the evidence of facts and the native realism of the French and English minds. Hence, jjhilosophy continued, in spite of Berkeley, to concede frimary qualities to bodies. True, tastes, smells, colors, sounds, and temperature are nothing but sensations of the subject which perceives them, and do not exist, as such, in the things themselves and outside of us. But ex- tension, impenetrability, figure, motion, etc., are primary qualities, i. e., inherent in a reality external to and inde- pendent of our perception, and of these qualities bodies, or matter, are composed. Hence, the latter has objective real- ity, and does not owe its existence to our sensation, i. e., to the mind, as Berkeley claimed. The belief in the objective and absolute existence of bodies persisted. Hobbes's assertion that all suhstances are bodies, and the hypothesis of Locke, according to which matter can think, seemed less presumptuous when Leibniz, repudiating the Cartesian teaching, substituted for extended matter, matter endowed with force,^ a kind of intermediate reality, or connecting link between brutal matter and pure spirit. This conception made it possible for one to assume a real and physical action of body on mind, without fear of materializing spirit. Experience, moreover, on whose ter- ritory the new philosophy had firmly established itself for all time to come, advanced the cause of materialism by its ^ See Damiron, Mernoh-es pow servir a lliistoire de la philosophie an dix-huitieme siecle, §§ 8 ff. '-^ Cf. pp. 346 f. PROCxRESS OF MATERIALISM 405 emphatic declaration that body acts on mind, and that tlie mental world depends on tlie physical world. John Toland (1070-1721), a fellow-countryman of Berkeley, whose genius, character, and fate remind one of Bruno and Vanini, becomes the champion of materialism in his Letters to Serena ^ and his Pcmtheisticon (1710). Matter is not, according to liim, the " extended substance " of Des- cartes, an inert, lifeless mass that receives its motion from a transcendent deity ; it is an active substance, that is, force. Extension, impenetrability, and action are three distinct notions, but not three different things; they are simply three different modes of conceiving one and the same mat- ter.2 Matter is originally and necessarily active, and hence does not receive its motion from without; motion is its essential and inseparable property, — as essential and in- separable as extension and impenetrability. Since matter as sucli is force, motion, and life, we do not need either a soul of the world, in order to explain universal life, or an individual soul as the source of psj^chical life and the vital pi'inciple of the organic body. The hylozoistic and vital- istic hypothesis is based on the erroneous conception that matter is inert, that it is merely the theatre and the means, and never the source, of action. The abandonment of this false view will result in the collapse of the dualistic theory. Body ceases to be a substance that cannot think, and soul or mind is simply one of its functions. Furthermore, thought does not belong to substance in general, as Spinoza assumes ; ^ matter, though active, is unconscious in itself, and becomes 1 Letters to Serena (Serena is Queen Sophia Charlotte of Prussia, the friend of Leibniz, at whose court Toland lived from 1701-1702), followed by a Refutation of Spinoza, and a treatise on movement as the essential property of matter (London, 1704). [Cf. G. Berthold, John Toland und der Monismus der Gegemvart, Heidelberg, 1876 ] 2 Letters to Serena, pp. 230 ff. 3 Deus est res cogitans (Eth., II., Prop. 2). 406 MODERN PHILOSOPHY conscious only in the brain (a view already held by Uemo- critus). There can be no thought without a brain ; thought is the function of this organ, as taste is a function of the tongue} Less bold in form but the same in substance are the con- clusions of the Observations on Man^ the work of the phy- sician and naturalist David Hartley (1704-1757). There can be no thought without a brain. The brain is not the thinking subject,* the soul is the thinking subject. But though the soul is entirely distinct from the body, it cannot be regarded as essentially different from corporeal substance. The action of the brain on thought is established by the facts, and proves conclusively that matter and mind differ in degree and not in essence, for there can be no reciprocal action between two essentially different substances. Tlie so-called material world represents an ascending scale of substances, or rather forces ; these become more and more refined and spiritualized, as we pass from mineral masses to light. The distance from the stone to the luminous agent is so great that one is tempted to oppose the latter to the former as spiritual substances are opposed to material substances. And yet no serious thinker would dream of removing optical phenomena from the domain of physics. The infinitely subtile, refined, and intangible substance called light is none the less matter. Why, then, should we yiot assume that the above-mentioned series continues be- yond ether, and finally ends in thought or soul ? This mental agent is so far removed from light, in fineness and mobility, as the latter is from the stone and wood, without on that account ceasing to he matter. ^ Pantheistic on, p. 15. 2 Observations on Man, his Frame, his Duty, and his Expectations, London, 1749; 6th ed., 1834. [Cf. G. S. Bower, Hartley and James Mill (Engl. Philosophers), London, 1881 ; B. Schoenlank, Hartley iind Priestley, die Begrilnder des Associationismus in England, Halle, 1882. -Tk.} PROGRESS OF MATERIALISM 407 The white medullary substance of the brain and the spinal marrow constitute the seat of sensation and the source of voluntary motion. Every modification of this substance is accompanied by a corresponding modification in our soul- life. The modifications of the cerebral and nervous sub- stance, corresponding to those of the soul, are vibrations or '' tremblings " produced by external excitations and trans- mitted tlu-ough the sensory nerves to the central portion of the brain. The nervous substance, which may be perceived by our senses and expeiimented on, most probably contains an infinitely subtile and mobile fluid, which might be iden- tified with electricity ^ and ether. The vibrations of tliis fluid or ether cause sensations. When these vibrations are reproduced a certain number of times, they leave traces ; these traces are our ideas. Our soul-life depends entirely on the association of these ideas, which, in turn, depends on the association of sensations, i. e., vibrations of ether or nervous fluid. True, these vibrations are not, as yet, sen- sations ; they affect the body, and sensations affect the soul ; they belong to the domain of physiology, and sensations belong to the domain of psychology. But the fact that the latter are effects of the former conclusively proves that cor- poreal substance is analogous, if not identical, with think- ing substance. Joseph Priestley (1733-1804), theologian, philosopher, and naturalist, to whom we are indebted for the discovery of oxygen,^ considers, in his Disquisitions relating to Matter and Spirit ^^ the proofs of his predecessors, ancient as well ^ As has been done, in our century, by the Berlin scientist, E. du Bois-Reymond, 2 Thus named by Lavoisier, who recognized it as one of the essen- tial elements of atmospheric air. ^ London, 1777. [The Doctrine of PJiHosophical Necessity, London, 1777 ; Free Discussions of the Doctrines of Materialism, London, 1778. -Tr.] 408 MODERN PHILOSOPHY as modern, in favor of tlie materiality of the soul, and adds some arguments of his own : 1. If the soul is an inextended substance, it does not really exist in space ; for to be in space is to occupy a por- tion of it, be it never so small. Hence the soul is not in the body : such is the absurd conclusion which Cartesian spiritualism compels us to draw. 2. Principia non sunt multiplicanda prcctcr necessitatem. Now, there is no need of assuming for thought a new and essentially different principle from the principles by which science explains the phenomena of light, electricity, etc., which show striking similarities with psychical phenomena. 3. The development of the soul runs parallel with that of the body, on which it wholly depends. 4. There is not a single idea of which the mind is pos- sessed but what may be proved to have come to it from the bodily senses, or to have been consequent upon the percep- tions of sense. 5. Our ideas of external objects, — the idea of a tree, for example, — consist of parts, like their objects. How is it possible that such ideas should exist in an indivisible and absolutely simple soul ? 6. The soul ripens and declines. How can an absolutely simple being without parts be increased, modified, or dimin- ished ? 7. If man has an immaterial soul, every animal, which feels, perceives, remembers, combines, and judges, must have one also. 8. What is the use of the body, and why is the soul as- sociated with it, if it can feel, think, and act independently of it? 9. Spiritualism claims that an extended being cannot think. But is it not still more inconceivable that an inex- tended entity — a simple mathematical point — should contain an infinite number of ideas, feelings, and volitions, PROGRESS OF MATERIALISM 409 as the human soul does ? The soul is a reality no less manifold than the universe which it reflects. 10. The will is determined by motives, reasons, and argu- ments. Hence, spiritualism objects, if the soul is material, matter is moved by motives, reasons, and arguments. But the matter which materialism invests Avith tlie faculty of thinking is not the gross and inert mass Avhich it is at first supposed to be ; it is the ether, that mysterious agent Avhich we knoAV only by its manifestations, but Avhich we assume to be the basis of intellectual phenomena as well as of extension, impenetrability, and movement. Besides, it may be said, in answer to the spiritualists, that if the theory of " matter influenced by motives " is objectionable to them, their "simple substance influenced by an extended sub- stance " (in sensation and perception) is no less objection- able to the materialistic thinker. 11. If the soul, says spiritualism, is comj)osed of parts, atoms (or, as Ave should say noAvadays, of living cells of gray cortical substance), hoAV can it be felt as a unity? HoAv does it become conscious of the 7)ig ? ^ This feeling, this perception of the unity Avhich is called the ego^ is con- ceivable only in a real individual, in a unity, monad, or atom, and not in a siwi of monads, atoms, or individuals, not in the Avhole nervous system. For a sum or Avhole is merely an idea, a mental being ; its parts alone have real existence (nominalism). Hence these (the monads, atoms, or individuals making up the nervous system) can feel themselves, each for itself and separately, as unities or I's ; but the nervous system, the Avhole, cannot, for the Avhole is not an individual, an objective and existing reality. This, as Priestley himself confesses,^ is the strongest, and, in fact, 1 In a word : How can the one arise from the many ? 2 [I cannot find anything in the Disquisitions to proA^e this state- ment. What Priestley does say is this : " This argument has been much hackneyed, and much confided in by metaphysicians ; but, for my part, I cannot percei\^e the least force in it." (p. 118.) — Tu.] 410 MODERN PHILOSOPHY the only serious argument that spiritualism can oj^pose.^ How can the one arise from the many? He declares that he cannot explain the difficulty, but that, if it really is a difficulty, it exists for spiritualism as well. Psychological consciousness is nothing but plurality reduced to unity, or unity derived from plurality, or, in a word, the synthesis of the one and the many, i. e., an inexplicable mystery. Spiritualism is as unable to tell how a multitude of ideas, feelings, and volitions can constitute the unity of self, as materialism is powerless to explain how a multitude of atoms can form a unity. Hence, spiritualism has no ad- vantage over its adversary in this respect. 12. It is objected that the soul wars against the body, that it is possessed of a self-moving power, while the body needs a foreign mechanical impulse, that tlie body alone be- comes weary and never the soul ; finally, that, if the human soul is material, God himself ceases to be a pure spirit. Priestley replies that there are also conflicts between the different tendencies of the soul, and yet that spiritualism does not dream of referring each of these tendencies to a principle or a different substance ; that the body is not in- ert, as was believed before the days of Leibniz, and that no substance is without force ; that thought fags and exhausts the brain, which is refreshed in sleep ; finally, that we cannot extend our reasonings concerning finite beings to the infin- ite, but that the " materiality " of God is more consistent with the dogma of omnipresence than the opposite view. Priestley appeals to the Bible, and believes that his sys- tem can be reconciled with Christianity and even with Calvinism.2 French materialism, however, does not share 1 Albert Lange shares this view. In his History of Materialising he holds that the above argument hits the weak spot in materialism. 2 There is, indeed, a connecting link between Priestley's system and the reformed dogma : we mean their common opposition to inde- terminism. Tndeterministic and Pelagian Catholicism offers material- ism no such support. PROGRESS OF MATERIALISM 411 these illusions. In the Testament de Jean 3fesl{e?\^ which Voltaire made public, we find the bold utterances of To- land repeated. The same may be said of the writings of the physician, Julien Offroy de la Mettrie 2 (1709- 1751), who was one of the first outspoken materialists in France. Curiously enough, this leader of the opponents of spiritualism is a discijjle, not of Toland, but of the man whom French spiritualism recognizes as its head : Des- cartes. We must remember that Descartes was not onl}^ the author of the Meditations and the dualistic hypothesis, but that he wrote the Treatise on the Passions of the Soul, and founded the modern mechanical theory. Descartes not only proved the existence of God and the spirituality of the soul,3 1)^^^ q\^q showed " how all the limhs can he moved by the objects of the senses and by the spirits without the AID OF THE SOUL;"* that it resides in the pineal gland; that memory presupposes cerebral impressions ; that animals are machines ; that the intellectual phenomena which we discover in them can and must be mechanically explained. The advance from the animal-machine of Descartes to the homme-machinc is slight; and La Mettrie makes it. If the animal can feel, perceive, remember, compare, and judge, Avithout the aid of an immaterial soul, simj)ly by means of its nervous and cerebral organization, there is no reason why we should concede a soul to man, whose sensi- bility, will, and understanding are merely more highly 1 A cure of fitrepigny in Champagne, died 1733. Testament de J. Meslier, published in 3 vols., with a preface and a biographical introduction, by R. Charles, Amsterdam, 1865. 2 Ilistoire naturelle de Vame, The Hague (Paris), 1745; UHomme- machlne, Lej^den, 1718 ; L' Ilomme-plante, Paris, 1718. Works of La ^lettrie, London (Berlin), 1751. [Cf. Lange, History of Materialism.'] 3 These "errors" are, in La Mettrie's opinion, nothing but "a trick to make the theologians swallow the poison of mechanism. The animal-machine is Descartes's grandest discovery." * Passions de Vdme, L, Art. IG. 412 MODERN PHILOSOPHY developed animal functions. Man is not an exception ; lie does not form a separate and privileged caste in universal nature. The laws of nature are the same for all. There can be no difference in this respect between men, brutes, plants, and animals. Man is a machine, but a more com- plicated machine than the animal : '' he is to the ape or the most intelligent animals, what Huyghens's planetary pen- dulum is to a watch made by Julien Leroy.'' This developed animal did not fall from the clouds, nor did it arise, ready-made, from the bowels of the earth. It is not the work of a supernatural creator, the realization of an idea : it owes its origin to a natural evolution Avhich gradually evolves more and more perfect forms from the elementary organisms. The human species is no more a separate creation than the other animal and vegetable spe- cies ; its present form has been evolved from lower animal forms, slowly and by progressive stages. The evolutionistic and transformistic conception, familiar to ancient philoso- phy,^ reappears, in various forms, but wholly conscious of its aims, in the PensScs siir V interpretation de la nature of Denis Diderot,^ in the work, De la natiire^ of Robinet,^ in the Palingenesie philosophique of Charles de Bonnet,^ 1 We found it in Anaximander, Empedocles, Anaxagoras, and Democritus. 2 Born at Paris, 1713; died 1784. The founder of the Encyclo- pe'die (Dictionnah'e raisonne des arts, des sciences el des metiers. Par une societe de gens de lettres, mis en ordre et jmhlie par M. Diderot ., Paris, 1751-1763). His most important philosophical writings are; Pensees sur V interpretation de la nature, Paris, 1754 ; Reve de D^ Alemberl ; Lettre sur les aveugles ; Elements de physiologie. M. Assezat has edited the Complete Works of Diderot from the original editions. He includes what has been published at different periods, and the unpublished manuscripts preserved in the Hermitage library (Paris, 1875). [On Diderot see the works of K. Rosenkranz (1866) and John Morley (1878, 1886).] 3 1723- 1789. De la nature, 4 vols. 8vo, Amsterdam, 1763-6«. ^ A Genevan, 1720-1793. La palingenesie philosophique on ide'es sur Vetat passe et sur Vetat futur des etres vivants, Geneva, 1769. PROGRESS OF MATERIALISM 413 precursors of Lamarck and Darwin. According to Diderot, the entire universe is an endless fermentation, a ceaseless interchange of substances, a perpetual circulation of life. Nothing lasts, everything changes, — species as well as individuals. Animals have not always been what they are now. In the animal and vegetable kingdoms, individuals arise, grow, decline, and die. Can we not say the same for entire species ? Now, there is an affinity, and pei'haps identity, between kingdoms, just as between species. Thus, who can ever exactly determine the boundaries between plants and animals? Plants and animals are defined in the same way. We speak of three kingdoms, but why should not one emanate from the other, and why should not the animal and vegetable kingdoms emanate from uni- versal heterogeneous matter ? The evolution is wholly me- chanical. Nature, with its five or six essential properties, such as potential and active force, length, breadth, depth, impenetrability, and sensibility, which exists potentially in the inert molecule, and matter, suffices to explain the world. We should not search for designs {intentions) where there are only accidental facts. The spiritualists say : Look at man, that living proof of final causes ! What do they mean ? The real man or the ideal man ? Surely not the real man, for there is not a perfectly constituted, perfectly sound man on the entire surface of the earth. The human species consists of an aggregation of more or less deformed and unhealthy individuals. Now, why should that make us sound the praises of the alleged creator ? Praises, indeed ! We have nothing but apologies to offer for him. And there is not a single animal, a single plant, a single mineral, of which we cannot say what has just been said of man. Of what use are the phalanges in the cloven foot of the hog? Of what use are the mammae in males? The act- ual world is as a day-fly to the millions of real or possible worlds of the past and future; it is what the insect of 414 MODERN PHILOSOPHY Hypanis is to man, who sees it live and die in the passing of a day. The day of a world lasts a little longer, that is all. These conceptions of the world and man are shared by Helv^tius,! who, like Thomas Hobbes and Mandeville,^ considers egoism and self-interest as the trne and sole mo- tive of our acts ; by the mathematician D'Alembert,^ whose philosophy reveals a delicate tinge of scepticism, which distinguishes it favorably from its environment, and brings it nearer to criticism; by the political economists TuRGOT * and Condorcet,^ who construct a positive phi- losophy of histor}^, based on the necessity of human actions and the law of continued progress ; by the Baron d'HoL- BACH,^ whose Systhne de la nature^ published at London, 1770, under the pseudonym of Mirabaud, is a complete the- ory of ontological and psychological materialism. Matter and motion : these two words sum up everything. Matter and motion are eternal. The universe is neither governed by a God nor by chance, but by immutable and necessary laws. These laws do not depend on a personal power capa- ble of modifying them ; nor do they form a brutal necessitj , a Fate hovering above things, a j^oke imposed upon them ^ Claude Adrien, 1715-1771. De Fespjit, Paris, 1758 (anonymous) ; De rhomme, de ses faculles et de son education, London (Amsterdam), 1772 (anonymous) ; Les proyt'h de la raison dans la recherche de la verite, London, 1775. Complete works, Amsterdam, 1776 ; Zwei- briicken, 1784 ; Paris, 1794 ; 1796 (this last edition in 10 vols., 12°). 2 Bernard de Mandeville, 1670-1733. The Fahle of the Bees, or Private Vices made Public Benefits, London, 1714, 1719. ^ 1717-1783. Author of the masterly Discours preliminaire of the Encyclopedia, which he helped to found. Melanges de Jittcrature, d^his- toire et de philosophie, 5 vols., Paris, 1752. * Discours sur les progres de V esprit humain, etc. [Complete woi'ks by Dupont de Nemours, 4 vols., Paris, 1808-1811.] ^ Esquisse d^un tableau historique des progres de V esprit humain (post- humous work), 1794. 6 1723-1789. PROGRESS OF MATERIALISM 415 from without : they are merely the properties of things, the expression of their innermost nature. The universe is neither an absolute monarchy It la Duns Scotus, nor a con- stitutional monarchy tY la Leibniz, but a republic. Theism is the sworn enemy of science. Pantheism is merely a shamefaced theism, or atheism in disguise. The mechani- cal tlieory sufficiently explains all things. There is no finality in nature. Eyes were not made /or seeing, nor feet for walking, but seeing and walking are the effects of a certain arrangement of atoms, which, if different, Avould produce different phenomena. There is no soul apart from nervous substance. Thought is a function of the brain. Matter alone is immortal ; individuals are not. The free- will of the indeterminists is a denial of the universal order. There are not two separate realms and two series of laws, — physical laws and moral laws, — but one undivided and indivisible universe, subject, in all its parts and at all peri- ods, to the same necessity. Finally, on the eve of the Revolution, the physician Ca- BANis (1757-1808), in his Considerations gener ales sur T etude de Vhomnie et sur les rappiorts de son organisation pliysicpiie avec ses facultes intellectnelles et morales^^ formulated the principles of psychological materialism with such frankness and vigor as have never been excelled. Body and mind are not only most intimately connected ; they are one and the same thing. The soul is body endowed with feeling. The body or matter thinks, feels, and wills. Physiology and psychology are one and the same science. Man is simply a bundle of nerves. Thought is the function of tlie brain, as digestion is the function of the stomach, and the secretion of bile the function of the liver. The impressions reaching the brain cause it to act, just as the food introduced into the stomach sets that organ in motion. It is the business 1 In the Memoires de Vlnstitut, years IV. and VI. (179G and 1798) : reprinted, Paris, 1802. 416 MODERN PHILOSOPHY of the brain to produce an image of each particuhir impres- sion, to arrange these images, and to compare them with each other for the sake of forming judgments and ideas, as it is the function of the stomach to react upon food in order to digest it. Intellectual and moral phenomena are, like all others^ necessary consequences of the properties of matter and the laws which govern beingsJ On this latter point, philosophers^ be they conservative or radical, dogmatic or sceptical, jurists and litter atenrs^ natu- ralists and physicians, agree. By subjecting the Deity him- self to laws, Montesquieu simply denies God as an absolute personal power. His God is the nature of things^ in which are grounded the necessary relations which we call laws.^ Voltaire is a deist, but he assumes, with Locke, that mat- ter can think. ^ J.J. Rousseau is a spiritualist in his Avay, but nature^ which we have abandoned and to which we must return^ is his God also.* The pioneers of German litera- ture, Lessing, Herder, and Goethe, combine with the highest idealism the same naturalistic and monistic, if not material- istic, tendency. What united these different thinkers was their outspoken or secret opposition to Cartesian dualism, which set up a separate order of things, called free spirit- ual substances, not subject to the laws of nature, a kind of caste or privileged aristocracy. Equality before the law 1 Closely related to the system of Cabanis is the intellectual or cerebral physiology (known by the name oi phrenology) of Gall, Spurz- heim and Broussais. 2 De Vesjyrit des lois. I., ch. I. : Les lois, dans la signification la plus e'tendue, sont les rapports necessaires qui deriveni de la nature des cJioses ; et, dans ce sens, tous les etres ont lews lois : la divinite a ses lois, etc. 3 See page 399, note 1. * 1712-1778. Discours sur Vorigine et les fondements de Vinegalite parmi les hommes, Paris, 1753 ; Le contrat social, 1762 ; Emile ou de Veducation, 1762. lOEuvres, Paris, 1764; 1818-20; 1868. L. Moreau, J. J. Rousseau et le siecle philosopliique, Paris^ 1870; John Morley, Rousseau, 2 vols., London, 1873. — Tr.] «. D^vVID HUME 417 of nature, and (in view of the failure of sense-perception and speculation to establish the freedom of indifference) determinism for all^ without excepting even the Supreme Being : these were the watchwords of the philosophers un- til they became the watchwords of the Revolution in 1789. § 61. David Hume 1 "There are no bodies," the idealists dogmatically de- clared; "there is no spiritual substance," was the equally dogmatic assertion of the materialists. The Scotchman, David Hume (1711-1776), an acute thinker and classi- 1 [Treatise on Human Nature,^ vols., London, 1739-1740; ed. by Selby-Bigge, Clarendon Press, 1888. Hume afterwcards worked over the three books of the Treatise, and published them under the follow- ing titles: An Enquiry concerning Human Understanding, 1748; A Dissertation on the Passions; and An Enquiry concerning the Principles of Morals, 1751. The first and last of these works, reprinted from the posthumous edition of 1777, have been edited, with introduction, etc.,' by J. A. Selby-Bigge, Oxford, 1894. Essays, Moral, Political, and Literary, 1741. The Natural History of Religion, 1755. All of the above-mentioned works, except the Treatise, were published under the title, Essays and Treatises on Several Subjects, London, 1770. The best edition of this collection (with introduction and notes), by T. H. Green and T. H. Grose, 2 vols., London, 1875, new ed., 1889. The Dialogues concerning Natural Religion aj^peared after Hume's death. These, together with the Treatise, are published, with introduction and notes, by T. H. Green and T. H. Grose, 2 vols., London, 1874, new ed., 1889. The Autobiography was published by Adam Smith, London, 1777. The essays on Suicide and the Immortality of the Soul appeared 1783. Selections from the Treatise (B. L), by H. A. Aiken, in Series of Modern Philosophers, New York, 1893; from Hume's ethical writ- ings, by J. H. Hyslop, in the Ethical Series, Boston, 1893. Works on Hume : F. Jodl, Leben und Philosophie David Hume's, Halle, 1872 ; E. Pfleiderer, Empirismus und Skepsis in D. H.'s Phil., Berlin, 1874 ; Meinong, Hume- Stud ieji, 2 vols., Vienna, 1877, 1882 ; G. v. Gizycki, Die EthiJc D. H.'s, Breslau, 1878; T. Huxlejr, ifume, London, 1879 ; W. Knight, Hume (Philosophical Classics), London, 188G ; Litroduction to ed. of Hume's works by T. H. Green. — Tr ] 27 418 MODERN PHILOSOPHY cal historian of England,^ opposes to each of these schools the doubts of Protagoras and Locke : Can the human mind solve the ontological problem ? Is metaphysics, considered as the science of the immanent essence and primary causes of things, possible? In his Essays^ which are inimitable masterpieces of acumen and clearness, modern philosophy enters upon the path marked out by English empiricism. The human mind begins to reflect upon its resources with a view to ascertaining the pre-conditions of knowledge, the origin of metaphysical ideas, and the limits of its capacity. Philosophy becomes decidedly critical and positivistic. For the old metaphysics, i. e., the alleged science of the essence of things, " that abstruse philosophy and mdaphysi- cal jargon^ which^ hemg mixed up ivith popular superstition, renders it in a manner impenetrable to careless reasoners, and gives it the- air of science and wisdom,'^ ^ we must, according to Hume, substitute criticism. In other words, we must inquire seriously into the nature of human understanding., and show, from an exact analysis of its powers and capa- city, that it is by no means fitted for such remote and abstruse subjects as traditional metaphysics busies itself with. We must submit to this fatigue, in order to live at ease ever after; and must cioltivate true metaphysics with some care., in order to destroy the false and adulterate. Though criticism is more modest in its pretensions than ontology, it is no inconsiderable part of science to know 1 History of England from the Invasion of Julius Ccesar, etc., 6 vols., London, 1754-1763. Hume's historical work made a greater impres- sion on his age than his philosophical works. He himself was espe- cially proud of his achievements as a historian (see Letters of David Hume to William Strahan. Now first edited by G. Birkbeck Hill, Oxford, 1888). Our age, however, has reversed this opinion. Hume, the spiritual father of Kant, now takes precedence over Hume, the rival of Robertson and Gibbon. 2 An Enquiry concerning Human Understanding, sect. I. [Green's edition of Hume]. DAVID HUME 419 the different operations of the mind, to separate them from each other, to class them under their proper heads, and to correct all that seeming disorder in which they lie involved, when made the object of reflection and inquiry. This science has the immense advantage over metaphysics of being certain. Nor can there remain any suspicion that this science is uncertain and chimerical ; unless we should entertain such a scepticism as is entirely sichversive of all speculation, and even action} To throw up all at once all pretensions of this kind may justly he deemed more rash, pre- cipitate, and dogmatical than even the boldest and most affir- mative philosophy P" We esteem it worthy of the labor of a philosopher to give us a true system of the planets, and adjust the position and order of those remote bodies. How much more highly should we value those who, with so much success, delineate the parts of the mind, in which we are so intimately concerned ! We have succeeded in deter- mining the laws by which the revolutions of the planets are governed. And there is no reason to despair of equal success in our inquiries concerning the mental powers and economy. All we have to do is to enter upon the enter- prise with thorough care and attention.^ Hume loves to call himself a sceptic, and he is a sceptic as regards dogmatic metaphysics. But from the above explicit statements and many other like assertions, it would seem that his philosophy is nothing but criticism. It is not his purpose to renounce philosophy or even meta- physics, but to give it a different direction and a different object, to turn it from fruitless speculation, and to estab- lish it on the firm and certain foundation of experience.* Had Hume been an absolute sceptic he could never have produced an Immanuel Kant. Now, whatever difference '^ An Enquiry concerning Human Understanding, sect. I., p. 10. 2 Id., p. 12. 8 Id. 4 Id., sect. XII., part III., p. 133. 420 MODERN PHILOSOPHY there ma,y be between the results of these two thinkers, one thing is certain : The spirit of their theoretical philos- ophy, the fundamental conception of their investigations, and the goal at which they aim, are perfectly identical. Theirs is tlie critical spirit, and positive knowledge the goal at which they aim. To claim for Kant the sole honor of having founded criticism is an error which a closer study of British philosophy tends to refute. The following is the substance of Hume's inquiries con- cernino' human understandiuQf : — All our perceptions may be divided into two classes ; ideas or thougJits and impressions. Ideas are the less lively perceptions, of which we are conscious when we reflect on our sensations. By the term " impression " Hume means all our more lively perceptions, when we hear, or see, or feel, or love, or hate, or desire, or w^ill.^ Nothing, at first view, he says, seems more unbounded than thought ; but a nearer examination shows tliat it is really confined within very narrow limits, and that it amounts to no more than the faculty of compounding, transposing, augmenting, or diminishing the materials afforded us by the senses and experience. All the materials of our thinking are derived either from our outward or inward sentiment; the Tnixture aMd composition of these belongs alone to the mind and will? Or, in other terms, all our ideas or more feeble perceptions arc cojjies of our impressions or inore lively ones. Even the idea of God arises from reflecting on the operations of our own mind, and augmenting, without limit, those qualities of goodness and wisdom which we observe in ourselves. "^ An Enquiry concerning Human Understanding, sect. TI., p. 14. 2 Id., p. 14. We have here, word for word, the teaching of Kant, who, however, adds that this mixture and composition depends on a priori forms, inherent in the mind. Hume also assumes that it depends on principles; but, absolute sensationalist that he is, derives the principles themselves from sensation, experience, and habit. DAVID HUME 421 We may prosecute this inquiry to what length we please; we shall always find that every idea which we examine is copied from a similar impression. A blind man can form no notion of colors ; a deaf man of sounds.^ Moreover, all ideas, compared to sensations, are naturally faint and obscure.2 After having proved that all our ideas are derived from sensation, Hume shows that they succeed each other in a certain order, and that there is a certain connection be- tween them. This order and this connection presuppose certain principles of connection, according to which our thoughts succeed each other. They are : BesemUaiicc, con- thjuitij in time or place, and causality. The question here presents itself : Are these principles, especially causality, the most important of all notions, a priori^ innate, anterior to all impressions, as idealism claims, or are they ideas in the sense which sensationalism attaches to the term, i. e., faint sensations, copies of similar impressions ? Kant answers the first question in the affirmative ; Hume, the latter. He devotes all the efforts of his criticism to the notion of causality, force, power, or necessary connection, and the explanation of its origin. This idea, like all others, arises from sensation. Experience teaches us that one billiard-ball communicates motion to another upon impulse, and that the latter moves in a certain direction. We have no a priori knowledge either of the movement or of the direction of the movement. Between what we call the cause and what we call the effect there is no necessary connection that could ever be discovered a priori. The effect is totally different from the cause, and consequently can never be discovered in it. The mind can never pos- sibly find the effect in the supposed cause, by the most accurate scrutiny and examination ; and wherever experi- '^ An Enquiry concerning Human Understanding, sect. II., p. 15 2 Id., p. IG. 422 MODERN PHILOSOPHY ence shows us that a particular effect succeeds a particular cause, there are always many other effects which, to reason, must seem fully as consistent and natural.^ In vain, there- fore, should we pretend to determine any single event, or infer any cause or effect, without the assistance of obser- vation and experience. In a word, the idea of cause is no exception to the rule a,ccording to which all our ideas arise from sensation. It remains to be seen how it is derived, what is the impression from which it comes? Let us first observe — and here the sensationalistic ex- planation strikes a difficulty which Hume fully appreciated — let us observe that what we call power, force, energy, or necessary connection can never be perceived. One object follows another in an uninterrupted succession ; that is all we see ; but the power or force which actuates the whole machine is entirely concealed from us. We know that, in fact, heat is a constant attendant of flame ; but what is the connection between them we cannot conjecture or even imagine. Since external objects give us no such idea, let us see whether this idea be derived from reflection on the operations of our own minds. It may be said that we are every moment conscious of internal power ; while we feel that, by the simple command of our will, we can move the organs of our body, or direct the faculties of our mind. But the influence of volition over the organs of the body is a fact which, like all other natural events, can be known only by experience. The motion of our body follows upon the command of our will. Of this we are every moment conscious. But the means by which this is effected; of this we are so far from being conscious that it must for- ever escape our most diligent inquiry .^ A man suddenly struck Avith a palsy in the leg or arm, or who had newly ^ An Enquiry concerning Human Understanding, sect. IV., p. 27. 2 Id., sect. VII., pp. 54 f. DAVID HUME 423 lost those members, frequently endeavors, at first, to move them, and employ them in their usual offices. Here he is as much conscious of power to command such limbs as a man in perfect health. But consciousness never deceives. Consequently, neither in the one case nor in the other, are we ever conscious of any 2^)0 wer. We learn the influence of our will from experience alone. And experience only teaches us how one event constantly follows another, with- out instructing us in the secret connection which binds them together and renders them inseparable. The idea which we are examining is not derived from any consciousness within ourselves. Nor do Ave get it through the senses. Then how does it originate ? As we can have no idea of anything which never appeared to our outward sense or inward sentiment, the necessary conclu- sion seems to be that we have no idea of power or connec- tion at all, and that these words are absolutely without meaning, when employed either in philosophical reason- ings or common life. But there still remains one method of avoiding this con- clusion ; it is to explain the idea of cause by custom or habit. We are accustomed to seeing certain events in constant conjunction. When any natural object or event is presented, it is impossible for us, by any sagacity or penetration, to discover or even conjecture, without experience, what event will result from it, or to carry our foresight beyond that object which is immediately present to the memory and senses. But when one particular species of event has al- ways, in all instances, been conjoined with another, we make no longer any scruple of foretelling one upon the appearance of the other.^ We observe, for example, that there is a constant connection between heat and flame, be- tween solidity and weight, and we are accustomed to infer the existence of one from the existence of the other. We ^ An Enquiry concerning Human Understanding, sect. VIL, p. 62. 424 MODERN PHILOSOPHY then call the one object, caitse^ the other, effect. We sup- pose that there is some connection between them, some power in the one by which it infallibly produces the other, and operates with the greatest certainty and strongest necessit}^ Hence the idea of cause does not arise from any single impression, from the perception of a particular object ; it springs from our habit of seeing several impressions and several objects follow each other in regular order. This connection, therefore, which we feel in the mind, this cus- tomary transition of the imagination from one object to its usual attendant, is the sentiment or impression from which we form the idea of power or necessary connection. To recapitulate : Every idea is copied from some preced- ing impression or sentiment ; and where we cannot find any impression, we may be certain that there is no idea. In all single instances of the operation of bodies or minds, there is nothing that produces any impression, nor conse- quently can suggest, any idea of power or necessary con- nection. But when many uniform instances appear, and the same object is always followed by the same event, we then begin to entertain the notion of cause and connection. We then feel a new sentiment or impression, to wit, a cus- tomary connection in the thought or imagination between one object and its usual attendant ; and this sentiment is the original of that idea which we seek for. Hume, whose criticism aims to overthrow the principle of causality on the ground that it is neither an a priori pos- session, nor derived from any particular experience, is nev- ertheless a thorough-going determinist in morals and in history. Indeed, he is, with Hobbes and Spinoza, one of the founders of positive historical science, which is based on the principle of necessary human action. " It is universally acknowledged," he says,^ '' that there is a great uniformity 1 An Enquiry concerning Human Understanding, sect. VIII., p. 68. DAVID HUME 425 among the actions of men, in all nations and ages, and that human nature remains still the same, in its principles and operations. The same motives always produce the same actions; the same events follow from the same causes. Ambition, avarice, self-love, vanity, friendship, generosity, public spirit ; these passions, mixed in various degrees, and distributed through society, have been, from the beginning of the world, and still are, the source of all the actions and enterprises which have ever been observed among mankind. Would you know the sentiments, inclinations, and course of life of the Greeks and Romans ? Study well the temper and actions of the French and English ; you cannot be much mistaken in transferring to the former most of the obser- vations which you have made with regard to the latter. Mankind are so much the same, in all times and places, that history informs us of nothing new or strange in this particular. Its chief use is only to discover the constant and luiivcrsal lorinciplcs of human nature.^'' " Were there no uniformity in human actions, and were every experiment which we could form of this kind irregu- lar and anomalous, it were impossible to collect any general observations concerning mankind. . . . The vulgar, Avho take things according to their first appearance, attribute the uncertainty of events to such an uncertainty in the causes as inakes the latter often fail of their usual opera- tion, though they meet with no impediment in their opera- tion. But philosophers, observing that almost in every part of nature, there is contained a vast variety of springs and principles, which are hid by their minuteness or remoteness, find that it is at least possible the contrariety of events may not proceed from any contingency in the cause, but from the secret operation of contrary causes. Tliis possibility is converted into certainty by farther observation, when they remark that, upon an exact scrutiny, a contrariety of effects always betrays a contrariety of causes, and proceeds from 426 MODERN PHILOSOPHY their mutual opposition. A peasant can give no better reason for the stopping of any clock or watch than to say that it does not commonly go right, but an artist easily perceives that the same force in the spring or pendulum has always the same influence on the wheels, but fails of its usual effect, perhaps by reason of a grain of dust, which puts a stop to the whole movement. From the observation of several parallel instances, philosophers form a maxim that the connection between all causes and effects is equally necessary^ and that its seeming uncertainty in some instances proceeds from the secret opposition of contrary causes^ The human will is governed by laws which are no less steady than those which govern the winds, rain, and clouds (Spi- noza) ; the conjunction between motives and voluntary actions is as regular and uniform as that between the cause and effect in any part of nature.^ This truth has been universally acknowledged among mankind ; it is the source of all the inferences which we form concerning human actions, the basis of all our infer- ences concerning the future. Physical necessity and moral necessity are two different names, but their nature is the same. Natural evidence and moral evidence are derived from the same principle. In spite of the reluctance which men have to acknowledge the doctrine of necessity in words, they all tacitly profess it. "Necessity, according to the sense in which it is here taken, has never yet been rejected, nor can ever, I think, be rejected by any philoso- pher. . . . By liberty, then, we can only mean a power of acting or not acting, according to the determinations of the will (Locke). ... It is universally allowed that nothing exists without a cause of its existence, and that chance, when strictly examined, is a mere negative word, but it is pretended that some causes are necessary, some not neces- sary. Here then is the advantage of definitions. Let any 1 An Enquiry concerning Human Understanding, sect. VIIL, pp. 71 f. DAYIU HUME 427 one define a cause, Avithout comprehending, as a part of the definition, a necessary connection with its effect. Whoever attempts to do that Avill be obliged either to employ unin- telligible terms, or such as are synonymous to the term which he endeavors to define, and if the definition above mentioned be admitted, liberty when opposed to necessity, not to constraint, is the same thing with chance, which is universally allowed to have no existence." Experience refutes the dualism of will and physical agencies ; it also destroys the dualism of reason and in- stinct. Animals, as well as men, learn many things from experience, and infer that the same events will always fol- low the same causes. By this principle they become acquainted with the more obvious properties of external objects, and gradually, from their birth, treasure up a knowledge of the nature of fire, water, earth, stones, heights, depths, etc., and of the effects which result from their operation. The ignorance and inexperience of the young are here plainly distinguishable from the cunning and sagacity of the old, who have learned, from long observa- tion, to avoid what hurt them, and to pursue what gave ease or pleasure. A horse that has been accustomed to the field becomes acquainted with the proper height which he can leap, and will never attempt what ex- ceeds liis force and ability. An old greyhound will trust the more fatiguing part of the chase to the younger, and will place himself so as to meet the hare in her doubles ; nor are the conjectures which he forms on this occasion founded in anything hut his observation and experience. An- imals, therefore, are not guided in these inferences by reasoning, neither are children, neither are the generality of mankind, in their ordinary actions and conclusions ; neither are the philosophers themselves. Animals un- doubtedly owe a large part of their knowledge to what we call instinct. But the ex2Jerimental reasoning itself^ which 428 MODERN PHILOSOPHY we possess in common with beasts, is nothing hut a species of instinct or mechanical power that acts in us unknown to ourselves} The universal propensity to form an idea of God, if not an original instinct, is at least '' a general attendant of human nature." ^ Tliis proposition contains the gist of Hume's theology. He is an outspoken opponent of all positive religions, and finds it hard to regard them as *' anything but sick men's dreams," or '' the playsome whimsies of monkeys in human shape." ^ The doctrine of immortality is " a riddle, an enigma, an inexplicable mys- tery." He opposes the following arguments to miracles : There is not to be found in all history any miracle attested by a sufficient number of men, of such unquestioned good sense, education, and learning, as to secure us against all delusion in themselves ; of such undoubted integrity, as to place them beyond all suspicion of any design to deceive others ; of such credit and rej^utation in the eyes of man- kind, as to have a great deal to lose in case of their being detected in any falsehood ; and at the same time attesting facts performed in such a public manner, and in so cele- brated a part of the world, as to render the detection unavoidable. The passion of surprise and wonder gives a sensible tendency towards the belief of those events from which it is derived. Supernatural relations abound among ignorant and barbarous nations ; or if a civilized people has ever given admission to any of them, that people will be found to have received them from ignorant and bar- barous ancestors, who transmitted them with that invio- lable sanction and authority which always attend received opinions. It is a general maxim that no testimony is suf- ficient to establish a miracle, unless the testimony be of ^ An Enquiry concerning Human Understanding, sect. IX., pp. 85 ff 2 The Natural History of Religion^ sect. XV., p. 362. 8 Id., p. 362. DAVID HUME 429 such a kind that its falsehood woukl be more miraculous than the fact which it endeavors to establish.^ Although Hume's conclusions in theology, as well as in ethics and psychology, wholly agree, on the one hand, with the doctrines of the rationalist Spinoza, and on the other, with those of the French materialists, the Scotch philoso- j^her nevertheless maintains to the end his scepticism, as he loves to call it, or criticism, or positivism, as we designate it nowadays, in order to distinguish it from the scepticism of the ancients. True scepticism, as he conceives it, does not consist in perpetually doubting all things, but in lim- iting "our enquiries to such subjects as are best adapted to the narrow capacity of human understanding.^ . . . This narrow limitation, indeed, of our enquiries, is, in every respect, so reasonable, that it suffices to make the slightest examination into the natural powers of the human mind, and to compare them with their objects, in order to recommend it to us." ^ The most salient feature of this scepticism, as compared either with metaphysical dogmatism, or the naive object- ivism of common-sense^ is that it distinguishes between things as they are and tilings as they appear to us. With- out any reasoning, says Hume,* we always suppose an external universe, which depends not on our perception, but would exist, though we and every sensible creature were absent or annihilated. This very table, which we see white, and which we feel hard, is believed to exist, independent of our perception, and to be something exter- nal to our mind, which perceives it. Our presence bestows not being on it; our absence does not annihilate it. It preserves its existence uniform and entire, independent of the situation of intelligent beings, who perceive or con- template it. But this universal and primary opinion of 1 Essay concerning Human Understanding, sect. X., p. 94. 2 Id., XII., p. 133. 8 Id. * Id., p. 124. 430 MODERN rniLOSOPHY all men is soon destroyed by the slightest philosophy. And no man who reflects ever doubted that the exist- ences which we consider, when we say, this house and that trce^ are nothing but perceptions in the mind, and fleeting copies or representations of other existences which remain uniform and independent. Even the primary qualities of extension and solidity are perceptions of the mind. — (Berkeley.) Are these perceptions produced by external objects re- sembling them? Here experience, which alone can answer this question of fact, is and must be entirely silent. Do external objects at least exist ? Experience is equally silent on this point. However, to doubt the existence of bodies is an excessive scepticism, which action and employ- ment, and the common occupations of life, subvert. This excessive scepticism, or Pyrrhonism, true scepticism rejects as barren.^ Every time it attempts to reappear, nature puts it to flight. Nevertheless, the existence of bodies, being a matter of fact, is incapable of demonstration. The only objects of real knowledge and demonstration are quau' tity and number. Experience decides concerning all mat- ters of fact and existence, and experience never goes beyond probability .^ — (Carneades.) Hume's teachings were violently opposed, in the name of common-sense and morality, by Thomas Reid,^ the founder of the so-called Scottish school, and by his disciples, ^ Essay concerning Human Understanding^ p. 130. 2 In excluding physics from the sphere of pure knowledge, the idealist Plato advances the same opinion. ' 1710-1796. Professor at Glasgow. Inquiry into the Human Mind on the Principles of Common-sense, London, 1764 ff. [Selections from the Inquiry by E. Sneath in Series of Modern Philosophers, New York, 1892. Essays on the Intellectual Powers of Man, 1785; Essays on the Active Poioers of Man, 1788. Complete works, ed. by W. Hamilton, Pxlinbrn-gh, 1827 ff. On the Scotch School see James McCosh, The Scottish Philosophy, London, 1875 ; New York, 1890. ~ Tr.]. DAVID HUME 431 Oswald,^ Beattie,^ and Dugald Stewart.^ All of these men were psychologists of merit, but, with the exception of Reid, mediocre metaphj-sicians.^ In order to refute Hume it was necessary to put oneself in his position, — the critical position, — to use his own weapons, to renew the inquiry into the human understanding, and, if possible, to make it more thorough and complete. Kant, the most illustrious continuer and the most acute critic of the Scotch philosopher, saw that very clearly. " Common-sense," he says, ^' is a precious gift of God. But we must prove it by its acts, by deliberate and rational thought and speech, and not appeal to it as to an oracle, whenever reasons fail us. It is one of the subtle devices of our times to appeal to common-sense when our knowledge gives out, and the shallowest fool con- fidently measures his strength with the profoundest think- er's. . . . And what is this appeal to common-sense but a bid for the applause of the rabble, which cannot but bring the blush to the cheek of the philosopher ? I cannot help ^ Appeal to Common Sense in Behalf of Religion, Edinburgh, 1766. 2 1735-1803. Professor at Edinburgh. Essay on the Nature and ImmntahiUtij of Truth in Opposition to Sophistry and Scepticism., Edin- burgh, 1770 ; Theory of Language, London, 1778 ; Elements of the Science of Morals, 1790-1793. 3 1753-1828. Elements of the Philosophy of the Human Mind, 3 vols., London, 1792-1827 ; Outlines of Moral Philosophy, 1793 [ed. with critical notes by J. McCosh, London, 1803. Collected works, ed. by W. Ham- ilton, 10 vols., Edinburgh, 1854-1858. Thomas Brown (1778-1820), a pupil of Stewart, approximates Hume {Inquiry into the Relation of Cause and Effect, Edinb., 1803 ff.) — Tr.]. ^ In the philosophy of William Hamilton (1788-1856), the Scottish school, following the example of the Academy, culminates in scepti- cism, which it had undertaken to combat in David Hume. Sir W. Ham- ilton was noted for his Discussions on Philosophy and Literature, London and Edinburgh, 1852; 3d ed., 1866; Lectures on Metaphysics, 2d ed., 1860, and on Logic, 2d ed., 1866. See J. Stuart Mill, Examination of Sir Williajn Hamilton's Philosophy, London, 1865; 5th ed., 1878; [Yeitch, Hamilton (Philosophical Classics)']. 432 MODERN PHILOSOPHY thinking that Hume had as much good sense as Beattie." Reason can be corrected by reason alone. ^ It is true, Hume's philosophy was not unassailable. There were breaks in his criticism ; difficulties were eluded rather than solved. If experience is the sole source of knowl- edge, whence arises the exceptional character of absolute certainty which Hume himself concedes to mathematics ? If there is nothing in the intellect which was not previously in the senses, how shall we explain the ideas of cause, necessary connection, and necessity? As was seen, the Scotch criticist explains the idea of necessary connection by the principle of habit. After the constant conjunction of two objects, we are determined by custom alone to expect the one from the appearance of the otlier. But this explan- ation does not suffice. The idea of necessity cannot come from experience alone, for the widest experience supplies us only with a limited number of cases ; it never tells us what happens in all cases^ and consequently does not yield necessary truth. Besides, it is not true that the notion of causality is that of necessary contiguity in time.^ Causality signifies connection, and therefore contains an element not ^ Prolegomena zn eine?' Jedeji liinftigen Metnphysik, Preface, vol. III. (Rosenkranz), p. 8. 2 What succession, as Thomas Reid aptly remarks, is older and more regularly observed than that of day and night ? Now, it never occurs to any one to consider night as an effect of day, and day as the cause of night. Moreover, there is this peculiarity about the truths of experience that the certainty we get from them is susceptible of in- crease and diminution. After a second successful test, the physician is more convinced of ilie virtue of his medicine than after the first, and so on, until a long line of authentic cases changes into certainty what was at first a mere presumption and surmise. The case is quite different with a truth like the following : Nothing happens without a cause. The child, whose experience has just begun, believes in it with the same instinctive force as the adult and the old man, and experi- ences multiplied by the myriads can neither increase nor diminish its certainty. DAVID HUME 433 included in the notion of contiguity. Now, Hume expressly states that one event follows a/iother, but that we can never observe any tie betiveen them. They seem conjoined^ but never connected,^ Hence, if experience never shows us a cause., but only a succession of events (for that is what Hume means by the ill-chosen term conju7iction, wliich is synony- mous with connection)^ must we not either negate the idea of causation, or infer a different origin for it ? At this point Hume's criticism is corrected and com- pleted by that of Kant.^ "^ Ati Enquiry concerning Human Understanding^ sec. VIL, p. 62. 2 [Before the advent of Kant's criticism, German philosophy was dominated by the Leibnizo-Wolffian school (see pp. 368 f .), which cul- minated in a form of eclecticism similar to the English common-sense philosophy. J. H. Lambert (1728-1777), one of Kant's correspondents, attempts to reconcile Wolff and Locke, German metaphysics and Eng- lish empiricism (Kosmologiscke Briefe, Augsburg, 1761) ; N. Tetens (1736-1805), who influenced Kant, aims to reconcile the rationalistic and sensationalistic psychology ( Versuch iiber die menschliche Natur, 1776) ; M. Knutzen (died 1751), Kant's teacher, endeavors to reconcile Wolffian metaphysics, Newton's natural philosophy, and orthodox theology. Other representatives of this eclectic movement are the so- called popular jjhilosophers, whose chief aim is to popularize philosophy : Moses Mendelssohn (1729-1786 ; complete works, 7 vols., Leipsic, 1843-44) ; C. Garve (1742-1798), the translator of Ferguson's and A. Smith's writings; J. ,J. Engel (1741-1802 ; Der Pldlosoph fur die Welt, 1775-77); T. Abbt (1738-1766; Vom Tode furs Vaterland, Berlin, 1761) ; Ernst Platner (1744-1818 ; PhilosopMsche Apliorismen, 1776) ; F. Nicolai (1733-1811). To the Aufklarung also belong the deist n. S. Reimarus (1694-1765; Ahliandlungen von den vorneTimsten WaJir- heiten der naturlichen Religion, Hamburg, 1754, 6th ed., 1794; and the poet G. E. Lessing (1729-1781). — Tr.] 434 MODERN PHILOSOPHY § 62. Kanti Immantjel Kant,2 born in Konigsberg, Prussia, 1724, was the son of plain people. His paternal grandparents emigrated to Germany from the fatherland of Hume. After pursuing his studies at the University of his native 1 [For the period beginning with Kant see, besides the general and modern histories of philosophy, the works of Chalybseus, Biedermann, Michelet, Willm, Fortlage, Harms, Zeller, Seth, Royce, etc., mentioned on j)p- 12-15 ; also O. Liebmann, Kant und die Epigonen^ Stuttgart, 1865. — Tr.] 2 Kant's complete works, published by : G. Hartenstein, 10 vols., Leipsic, 1838-39; new edition, 8 vols., Leipsic, 1867-69; Rosenkranz and Schubert, 12 vols., Leipsic, 1838-42 ; [with notes in Kirchmann's Philosophische Bibliothek, Heidelberg, 1880 ff. The three Critiques and several other works, ed. by K. Kehrbach, in Reclam's Universal-Bib- liothek, Leipsic. A new edition is being prepared by the Berlin Academy of Sciences. B. Erdmann has published Reflexionen Kant's zur Iritisclien Philowphie in 2 vols., Leipsic, 1882-84 ; R. Reicke, Lose Blatter aus Kant's NacUass, Konigsberg, 1889, 1895]. Charles Yillers, Philosophie de Kant, Metz, 1801 ; Amant Saintes, Histoire de la vie et de la philosophie de Kant, Paris, 1844 ; V. Cousin, Lemons sur Kant, Paris, 1842, 4th ed., 1864 [Engl. tr. by A. Henderson, London, 1870] ; Emile Saisset, Le scepticisme, Enesidhne, Pascal, Kant, Paris, 1865 ; D. Nolen, La critique de Kant et la metaphysiqne de Leibniz, Paris, 1875; M. Desdouits, La philosophie de Kant d'apres les trois critiques, Paris, 1876 ; [F. Paulsen, Versuch einer Entwickelungsgeschichte der kantischen Erkenntnisstheorie,'LeYpsic,lS7o; A. Riehl, Der philosophische Kriticis- mus, etc., vol. I., Leipsic, 1876 ; E. Caird, The Philosophy of Kant, London, 1876 ; same author, The Critical Philosophy of Kant, 2 vols., London and New York, 1889 ; C. Cantoni, E. Kant, 3 vols., Milan, 1879-1883; Adamson, The Philosophy of Kant, Edinburgh, 1879; W. Wallace, Ka7it (Philosophical Classics), London, 1882; K. Fischer's Kant in his History of Philosophy (see p. 12) ; F. Paulsen, Was Kant uns sein kann (V. f w. Ph., pp. 1-96, 1881) ; Journal of Speculative Philosophy, ed. by W. T. Harris, July and October numbers, 1881 ; J. G. Schurman, Kanfs Critical Problem (Phil. Rev., XL, 2, 1893) ; E. Adickes, Kant-Studien, Kiel and Leipsic, 1895 ; same author. Bibli- ography of Writings by Kant and on Kant, in the Philosophical Review, beginning with vol. II., 3 ff. See also Scliopenhauer's Kritik der Kaiitischen Philosophie, and T. H. Green's L^ectures on the Philosophy of Kant. — TiJ.] KANT 435 city (1740-1746), Kant became a private tutor, then a Pnvatdocent in the University of Konigsberg (1755), where he taught logic, ethics, metaphysics, mathematics, cosmography, and geography. He was made full Professor in 1770, and continued his lectures until 1797. In 1804 he died, rich in honors and in years. Kant never left his native province, and never married. He enjoyed good health, was absolutely regular in his daily habits, free from the cares of family-life, and, for three-quarters of a cen- tury, devoted to science and intellectual pleasures. Thus he realized, in a certain measure, the ideal of the philoso- phers of Athens and Rome ; but his cheerful temperament and sociable disposition softened the harshness in the char- acter of the Stoic sage. When we remember, besides, that he was a reformer in philosophy, it will hardly surprise us to hear that history likens him to Socrates. His philosophical writings may be divided into two sep- arate classes. Those of his dogmatic period ^ betray the disciple of Leibniz and Wolff ; though anticipating, espe- cially his Trciume eines Geister sellers (1766), the teach- ings of his maturer years. Those of his second period (1770-1804), during which the influence of Hume led him to break with dogmatism, present a new philosophy. Chief among them are : Dc mundi sensihilis atqite intelUgi- hilis forma et principiis ^ (1770) ; Kritik der reinen Ver- nunft (1781.; 2d edition, revised, 1787) : ^ his master-work, ^ To the first period belongs his Allgemeine NaturgescMclite und Theorie des Himmels, one of the masterpieces of general physics. [For the development of Kant's critical philosophy consult, especially, the works of Paulsen, Riehl, and Caird, mentioned in the preceding note, as well as Hartmann's KanVs Erkenntniss-theorie, etc., Leipsic, 1894. -Tr.] 2 [Translated into English, with an introduction and discussion, by" W. J. Eckoif, ^^ew York, 1894. — Tr.] 3 [Separate editions of the Kritik, by Kehrbach (based upon the first edition), B. Erdmann, and E. Adickes (both based upon the sec- ond), Engl, translations (of 2d ed.) by Meiklejohn {Bohn's Library^ 436 MODERN PHILOSOPHY which forms the basis of the following: Prolegomena zu einer jeden kilnftigen Metaphysik'^ (1783); Gruiidlegung zur Metcifhysik der Sitten 2 (1785) ; Iletaphysische Anfangs- grUnde der Naturwissenschctft ^ (1786) ; Kritik der prakti- schen Vernunft^ (1788); Kritik der Urtheilskraft^ (1190); Die Religion innerhalb der Grenzen der blossen Vernunft^ (1793). Our age, as Kant often says, is the age of criticism ; and by that word he understands the philosophy which, before affirming, weighs, and, before assuming to know, inquires into the conditions of knowledge. Not only is the philoso- phy "of Kant criticism in this general sense ; it is also criticism in the special sense of being a theory of ideas ; it is critical^ as distinguished from the extreme theories of Leibniz and Locke, in that it discriminates (^Kpiveiv^ dis- cernere}, in the formation of ideas, between the product of sensation and the product of the spontaneous activity of London, 1854; (of 1st ed., with supplements of 2d), by Max Miiller, London, 1881 ; Paraphrase by Mahaffy and Bernard, London and New York, 1889 ; Selections (from Critique of Pure Reason, Critique of Judgment, and ethical writings) by J. Watson (^Modern Philosophers), 2d ed., New York, 1888. See also Stirlmg's partial translation of the Critique in the work cited, p. 437, note 1. — Tr.] ^ [Engl. tr. by Mahaffy and Bernard, London and New Y'^ork, 1889; by Bax {Bohn's Library). — Tr.-\ 2 [^Foundation of the Metaphysics of Ethics ; Engl. tr. by T. K. Abbott, 4th ed., London, 1889. — Tr.] 3 [Metaphysical Foundations of Natural Science ; Engl. tr. by Bax (Bohn's Library). — Tr.] ^ [Critique of Practical Reason; Engl. tr. by T. K. Abbott in same volume as above. — Tr.] 5 [Critique of Judgment ; Engl. tr. by J. H. Bernard, London and New Y^ork, 1892. — Tr.] ^ [Religion loithin the Bounds of Pure Reason: first part tr. by T. K. Abbott in the same volume with the ethical writings, supra. Trans- lations of the Philosophy of L^aiv and Principles of Politics, including essay on Perpetual Peace, by W. Hastie, Edinburgh, 1887, 1891. -^Tr.] KANT 437 pure reason. It acknowledges with sensationalism that the 'matter of our ideas is furnished by the senses ; with idealism it claims that their /or//i is the work of reason, — that reason, by its own laws, transforms inlo ideas the given manifold of sensation. Criticism neither aims to be sensationalistic nor intelleclualistic in the extreme sense of these terms, but transcendental ; i. e., going hajond (transcendens) the sen- sationalistic and idealistic doctrines, it succeeds in reaching a higher standpoint, which enables it to appreciate the rela- tive truth and falsehood in the theories of dogmatism. It is a method rather than a system, an introduction to philos- ophy rather than a finished system. Its motto is the yvcodc aeauTov of Socrates, which it interprets to mean : Before constructing any system whatever, reason must inquire into its resources for constructing it. In its examination of reason, criticism carefully separates the different elements of this faculty, and, true to the critical s^^irit whence it springs, distinguishes between the theo- retical order, the practical order, and the sesthetical order. Reason resembles a queen, who, under three different names, governs three separate states, each having its own laws, customs, and tendencies. In the theoretical sphere, it manifests itself as the faculty of knowing, or the sense of truth ; in the practical sphere, as the active faculty, or the sense of goodness ; in the sesthetical sphere, as the sense of beauty and teleological fitness. The Kantian phi- losophy gives each of these three spheres its due, exam- ining one after another, without prejudice or dogmatic prepossessions. I. Critique of Pure Reason 1 And, first of all, it asks : What is knowledge ? An idea taken by itself (man, earth, heat) is not knowl- * [H. Vaihinger, Commentar zu KanVs Kritik der reinen Vernunft, vol. I., Stuttgart, 1881 ; vol. II, ib., 1892 ; H. Cohen, Kant's Theorie der 438 MODERN PHILOSOPHY edge ; in order to become knowledge, the ideas of man, earth, and heat must be combined with other ideas ; there must be a subject and a predicate, i. e., a judgment. Ex- amples : Man is a responsible being ; the earth is a planet ; heat expands bodies. Hence, all knowledge is formulated into propositions ; all knowledge is judgment, but not every judgment is knowledge. There are analytic judgments and synthetic judgments.^ The former merely analyze (avaXveiv) an idea, without ad- ding anything new to it. Example : Bodies are extended. The j)i'edicate extended adds nothing to the sul)ject that is not already contained in it. This judgment tells me nothing new ; it does not increase my knowledge. When, on the other hand, I say : The earth is a planet, I make a synthetic judgment, i. e., I join (avvriOrnjii) to the idea of the earth a new predicate, the idea of a planet, which can- not be said to be inseparable from the idea of the earth ; nay, it has taken man thousands of years to connect it with the latter. Hence, synthetic judgments enrich, extend, and increase my knowledge, and alone constitute knowledge ; which is not the case with analytic judgments. But here Kant makes an important reservation. Not every synthetic judgment is necessarily scientific knowl- edge. In order to constitute real scientific knowledge, with which alone we are here concerned, a judgment must be true in all cases ; the union which it establishes between subject and predicate should not be accidental, but neces- Erfahrung, Berlin, 1871, 2d ed., 1885 ; J. Yolkelt, Kant's Erkenntnisstheo- rie, etc., Leipsic, 1879 ; E. Pfleiderer, Kantischer Kriticismus und englische Pkilosophie, Tubingen, 1881 ; J. H. Stirling, Text-book to Kant, Edin- burgh and London, 1881 ; Watson, Kant and his English Critics, Lon- don, 1881 ; G. S. Morris, Kant's Critique of Pure Reason (Griggs's Philosophical Classics), Chicago, 1882 ; K. Lasswitz, Die Lehre Kant's von der Idealitdt des Raumes und der Zeit, Berlin, 1883. — Tr.]. 1 Kritik der reinen Vernunft (Rosenkranz), p. 21 ; Prolegomena, p. 16. KANT 439 sary. " It is warm," is undoubtedly a synthetic judgment, but it is accidental and contingent, for it may be cold to- morrow ; hence it is not a scientific proposition. When- ever, however, you say : Heat expands, }oli state a fact which will be as true to-morrow and a thousand years from now as it is to-day ; you state a necessary proposition and a concept properly so-called. But what right have I to affirm that this proposition is necessary, universal, true in every instance ? Does expe- rience reveal to me all cases, and are there no possible cases, beyond our observation, in which heat does not ex- pand the bodies which it usually expands ? Hume is right on this point. Since experience always furnishes only a limited number of cases, it cannot yield necessity and universality. Hence, a judgment a posterwri, i. e., one based solely on experience, cannot constitute scientific knowledge. In order to be necessary, or scientific, a judg- ment must rest on a rational basis ; it must be rooted in reason as well as in observation ; it must be a judgment a priori. Now, mathematics, physics, and metaphysics consist of synthetic judgments a priori.^ Hence, to sum up : Knowledge may be defined as synthetic judgment a priori. This is Kant's answer to his preliminary ques- tion : What is knowledge ? How can we form synthetic judgments a priori? In other terms : Under what conditions is knowledge possible ? This is the fundamental problem which Kantian criticism undertakes to solve.^ It is possible, Kant answers, provided the senses furnish the materials for a judgment, and reason the cement needed to unite them. Take the proposition already cited : Heat expands bodies. This proposition contains two dis- 1 Prolegomena, pp. 22 ff. — Before Kant's time, mathematical pro- poBitions were regarded as analytic. * Prolegomena, pp. 28 ff. 440 MODERN PHILOSOPHY tinct elements: (1) the elements furnislied by sensation', heat, expansion, bodies ; (2) an element not given by sen- sation, but derived solely from the intellect : the causal relation which the sentence in question establishes between heat and the expansion of bodies. What is true of our example is true of every scientific judgment. Every scien- tific judgment necessarily contains sensible elements and pure or rational elements. In denying the former, idealism ignores the fact that persons born blind have no idea of color, and, consequently, no notion of light ; in denying the rational, innate, a priori element, sensationalism forgets that the most refined senses of the idiot are incapable of suggesting a scientific notion to him. The critical philos- ophy occupies a place between these two extreme theories, and recognizes both the rSle of sensibility and that of pure reason in the formation of our judgments. But we must make a more penetrating analysis of the faculty of knowledge. As we have just seen, it is divided into two sub-faculties, one of which furnishes the materials of our knowledge, while the other fashions them, or makes concepts of them. Hence, our examination of reason, in the broad sense of faculty of knowledge, will take up: (1) the sensibility (intuitive reason) and (2) the under- standing proper.^ 1. Critique of Sensibility^ or Transcendental Esthetic We now know in a general way that knowledge is the common product of sensibility and the understanding. But what are the conditions of sense-perception, or, to use Kant's language, intuition (Anschanung) ? Sensibility, we said, furnishes the understanding with the materials of its knowledge. But the materials them- selves, of which the garment is to be made, already have 1 Kritik, p. 28. KANT 441 a certain shape; they are no k)nger absolutely raw ma- terials : the latter have been subjected to the preliminary processes of spinning and weaving. Or, in other words, our sensibility is not purely passive ; it does not turn over to the understanding the materials wliich the latter needs, without adding something of its own ; it impresses its stamp, its own forms, upon tilings ; or, as one might say, it marks the perceived object just as the outline of our hands is traced upon a handful of snow. It is in particular what the faculty of knowledge is in general : both receptive and active ; it receives a mysterious substance from without, and makes an intuition of it. Hence, there are, in every intuition, two elements : a pure or a priori element and an a posteriori element, form and matter, something that reason produces spontaneously and something, I know not what, derived elsewhere. What is tliis form ? What are the a priori elements which our sensibility does not receive, but draws from its own nature and adds to each of its intuitions, just as the digestive apparatus adds its juices to the swallowed food, in order to transform it into chyle ? These a priori intui- tions, which sensationalism denies, and whose existence the Critique of Pure Reason proves, are space, the form of the outer sense, and time, the form of the inner sense. Space* and time are original intuitions of reason^ prior to all expe- rience : this is the immortal discovery of Kant, and one of , the fundamental teachings of the critical philosophy.^ The following proofs may be offered in support of the view that space and time come from reason and not from experience : (1) Although the infant has no accurate notion of distance, it tends to withdraw from disagreeable objects and to approach such as give it pleasure. Hence it knows a priori that such objects are in front of it,« by the side of it, beyond it, etc. Prior to all other intuitions, it has the 1 Kritik, pp. 31-54. 442 MODERN PHILOSOPHY idea of before^ beside^ beyond^ i. e., tlie idea of space, of which these are but particuhir applications. Tiie same is true of time. Prior to all perception, the child has a feeling of before and after^ without which its perceptions would be a confused, disordered, disconnected mass. That is, prior or a "priori to every other intuition, it has the idea of time. (2) Another proof that space and time are a priori intui- tions: Thought may abstract from everything that fills space and time ; in no case can it abstract from space and time themselves. This proves that these intuitions, instead of coming from without, are, so to say, of a piece with reason ; that they are, in the inaccurate language of dog- matic philosophy, innate^ that they are, in tlie last analysis, identical with reason. (3) But the decisive proof of the a-priority of the ideas of space and time is furnished by mathematics. Arithmetic is the science of duration, the successive moments of which constitute number. Geometry is the science of space. Now arithmetical and geometrical truths possess the character of absolute necessity. No one would seriously maintain : My previous experience teaches me that three, times three are nine, or that the three angles of a triangle are equal to two right angles, etc., for everybody knows that such truths are independent of experience. Experience, being restricted to a limited number of cases, cannot give a truth the abso- lute and unquestionable character possessed by the axioms of mathematics ; these truths do not spring from experience but from reason: hence the sovereign authority which characterizes them, and the impossibility of doubting them for a sino-le instant. But such truths are concerned with o space and time. Hence, space and time are intuitions a priori. Shall we call them general ideas formed by comparison and abstraction ? But an idea thus formed necessarily contains fewer characteristics than the particular idea ; the KANT 443 idea of man is infinitely less comprehensive and poorer than the particular idea of Socrates, Plato, or Aristotle. Now, who would be bold enough to assert that universal space contains less than a particular space, or, infinite time, less than a fixed period of time ? The ideas of space and time are, therefore, not the results of an intellectual opera- tion, of the comparison of different spaces, from which the general idea of space is derived; or of a comparison of moments of duration, whence arises the general idea of time. They are not results, but principles, conditions a 2)riori and sine qicibus non of perception. The common man imagines that he perceives space and time, that space and time are, just like their contents, objects of perception. But as a matter of fact, it is as impossible for them to be perceived as it is for the eye to see itself (its image in the mirror is not the eye itself). We see all things m space, but we cannot see space itself, nor perceive duration inde- pendently of its content. All perception presupposes the ideas of space and time ; and unless we had these ideas a 2^'f^iori^ unless reason created them prior to all its intu- itions, unless they pre-existed as original and inalienable forms, sense-perception could never take place. We now know the conditions under which sense-percep- tion operates. It depends on the cc priori ideas of space and time, which are, as it were, the prehensile organs of sensibility. These ideas are not images corresponding to external objects. There is no object called space, nor an object called time. Time and space are not objects of per- ception, but modes of 2^erceiving objects^ instinctive habits, inhering in the thinking subject. The transcendental ideality of space and time : such is the important conclusion reached by the critical examina- tion of sensibility, the mene thekel of dogmatism. Let us see what this conclusion implies. If neither space nor time exists independently of reason and its intuitive activ- 444 MODERN PHILOSOPHY ity, then things, considered in themselves and independently of the reason which thinks them, have no existence in time or space. Hence, if sensibility, in consequence of an in- stinctive and inevitable habit, shows us things in time and space, it does not show them as they are in themselves, but as they appear to it through its spectacles, one of whose glasses is called time ; tlie other, space. As they appear to it ! which means that sensibility gives us a2:>pear- ances, or (f)aLv6iJL€va, and that it is incapable of giving us the tliing-in-itself\ the vov^evov. And since the under- standing obtains the materials which it needs exclusively from the senses, since there is no other channel through which the materials can come, it is evident that it always and necessarily operates upon phenomena, and that the mystery concealed beneath the phenomenon forever baffles it, as it forever baffles the senses. 2. Critique of the Undei' standing^ or Transcendental Logic ^ Kant distinguishes, in the general faculty of knowledge, between sensibility, which produces intuitions or sensible ideas, and the understanding, which elaborates them. In the understanding he again distinguishes between the faculty of judgment, i. e., the faculty of connecting the intuitions with each other according to certain a priori laws ( Verstand), and the faculty of arranging our judg- ments under a series of universal Ideas ( Vernunft^ reason, in the narrowest sense of the word). The inquiry con- cerning the understanding is therefore subdivided into the critique of the faculty of judgment (^Verstand') and the critique of reason proper ( Vernunft'), or, to use Kant's own language, into the Transcendental Analytic and the Tran- scendental Dialectic. 1 Kritik, pp. 55 fE. KANT 445 A. Transcendental Analytic Just as the intuitive faculty perceives all things in time and space, reason moulds its judgments according to cer- tain forms or general concepts, which, in philosophy, have been called categories, ever since the days of Aristotle. Kant agrees with Hume that the highest category, the idea of cause, conceived as the necessary relation between two phe- nomena, is not derived from experience. Hume, however, regards it as the result of our habit of seeing certain facts constantly conjoined together, and consequently considers it as a prejudice useful to science, but without metaphysi- cal value. Kant, on the other hand, defends its validity ; and from the impossibility of deriving it from experience, infers that it is innate. The idea of cause and all other categories are, according to him, a priori functions of the understanding, means of knowledge aiid not objects of knowl- edge, just as time and space are, according to the same philosopher, modes of seeing (iyituendi) and not objects of intuition. Not content with proving, against empiricism, that the categories are innate, Kant attempts to make out an in- ventory of them, and to deduce them from a principle. He gives us a complete list; indeed, far too complete a list. His love of symmetry impels him to add a category of limitation (which Schopenhauer ingeniously calls a false window), and a category of being and non-being {JDasein und Niclitsein), which he erroneously distinguishes from the concepts of reality and negation. As far as the logi- cal deduction of a priori ideas is concerned, we must confess that it is merely a pium desiderium ; no one before Hegel has really made a serious attempt to solve this problem. The theory of judgment which Kant finds in traditional logic, serves as his guide in the discovery and classifica- tion of the categories. Indeed, he says, the judgment is 446 MODERN PHILOSOPHY the highest function of the understanding. Now the cate- gories are the forms according to which we judge. Hence there are as many categories as there are kinds of judg- ments. Logic enumerates twelve of them: (1) the uni- versal judgment (All men are mortal) ; (2) the particular judgment (Some men are philosophers) ; (3) the singular judgment (Peter is a mathematician) ; (4) the affirmative judgment (Man is mortal); (5) the negative judgment (The soul is not mortal) ; (6) the limiting judgment (The soul is immortal) ; (7) the categorical judgment (God is just) ; (8) the hypothetical judgment (If God is just, he will punish the wicked) ; (9) the disjunctive judgment (Either the Greeks or the Romans are the leading nation of anti- quity) ; (10) the problematical judgment (The planets are, perhaps, inhabited) ; (11) the assertory judgment (The earth is round) ; (12) the apodictic judgment (God must be just). The first tliree express totality, plurality, and unity, i. e., in a word, the idea of quantity ; the fourth, fifth, and sixth express reality, negation, and limitation, or, the idea of quality ; the seventh, eighth, and ninth express substan- tiality and inherence, causality and dependence, and reci- procity, or, in short, relation ; finally, the tenth, eleventh, and twelfth express possibility and impossibility, being and non-being, necessity and contingency, i. e., the idea of modality. There are, therefore, twelve categories, arranged in threes, under four groups or fundamental categories : quan- tity, quality, relation, and modality. One of these, relation^ governs and embraces all the rest. It is the highest cate- gory, since every judgment, whatever it may be, expresses a relation.^ From these four cardinal categories four rules or prin- ciples necessarily follow, which are, therefore, also a priori ;^ (1) From the standpoint of quantity, every phenomenon, 1 Kritik, p. 79. 2 7^/.^ pp. 131 g. KANT 447 i. e., everything presented by the intuitive faculty as exist- ing in space and in time, is a quantity, i. e., a fixed extent and a fixed duration. This principle excludes the hypoth- esis of atoms. (2) From the standpoint of quality, every phenomenon has a certain content, a certain degree of intensity. This principle excludes the hypothesis of the void. (3) From the standpoint of relation, all phenomena are united by the tie of causality ; which excludes the hypoth- esis of chance; there is, moreover, a reciprocal action between the effects and their causes ; which excludes the idea of fatum. (4) From the standpoint of modality, every phenomenon is possible that conforms to the laws of space and time, and every phenomenon is necessary., tlie absence of which would imply the suspension of these laws ; which excludes miracles. The first and second of these principles constitute the law of continidty ; the third and fourth, the law of causality. These categories and the principles which follow from them form the pure., innate, a priori element, and, as it were, the patrimony of the understanding QVer stamp). The latter does not receive them ; it draws them from its own inner nature ; it does not find them in the phenomenal world ; it imposes theyn upon it.^ These conclusions of the transcendental logic are of the highest importance. But, before we develop them, we must, in a few words, explain what Kant means by the schematism of pure reason."^ The analysis of the faculty of knowledge has outlined the boundaries between sensibility and the intellect (sen- sibility receives the impressions, co-ordinates them, and makes intuitions of them ; the intellect synthesizes the in- tuitions, i. e., judges and reasons). We discriminated, in sensibility, between a posteriori intuitions and the a priori 1 Prolegomena, pp. 84-85. '^ Krilik, pp. 122 ff. 448 MODERN PHILOSOPHY intuitions of space and time ; in the understanding we discovered a number of a priori concepts, wliich are so many compartments, as it were, in which reason stores and elaborates the products of experience. But though containing many elements, the faculty of knowledge is, nevertheless, a unity. This essential unity of reason in the diversity of its operations is the ego^ the feeling or apperception of which accompanies all intellectual phe- nomena, and constitutes their common bond, so to speak. Kant is not satisfied with a mere analysis ; not only does he take apart the knowledge-machine, as we might say, he also attempts to explain how it works, and to show how the parts fit into each other. He, therefore, imagines the categories of limitation, reciprocity or concurrence, and reality, as connecting links between affirmation and nega- tion, substantiality and causality, possibility and necessity : fictions which gave rise to the triads of Fichte and Hegel (thesis, antithesis, and synthesis). It is owing to the same demand for synthesis that he raises the question : How can reason act upon the data of sensibility ; by what means, by what arm, as it were, does it lay hold of sensible intuitions and make notions of them? This operation is, in his opinion, effected by means of the idea of time, the natural intermediary between intuitions and concepts. Though time, like space, belongs to the domain of sensible things, it is less material than space, and partakes more of the entirely abstract nature of the categories. Owing to its resemblance to the categories, the idea of time serves as an image or symbol to express the a priori notions in terms of sense, and becomes a kind of interpreter between the intuitive faculty and the under- standing, which, without it, cannot assist in the formation of the judgment. Considered as a series of moments, or as number, time expresses the idea of quantity : The image of universality KANT 449 is the totality of moments of time; the particular is ex- pressed by a certain number of moments ; the singular, by one moment. The content of time symbolizes the idea of quality (reality is expressed by a time filled with events ; negation, by a time in which nothing happens). Time like- wise symbolizes the idea of relation : Permanence in time represents the idea of substance ; succession of moments, the idea of cause and effect ; simultaneity, the idea of reci- procity and concurrence. Finally, time is the image of the categories of modality : That which corresponds to the con- ditions of time is possible ; that which exists at a definite time is real or actual ; that which is eternal is necessary. Hence, the idea of time serves as a scheme for the a priori concepts of the understanding; it is a framework, so to speak, of the ideal constructions, for which the senses fur- nish the stones, and reason the mortar. Reason uses the idea of time as an interpreter between itself and sensibility ; and this oj)eration is called, in the pedantic language of criticism, the schematism of pure reason. The conclusion of the critique of the intellect merely corroborates the sceptical and subjectivistic results of the Transcendental u3^sthefic. The critique of the intuitive faculty has demonstrated that we see things through colored glasses (space and time), i. e., otherwise than they are in themselves. The examina- tion of the understanding shows that we communicate with them through an entire system of glasses. Sensibility per- ceives them, but in doing this, it impresses its forms upon them, i. e., it transforms them. We do not perceive them as they are, but as they appear to us, that is, as we make them. When we perceive them, they have already been stamped ; indeed, they are perceived by the very forms in- hering in sensibility (space and time). They are no longer tilings ; they are nothing but phenomena. Hence the phe- nomenon may be defined as the thing transformed by the 450 MODERN THILOSOPHY mould of the intuitive faculty. What constitutes it is, on the one hand, the thing which impresses the senses, but above everything else, the sensibility itself, or reason in the broad sense of the term : it is ourselves ; it is the /, the perceiving and thinking subject, that makes the phenomenon. The phenomenon is the product of reason ; it does not exist otitside of us, hut in us ; it does not exist beyond the limits of intuitive reason.^ Now, while the JEsthetic brings us to the threshold of sub- jective idealism, the Transcendental Logic carries us right into it, in spite of Kant's protests against our confounding him with Berkeley. Not only, he tells us, does reason, as an intuition, constitute, produce, or create the phenomenon, but reason, in the form of the understanding, also de- termines the reciprocal relations of sensible phenomena. Reason makes them a priori quantities, qualities, causes, and effects, and thus impresses upon them the seal of its legislative power ; it is through reason that the things become quantities, qualities, effects, and causes, which they are not in themselves. Hence we may say Avithout exag- geration that it is reason ivhich prescribes its laws to the sen- sible universe ; it is reason which makes the cosmos. Such are Kant's own words,'^ and we emphasize these memorable theses because they form the immediate basis of the systems of Fichte, Schelling, and Hegel. And jet the latter are called the apostates of criticism, whom Kant himself repudiates ! Nevertheless, the man who said that reason, — and human reason, nota bene., — prescribes its laws to the universe, is the father of Hegelian panlogism. But, we must add, he is so, in spite of himself ; the bent of his philosophy is essentially different from that of his successors. Instead of deifying the human understanding, he claims to limit it, — to force the overflowing river into its natural ' Kritit, p. 389 ; Prolegomena, pp. 44, 51. ^ Prolegomena, p. 85. KANT 451 channel, the phenomenal world, and to exclude forever the sphere of the absolute. When Kant says that reason creates the universe, or at least assists in its creation, he means the phenomenal universe, the totality of phenomena, and he very candidly admits that there may be, beyond the phe- nomenal world, a world of noumena or realities which cannot be perceived, which are inaccessible and conse- quently superior to reason. ^ Kant is far from being a pan- logist in the Hegelian sense of the term ; nay, the very object of the entire second part of his critique of the under- standing, the Transcendental Dialectic^ is to demonstrate the incompetence of theoretical reason beyond the domain of experience, and the futility of metaphysics considered as the science of the absolute. B. Transcekdental Dialectic ^ From the faculty of judgment (Verstand} Kant dis- tinguishes that of embracing the totality of our judgments under certain general points of view, which he calls Ideas. This faculty, the highest of all in the intellectual sphere, is reason in the narrow sense of the term, the vov^ of the ancients. The concepts of " reason," or Ideas,^ are : the thing-in-itself^ or the absolute^ the universe^ the soid^ and God. Their function is similar to that of the a priori intuitions (space and time), and that of the categories. Just as the former arrange the impressions of sense, and the latter, the intuitions, so the Ideas arrange the infinite mass of judgments and reduce them to a system. Hence "reason," which fashions them, is the liigliest synthetic faculty, the systematic and scientific faculty. Tims, from ^ The absolute rationalism of his successors, on the other hand, does not admit any kind of transcendency. 2 Kritik, pp. 238 ff. ' The term is derived from Platonism, but the Ideas of Kant are not, like those of Plato, realities existing apart from our thought. 452 MODERN PHILOSOPHY the co-operation of sensibility, judgment, and " reason " ai'ise the sciences. For example : The outer sense, by means of its a priori intuitions of space and time, furnishes us with a series of phenomena ; the understanding, with the help of its categories, makes concepts, judgments, and scientific propositions of them ; finally, " reason " embraces these disjecta membra under the Idea of the cosmos, and makes a science of them. So, too, the inner sense furnishes us with a series of facts ; the understanding makes con- cepts of them ; and " reason " combines these concepts into the Idea of the soul, and produces the science of psychology. By viewing the totality of phenomena from the standpoint of the absolute or of God, reason creates theology. The "Ideas" and "reason," as a separate facidty of the understanding, seem to be superfluities in the Kantian system. The Idea of the cosmos is nothing but the cate- gory of totality ; the Idea of the soul and the Idea of God are the categories of substance and cause, applied to inner facts (soul) and to the sum-total of phenomena (God). " Reason," consequently, is not a faculty distinct from the understanding ; it is merely its complete development- But we shall not insist on tliis critical detail. Let us rather hasten to discuss the most important topic of the Dialectic : the doctrine of the a-priority of the Ideas.^ Just as space and time are not perceived objects^ but modes of perceiving objects; just as the categories of quan- tity, quality, and relation are means, not objects, of knowl- edge, so, too, the universe, the soul, and God are a prioj^i syntheses of reason and not beings existing independently of the thinking subject. At least, it is impossible for rea- son to demonstrate their objective existence. Reason, as Kant insists, really knows nothing but phenomena, and receives the matter of all its operations from sensibility alone. Now the universe, as absolute totality, the soul, and J Kritik, pp. 252 ff. KANT 453 God are not phenomena ; tlie Ideas — in this, says Kant, they differ from the categories — do not receive any con- tent from sensibility ; they are supreme norms, regulative points of view, no more, no less. Old metaphysics erred in regarding them as anything else. Dogmatism deludes itself when it claims to know the absolute. It resembles the child that sees the sky touching the horizon, and imagines that it can reach the sky by mov- ing towards the seeming line of intersection. The sky is the thing-in-itself, the absolute, Avhich by a kind of optical illusion, seems to us to be an object that can be studied and experienced ; the horizon, which recedes as the child advances, is experience, which seems to attain the absolute, and which, in reality, cannot approach it ; the child itself is the dogmatic metaphysician. Let us say, to be just, that the illusion is common to all intellects, just as the illusion tliat the heaven bounds tlie earth is sliared by all. But there is this difference between the dogmatic philosopher and tlie critical philosopher. The former, like the child, is the dupe of his illusion, while the latter explains it and takes it for what it is worth. Kant might have summed up his entire critique as follows : Knowledge is relative ; a known absolute signifies a relative absolute ; which is contradictory. Wliat is true of traditional ontology is true of psychology, cosmology, and theology. Rational psychology, as Descartes, Leibniz, and Wolff conceived it, rests on a paralogism.^ " I think," says Des- cartes, " therefore I am " — and mentally adds : a substance. Now, that is just what he has no right to do. / tJiinJc^ means : I am the logical subject of my thought. But have I the riglit to infer from this that I am a substance in the sense which Cartesian metaphysics attaches to the term ? A logical subject is one thing, a metaphysical subject m 1 Kritik, pp. 275 £E. 454 MODERN PHILOSOPHY quite another. When I express the judgment : The earth is a phmet, the logical subject of this proposition is the ego that formulates it ; while the earth is the real subject. The celebrated thesis of Descartes is a paralogism, because it confuses the /, the logical subject, with the /, the real subject. Metaphysically, I do not know the ego^ and I shall never know it, except as the logical subject, as an Idea inseparable from my judgments, as the premise and neces- sary concomitant of all my intellectual operations. I shall never know more. As soon as I make a substance of it, I make it the object of a judgment, which is, according to Kant, as absurd as though I pretended to see space and time. Space and time are a priori ideas which serve as a framework for sensible ideas, without being objects of the senses themselves. So, too, the cogito is an a priori judg- ment, preceding all other judgments as a conditio sine qua non^ without, however, in any way anticipating the nature of the ego. I cannot judge metaphysically concerning the ego, because it is I who am judging : one cannot be both judge and litigant, as they say in law ; or subject of the dis- course and the real subject, as they say in logic. If it is not possible to prove that the ego exists as a sub- stance, the doctrines of the simplicity, immateriality, and immortality of the human soul cannot stand. From the existence of simple ideas it does not necessarily follow that the soul is a simple substance, for there are also collective ideas. To conclude from the simplicity of ideas the simplicity of the " spiritual substance " would be equivalent to inferring the simplicity of the cosmical substance from the simplicity of weight, or the unity of motive force from the simplicity of what mechanics calls the resultant. Suppose, however, the soul were a simple substance ; simplicity is not immortality. We must remember that, from Kant's point of view, bodies are phenomena, i. e., facts KANT produced by sensibility, the sensible subject or the ego, with the co-operation of an absolutely unknown cause. The phenomenon — we must always return to this fundamental thesis of criticism — the phenomenon is nothing external to the sensible subject ; heat, light, and color, although called forth by an external, wholly mysterious, solicitation, are products of sensibility, inner facts, — in short, ideas. Kant, it is true, seeks to draw a line of demarcation be- tween the phenomenon and tlie intuition or idea, between what happens at the boundary of the ego and the non-ego, and what is entirely subjective ; but with indifferent success. The phenomenon takes place in us and is consequently identical with the idea. Hence, in so far as they are phe- nomena, bodies are ideas. Why, then, should not the bodies, on the one hand, and the intuitions properly so-called, the categories, and the judgments, on the other, have a common substance ? Why should not that wliicli we call matter be an immaterial thing, and what we call mind or soul, be a material thing ? ^ Immortality, therefore, likewise ceases to be a self-evident doctrine. According to the supporters of this dogma, the soul is not only an indestructible substance, but preserves, in death, the consciousness of self. Now, we discover, in inner perception, infinite degrees of intensity, and may conceive a descending scale that culminates in complete destruction. By showing us the possibility of what dogmatism had previously affirmed in Spinoza, viz., the identity of spirit- 1 Kritil; first edition, p. 288 : So konnte dock wohl dasj'enige E/waSj welches den dusseren Ersclieinungen Z7im Grunde liegt, loas unaern Sinn so ajficirt, dass er die Vorstellungen von Raum, Materie, Gestalt, etc., hekommt, dieses Etivas . . . konnte dock auch zugleich das Subject der Gedanken sein. . . . Demnach ist selhst diirch die eingerdumte Einfachlieit der Natur die menscJdiche Seele von der Mnterie, wenn man sie (wie man soil) bios als Erscheinung betrachfet in Ansehung des Substrati derselben gar nicht h inreichend unterschieden. 456 MODERN PHILOSOPHY ual substance and material substance, criticism does away with the hypotheses of influxus, divine assistance, and pre- established harmony. These theories lose their raison d'etre as soon as it is proved that the " substances " of Descartes and the " monads " of Leibniz are nothing but phenomena, derived, perhaps^ from a common source. The prol)lem is no longer to explain the reciprocal action of soul and body, but to ascertain how the same reason, the same ego, can produce phenomena as diametrically opposed as material facts and intellectual facts, extension and thought. In this new form, the question retains all its importance and mysterious fascination for Kant. He touched upon it, as we saw, in connection with the idea of time and its function as an intermediary between the intuitions and the categories, but he could not penetrate more deeply into the subject without contradicting his premises. To attempt to solve it meant to state what sensibility is in itself] what the understanding is in itself ; it meant to make the thing-in-itself an object of metaphysical knowledge. After overthrowing rational psychology, Kant undertakes to demolish rational cosmology in the Wolffian sense.^ In- stead of confining itself to the domain of experience, this alleged science makes an Idea, the cosmos, the object of its speculations. When it considers this Idea from the stand- point of quantity, quality, relation, and modality, it neces- sarily becomes involved in antinomies. Antinomies are theories which contradict each other, each one, at the same time, being as capable of demonstration as the other. ANTINOMY OF QUANTITY We can demonstrate, with the same show of reason, that tlie universe is a limited quantity, and that it is unlimited in space and time, i. e., infinite and eternal. 1 Kritik, pp. 325 ff. KANT 457 (1) The universe is limited in time and in space. Let us assume, for the sake of argumeut, that it is not. The universe, as a whole, is composed of parts which exist sim- ultaneously. Now, I cannot conceive it as a whole excer[3t l)j a mental addition, a successive synthesis of its parts. 15 ut, by hypothesis, these jDarts are infinite in number. Hence their successive addition requires an infinite time. Consequently, the idea of the universe, the result of this addition, presupposes that an infinite time has elapsed to form it. But elapsed time is not infinite time. To reach a sum, the number of parts to be added must be limited : we cannot add an infinite number of parts. Now, the idea of the universe is a synthesis, the result of an addition. Hence, the universe has a limited extent (Aristotle). Let us likewise assume that it has no limit in time, that it has no beginning. On this hypothesis, an infinite number of moments have elapsed up to a given time. But an infinite lapse (i. e., finitude) of time is a contradiction in terms. The universe, therefore, is limited in space and in time (Plato). (2) The universe is unlimited in space and in time. Otherwise, there Avould be, beyond its limits, an infinite space (for the idea of space does not admit of limits); hence there would be space by the side of things, and we might speak of a relation between the universe and the infinite space surrounding it, i. e., of a relation between objects and something which is not an object ; for we now know that space is not an object. But a relation between an object and something that is not an object is impos- sible ; a relation may obtain between things in space ; there can be none between things and the space in whicli they exist. Hence the universe is unlimited. — If it had had a beginning, it would have been preceded by time without content, i. e., by nothing^ for time without content is equal to nothing. Now ex nihilo niltil. Hence the universe is eternal (Parmenides, Aristotle). 458 MODERN PHILOSOPHY AISTTINOMY OF QUALITY Considered from the standpoint of quality (i. e., of its inner nature), is cosmical matter composed of atoms or elements which are, in turn, composite? Both the thesis and the antithesis may he proved with equally cogent reasons. Thesis : Matter is composed of shniyle eleiticnts, or atoms. Let us assume that the opposite theory is true, and that matter is composed of parts, in turn composed of parts divisible into parts, and so on to infinity. If, in this hypothesis, we abstract from the idea of composition and decomposition, nothing Avhatever is left ; now, out of noth- ing nothing can be composed. Every composite thing pre- supposes simple constitutive elements. Hence, matter is composed of indivisible elementary substances, monads, or atoms. The antithesis, according to which matter is infinitely divisible^ is equally easy of proof. In so far as the as- sumed atoms are material, they are extended. Noav, that which is extended is divisible. Inextended particles are no longer matter. Hence, there are no simple material elements. ANTINOlVriT OF RELATION Does the universe, considered as an order of things, em- brace free causes, or is it governed, without exception, by necessity? Metaphysicians have demonstrated both the thesis and the antithesis. The thesis, which affirms that there are free causes^ is proved as follows : Let us suppose that all things are con- nected with each other by a necessary nexus. If, on this hypothesis, we desire to pass from an effect to its first cause, it will be found that this first cause does not exist, or at least that the cause which seems to be the first is not really the fu'st, but merely a link in the infinite chain of KANT 459 events. Now, according to the principle of sufficient reason, in order that an event be produced, all the causes necessary to its production must exist, and all the con- ditions which it presupposes must be satisfied. If one of these conditions is absent, the event cannot be produced. But, on the hypothesis of an infinite chain, there is no first cause or condition of a given event. If this cause is lack- ing, the occurrence cannot take place. Now, it does take place ; hence, there is a first cause, that is, a cause that is not again the necessarily predetermined effect of a previ- ous cause, or, finally, a free cause. Hence, there are in the world, besides necessary occurrences, free occurrences and free causes. According to the antithesis, everything is necessary con- nection^ and liberty is merely an illusion. Let us assume a free cause. This cause necessarily exists prior to its effects, and, moreover, it pre-exists in a different state from that which it assumes when the effect is produced ; first, it exists as a virgin, then, when the effect is produced, as a mother, so to speak. Thus we have, in the cause in ques- tion, two successive states without a causal tie, which is contrary to the principle recognized by the critique, that every phenomenon is an effect. Hence, liberty in the in- deterministic sense is impossible. ANTINOMY OF MODALITY According to the thesis, there exists either in the tvorld or heyond it^ a necessary heing^ an absolute cause of the uni- verse. The demonstration is similar to the proof of the existence of free causes. The world is a series of effects. Each effect, to be produced, presupposes a determined series of causes or conditions, and, consequently, a first cause or condition, an existence that is Jio longer contin- gent but necessary. 460 MODERN PHILOSOPHY According to the antithesis, there is no necessary heing^ either in the universe as an integral part of the cosmos, or beyond it, as the cause of the world. Now, if there is, in the world and as part of it, some- thing necessary, this can only be conceived in two ways : (1) it exists at the beginning of the world; or (2) it coin- cides with the whole series of phenomena constituting it. Now, every beginning is a moment of time. Hence, an absolute beginning would be a moment of time without a preceding moment ; which is inconceivable, for the idea of time admits of no limits. Hence, there is no necessary being at the origin of things. But it is also incorrect to say with Spinoza and the pantheists, that the whole of things and the totality of the moments of time, i. e., the universe, is necessary and absolute being. For, however immeasur- able it may be, a totality of relative and contingent beings will no more constitute an absolute and necessary being than a hundred thousand idiots will constitute one in- telligent man. Hence, there is nothing necessary m the world. Nor is there anything necessary beyond the universe. For if the necessary being exists outside of the world, it exists outside of time and space. Now it is, by hypothe- sis, the principle, the source, the beginning of things. As their beginning, it constitutes a moment of time. But it is outside of time. That is to say, the necessary being cannot be conceived either in the form of immanency or in that of transcendency. The fourth antinomy is not so much concerned with cos- mology as with rational theology, the futility of which it shows in advance. Nevertheless, Kant devotes eighty- eight pages to the critique of the theodicy and the proofs of the existence of God.^ 1 Krltik, pp. 456 ff. KANT 461 The ontological proof (Anselm, Descartes) concludes from the idea of God the objective existence of a supreme being, and has no more value than the following reason- ing of a poor man : I have the idea of a hundred thalers, hence these hundred thalers exist — in my purse. This is the same objection which Gaunilo of Marmoutiers had urged against St. Anselm. The cosmological argument {a contingentia mundi) falsely assumes that there can be no infinite series of causes and effects without a fii'st cause. ^ By connecting the series of contingent things with a first and necessary cause, it ima- gines that it closes the series, while, in reality, there still remains, between this alleged first cause and the following cause, the yawning chasm which separates the necessary from the contingent, and the absolute from the relative. But even granting the cogency of the proof, it would not follow that the necessary being, whose existence it claims to establish, is the personal being which theology calls God. The teleological or physico-theological proof infers from the finality revealed in nature the existence of an intel- ligent creator. This argument has the advantage that it makes a deep impression on the mind, and the preacher is free to use it in preference to all other reasonings. But from the scientific point of view it has no value ; for (1) it passes from sensible data to something that does not fall Avithin the scope of the senses; (2) it professes to estab- lish the existence of a God who is the creator of matter ; (3) with what right, moreover, does it compare the universe to a clock or a house ? Is the world necess^ikf-rt'^f^or^ presupposing a workman ? Why, instead of b8(ng a machine begun at^ given time, could it not be an eternal reality? (4) Besides, what is finality ? Is it inherent in the things themselves ? or is not^rjtther our own caprice which confers ^ See the fourth antinomy. 462 MODERN PHILOSOPHY upon them their teleological character, according as they please us or displease us (Spinoza) ? The moral proof, which is based on the purposiveness in the moral order, on the existence of the moral law, on the phenomenon of moral conscience and the feeling of responsi- bility, is peremptory from the standpoint of practical rea- son, but from the standpoint of pure theory it shares the weakness of the teleological proof, of which it is, at bottom, merely a variation.^ In short, the critique of the faculty of knowledge does not culminate in atheism, but neither does it lead to theism ; it does not lead to materialism, nor does it infer the spirit- uality of the soul and freedom ; that is to say, its last word is the ^TTo^y] in matters of metaj^hysics. Enclosed within the magic circle of our intuitions, our concepts, our a friori Ideas, we perceive, Ave judge, we know, but we know phenomena merely, i. e., relations existing between an object absolutely unknown in itself and a thinking subject, which we know only by its phenomena, and whose essence is shrouded in eternal mystery. What we call the world is not the world in itself ; it is the world remodelled and transformed by sensibility and thought ; it is the result of the combined functions of our intellectual faculties and a something, we know not what, which arouses them ; it is the relation of two unknowns, the hypothesis of an hypothesis, the " dream of a dream." II. Critique of Practical Reason 2 Although the Critique of Pure Reason reduces us to a scepticism which is all the more absolute because it is rea- ^ The critique of monotheism, polytheism, and pantheism, is the same as that of theism. Theism erroneously subsumes an Idea of reason under a category, being ; the error of monotheism, polytheism^ and pantheism consists in applying to the same Idea the categories of quantity : unity, plurality, and totality. 2 [H. Cohen, KariVs Begriindung der Ethik, Berlin, 1877 ; E. Zeller, KANT 463 soned, proved, scientifically established, and legitimized, it would be a grave mistake to consider the sage of Koen- igsberg as a sceptic in the traditional sense, and to impute to him a weakness for the materialism of his age. Scepti- cism is the upshot of the Critique of Pure Reason ; it is not, however, the ultimatum of Kantianism. To assert the contrary is completely to misunderstand the spirit of the philosophy of Kant and the final purpose of his critique. This is by no means hostile to the moral faith and its tran- scendent object, but wholly in its favor. It is, undoubtedly, not Kant's intention to ".humiliate " reason, as Tertullian and Pascal had desired to do, but to assign to it its proper place among all our faculties, its true role in the compli- cated play of our spiritual life. Now, this place is, accord- ing to Kant, a subordinate one ; this function is regulative and modifying, not constitutive and creative. The Will, ayid not reason^ forms the hasis of our faculties and of things : that is the leading thought of Kantian philosophy. While reason becomes entangled in inevitable antinomies and involves us in doubts, the will is the ally of faith, the source, and, therefore, the natural guardian of our moral and religious beliefs. Observe that Kant in no wise denies the existence of the thing-in-itself, of the soul, and of God, but only the possibility of proving the reality of these Ideas, by means of reasoning. True, he combats spiritualistic dogmatism, but the same blow that brings it down over- throws materialism ; and though he attacks theism, he like- wise demolishes the dogmatic pretensions of the atheists. What he combats to the utmost and pitilessly destroys is the dogmatism of theoretical reason, under whatever form Ueher dns Kanthche Momlprincip, Berlin, 1880 ; J. G. Schiirman, Kantian Ethics and the Ethics of Evolution, London, 1881 ; N. Porter, Kanfs Ethics, Chicago, 1886 ; F. W. Forster, Der Entwickehmgsgang der Kantischen Ethik, etc., Berlin, 1894 ; Piiiijer, Die Religionslehre Kant's, Jena, 1874.— Tk.]. 464 MODERN PHILOSOPHY it may present itself, whether as theism or atheism, spirit- ualism or materialism ; is its assumption of authority in the system of our faculties ; is the prejudice which attributes metaphysical capacity to the understanding, isolated from the will and depending on its own resources. By way of retaliation — and here he reveals the depth of his philo- sophic faith — he concedes a certain metaphysical capacity to practical reason^ i. e., to will. Like the understanding, the will has its own character, its original forms, its particular legislation, a legislation which Kant calls " practical reason." In tliis new domain, the problems raised by the Critique of Pure Reason change in aspect ; doubts are dissipated, and uncertainties give way to practical certainty. The moral law differs essentially from physical law, as conceived by theoretical reason. Physical law is irresistible and inexorable ; the moral law does not compel, but bind ; hence it implies freedom. Though freedom cannot be proved theoretically, it is not in the least doubtful to the will : it is a postulate of practical reason, an immediate fact of the moral consciousness. ^ Here arises one of the great difhculties with which philosophy is confronted : How can we reconcile the pos- tulate of practical reason with the axiom of pure reason that every occurrence in the phenomenal order is a neces- sary effect, that the j^henomenal world is governed by an absolute determinism ? Kant, whose belief in free-will is no less ardent tlian his love of truth, cannot admit an abso- lute incompatibilit}^ between natural necessity and moral liberty. The conflict of reason and conscience, regarding freedom, can only be a seeming one ; it must be possible to resolve the antinomy without violating the rights of the intelligence or those of the will. The solution would, undoubtedly, be impossible, if the 1 Ztir Grtmdlegung der Metaplujsik der Sitten, p. 80 ; Kr'itik der praklischen Vernunft, p. 274. KANT 465 Critique of Pure Reason absoliitel}^ denied libert}-, but the fact is, it excludes freedom from the phenomenal sphere only, and not from the intelligible and transcendent world, which exists behind the phenomenon, though it is unknow- able. Theoretical reason declares : Freedom, though im- possible in the phenomenal world, is possible in the absolute order ; it is conceived as a noumenon ; it is intelligible ; and practical reason adds : it is certain. Hence, there is no real contradiction between the faculty of knowledge and of will. Our acts are determined, in so far as they occur in time and in space, indetermined and free, in so far as the source whence they spring, our intelligible character, is in- dependent of these two forms of sensibility.^ This would not be a solution if time and space were objective realities, as dogmatic philosophy conceives them. From that i^oint of view^ Spinoza is right in denying free- dom. However, as soon as we agree with criticism, that space and, above all, time are modes of seeing things, and do not affect the things themselves, determinism is reduced to a mere theory or general conception of things, a theory or conception which reason cannot repudiate without abdicating, but which by no means expresses their real essence. The Kantian solution of the problem of freedom at first sight provokes a verj^ serious objection. If the soul, as in- telligible character, does not exist in time^ if it is not a phenomenon, we can no longer subsume it under the cate- gory of causality, since the categories apply only to phe- nomena and not to " noumena." Hence it ceases to be a cause and a free cause. Nor can we apply to it the cate- gory of unity. Hence it ceases to be an individual apart from other individuals : it is identified with the universal, the eternal, and the infinite. Fichte, therefore, consistently deduces his doctrine of the absolute ego from Kantian ^ Kritik der praliischen Vernunff, pp. 225 ff. 30 466 MODERN PHILOSOPHY premises. Our philosopher, however, does not seem to have the slightest suspicion that this is the logical conclu- sion of his theory. Nay, he postulates, always in the name of practical reason, individual immortality ^ as a necessary condition of the solution of the moral problem, and the existence of a God ^ apart from the intelligible ego, as the highest guarantee of the moral order and the ultimate triumph of the good. It is true, Kant's theology is merely an appendix to his ethics, and is not to be taken very seriously. It is no longer, as in the Middle Ages, the queen of the sciences, but the humble servant of inde- pendent ethics. This personal God, afterwards postulated by the Critique of Practical Reason, forcibly reminds us of the celebrated epigram of a contemporary of our philoso- pher : "If there were no God, we should have to invent one." The real God of Kant is Freedom in the service of the ideal, or the good Will (der gute Wille).^ His conviction in this matter is most clearly expressed by the doctrine of the primacy of practical reason^^ i. e., of the ivill.^ Theoretical reason and practical reason, though not directly contradicting each other, are slightly at variance as to the most important questions of ethics and religion, the former tending to conceive liberty, God, and the absolute as ideals having no demonstrable objective existence, the latter affirming the reality of the autonomous soul, responsi- bility, immortality, and the Supreme Being. The conse- quences of this dualism would be disastrous if theoretical reason and practical reason were of equal rank ; and they ^ Krl'iik der praliischen Verniwfl, p. 201. ^ j,i^ p_ OQi. ^ Grundlegung su7' Metaphysih der Silten, p. 11 : Es ist uherall nichts ill der Welt, ja uherhaupt anrh nusser den^elbeyi zu denken moglich, was ohne Einsclirdnl'img fur f/iU Iconnte geJialten werden, ah; nllein ein Guter WiLLE. ^ Kritik der praliisrhen Verminft, p. 258. ^ Id., pp. 105 ff. KANT 467 would be still more disastrous, Avere the latter subordinated to the former. But tlie authority of practical reason is superior to that of theoretical reason, and in real life the former predominates. Hence we should, in any case, act as if it zv ere proved that we are free, that the soul is immortal, that there is a supreme judge and rewarder. In certain respects, the dualism of understanding and will is a happy circumstance. If the realities of religion, God, freedom, and the immortality of the soul, were self- evident truths, or capable of theoretical proof, we should do the good for the sake of future reward, our will would cease to be autonomous, our acts would no longer be strictly moral ; for every other motive except the categorical impera- tive of conscience and the respect which it inspires, be it friendship or even the love of God, renders the will het- eronomous, and deprives its acts of their ethical character. Moreover, religion is true only when completely identical with morality. Religion within the bounds of reason con- sists in morality, notliing more nor less. The essence of Christianity is eternal morality ; the goal of the church is the triumph of right in humanity. When the church aims at a different goal, it loses its raison d'etre} ^ Die Rdifi'wn innerlinlh der Grenzcn der blosaen Vernunft, pp. 130 ff. ; 205 ff. — The independent morcdity of the socialist P. J. Proudhon (1809- 1865) is grounded on these principles. It is based on the following proposition : " Morality must cease oO lean on theology for support, it must free itself from all so-called revealed dogmas, and base itself solely on conscience and the innate principle of justice, without re- quiring the support of the belief in God and the immortality of the soul." This doctrine of Proudhon has been reproduced and popular- ized by a weekly journal, the " Morale independante" edited by Massol, Morin, and Coignet (1865 ff.). 468 MODERN PHILOSOPHY III. Critique of Judgment^ While the Critique of Practical Meason, with its categori- cal imperative, its primacy of the conscience, and its absolute independence of morality, satisfies Kant's moral feeling and his great love of liberty, which had been shaken by the conclusions of the Critique of Pure Reason^ the philosophical instinct reasserts itself in his aesthetics and teleology, which form the subject-matter of his Cintique of Judgment, We have seen how, in the Critique of Pure Pi,eason^ he universally combines synthesis with analysis, how he solders together the heterogeneous parts of the cognitive appa- ratus: between the functions of sensibility and those of reason he discovers the intermediate function of the idea of time, which is half intuition, half category ; between a priori concepts which are diametrically opposed, he inserts intermediary categories. The same synthetic im- pLdse leads him, in his Critique of Judgment^ to bridge over the chasm which separates theoretical reason and the conscience. 2 The sesthetical and teleological sense is an intermediate faculty, a connecting link between the understanding and the will. Truth is the object of the understanding, nature and natural necessity its subject-matter. The will strives for the good ; it deals with freedom. The assthetical and teleological sense (or judgment in the narrow sense of the term) is concerned with what lies between the true and the good, between nature and liberty : we mean the beauti- ful and the purposive. Kant calls it judgment because of the analogy between its manifestations and what is called judgment in logic; like the judgment, the sense of the 1 [A. Stadler, KanCs Teleologie, etc., Berlin, 1874 ; H. Cohen, Kajifs Begriinduny der Aesthetik, Berlin, 1889; J. Goldfriedrich, Kanfs Aes- thetik, Leipsic, 1895; J. H. Tufts, The Sources and Development of KanV s Teleology, Chicago, 1892. — Tr.]. 2 Kritik der UrtJieilskraft, p. 14. KANT 469 beautiful and the teleological establishes a relation between two things which as such have nothing in common : between what ought to be and what is, between freedom and natural necessity. 1. ^Esthetics. — The a^sthetical sense diifers both from the understanding and the will. It is neither theoretical nor practical in character ; it is a phenomenon sui generis. But it has this in common with reason and will, that it rests on an essentially subjective basis. Just as reason constitutes the true, and will the good, so the sesthetical sense makes the beautiful. Beauty does not inhere in ob- jects ; it does not exist apart from the ^esthetical sense ; it is the 'product of this sense, as time and space are the products of the theoretical sense. That is beautiful which pleases (quality), which pleases all (quantity), which pleases with- out interest and without a concept (relation), and pleases necessarily (modality).^ What characterizes the beautiful and distinguishes it from the sublime, is the feeling of peace, tranquillity, or harmony which it arouses in us, in consequence of the per- fect agreement between the understanding and the imagi- nation. The sublime, on the other hand, disturbs us, agitates us, transports us. Beauty dwells in the form ; the sublime, in the disproportion between the form and the content. The beautiful calms and pacifies us ; the sublime brings disorder into our faculties ; it produces discord between the reason, which conceives the infinite, and the imagina- tion, which has its fixed limits. The emotion caused in us ])y the starry heavens, the storm, and the raging sea springs from the conflict aroused by these different phenomena between our reason, which can measure the forces of nature and the heavenly distances without being overwhelmed by the enormous figures, and our imagination, which cannot 1 Kritik der UrtJieilskraft, pp. 45 ff. 470 MODERN PHILOSOPHY follow reason into the depths of infinity. Man has a feeling of grandeur, because he himself is grand through reason. The animal remains passive in the presence of the grand spectacles of nature, because its intelligence does not rise beyond the level of its imagination. Hence we aptly say, the sublime elevates the soul (das Urhabene ist erhebend). In the feeling of the sublime, man reveals himself as a being infinite in reason, finite in imagination. Both infinite and finite : how is that possible ? Kant cannot fathom this mystery without surpassing the limits which he has pre- scribed to knowledge. 1 2. Teleology? — There are two kinds of purposiveness. The one arouses in us, immediately and without the aid of any concept, a feeling of pleasure, satisfaction, and inner harmony : this is subjective finality, which constitutes the beautiful. The other also arouses pleasure, but mediately, in consequence of an experience or an intermediate process of reasoning: this is objective finality, which constitutes the suitable {das Ziveehiuissige). Thus, a flower may be both the object of an cesthetical judgment in the artist, and of a teleological judgment in the naturalist, who has tested its value as a remedy. Only, the judgment which stamps it as beautiful is immediate and spontaneous, while that of the naturalist depends on previous experience. The Critique of Pure Reaso7i regards every phenomenon as a necessary effect, and therefore excludes purposiveness from the phenomenal world. Physics merely enumerates an infinite series of causes and effects. Teleology intro- duces between the cause and the effect, considered as the end or goal, the means, the instrumental cause. Theoreti- cally, teleology is valueless. However, we cannot avoid it so long as we apply our teleological sense to the study of nature. Unless we abandon one of our faculties, which is 1 Krdik der Urthelhkraft, pp. 97 ff. ; 399 ff. 2 /j,^ pp. 239 ff. KANT 471 as real and inevitable as reason and will, we cannot help recognizing purposiveness in the structure of the eye, the ear, and the organism in general. Though mechanism fully explains the inorganic world, the teleological view forces itself upon us when we come to consider anatomy, physiology, and biology. The antinomy of mechanism, afhrmed by the theoretical reason, and teleology, claimed by the teleological sense, is no more insoluble than that of necessity and freedom.^ Teleology is nothing but a theory concerning phenomena. It no more expresses the essence of things than mechanism. This essence is as unknowable for the Critique of Judgment as for the Critique of Pure Reason. Things-in-themselves are not in time ; they have no succession, no duration. According to mechanism, the cause and its effect, accord- ing to teleology, tlie free cause, the means, and the goal at which it aims, follow each other, i. e., they are separated in time. But time is merely an a priori form of intuition, a mode of conceiving things ; as such and apart from my thought or my theory, the cause and the effect of the mechanist, the creative agent, the means, and the goal of the teleologist, are in each other, inseparable, simultaneous. Imagine an understanding Avhich is not bound to the a priori forms of space and time like ours, a free and ab- solute intellectual intuition : such an understanding would perceive the cause, the means, and the end at one glance ; it would identify the end and the principle ; the end would not follow the efficient cause, but would be immanent in it and identical with it. Immanent teleologif^ which iden- tifies the ends of nature with tlie acting causes, is the natural solution of the antinomy of mechanism and pur- posiveness. We see that the subjectivity of time and space is the most 1 Kritik der Urtheilskraft, pp. 302 fP. 472 MODERN PHILOSOPHY original and, on the whole, the most fruitful of Kant's teachings. There is no question so subtle, no problem so obscure, as not to be illuminated by it. Space and time are the eyes of the mind, the organs which reveal to it its inexhaustible content. These organs are at the same time the boundaries of its knowledge. But in spite of this insurmountable barrier, it feels free, immortal, and divine ; and it declares its independence in the field of action. It is the mind which prescribes its laws to the phenomenal world ; it is the mind from which the moral law proceeds ; it is the mind and its judgment which make the beautiful beautiful. In short, the three Critiques culminate in ab- solute spiritualism. Kant compared his work to that of Copernicus : just as the author of the Celestial Revolutions puts the sun in the place of the earth in our planetary system, so the author of the Critic[ue places the mind in the centre of the phenomenal world and makes the latter dependent upon it. Kant's philosophy is, undoubtedly, the most remarkable and most fruitful product of modern thought. With a single exception, perhaps,^ the greatest systems which our century has produced are continuations of Kantianism. jSven those — and their number has grown during the last thirty years — who have again taken up the Anglo-French philosophy of the eighteenth century, revere the illustrious name of Immanuel Kant. 1 We mean the system of Comte, which is closely related to the French philosophy of the eighteenth century. Comte himself says, in a letter to Gustave d'Eichthal, dated December 10th, 1824 : " I have always considered Kant not only as a very powerful thinker, but also as the metaphysician who most closely approximates the positive philosophy." KANT AND GERMAN IDEALISM 473 § 63. Kant and German Idealism ^ The dogmatic Leibniz-Wolffian school,- the sceptic G. E. ScHULZE,3 ti-^e eclectic Herder,^ Jacobi ^ and Hamann,^ the exponents of religious faith, accept the challenge which Kant had hurled at all traditions. Some "inde- pendents" (Salomon Mausion,^ BxUidili,^ etc.) take ex- ception to his teachings or protest against them, although they, too, feel his influence. But the Kantian philosophy Avas eagerly welcomed, though not wholly understood, by numerous disciples, some of them (Bouterwek,^ Keug,^^ 1 [See p. 134:, note 1 ; also vol. V. of K. Fischer's History and Zeller's German Philosophy. — Tr.] 2 Eberhard (17o8-1809), professor at Halle, was its chief represen- tative. 3 1761-1833. Author of ^■Enesidemus, 1792. [If the categories can- not be applied to things-in-themselves, how can we know whether these exist or do not exist? " We can have no absolutely certain and universally valid knowledge, in philosophy, either of the existence or non-existence of things-in-themselves and their properties, or of the limits of human knowledge." Kant's critique logically culminates in scepticism. — Tr.] * 1744-1803. The theologian Herder, one of the stars of German literature, teaches a kind of Christianized Sj)inozism, in which he antici- pates the philosophy of Schelling and Schleiermacher. To the Critique of Kant he opposes his Metakritik, etc., Leipsic, 1799. He also wrote: Ideen zur Philosophie der Geschichte der Menscldieit, Riga, 1784-1791. 5 1743-1819. Complete works, 6 vols., Leipsic, 1812-25. [See Harms, Ueher die Lehre von F. 77. Jacobi, Berlin, 1876 ; L. Levj^-Bruhl, La. philosophie de Jacobi, Paris, 1894. — Tr.] 6 1730-1788. Works published by Roth, Berlin, 1821-43 ; [also by Gildemeister, 6 vols., Gotha, 1858-73]. ' 1754-1800. Maimon rejects the Kantian notion of the thing-in- itself, and approaches Fichte. [Cf. Witte, S. Maimon, Berlin, 1876.] * 1761-1808. Bardili's rational realism anticipates Hegel's logic. ^ 1766-1828. Professor at Gottingen, known especially by his Aes- thetih, Leipsic, 1806. 10 1770-1842. Kant's successor at Konigsberg, 1805, then (1809), professor at Leipsic. Entwurf eines neuen Organon der Philosophie^ 474 MODERN PHILOSOPHY Fries, ^ etc.) being original thinkers. Its chief apostles were: Schiller,^ the national poet of Germany, Rein- H0LD,3 and FiCHTE. The University of Jena became the brilliant centre of the new movement, the crucible, as it were, in which the new views were soon transformed. The original and genuine criticism occupied a position between the sensationalism of Locke, Hume, and Condillac, and the intellectualism of Leibniz. Sensationalism had declared ; All ideas and consequently all truths, to what- Meissen, 1801 ; Fundamcntalphilo^ophie, 2iid ed., 1819 ; Das S/jstem der theorethchen Pkilosophie, 3 vols., 2d ed., Konigsberg, 1819-23 ; Sysfc7n der practischen Philosophie, 3 voLs., id., 1817-19; Ilandhuch der Philo- sophie, 2 vols., Leipsic, 1820-21 ; Das allgemeine Handhuch der phUoso- phischen Wissenscha/ten, 2d ed., 5 vols., Leipsic, 1832-38. — Krug, who holds that an original a priori synthesis, not further to be explained, takes place within us between being and knoidedge, calls his system : transcendental synthetism . ^ 1773-1843. Professor at Heidelberg and Jena. Fries refers criticism to the domain of psychology, and bases it on inner observa- tion. His philosophy is a connecting link between Kantianism and the Scotch school. AVe mention the following w^ritings : Sjjstem der Phdosophie als evidenter Wissenschaft, Leipsic, 1801 ; Wissen, Glauhe und Ahndung, Jena, 1805, 3d ed., 1837; [his best known work : Neue Krltikder Vernunft, 3 vols., Heidelberg, 1807, 2d ed., 1828-31]; and many highly prized text-books. He had numerous disciples ; among them : the philosopher Apelt, the naturalist Schleiden, and the theo- logian De Wette. 2 (1759-1805). Briefe iiher cesthetische Erziehung, 1793-95; [Ueber Anmufh und Wurde, 1793 ; Ueber naive und sentiment ale Dichtung, 1795- 96, Engl. tr. in Bohn's Library. See Kuno Fischer, Schiller als Pkilo- sopli, Frankfort, 1858; 2d completely revised ed. {Schillerscliriflcn,\\\, IV), Heidelberg, 1891-92. — Tr.]. * 1758-1823. Versuch einer neuen Theorie des menschlichen Vorstel- lungsvermogens, elena, 1789 ; \^Das Fundament des pJiilosophischen Wisse7is, 1791]. Reinhold's so-called elementary theory derives the a pi'iori and a posteriori elements of knowledge from a common principle : the faculty of representation {Vorstellungsvermogen'). It anticipates the subjective idealism of Fichte, which calls this common principle the ego. KAM AND GERMAJN IDEALISM 475 ever order they may belong, are derived from the senses (and retlection) ; reason does not create them, it receives them. Intellectualism, on the other hand, had asserted: All our ideas and consei|uently all trutlis whatsoever are the product of reason. So-called outer perception is merely an elementiir}^ speculation ; the tliinking subject is wholly active, and even in cases where it imagines that it receives, it creates. Criticism agrees with sensationalism in hohhng that our ideas, without exception, are ylveii by sensation ; but, it adds, their matter or material alone is given, their form is the product of reason : in this respect intellectualism has the right on its side. In other words, it distinguishes, in every idea, a viaterial element, which is fiunished a posteriori by the senses, and a formal element, furnished a priori by thought. Ever}' science, therefore, or philosophy, consists of two parts : a piire^ rational, or speculative part, and an empirical part. Hence, criticism recognizes the partial truth of two systems and two methods ; and conse- quently repudiates the pretentious claim of either side to possess absolute trtith and to employ the only possible method. It is both idealistic and realistic, and yet, strictly speaking, neither one nor the other. But this state of equilibrium did not last long. Eeinhold soon chsturbed it with liis ehrncntary theori/,^ and Kant lived to see the triumph of absolute intellectualism, wliich, by way of reaction, led to the restoration of pure sensational- ism. He protested, as loudly as he could, against this con- ilition of things; yet it must be acknowledged that his Critiijue of Pure Heason^ as well as his other two Critiques^ contained the germs of the idealistic theories of the nine- teenth century. Under the influence of the Spinozistic system which Lessing and Herder had recently introduced into Germany, these germs soon sprouted. Kant had intimated tliat the mysterious unknown con 1 See page 474, note 3. 4'76 MODERN PHILOSOPHY cealed behind the phenomena of sense might possibly be identical with the unknown in ourselves. This simple thought, which, however, he failed to cany out, contained the philosophy of Pichte. But even if he had never advanced the hypothesis of the identity of the ego and the non-ego, his criticism would still bear a very pronounced idealistic stamp. Although it es- tablishes an independent order of tilings apart from reason, a transcendent object, which impresses our senses and fur- nishes the material for our ideas, it assigns to pure reason the highest role imaginable. Reason, the thinking subject, creates space and lime ; reason, with the materials supplied by the senses, makes, constructs, or constitutes the phenom- enon. The phenomenon is its work, if not its creation. Reason applies to phenomena the categories of relation and connects them by the tie of causality ; through the legisla- tive power of reason, phenomena become effects and causes ; and if we mean by nature^ not the totality of the things themselves, but only the sum of sensible and inner phenom- ena considered in their regular connections, then reason makes or produces nattire^ for reason prescribes to nature its laws.^ From reason, finally, are derived the Ideas of the world, God, and the absolute. If reason makes time and space, if reason determines and regulates the phenomenon, if reason constitutes nature and the universal order, what becomes of that which, according to empiricism, is given to reason ? The raw material of the phenomenon, or, what amounts to the same, of intuition and thought, the unknown quantity which occasions the difference between sound, light, smell, taste, temperature, pleasure, and pain, " something, I-know-not-what," which brings it about that a person born blind, though he may be an excellent mathematician and perfectly able to understand the laws of optics, cannot form a correct notion of light, — ^ Prolegomena, pp. 84-85. I KANT AND GERMAN IDEALISM 477 that is all that is given to us, everything else being our own creation. Given by whom ? Given by what ? By some- thing, I-know-not-what, which is called the thing-in-itself^ a transcendent object, which, consequently, cannot be known, a mysterious agent, which calls forth sensations, and co- operates in the formation of ideas, but in regard to which I have no right to affirm or to deny anything. But how, then, can you affirm that it is an agent, that it provokes sensations ? ^ The transcendent object of intuition (the thing-in-itself) is neither in space nor in time. Space and time contain phenomena only, i. e., that which appears ; and the thing-in-itself does not appear. We cannot apply to it any of the forms of the understanding ; we cannot conceive it, as Kant explicitly states,^ either as magnitude, reality, or substance. Hence we cannot conceive it as the ca2cse of our impressions, although Kant flatly contradicts himself and regards it as such.^ But if the thing-in-itself cannot be conceived either as a quantity, or as a cause, or as a reality, it cannot be considered as anything ; it is nothing, or rather it exists only in the thinking subject ; like space, time, and the categories, it is identical with the subject which conceives it.* The matter of our ideas, the transcendent substratum of the phenomena of sense, is the same as the substratum of the inner phenomena, the soul, or ego, or reason giving to itself not only the form but also the matter of its ideas. Reason not merely assists in the production of the phenomenon, it is the creator — the sole creator — of the phenomenal world. Hence it is, in the ^ This contradiction was especially pointed out by J. Sigisnmnd Beck (1761-1840), who did not, however, succeed in eliminating it from Kantianism. [Beck (Einzig mofiUclier Standpunkt aus welchem die kritisclie Philosophie beurilieilt tcerden rnuss, Riga, I79G) rejects the tiling- in-itself, and interprets the Critique in the idealistic sense. — Tr.] '^ Kritik der reinen Vernunft, p. 23i. 3 Id. * Hence the nsime, philosophij of identity. 478 MODERN PHILOSOPHY last analysis, an inconsistency of the Kantian philosophy to concede the existence of a thing-in-itself outside of and hy the side of reason, so to speak. The true consequence of the Critique of Pure Reason is the monism of the ego, or abso- lute idealism. But though the Critique of Pure Reason takes us to the threshold of panlogism, with its system and method, does not the result of the Critique of Practical Reason^ the dual- ism of the " two reasons," absolutely hinder us from cross- ing it? The speculative Kantians, with Fichte at their head, do not regard this teaching as an obstacle to their interpretation of criticism, but consider it as an additional argument in its favor. To begin with, by subordinating the theoretical reason to the practical reason, and affirming the primacy of the moral consciousness, Kant not only proclaims the dualism of the " two reasons," but also the monism of the practical reason, of which theoretical reason and the teleological judgment are mere modes or dependencies. He could not have affirmed this primacy, had he discovered absolute contra- dictions or insoluble antinomies between practical reason and theoretical reason. But such is not the case. There is a connecting link between theoretical reason and practical reason, and this connecting link is the thing-in-itself the noumenon, the intelligible order, supposed by theoretical reason, postulated and openly affirmed by the conscience. The " two reasons " would contradict each other, if one denied what the other affirms : the invisible, the ideal, the absolute. In reality, the theoretical reason does not reject the absolute ; it simply recognizes its inability to know it and to demonstrate its existence. The same may be said of freedom, which is synonymous with the absolute. What the Critique of Pure Reason does deny is liberty in the phenomenal world. It recognizes in nature nothing but the law of causality, mechanism, the determinism of KANT AND GERMAN IDEALISM 479 facts, but it conceives liberty as a prerogative of the thing- in-itself^ while maintaining the impossibility of a theoretical demonstration. The thing-in-itself may be considered as free. Now, practical reason categorically affirms the liberty of the acting subject, the freedom of the ego. Hence, the Critique of Practical Reason^ instead of contradicting the idealistic conclusions, confirms them : the ego itself is the thing-in-itself (the free thing) ; the ohjcct which seems to determine us from without, is merely the suhjcct acting within ourselves ; object and subject, being and thought, nature and mind, are identical. If the / were determined by an object-m-iYse//, the " two reasons " would absolutely contradict each other ; the ego would henceforth be a slave in theory and in practice, and moral freedom would be an inexplicable illusion. But the thing-in-itself, the thing which determines us " from without " being in reality the soul-in-itself the self-determining subject ; the ego, though determined, is free and autonomous, since it determines itself in the form of an external object. Instead of making against idealistic monism, Kant's ethics culminates in it. True, it postulates the immortality of the soul and the existence of a personal God apart from the ego. But this double affirmation is a mere accident in the system : essential to it is the affirmation of tlie absolute freedom of the ego, the doctrine of the practical absolute of the ego. Now, the ego which Kant holds to be absolutely free is not the empirical ego, the phenomenal self, the self which exists in time, but the noumenal ego, i. e., the ego raised above space and time. To speak of the immortality of an ego that does not exist in time, for which, therefore, there is no before or after, is an inconsistency similar to the doctrine that the thing-in-itself is distinct from the personal subject, an inconsistency which has no organic connection with the essence of the system. The same holds for the theistic teaching. God is undoubtedly distinct from the 480 MODERN PHILOSOPHY empirical and phenomenal ego, but he cannot be anything but the absolute ego or the intelligible ego ; otherwise there would be two absolutes. The Critique of Judgment opened up a still wider field than the other two Critiques to the most illustrious dis- ciples of Kant. They discovered in it not only a certain general tendency towards pantheism, foreign to the other writings of the master, but also theories which could not fail to culminate in pantheism. We mean his theory of the sublime, his immanent teleology^ and especially his hypothesis of an intellect capable of an immediate and comprehensive intuition of things. The first makes a God-man of man ; the second substitutes for the notion of creation that of evolution; the third makes a serious, though indirect, con- cession to dogmatic rationalism. True, Kant does not concede intellectual intuition to the human intellect, but he does not deny it to the intellect in general, and Schelling had only to generalize the Kantian hypothesis to convert the intellectual intuition into a philosophical method. Such is the relation between Kantianism and the systems of Fichte, Schelling, and Hegel. Though these three phi- losophies, or rather, these three phases of one and the same teaching, all proceed from criticism, they really make against it in so far as they occupy themselves particularly with what Kant had declared '' forbidden fruit," i. e., the abso- lute. Their common aim is to re-establish the old meta- physics, but to re-establish it upon the basis of criticism. In almost the same way the monarchies which emerged from the ruins of the Revolution restored the past upon the basis of the principles of 1789. Kant and Fichte, in his first phase, are the philosophers of the Revolution ; Schel- ling and Hegel are the philosophers of the Restoration. 1 FICHTE 481 § 64. FicMel English sensationalism and the philosophy of relativity were founded by a student of medicine and a layman. German idealism and the philosophy of the absolute come from theology. Johanx Gottlieb Fichte (1765-1814), its founder, like Schelling and Hegel, first studied for the ministry. His Versuch einer Kritik aller Offenharung (1792) won for him a professorship in Jena (1793). In 1794 he published his chief work : Gruncllage der gesammten Wissen- schaftslehre^ which was afterwards revised and republished under different titles ; and in 1796 his Grundlage des Natur- r edits. Accused of atheism, he resigned his chair (1799), and for ten years he and his young family suffered the trials attendant upon a more or less nomadic life. He died as a professor of the University of Berlin, founded in 1809. Besides the Avorks which established his fame, we mention the following: Die Bestimmung des Menschcn'^ (1800) ; Ueher das Wesen des Gelehrten und seine Erscheimmgen im Gebiete der Freiheit^ (1805); Die Amveisuvgen zum scligen Lehen oder audi die Beligionslehre * (1806) ; Rcden an die 1 [Posthumous works, edited by J. H. Fichte, 3 vols., Bonn, 1834; complete works, ed. by J. H. Fichte, 8 vols., 1845-46. Fichte'' s Popular Works, tr. by W. Smith, 4th ed,, London, 1889. A. F. Kroeger, The Science of Knowledge (translations of the Grundlage der gemmmten Wissenschaftslehre : Grundriss de/t Eigenthiimlichen der Wissenschafts- lehre; etc. etc.), London, 1889; The Science of Rights (tr. of Natur- recht), id., 1889. See also the Journal of Speculative Philosophy. On Fichte see: J. H. Lowe, Die Philosophie Fichle's, Stuttgart, 1862; Adamson, Fichte (Blackwood's Philosophical Classics), London, 1881 ; C. C. Everett, Fichte' s Science of Knowledge (Gi'iggs's PhUosophical Classics), Chicago, 1884; F. Zimmer, ,/. G. Fichfc's Religionsphilosophie, Berlin, 1878; and especially the fifth volume of K. Fischer's Historj) of Philosophy. — Tr.]. 2 \^The Vocation of Man, translated by Smith, supra. — Tri.] 3 \_The Nature of the Scholar, tr. by Smith, supra. — Tk.] * [Tr. by Smith (o.c.) under the titl.-, The Doctrine of Religion. Tr.] 31 482 MODERN PHILOSOPHY deutsche Nation (1808) ; etc. The German uprising against Napoleon was largely due to his influence. Though his thought, like that of so many contemporary Germans of the Republic and the Empire, showed two dis- tinct phases : one, rationalistic, humanitarian, and in sym- pathy with the Revolution, the other, mystical, pantheistic, and patriotic; the central notion of his system remained the same. This conception, or, let us rather say, this truth, the most exalted and at the same time the most paradoxical ever formulated by philosophy, is the monism of the moral will.^ Fichte is to Kant what Euclid-Plato is to Socrates, and to Spinoza what Euclid-Plato is to Parmenides. With Kant he affirms the moral ideal, and w ith Spinoza, the unity of the " two worlds." Hence his philosophy is a synthesis, unique in its kind for modern times, of what seemed forever irreconcilable : monism and liberty. Identity of the ethical principle and the metaphysical principle : that is the funda- mental dogma of his system. The real reality is, according to Fichte, the Good, active Reason, pure Will, the moral Ego. What the common mind regards as real is nothing but a phenomenon, a manifestation, a faithful or imperfect translation, a portrait or a caricature. The ultimate and highest principle from which we come and towards which we strive is not heing but diUi/ ; it is an ideal which is not, but which ought to be. Being as such has no value, and does not, strictly speaking, exist. The stability or immo- bility of what we call substance, substratum, or matter, is a mere appearance (Heraclitus and Plato). It is all move- ment, tendency, and will. The universe is the manifesta- 1 Although we recognize the truth of the central thought of Fichte's philosophy, we cannot accept his theory of the ahsohite erjo, which Schelling refuted, nor, particularly, his method of a priori, construc- tion, which rests on a confusion of the will and the understanding, common to most of the thinkers prior to Schopenhauer. FICHTE 483 tion of pure Will, the symbol of the moral Idea, which is the real thing-in-itself^ the real absolute.^ To philosophize is to convince one's self that leing is nothing^ that duty is everything ; it is to recognize the inanity of the phenomenal world apart from its intelligible essence ; it is to regard the objective world, not as the effect of causes foreign to our practical reason, but as the product of the ego, as the objec- tified ego. There is no science except the science of the ego or consciousness. Knowledge is neither in whole (Hume, Condillac) nor in part (Kant) the product of sensation ; it is the exclusive work, the creation^ of the ego. There is no philosophy but idealism, no method but the a j^'i^ioi'i method. Philosophy does not discover ready-made truths, or establish facts that already exist. To ^philosophize, or to know, is to produce such facts, to create such truths. ^ Speculative thought does not begin with a fact^ with something received or suffered by the ego, but with a spon- taneous actoi its creative energy (nicht Thatsaehe, sondern Thathandlung^). Its theses result from a regular succession of intellectual acts, which follow the law of opposition and reconciliation, foreshadowed by Kant in his threefold divi- sion of the categories (affirmation, negation, and limitation). The original act of the understanding, and every intellect- ual act in general, is threefold: (1) The ego posits itself; this is the act by which the ego takes possession of itself, or rather, the act by which it creates itself (for to take pos- session would presuppose an ego existing prior to the ego, or a given fact) ; (2) A non-ego is opposed to the ego, or the ego is negated ; (8) The ego and the non-ego reciprocally limit each other. As the essential elements of one and the same concrete reality, these three original acts (thesis of the ego, antithesis of the non-ego, and synthesis of the ego and non-ego) form ])ut a single act. By affirming itself as a subject, the ego 1 Complete Works, II., p. G57. 2 y^.^ y., pp. 381 fe. 8 7c/., L, 01 ff. 484 MODERN PHILOSOPHY distinguishes itself from an object whicli is not the ego ; in producing itself, it at the same time produces its opposite, its limitation : the objective world. The latter is not, as "common sense" and empiricism claim, an obstacle which the ego encounters ; it is a limitation which it gives to itself. The sensible world has the appearance of something exist- ing outside of the perceiving and thinking subject. It is an illusion which Kant himself could not wholly destroy. The limitation of the ego, the objective world, exists, but it owes its existence to the activity of the subject. Suppress the Ego, and you suppress the ivorld. Creation is reason limiting itself ; it is the will or pure thought, limiting, de- termining, or making a person of itself.^ However, Fichte is obliged to confess, the ego limits itself by an inner necessity, which it cannot escape through thought alone : for it cannot think without thinking an object ; it cannot perceive without affirming the existence of something which is not itself. Fichte recognizes with Kant, that the thing-in-itself cannot actually be reduced to thought, but he nevertheless maintains, in principle, that the thing-in-itsclf is merely the thinking principle itself. The dualism of the thinking subject and the thought object is an inevitable illusion of theoretical reason, from wdiich, considering the infirmity of thought, action can and must free us. Hence, practical activity is the real triumph of reason, the affirmation of its omnipotence. True, in reality, the will is no more successful than the understanding in completely conquering the resistance of matter; in the phenomenal world, in which thouglit holds us captive, we cannot entirely escape the determinism of facts, or fatalism. The absolute autonomy of reason is an ideal which the ego pursues, but never attains. But this very conflict between the empirical and ideal reality proves that we are destined 1 Compute T^orZ^s^ T., pp. 83 ff. ; Y., 210. ncHTE 485 for an immortal lot : it is the source of our progress, the moving principle in history.^ Fichte thus confirms the " primacy of practical reason," proclaimed by Kant. Moreover, he endeavors to insert this essential doctrine, which had been mechanically added to the Kantian system, into the very body of his philosophy. Freedom is the highest principle, the essence of things.^ It is even superior to truth, considered from the purely tlieoretical standpoint, or rather, it is the highest Truth. For that very reason it is not an abstraction, but the supreme reality. But this reality, the source of all other realities, pre- cisely because it is freedom, cannot be an empirical datum, an immediate, brutal, and fatal fact. If freedom were given, or made, or produced, as the facts of the physical order are produced, it would not be freedom. True freedom is the freedom which creates itself^ or realizes itself. Self-realiza- tion means self-development in a series of stages, or entrance into the conditions of duration and time. Now time, like space, is an a priori intuition of theoretical reason, a form of the understanding ; time is the intuitive faculty itself, or the understanding exercising its elementary and original function. And since it is, as we have just seen, the neces- sary instrument of freedom, we conclude that the under- standing, the theoretical reason, the faculty which divides the ego into subject and ol^ject, is the auxiliary of practical reason, the organ of the will, the servant of freedom. Again : Freedom realizes itself in time ; time is its means, its indispensable auxiliary. But time is the intui- tive faculty itself, the theoretical reason perceiving things siiccessivcly. Tlieoretical reason, or the understanding, is therefore the means, the organ, which practical reason em- ploys to realize itself. Instead of being, as Kant seemed to conceive it, a power foreign and therefore hostile to * Die Grundlcif/e dcs NaLurredila (^Complete Works, III.). 2 Works, I., 489. 486 MODERN PHILOSOPHY practical reason, theoretical reason thus naturally and neces- sarily becomes subject to the will ; it humbly enters the service of the moral ideal. The dualism of the "two reasons " disappears ; the understanding simply hecoines a phase in the development of Freedom ; ^ knowledge is a means, a secondary thing ; action is the principle and final goal of being. The non-ego is, in the language of Aristotle, the matter which the form needs in order to realize itself as supreme energy ; it is the limit which the ego sets itself in order to overcome it, and thus to realize its essence, freedom. Self-assertion or self-realization means struggle ; struggle presupposes an obstacle ; this obstacle is the phe- nomenal world, the world of sense and its temptations.^ Liberty, Ave said, realizes itself in time and by means of thought, i. e., by distinguishing between a subject which perceives and thinks, and an object which is perceived and thought. But this object, Avhich the magician Reason shows to the ego, the external world, the non-ego, is in turn com- posed of a multitude of egos, of personalities apart from mine. Hence, freedom does not realize itself in the separate individual (the empirical ego), but in human society. In order to become a reality, the ideal ego divides itself into a plurality of historical subjects, and realizes itself in tlie moral relations established between them, and these rela- tions are tlie source of natural, penal, and political rights. Considered apart from the individuals which realize it, the absolute or ideal ego is a mere abstraction.^ The real God is a living God, or the God-man. " I abhor all reli- gious conceptions," says Fichte, " which personify God, and regard them as unworthy of a reasonable being." And why? Because a personal being, or a subject, does not 1 Read will, and you have, word for word, the teaching of Schopen- hauer minus his pessimism. 2 Work^, v., 210. 8 Krilik aller OJcnbarung, ( Works, V.). SCHELLING 487 exist without an object that limits it. True, this limitation is the work of the subject itself ; but whether limited by itself or by something else, the subject is a limited being, and God cannot be conceived as such. God is the moral order of the world, the freedom which gradually realizes itself in it : he is nothing but that. Fichte's opposition to the idea of a personal God is the criticism of his own system, or, at least, of the subjectivistic form which it assumed under the influence of Kant, and of which it gradually divested itself under the influence of Spinoza. By denying the personality of God, he condemns both the notion of an absolute ego, as the creator of the non-ego, and the method of a priori construction. Schelling, Fichte's most brilliant chsciple, turns his atten- tion to this contradiction. § Qb. Schelling i Friedrich Wilhelm Joseph Schelling, born 1775, at Leonberg, in Wiirtemberg, received the master's degree from the University of Tubingen, Avhen seventeen years old, and continued his studies at Leipsic. In 1798 he was made professor of philosophy at Jena, where he became acquainted with Fichte and renewed his friendship with his fellow-countryman Hegel. In 1808 we find him at the University of Wiirzburg ; then he becomes the General Seci'etary of tlie Munich Academy of Plastic Arts (180G- 1 Complete works in two series, ed. by his son, 14 vols., Stuttgart and Augsburg, 185(3 ff . [Engl, translations in the Journal of Specula- tive PJiilosophy.'} French translations: Selections, hj C. IK'iiard ; S//s- tem of Transcendental Idealism, by Grimblot ; Bruno, by Ilusson. [Cf. Kosenkranz, Schelling, Pantzic, 1843] ; IMignet, Notice Mstorique sur la vie et les travaux de Schelling, Paris, 1858 ; [J. Watson, Schelling' s Trans- cendental Idealism {Griggs's Philosophical Classics), Chicago, 1882. See also Willni, o. c, vol. III.; Kuno Fischer, o. c, vol. VI. ; and R. Haym, Die romantische Schule, 1870. — Tk.J. 488 MODERN PHILOSOPHY 1820). After serving as a professor in the Universities of Erlangen, Munich, and Berlin, he died (1854) in the seventy- ninth year of his age. A precocious and fruitful ^ writer, but an inconsistent thinker, Schelling passed from Fichte to Spinoza, from Spinoza to Neo-Platonism, from Neo-Pla- tonism to J. Bohme, with whom his friend and colleague Franz Baader ^ had made him acquainted. The following works ^ belong to his Spinozistic and Neo-Platonic i^hase, which he calls his " negative philosophy " : Ideen zu einer Fhilosophie der Natur ^ (1797) ; Von der Weltseele (1798) ; System des transcendentalen Idealismas ^ (1800) ; Bruno^ odcr ilher das iiaturliclu und gottliclie Princip der Dingc (1802) ; Vorlesunr/en 'ilher die Metlwde des akademiselien Stu- diums (1803) ; Fhilosophie und Religion (1804). To his '' positive " period, which is characterized by the influence of Bohme and a more or less pronounced tendency to ortho- doxy, belong : Untersuchungen ilher das Wcsen der menscli- lichen Freiheit (1809); Ueher die Gottheiten wn Samothrahe (1816) ; Vorlesungcn ilher die Philosophic der Mythologie und OffenharvMg^ published by his son. 1. The non-ego, Fichte had said, is the unconscious pro- duct of the ego, or, what amounts to the same thing, the product of the unconscious ego. But, Schelling objects, the unconscious ego is not really the ego .; what is uncon- scious is not yet ego or subject, but both subject and object, or rather, neither one nor the other. Since the ego does not exist without the non-ego, we cannot say that it pro- duces the non-ego, without adding, conversely : the non-ego produces the ego. There is no object without a subject, — as Berkeley had previously declared, — and in this sense Fichte truly says that the subject makes the object ; but ^ At least during his earlier stage. ^ g^e § 71. 8 We mention only the most important. * In this work he cuts loose from Fichte. ^ The most consistent and systematic of his writings. SCHELLING 489 neither can there be a subject without an object. Hence the existence of the objective world is as much the condi- tion sine qua iion of the existence of the ego, as conversely. Fichte, who implicitly recognized this in his profession of pantheistic faith, regards the distinction between the empi- rical ego and the absolute ego as fundamental to his thought. But what right has he to speak of an absolute ego, when it is certain that the ego, or the subject, is never absolute, but limited, as it necessarily is, by an object ? Hence we must abandon the atitempt to make an absolute of the ego. Is the non-ego absolute ? Not at all, for it does not exist unconditionally ; it is nothing without the thinking subject. Hence we must either deny the absolute or seek it heyoncl the ego and the non-ego^ or beyond all opposition. If the absolute exists, — and how can it be otherwise ! — it can merely be the synthesis of all contraries, it can only be out- side of and heijond all conditions of existence,^ since it is itself tlie highest and first condition, the source and end of all subjective as well as of all objective existence. Consequently, we can neither say that the ego produces the non-ego (subjective idealism), nor that the non-ego pro- duces the ego (sensationalism) ; the ego and the non-ego, thought and being, are both derived from a higher ^;?'i?ic?7J)/e ichich is neither one nor the other, although it is the cause of both : a neutral principle, the indifference and identity of contraries.2 This brings us to Spinoza's point of view ; though different terms are used, we find ourselves face to face with the infinite substance and the parallelism of things emanating from it : thought (the ego) and extension (the non-ego) . Philosophy is the science of tlie absolute in its double manifestation : nature and mind. It is philosopliy of nature and transcendental philosophy, or philosophy of mind. By adding the science of nature to the science of mind, Pcheh 1 Cf. §§ 25 and 31. 2 Works, first series, vol. X., pp. 92-93. 490 MODERN PHILOSOPHY ling fills the great gap in Fichte's system. His method does not essentially differ from that of his predecessor. Schelling, it is true, recognizes that the universe is not, strictly speaking, the creation of the ego, and, consequent- ly, has an existence relatively distinct from the thinking subject. To tliink is not to produce, but to reproduce. Nature is, according to him, what it is not for Fichte : a datum or a fact. He cannot, therefore, escape the necessity of partially recognizing experience and observation; he even goes so far as to call them the soitrce of knowledge. But, the reader will please observe, though Schelling denies that the ego makes the non-ego, he denies, with equal emphasis, that the non-ego makes the ego, that sense- perception constitutes thought (Locke, Hume, Condillac). Thought, knowledge, science, cannot be derived from the non-ego and outer or inner perception; they have their source and principle in that which also constitutes the source and principle of the non-ego, in the absolute. Experience is but the starting-point of speculation, the point of de- parture in the literal sense of the term : a p)'i'ioTi specula- tion continues to be the philosophical method. Speculation operates with the facts of experience, but these facts cannot contradict a priori thought ; they must, therefore, conform to its laws, because the world of facts (the real order) and the world of thoughts (the ideal order) have a comuK^n source, the absolute, and cannot contradict each other. Nature is existing reason, mind is thinking reason. Thought must accustom itself to separating the notion of reason from the idea of mind; it must conceive an impersonal reason^ and no longer regard this formula as a contradiction in terms. We must conceive the substance of Spinoza as impersonal reason embracing the ego and the non-ego ; we must look upon things as the images of thought, and thought as the twin brother of things. There is a tliorough- going parallelism between nature and thought, and they SCHELLING 491 have a common origin: the one develops according to the same laiv as the other.^ Thought, as Fichte, inspired by Kant, had said, is inva- riably thesis, antithesis, and synthesis. Natm^e, the image of thought, is (1) matter or gravity (thesis : brutal affirma- tion of matter) ; (2) form or light (antithesis : negation of matter, principle of organization and individuation, ideal principle); (3) organized matter (synthesis of matter and form). The tluee stages of material evolution are not sep- arated in nature ; no more so than the tln'ee original acts of thought. The whole of nature is organized even in its smallest details (Leibniz), and the so-called inorganic world, the earth itself, and the heavenly bodies, are living organ- isms. If natiu-e were not alive, it could not produce life. The so-called inorganic kingdom is the vegetable kingdom in germ ; the animal kingdom is the vegetable kingdom raised to a higher power. The human biain is the climax of uni- versal organization, the last stage of organic evolution.^ Magnetism, electricity, irritability, and sensibility are mani- festations of the same force, in different degrees (correlation and equivalence of forces). Nothing is dead, nothing is stationary in nature; everything is life, movement, becoming, perpetual oscillation between two extremes, j^'^'oductivit//^ and product, polarity (electricity, magnetism, and intellect- ual life), expansion and contraction, action and reaction, struggle between two contrary and (at the same time) correlative principles,* the synthesis of which is the soul of the world.^ The philosophy of mind or transcendental philosophy ^ has for its subject-matter the evolution of psychical life, the genesis of the ego, and aims to demonstrate the parallelism of the physical and moral ordeis. 1 Works, IV., pp. 105 ff. 2 Giordano Bruno. * The Wille of Schopenhauer. * Tlie TrdXe/xoy of Heraclitus 6 Plato and the Stoica. ^ Works, 11 J., pp. 327 if. 492 MODERN PHILOSOPHY The stages in the evolution of mind are : sensation, outer and inner perception (by means of the a priori intuitions and the categories), and rational abstraction. Sensation, perception, and abstraction constitute the theoretical ego, the different degrees of the understanding. Through abso- lute abstraction, i. e., the absolute distinction which the in- telligence draws between itself and what it produces, the understanding becomes will : the theoretical ego becomes the practical ego. Like magnetism and the principle of sensibility, intelligence and will are different degrees of the same thing.^ They are merged in the notion of productivity^ or creative activity. The intellect is creative without knowing it ; its productivity is unconscious and necessary ; will is conscious of itself ; it produces with the conscious- ness of being the source of what it produces : hence the feeling of freedom accompanying its manifestations. Just as life in nature is the result of two contrary forces, so the life of the mind springs from the reciprocal action of the intellect, which posits the non-ego, and of the will, which overcomes it. These are not new forces ; they are the same forces which, after having been gravity and liglit, magnetism and electricity, irritability and sensibility, mani- fest themselves, in the sphere of mind, as intelligence and will. Their antagonism constitutes the life of the race: Jdstory. History unfolds itself in three ages which run parallel with the three stages of organic evolution, corresj)onding to the three kingdoms. The primitive age is characterized by the predominance of the fatalistic element (thesis: matter, gravity, intelligence without Avill) ; the second, which was inaugurated by the Roman people and still con- tinues, is the reaction of tlie active and voluntarj^ element against the 'Awde^rvt fatum ; the third, finally, which belongs to the future, will be the synthesis of these two principles. 1 Spinoza and Ficlite. sciiELLmG 493 Mind and nature will gradually be blended into a harmo- nious and living unity. The idea will become more and more real ; reality will become more and more ideal. In other words : the absolute, wliich is the identity of the ideal and the real, will manifest and realize itself more and more. However, as history is developed in time, and as time has no limits, history necessarily consists in infinite progress, and the realized absolute remains an ideal which cannot be definitively and completely realized. Hence if the ego were merely theoretical and practical, it could never realize the absolute ; for, reflection as well as action is necessarily subject to the law of the dualism of subject and object, of the ideal and the real. Thought, it is true, can and must rise beyond reflection and its dualism ; through the intellect- ual intuition'^ we deny the dualism of the ideal and the real, we affirm that the ego and the non-ego spiing from a higher unity in which all antitheses are blended; we rise, in a measui-e, beyond personal thought and ourselves ; we iden- tify ourselves with impersonal reason, which becomes objectified in the world and is personified in the ego. In a word, we partially return into the absolute whence we came. But even this intuition cannot completely free itself from the law of opposition ; consequently it is still a polarity, forming, on the one hand, a perceiving subject, on the other, an object perceived from without. The ego is on one side, God on the other; the dualism continues; the absolute is not a reality possessed or assimilated by the mind. The mind does not attain or realize the absolute, either as intelligence or action, but as the feeling of the beautiful in nature and in art.^ Art, religion, and revela- tion are one and the same thing, superior even to philosophy. Philosophy conceives God ; art is God. Knowledge is the ideal presence, art the real presence of the Deity.^ ^ Plato, Plotinus, St. Augustine, ami the Mystics. ^ Kant. 3 Neo-Platonism. 494 MODERN PHILOSOPHY 2. Schelling's " positive " pliilosopliy, inaugurated in 1809 by the dissertation on human freedom, accentuates the mystical element contained in the foregoing sentences. Under the influence of Bdhme, the philosopher becomes a theosophist ; the pantheist, a monotheist. He insists on the reality of the divine idea, on the personality of God, on the cardinal importance of the Trinity. However, when we peer beneath the strange forms enveloping his romanti- cism, we find that there is less change in the essence of his thought than one would suppose : this essence is monism, a form of monism, however, which, under the influence of Bohme, is clearly defined as voluntarism.'^ The absolute, the absolute indifference or identity, of " negative " philo- sophy exists, but it now receives the name applied to it by the Saxon theosophist: primitive will {iingriindliclier Willc). The foundation or first principle of the divine being, and of all being, is not thought or reason, but will striving for being and individual and personal existence, or the desire- to-he. Before being (ex-istere)^ every being, God included, desires to be. This desire or unconscious will precedes all intelligence and all conscious will. For God, the evolution by which he realizes himself, personifies himself, or mahes himself God., is eternal, and the stages through which this evolution passes (the persons or h3rpostases of the Trinity) are merged into each other ; but they are distinguished ^ The voluntaristic conception is, it is true, aheady found in the Ahhandlungen zur Eiiduterung de.f Idealismus der Wissenschaftdehre, pul)lished by Schelling in the Philo.elf it is a mere tautology to explain an act by an agent (cur opium fa cit dor mire ? — qida., etc.). As the matter, so its form ; as the agent, so the act ; as the character, so its manifestations ; as the tree, so its fruits. ^ The dualism : essence and phenomenon, ground and con- sequence, force and expression, agent and act, matter and form, is resolved in the notion of activity, the synthesis and summary of the preceding notions. This logical category corresponds to what is called nature in metaphysics-^ In short, nature is action, 2Jroduction, creation. All the treas- ures lying in her fruitful lap, she manifests, produces, and then takes back, only to reproduce and take back again, and reproduce eternally. <- Activity is synonymous with reality (IVirHichkeit), Nothing is active except what is real, and nothing is r'^al except what is active.^ Absolute rest does not exist.^ 1 It must not be forgotten that Hegel identifies logic and meta- physics, 2 Since " reason alone is real," Hegel concludes that wkcti. is real »« rational (p. 524). ^ Udirra xcopel kcu ovSev fX€V€i (§ 8). 506 MODERN PHILOSOPHY Reality, compared with mere possibility^ becomes necessity. What is real is necessarily active. Activity, reality, and necessity are synonymous. A being exists in so far as it acts, and acts in so far as it exists. Essence or reality, considered as a necessary principle of activity, becomes substance. Substance is not a substratum in the proper sense of the word, but the sum of its modes. Hence we must abandon : in theology, the idea of a God existing outside of the universe ; in psychology, the idea of a soul existing independently of the phenomena constituting the ego ; in physics, the assumption of a kind of mysterious substratum of phenomena, of an unqualified and unqualiii- able something, I-know-not-what, without extension, with- out color, without form, and yet supposed to be something real. A substance so constituted as to escape scientific ob- servation would be a pure chimera. It was owing to an illusion peculiar to dualism that the poet could say ; '' No mere created mind e'er penetrates the heart of nature." ^ Nature has no heart or inner part ; the outside of matter is matter itself ; it belongs to its essence to unfold itself, to have no inner life {das Weseii der Natur ist die Aeusser- lichheit). Substance is the totality of its modes. But it is not, on that account, as Spinozism conceives it, a purely mechanical aggregate, a mere sum ; it is a living totality, united with its modes by an organic tie : it is the cause of its modes, and its modes are the effects of the substance. These notions are not indifferent to each other ; they are correlative pairs. The cause is inseparable from its effect; the effect indis- solubly connected with its efficient cause. The latter is immanent in the former, as the soul in the body. Modes are unfolded, revealed, expressed substance ; the effect is ^ [Ins Innere der Natur dringt kein erschaffner Geist : Zu gliicklich, ^Yenn sie noch die aussre Schale weist. Haller, Die menschUchcn Tugeiuleti. — Tr.] HEGEL 607 the cause effected, explicated, manifested. There is noth- ing in the effect which is not also in the cause ; nor is there anything in the cause that does not effect, assert, or realize itself. The idea of the effect cannot be separated from the idea of the cause ; nay, every effect is, in turn, a cause, and every cause, the effect of a preceding cause. In any series of causes and effects. A, B, C, D . . ., the effect B is noth- ing but the cause A asserting itself as a cause, and becom- ing in B the cause of C, in C the cause of D, and so on. The causal series is not, as formal logic maintains, an indefinite series, a progressus in infinitum^ in which each effect produces a new effect without reacting upon the cause that produced it. The truth is, the effect B is not only the cause of C, but also the cause of A. In short, A would not be a cause unless it effected B ; hence it is owing to B, or because of B, that A is a cause ; hence B is not only the effect, but also the cause of the cause A. By a neces- sary reaction, every effect is the cause of its cause, and every cause the effect of its effect. Rain, for example, is a cause of moisture, and moisture, in tiu*n, a cause of rain; or again : The character of a people depends on their form of government, but the form of their government also depends on the character of the people. Hence, since the effect is not fatally pre-determined by its cause, but reacts on it, the causal series in nature is not a straight line pro- longed to infinity, but a curved line which returns to its starting-point, i. e., a circle. The notion of a rectilinear series is a vague and indefinite conception ; the idea of the circle is exact and clearly defined, a finished whole {abso- lutum). This reaction of the effect upon the cause {reciproccd action., Wechsehvirkung) enhances the importance of the effect, and gives it the character of freedom, which it lacks in the system of Spinoza. According to this philosopher, the effect necessarily depends upon the pre-existing cause : 508 MODEKN PHILOSOPHY in reality, however, it is an effect only in a certain measure^ and is but relatively determined. There is neither in the beginning, nor in the middle, nor in the end of the causal series, a cause distinct from all the rest, and absolute with reference to the others. The absolute is not to be found in any particular j)art of the causal chain ; it resides in the sum-total of the j^articular and relative causes. The latter are not so many slaves following the triumphal chariot of a first cause which excludes all other causality, and with regard to which the relative causes are as nothing; but each cause takes part in the absolute. Each is relatively absolute, none is absolutely absolute. No one has an exclusive claim to omnipotence ; the sum of individual energies, or, to express it still more clearly, everything that exists through causal power, constitutes all existing power. In reciprocal action, the two spheres into which being is divided when it becomes essence and phenomenon, are reunited and thus become logical totality. 3. The Notion^ or Subjective^ Ohjective^ and AhsoliUe Totality ^ Outside of totality, none of the ideas thus far evolved has reality. A quality, a quantity, a force, or a cause, is nothing apart from the whole in which it is produced. Nothing in nature exists in isolation ; nor can anything in the domain of thought lay claim to autonomy. Thw be- longs only to the categories taken in their totality. Lib- erty is found in the whole alone. Hence in logical totality or the notion {Begriff)^ being and essence return into themselves. 1 Locj'ic, vol. III. ; EncycL, §§ 160 ff. '^ Hegel regards Begrijf as synonymous with Inhegriff, whole, totality. HEGEL 509 The idea of totality is divided into subjective totality (the notion proper) and objective totality. The essential elements of the idea of life : essence, phe- nomenon, and reciprocal action, reappear in the concept of snbjective totality or notion, as universality, 'particularity , and individuality. In the judgment^ which is thought or the subject in action, universality and individuality, generality and particularity, have the appearance of being distinct and separate, while in reality the judgment is merely the affirmation of their identity. When I say that man is mortal, or that Paul is mortal, I affirm that the character- istic common to all created beings, mortality, belongs to the particular being (man), and that the individual Paul, in turn, as a mortal being, is identical with the univer- sality of creatures. In so far as the judgment affirms the identity of the universal and the individual, of the general and the particular, it is contradictory. The solution of the contradiction is found in reasoning, or the syllogism. The universal or general notion is unfolded in the major prem- ise, the individual notion in the conclusion ; and the minor premise, which is the connecting link between the major premise and the conclusion, expresses their identity. The subjective notion is a form without matter, a con- tainer without a content. It exists, in principle, as a goal or final cause, but does not exist in reality. Hence its ten- dency to objectify itself ; it is the eternal source of life in nature and of progress in history. The objectified notion is the universe, the objective wliole, or objects. The general, the particular, and the individual are successively objec- tified in meclwMism (simple external juxtaposition of objects), in chemism (mutual penetration of objects), and in organism (totality-unity). However, a notion wliicli is no longer a notion, thought which has become body, is again contradictory. Just as thought is not made to remain empty, but to be filled with 510 MODERN PHILOSOPHY an ol)jective content ; so, too, the world, or tlie whole of | things, is not made to remain a stranger to consciousness,, but to be thought or understood. The subjective notion i is a container with a content ; the universe which is uncon- scious of itself is a content without a container. The lat- ter contradiction is abolished by the interpenetration of the two spheres in the absolute Idea, which, from the theoretical slandp(nnt, is called Truths and from the prac- tical standpoint, the Good : this is the highest category and the last term in the development of being. To sum up : Being is becoming, development. The con- tradiction inherent in being is the principle or impul- sive force of development. Being, self-expansion (self- unfolding), and self-concentration (the understanding of self), constitute the unchanging stages in tlie process. Quality, quantity, measure ; essence and phenomenon, sub- stantiality and causality, reciprocal action ; subjectivity, objectivity, absolute : these are the serial stages of being. Knowing this principle, this process, and these stages, we know a priori the order followed in tlie creations of nature (expanded reason) and of onind (concentrated and comprehended reason). II. Phaosophy of Nature 1. The Inorganic World Creative thought, like the reproductive thought of man, begins with the most abstract, the most vague, and the most intangible : with space and matter. After passing through a long line of development it culminates in the most concrete, the most perfect, the most accomplished: the human organism. ^ Encyclopedia, §§ 245 ff. — We shall consider, in the following resume oi the PhilosopJnj of Nature, the changes (which were not very important) to which it was snbjected by the school. HEGEL 511 Like heing^ the first notion in logic, space exists and does not exist ; matter is something and nothing. This contradiction is tlie very principle of physical evolution, the spring which sets it in motion; it is reconciled in movement^ which divides matter into separate unities (Filrsichsein) and forms the heavenly system of them. The formation of heavenly bodies is, as it were, the first step taken hy nature on the path of individuation. The individualizing tendency, which runs througli nature like a mighty desire, manifests itself as attraction. Universal gravitation is the ideal unity whence all things spring and whither they tend, affirming itself in the midst of their separation. It is the individuality, the soul, the cement of the world; it makes an organism, a living unity (tmiversicm) of the world. Primitive and formless matter, the common source of the heavenly bodies, corresponds to what logic calls indetermi- nate being. The distril)ution of this matter, its organiza- tion into a sidereal world, corresponds to the categories of quantity. Gravitation, at last, realizes the idea of pro- portion. The astronomical cosmos is an elementary society which anticipates human society. But the laws which govern it are, as yet, merely mechanical laws; the relations which the stars sustain to each other are summed up in the law of attraction. Hence the science which considers this primary phase of being, astronomy, deals with the dimensions of the stars, their distances, their external relations, rather than with their essential qualities, their composition, and their physiology. 2. Chemism A second evolution leads to the qualitative differentiation of matter. The original state of indifference is followed by a variety of agencies (light, electricity, heat), by the 512 MODERN PHILOSOPHY reciprocal action of elements, hy the inner process of oppo- sition and reconciliation, separation and combination, polar- ity and union, which form the subject-matter of physics and chemistry. Sidereal motion affects only the surface of bodies ; chem- ism is an inner transformation, a change not only of place, but of essence, a prelude to tliat ultimate transformation of " substance " into "subject," of matter into mind, of being into consciousness, of necessity into freedom, which is the final goal of creation. Nothing in the original fl.ow of things resembles individ- uality ; nothing is stable, fixed, or concentrated. But nature soon returns into itself. Just as in logic pure thought returns into itself and forms a circle or totality {Begriff\ so in nature, the realization of logic, the chemical process returns into itself at a certain point and forms those centralized wholes which we call organisms, living beings. 3. The Organic World The appearance of life is wholly spontaneous, and needs no deus ex rMichina to explain it. It is the effect of the same higher and immanent power which, as attraction and affinity, separated the stellar groups and the elements of chemism. Surely, mechanism alone cannot produce it; and if matter were nothing but matter, the course of its transformations w^ould forever be in the straight line and centrifugal. But beneath the physical process the evolu- tion of the Idea takes place, which is the final goal of things, only because it is also their creative principle. The eartli itself is a kind of organism, a crude outline of the masterpiece which nature tends to realize. In this sense, Schelling and his school liave a right to speak of the soul of the celestial Inxlies, of the life of the earth. This life has its vicissitudes, its revolutions, and its liistorj^, the HEGEL 618 subject-matter of geology, and though it gradually dimin- ishes, it does so merely to become the inexhaustible source of new, truly organic and individual life. From the ashes of the terrestrial organism arises the veg- etable kingdom. But the plant itself is, as yet, merely an imperfect organism, a kind of association or federation, the members of which are more or less autonomous individuals. Individuality proper is realized only in the animal king- dom. The animal is, decidedly, an indivisible whole, whose parts are really mcmhers, i. e., servants of the central unity. It asserts its individuality by constant assimilation, respir- ation, and locomotion. It is endowed with sensibility, na}', even with inner heat and voice in its most perfect represen- tatives. However, there are insensible transitions here. As the inorganic kingdom is connected with the vegetable kingdom by astral individualities and crystallizations ; so the vegetable kingdom passes into the animal kingdom in the zoophyte. Animals are developed by degrees. The same idea, the same fundamental plan, more and more perfectly executed, runs through crustaceans, mollusks, insects, fishes, reptiles, and mammals. Finally, in the human organism, the most perfect animal form, the creative idea is reflected in all its fulness. Here it stops. In the material realm it produces nothing more perfect. We say, in the material realm, for instead of being exhausted in the creation of man, the creative idea saves its most precious treasures until it reaches the sphere of m.ind^ i. e., humanity. Ill, Philosophy of Mind 1. The Suhjectwe Mind^ or the Individual Man is essentially mind, i. e., consciousness and freedom. But on emerging from the hands of nature he is so only in ])rinciple. The mind, like nature, is subject to the law of development. Consciousness and freedom do not exist at 514 MODERN PHILOSOPHY the dawn of individual or generic life ; they are the pro- ducts of the evolution called history. The individual in the state of nature is governed by blind instinct, by brutal passions, and by that egoism which characterizes animal life. But as reason develops, he recognizes others as his equals ; he becomes persuaded that reason, freedom, spirituality — these terms are synon- ymous — are not his exclusive property, but the common possession of all ; he henceforth ceases to claim them as his exclusive privilege. The freedom of his fellow-creatures becomes the law, the bridle, the limit, of his own freedom. By giving way to this power, which is higher than the indi- vidual, the subjective mind yields to — 2. The Oljcctive Mind., or Society ^ The blind forces manifested in the state of nature, e. g., the instinct for the propagation of species and the instinct for revenge, continue, but change their form. Henceforth they become marriage and legal punishment: regulated, disciplined instincts, ennobled by the law. The objective mind first manifests itself in the form of right., which is freedom conceded and guaranteed to all. The individual who is recognized as free is a person. The personality realizes and asserts itself through property. Each legal person has, by virtue of his free activity, tlie right to possess, and, consequently, also the right to trans- fer his property. This transference takes place in the form of a contract. The contract is the State in embryo. Right appears in the fulness of its power, only when individual caprice opposes the general or legal will (the objective mind). The conflict between the individual will and the legal will gives rise to wrong (i. e., the un-right, Unrecht^ the 1 Encyclopedia, §§ 482 fP. HEGEL 515 negation of right). But though denied by the individual, right remains right, the will of all. Temporarily defeated, it triumphs in the form of penalty. Injustice, wrong- doing, and crime thus merely serve to bring out the power of justice, and to prove that reason and right are superior to individual caprice. Punishment inflicted by hiw is not a chastisement or correction, but a just retribu- tion ; it is not a means, but an end. Right rights itself, justice justifies itself, and the penitent is the involuntary instrument of its glorification. Capital punishment is no more than just, and should be maintained. But is it not absurd to attempt to correct an evil-doer by killing him ? This objection, which is too common in our times, rests, as Hegel holds, upon a false notion of legal punishment, the object of which is not the reform of the individual but the solemn afiirmation of the violated principle.^ There is truth in the objection that the juridical view is one-sided and extreme. The jurist considers only the law and its fulfilment, without regard to the inner motive of the legal act. Now the individual maj^ in all respects, conform to the prescriptions of the law, he may be per- fectly honorable in his outer life, and yet the general will may not be his will and the true motive of his acts. Hence, in spite of the semblance of conformity, we find a hidden but quite real antagonism between the subjective mind and the objective mind. This antagonism must disappear, this impersonal will, which is called right, justice, must become the personal will of the individual, the inner law of liis acts ; legality must become morality ; or, rather, to use a Hegelian phrase, the objective mind must become a suljject. Morality is the legality of the heart, the law which is identified with the will of the individual. In the moral 1 It was as a consistent Hegelian that the late M. V^ra, in his capacity as a depute, defended capital punishment. 516 MODERN PHILOSOPHY sphere the code becomes moral laiu^ conscience^ the idea of the good. Morality inquires not only into the act as such, but into the spirit which dictates it. The legal sphere regulates the material interests of life, without reaching the conscience ; it fashions the will according to a certain type ; material interest is its highest goal. Morality aims higher : it subordinates the useful to the good. Morality is realized in a number of institutions, which aim to unite the individual wills in the common service of the idea. The fundamental moral institution, the basis of all the rest, is marriage, the family. On this institution rest civil society and the State. Since the State cannot exist without the fauiily, it follows that marriage is a sacred duty and should be primarily and chiefly based on the con- sciousness of duty, or reason. It is a moral act, only in case it is contracted with a view to society and the State. Otherwise it is almost equivalent to concubinage. From this standpoint also we must consider the question of divorce. Divorce would be justifiable, only in case matri- mony were merely a matter of sentiment. Rational mo- rality condemns it in principle, and cannot tolerate it in practice except in exceptional cases provided for by the law. The holiness of marriage and the lionor of corpora- tions constitute the indispensable basis of society and the State, and the source of a people's prosperity ; prostitution and individual egoism are an infallible cause of decadence. Civil society, grounded on the family, is not yet the State. Its aim is the protection of individual interests. Hence the particularism which prevails in smaller coun- tries where civil society and the State are identical, and which disappears with the formation of great united States. The State differs from civil society in that it no longer solely pursues the good of the individuals, but aims at the realization of the idea, for which it does not hesitate HEGEL 517 to sacrifice private interests. The egoism and particu- larism which prevail in the community are here counter- balanced and corrected. The State is the kingdom of the idea, of the universal, of the ohjectivc mind, the goal, of which the family and civil society are merely the means. The republic is not, according to Hegel, the most perfect form of government. Ultimately resting upon the confu- sion of civil society and the State, it exaggerates the im- portance and the role of the individual. The republics of antiquity were superseded by dictatorships, because they sacrificed the idea to the individual, the family, and the caste. In the Greek Tyranny and Roman Csesarism sover- eign reason itself condemns the radical vice of the repub- lican, democratic, and aristocratic forms of government. The monarchy is the normal political form. In the free and sovereign action of a unipersonal ruler the national idea finds its adequate expression. The State is nothing ]jut an abstraction unless personified in a monarch, — the depositary of its power, its political traditions, and the idea which it is called upon to realize. The prince is the State made man, impersonal reason become conscious reason, the general will become personal Avill. That is, according to our philosopher, the true meaning of the motto of Louis XIV. : V^tat c'est moi. Though Hegel condemns political liberalism, he favors natiomd liberalism and the principle of nationality. From the Utilitarian standpoint of civil society, there may be, at best, a union or confederation of heterogeneous elements. Switzerland is an example of such a federation. But State means nationality, and nationality means unity of language, religion, customs, and ideas. The State which incorporates a people absolutely different from its own, and, against their will, fastens upon tliem an odious yoke, commits a crime against nature. In such a case, and onlj- then, is 518 MODERN PHILOSOPHY opposition, or even rebellion, legitimate. A political com- munity is impossible without a communion of ideas. Here, however, a distinction must be made. Annexation is not a crime that justifies rebellion unless the annexed nation represents an idea which is as great, fruitful, and viable as the idea represented by the conquering people. There are nationalities which represent no idea and have lost their raison d'etre. Such nations are to be condemned. The Bretons in France and the Basques in France and Spain belong to this class. In spite of appearances to the contrary, the most vigor- ous people, the State representing the most viable idea, always succeeds in gaining the mastery. History is merely an incessant struggle between States of the past and those of the future. The idea of the State is gradually realized by means of such defeats and victories. The historical States are the temporary forms in which it appears, and which it discards when time has worn them out, only to assume new forms. Since the absolute is not restricted to a particular existence, but is always found in the whole, we cannot say that the ideal State is anywhere. The ideal State is everywhere and nowhere : everywhere, because it tends to realize itself in historical States ; nowhere, for as an ideal, it is a problem to be solved by the future. His- tory is the progressive solution of the political problem. Every nation adds its stone to the building of the ideal State, but each people also has its original sin, which brings it into opposition with the idea, and sooner or later com- passes its ruin. Each State represents the ideal from a certain side ; none realizes it in its fulness ; none, therefore, is immortal. Like the logical notions, which are absorbed by a more powerful rival, and by virtue of the same law, the nations, one after another, succumb to each other, and transmit to their successors, in a more developed and en- larged form, the political idea of which they have been the HEGEL 519 depositaries, the civilization of which they have been the guardians. This passing of the civilization of one people to another constitutes the dialectics of history : an expression which is not taken figuratively by Hegel. Logic or dialectics is the evolution of reason in intUvidual thought ; the dialectics of history is tlie development of tlie same reason on the world's stage. One and the same principle is unfolded in different environments, but according to an identical law. In pure logic, abstract ideas succeeded each other on the stage of thought and then disappeared, only to be followed by more comprehensive and concrete ideas. In the logic of nature, objectified ideas, material organisms, succeeded each other and formed an ascending scale, thereby realizing, with increasing perfection, the ideal type of physical crea- tions. In the logic of history, ideas, again, become incar- nated in nature, and invisibly weave the web of human destinies. Whether these ideas unfold themselves beneath the spiritual gaze of the philosopher, or whether they suc- ceed each other in the form of bodies, or become incorpo- rated in historical nations, they are always the same, and their order of succession is invariable. Reason is the innermost substance of history, which is a logic in action. In the eyes of the superficial historian, empires rise, flour- ish, and decline, peoples struggle, and armies destroy each other. But behind these nations and their armies are the principles they represent ; behind the ram^Darts and the batteries ideas antagonize each other. War, like the death penalty, has changed in aspect. With the advance of military art and civilization its cruelties are lessened. But in a tempered and modified form, it will continue as one of the indispensable means of political progress. It is the boast of our times that we see it in its true light, and no longer regard it as the passing satis- faction of the caprice of a sovereign, but as an inevitable 520 MODERN riilLOSOPHY crisis in the development of the idea. True, legitimate^ necessary war is the war for ideas, war in the service of reason, as the nineteenth century has learned to wage it. Not that antiquity and the Middle Ages did not battle for ideas ; but they were not yet conscious of the moral essence of war. The ideas formerly collided with each other, like blind forces ; the modern world is conscious of the cause for which it is shedding its blood. Formerly the conflict was one between passions ; now it is a battle for principle. The victorious State is truer, nearer to the ideal State, better, in a word, than the vanquished State. The very fact that it has triumphed proves this : its triumph is the con- demnation of the principle represented by the vanquished ; it is the judgment of God. Thus interpreted, history resembles a series of divine reprisals directed against everything that is finite, one-sided, and incomplete; it is an eternal dies ii^ae^ which nothing earthly can escape. There is, in every epoch, a people in whom mind is more completely incarnated tlian in the rest, and who march in the front rank of universal civilization. That is, the God of history has successively '-'- chosen " the Egyptians, the Assyrians, the Greeks, the Romans, and the French. The national minds are grouped around the infinite Mind of which history is the temple, and, one after another, become its privileged organs. So the archangels surround the throne of the Eternal. The three phases of every evolution : being, expansion, and concentration, recur in the three great epochs of history. In the Oriental monarchies, the State personified in the sovereign dominates the individual to the extent of anni- hilating him. What does the Ocean care for the waves playing on its surface ? In the States of Greece, Asiatic sluggishness is followed by political life and its fruitful conflicts ; the absolute mon- archy is superseded by the republic. Here individuals are HEGEL 521 no longer mere modes with which the substance of the State has nothing to do, but integral j)arts of a whole, which exists only through them ; as such they have a feeling of their importance, and appreciate that the State needs their co- operation. The classical republics last as long as the indi- vidual elements and the State remain in equilibrium. They are imperilled as soon as the demagogue's regime substitutes for the national interest the selfish interests of individual ambition. The Csesarean reaction forces the rebellious in- dividual into obedience ; the habitable world is conquered ; the most diverse nations are tlnown into one and the same mould and reduced to an inert and powerless mass. The equilibrium between the State and the individual is restored in the Christian and parliamentary monarchy, as the best example of which Hegel regards the English con- stitution. ^ 3. The Ahsolutc Mind^ However perfect the moral edifice called the State may be, it is not the highest goal whither the evolution of the Idea tends ; and political life, though full of passion and intelligence, is not the climax of spiritual activity. Free- dom is the essence of mind ; independence is its life. Now, in spite of the contrary assertions of political liberal- ism, even tlie most perfect State cannot realize this. Whether it be a republic, a constitutional or an absolute monarchy, an aristocracy or a democracy, it does not cease to be a State, an external, armed, armored power, a kind of prison in which what is essentially infinite is deprived of its vital element. Mind eannot unconditionally subject itself to anything but rnind. Not finding in political life the 1 We ought to add that what influenced Hegel's judgment was not the parliamentarism, but the conservatism of the English constitution. 2 Encyclopedia, §§ 553 ff. See also Hegel's lectures on JEstheticSj the Philosophy of Relifjion, and the Ili.slonj of Philosophy. 522 MODERN PHILOSOPHY supreme satisfaction which it seeks, it rises beyond it into the free realms of art^ religion^ and science. Does that mean that the mind, in order to reahze its destiny, shall destroy the ladder by which it rose ; shall it overturn the State, society, and the family ? Far from it. Indeed, the creations of art, the religious institutions, the works of science, are possible only under the auspices of a strong State and under the protection of a firmly established government. The artist, the Christian, and the philosopher can no more do without society and the State than the vegetable and animal can exist without the mineral king- dom. So, too, the Idea, whether it operates in the form of nature or of mind, never destroys its creations ; it develops and perfects them, and even though their preservation may seem useless to us, it keeps the first-fruits of its labors in- tact. Nature, in which everything appears to be in a state of endless destruction and revolution, is eminently preser- vative : the mineral kingdom continues to exist alongside of the vegetable kingdom ; the vegetable kingdom, along- side of the animal kingdom ; and in the animal kingdom the most elementary and most unfinished types exist along- side of the most perfect types : nature preserves them and uses them as a kind of ^^edestal for her masterpiece. More- over, the higher creations are possible only because those which precede them endure. The mineral kingdom gives life to the vegetable kingdom; the animal lives on the vegetable or on the animal inferior to it; finally, plants and animals nourish man, who cannot live without them. The same is true of the creations of the mind : from the depths of the soul arises the demand for liberty ; from the fact that liberty is claimed by all, grow right, property, and the penal law ; upon the solid foundation of right the moral institutions, the family, society, and the State, are established. All these developments are closely connected w^ith each other, and each exists only through the instru- HEGEL 523 mentality of the others. Take away one of the foundation- stones, and the entire universal edilice crumbles to pieces. The higher stories of this structure presuppose the perfect stability of the lower ones. Man was, first of all, an individual (subjective mind) shut up in his native egoism; then, emerging from him- self and recognizing himself in other men, he formed a community, society, and State (objective mind); finally, returning into himself, he finds at the bottom of his being the ideal of art or the beautiful, the religious ideal or God, the philosophical ideal or truth, and in the realization of this threefold ideal, the supreme independence to which he aspires : he becomes absolute mi7id. In art^ the mind enjoys by anticipation the victory over the external world which science reserves for it. The thought of the artist and his object, the human soul and the infinite, become identified; heaven descends into the soul, and the soul is carried heavenward. Genius is the breath of God, afflatus clivinus. Religion reacts against the pantheism anticipated by art, and shows us in God the transcendent Being, whom the genius of man cannot reach. By proclaiming the dualism of the infinite and the finite, religion is, in appearance, a relapse, a kind of return of the mind to the external yoke ; in reality, however, it is a necessary crisis of the mind, which develops its forces and brings it nearer to God, in struggling beneath the yoke. That it is an evolution may be seen from the fact that Christianity itself, its most per- fect form, proclaims the unity of the finite and the infinite in Jesus Christ, and thus anticipates the highest develop- ment of the mind: philosoijhy. Philosophy realizes what art and the Christian dogma foreshadow. Art and religious faith spring from feeling and imagination ; science is the triumph of pure reason, the apotheosis of mind. By understanding the world, the 524 MODERN PHILOSOPHY mind frees itself from it. Nature and its forces, the State and its institutions, which but lately seemed like a pitiless Fate, change in appearance so soon as the mind recognizes in nature the works of reason, i. e., its own works, and regards social and political institutions as the reflection of the moral authority dwelling in itself. If nature, law, right. State, represent different forms of mind (objective mind), all these barriers fall away ; if everything that is real is found to be rational, reason has no other law except itself. On this summit of universal life, the ego and the world are forever united. In conclusion, we shall summarize Hegel's philosophy of art, religion, and philosophy, especially the first, which has not been surpassed. 1. Art is the anticipated triumph of mind over matter; it is the idea penetrating matter and transforming it after its image. But the matter which the idea employs to incor- porate itself is a more or less docile or rebellious servant ; hence the different forms of art, the fine arts. In architecture^ the elementary stage of art, idea and form are quite distinct ; the idea cannot as yet wholly con- quer the matter which it employs, and the matter remains rebellious. Architecture is merely a symbolic art, in which the form suggests the idea without directly expressing it. The pyramid, the pagoda, the Greek temple, the Christian cathedral, are admirable symbols, but the distance between these edifices and the idea which they symbolize is as great " as that between lieaven and earth." Moreover, the ma- terials of architecture are the most material in the physical world. This art is to sculpture, painting, and music, what minerals are to vegetables and animals. Resembling the astronomical universe in its gigantic proportions and over- whelming majesty, it expresses solemnity, austerity, mute grandeur, the unalterable repose of force, the immovable statu, quo of the infinite ; but it is incapable of expressing HEGEL 525 the thousand shades of life, the infinitely varied beauties of reality. The dualism of form and idea, which characterizes archi- tecture, tends to disappear in sculioturc. The art of the sculptor has this in common with architecture : like its elder sister, it employs gross matter, marble, brass ; but it is much more capable of transforming and spiritualizing them. In the purely symbolical work of the architect, there are details and accessories which in no wise assist in expressing the idea ; in the statue, nothing is indifferent, everything is in the service of the idea of which it is the direct expression, the immediate revelation. But the statue is incapable of representing the soul itself as revealed in the eye. This advance is made in painting. The matter employed by painting is somewhat less ma- terial than that of sculpture and architecture ; it is no longer the three-dimensional body, but the plane surface. Depth is reduced to a mere appearance, produced by per- spective, spiritualized. However, painting can express only a moment of life, a moment which it is obliged to stereotype and consequently to materialize; the idea is still bound to matter and extension. Owing to this common characteristic, architecture, sculpture, and painting, together form objective art. Hence, the}^ are inseparable ; they are combined in a thousand different Vv^ays. These first three external, visible, material forms of art are superseded by subjective^ invisible, immaterial art, or music. Music is a spiritualistic art, the art which can, with thrilling truth, reproduce the innermost essence of the human soul, the infinite shades of feeling. The direct opposite of architecture, sculpture, and painting, it, too, is an incomplete art. There can be nothing extreme in per- fect art ; it is the synthesis of all contraries, the harmoni- ous union of the world of music and the world of objective art. This art of arts is foetrii. 526 MODERN PHILOSOPHY Poetry is art endowed with speech, the art which can say everything, express everything, and create everything anew, the universal art. Sculpture, like architecture, employs matter in its grossest form, but it spiritualizes marble ; it gives life and intelligence to this block of which architecture can merely make a more or less eloquent symbol. So, too, poetry and music both employ sound, but in music this is vague and indefinite like the feeling which expresses it. In the service of the poet it becomes articulate and definite sound, a word, language. Music makes a symbol of sound, — a piece of music, like an edifice, is susceptible of the most diverse interpretations, — poetry wholly subordinates it to the idea. Architec- ture contents itself with suggesting the Divinity who reigns beyond the stars ; sculpture brings him down upon the earth. Music localizes the infinite in feeling ; poetry assigns to it the boundless realm which of right belongs to it : nature and history. It is all-powerful and inexhaust> ible, like the God who inspires the poet. Sculpture and poetry, on the one hand, architecture and music, on the other, are to art what pantheism and theism are to religious thought. Architecture and music show the traces of the theistic idea ; sculpture and poetry, which make the ideal descend into the real, are pantheistic arts. Hence it comes that architecture and music are the faith- ful followers of religion; while sculpture, painting, and poetry, which are also enrolled in the service of religious faith, do not serve it so submissively. Sculpture is pagan ; and it was owing to its pantheism that images of God Avere condemned by Mosaism and rigorous Protestantism. Po- etry, on the other hand, celebrated its great triumphs outside of the domain of religion. Shakespeare, Molifere, Goethe, and Byron are no more Christians than Sophocles, Pindar, and Euripides. Modern religious poetry seems to be afflicted with barrenness. It is because great poetry is so HEGEL 527 intimate a union of divine and human elements that the dogma of divine transcendency is actually cancelled by it. The epitome and quintessence of all the arts, poetry constructs, sculptures, designs, paints, sings; it is archi- tecture, sculpture, painting, and music, and these diverse forms which it can successively assume are again found in what we call its genres (^Gatttingsunterschiede). Corresponding to objective art, represented by architec- ture, sculpture, and painting, we have e2nc poetry^ which is to poetry what the pyramid is to art. The epic rep- resents the childhood of poetry. It is garrulous, ornate, full of the marvellous, like the imagination of the cliild, indefinitely long, like the first years of life. Lyric poetry corresponds to music. The epic, like the objective arts, loves to paint nature and its wonders, his- tory and its glories ; lyric poetry falls back upon the invis- ible world, no less vast than the other, called the human soul. It is, therefore, an extreme and incomplete class. The perfect genre^ which reconciles the two worlds, the poetry of poetry, is dramatic poetry. The drama, which flourishes only among the most civilized peoples, repro- duces history, nature, and the human soul with its pas- sions, emotions, and conflicts. Art has not only its different forms, it has also, like each of its forms, its historical development in three epochs. Oriental art is essentially symbolical. It delights in alle- gory and parables. Unlike the Greek masterpieces, which are self-explanatory, its products must be interpreted, and may be interpreted differently. It is still powerless to overcome matter, and the feeling of this weakness reveals itself in all its works. Despising form, finish, and detail, it is fond of caricature, exaggerations, and the colossal, and, in all its creations, betrays its predilection for the infinite and incommensurable. 528 MODERN PHILOSOPHY In Greek art, symbolism is superseded by direct expres- sion; the whole idea descends into the form. But even the sublime and almost superhuman perfection of this art is extreme and imperfect. The idea so comj)letely j)enetrates the matter as to be, ultimately, indistinguishable from it; it is sacrificed to outward form and physical beauty. This defect, which is no less signal than the formless spiritualism of Asiatic art, is corrected in Christian art. Christianity recalls art from the visible world, in which it had lost itself, to the ideal sphere, its true home. Under the influence of the Gospel, the idea of the beautiful is spiritualized, the adoration of physical beauty makes way for the worship of moral beauty, purity, and holiness ; the worship of the Virgin follows the cultus of Venus. Chris- tian or romantic art does not exclude physical beauty, but subordinates it to transcendent beauty. Now, the material form is inadequate to the moral ideal. The most finished masterpieces cannot satisfy the Christian artist. The Virgin of whom he dreams, the eternal dwell- ing-places which his spiritual eye perceives, the heavenly music whose harmonies his soul enjoys, the divine life which he desires to portray, his ideal^ in a Avord, is still more beautiful ; so beautiful, indeed, that neither burin, nor brush, nor bow, nor pen, nor anything material can express it. Hence Christian art, despairing of its j)owers, finally relapses into that contempt for form and that exces- sive spiritualism which is both the characteristic feature and the failincr of romanticism. 2. Though man may, in his inspired moments, regard himself as identical with the God who inspires him, he very soon discovers his insignificance when it comes to giving his ideal a material form. Thus religion springs from art. Primitive art is essentially religious ; natural religion, es- sentially artistic. Idolatry is the connecting link between religion and art. HEGEL 529 Religion becomes conscious of itself, and emancipates itself from art by abolishing idols. This advance is made in Mosaism. The Bible condemns idolatry because it recog- nizes man's inability to express the infinite by means of matter; it forbids stone images because the idea has no adequate form except itself. But though it prohibits us from j^ichiriufj the invisible, it does not hinder us from pic- turing it to ourselves ; it forbids the outward image, but it does not forl^id the imagination itself and the ideas with which it peoples the mind. Far from it. The fact is, religion is essentially representation ( Vorstellung). Art represents the infinite ; religion represents it to itself as a personal and extra-mundane being. Anthropomorphism is its characteristic feature. In religious thought, the finite and the infinite, earth and heaven, which are united in the feeling of the beautiful, are again disjoined. Man is down helow^ God is up cthove, so high and so far that he needs the ministry of angels in order to communicate with the world. Religion is dual is tic, but there is nothing final in its dualism. It separates heaven and earth, only to unite them ; it separates God and humanity, only to recon- cile them. The essential elements of the relisfious idea : infinite God, mortal man, and their relation, successively prevail in the history of religion. In the religions of the Orient the idea of infinity pre- dominates. Their salient feature is pantheism ; an ultra- religious pantheism, hoAvever, which is synonymous with acosmism and may be summed up in these words ; God is everything, man is nothing. Brahmanism is the most com- plete expression of Asiatic pantheism. Mosaic monotheism, though otherwise differing from Indian religions, shows the same characteristics. The God of the Orient bears the same relation to man as the princes of the Orient bear to their subjects. He is the Creator, and men are his crea^ 34 530 MODERN PHILOSOPHY tnres ; hence he can dispose of them, he can make them live and die, exalt them and debase them, just as he pleases. Man is to God what the earthen vase is to the potter ; no more, no less. Human liberty and spontaneity are out of the question. Not only the act, but also the will comes from God ; he enlightens and hardens the hearts ; he pre- destines everything, be it for good or for evil. Since om- nipotence belongs to God, there is nothing left for man but total impotence and mournful resignation. The infinite as such cannot tolerate an independent existence by its side ; Siva, Moloch, and Saturn devour their own children, and where this does not liappen, the latter, knowing that their existence is displeasing to God, destroy themselves, or suffer a slow martyrdom, or absolutely relinquish their personality. Greece is as fond of finitude and form, nature and the things of the earth, as Asia is religious. Its religion is as serene as its skies, as radiant and transparent as the atmos- phere surrounding it; the clouds which elsewhere hide God from the eye of man, vanish at the first effort of the mind; the divine and the human are blended and united ; religion is identified with art, and art with the worship of humanity. The riddle of the Sphinx is the riddle of Hellenic polythe- ism. Man is the solution of tlie riddle. The God whom the Greek adores under the form of Zeus, Apollo, Athene, Aplirodite, is man and his power, intelligence, and beauty. His divinities are relative beings. Nay, this mythological heaven, radiant with eternal youth, is in reality subject to Fate, the mysterious power which rules over gods and mortals alike. This Destiny, the supreme power of which the poets eagerly strive to exalt, is like a conscience which antiquity cannot silence ; it is the infinite of the Oriental religions, which, like a Shakespearean ghost, haunts the sensuous environment of the polytheistic cultus. The Orient professes the religion of the infinite and HEGEL 631 abstract ; Greece worsliips at the slirine of the finite. These two extremes of religion are reconciled in Christian- ity, in which the spirit of the Orient and the Grreek genins are united. For the Hindoo, God is everything, man noth- ing; for the Greek, God is notliing or very little, man, everything ; for the Christian, the important thing is neither God considered in the abstract, the Father, nor man in the abstmct, but the concrete unit}^ of the divine and the human as realized in Jesus Christ. The God whom Jesus reveals to us is the same as the God who reveals liim ; he is neither an infinite being like the God of Oriental religions, nor a finite one, like the pagan divinities, but a Being who is both God and man, the God-Man. The distance between the Christian heaven and the earth, be- tween the God of the Gospel and humanity, is not insuper- able ; nay, this God comes down from his throne, enters the s^Dhere of finity, lives our life, suffers and dies like us, then rises from the dead and enters into his glory. Christianity is to the preceding religions what poetry is to the fine arts ; it embraces them and at the same time purifies and com- pletes them. It is the synthesis of all religions, the absolute religion. 3. The Christian dogma is truth in the form of repre- se7itatio7i (^Vorstellung') . The three stages in the evolution of immanent reason, idea, nature, and mind, become three persons. The union of the infinite and finite in human consciousness, i. e., a process embracing the whole of uni- versal history, is regarded as an event that happened once for all times in Palestine, eighteen hundred years ago. In this form the dogma is an inadequate expression of the truth which it contains. Moreover, it is imposed as an external authority, whereas the mind, which is free in essence, can only be realized as free. In order to reach the climax of its evolution, it has simply to divest the religious doctrine of its rtpresentative form, and to give it the rational 532 MODERN PHILOSOPHY form. This advance is made by ijliilosophy. The Gospel and true philosoj)hy have the same content. But the cotv- tainer is not the same ; with the Christian it is the imag- ination^ with the philosopher, reason. Philosophical truth is religious truth in the form of a concept ; it is compre- hended truth. The absolute idea becomes absolute mind, absolute self-consciousness. The history of philosophy, like all history, is a regu- lar development, reproducing the entire series of catego- ries : Eleatism is the philosophy of being ; Heraclitus is the philosopher of becoming ; Democritus and atomism correspond to the idea of individuality (Filrsichsein)^ and so on.^ It attains to its fullest ex^Dansion in absolute idealism, i. e., in the system wliich we have just outlined. What truth is there in this final claim ? How much of it is illusory? Hegelianism is, without doubt, the most comprehensive and complete synthesis ever attempted by the human mind, — a veritable encyclopaedia, animated by a central idea, and supported by a method that has implicit confi- dence in itself. Hence, if philosophy is what our opening paragraph defined it to be, we must give Hegel the credit of having come nearer to the ideal of science than any of his predecessors. Furthermore, no one, after Kant, gave to modern thought so powerful an impetus, — no one more completely dominated and fascinated it. Jurisprudence, politics, ethics, theology, and aesthetics, — all have suffered his influence. Nor is that all. By demonstrating that be- ing is becoming, logical development, history, that history is not only a science among others, but the science of sciences, he ably seconded, if he did not create, the historical move- ment of the nineteenth century, and impressed upon it the stamp of impartial objectivity which characterizes it, and 1 History of Philosophy, 1. 43. HEGEL 633 which was foreign to the eighteenth century. David Stkauss and his Lchen Jesu^ Bauk, the celebrated historian of primitive Christianity and the founder of the historical school of Tiibingen, Michelet, Rosenkranz, Erdmann, Pkantl, Zelleu, Kuno Fischer, the brilliant interpreters of ancient and modern thought, come from Hegel.^ The conception that philosophies and religions are different stages of one and the same development; the hypothesis that an unconscious reason creates and transforms lan- guages; the ideas of, and even the expressions, genesis^ evolution^ process^ the logic of history^ and many others, which have become common-places in the political, relig- ious, and scientific press, are products of the Hegelian movement. 1 For the literature, see § 3. — Outside of Germany and the North- ern countries, where it was taught by Monrad and Lyng at Christi- ania, and by Borelius at Lund (Sweden), the Hegelian philosophy was especially popular in Italy, where Vera, professor at Naples, acted as its chief interpreter. In France it influenced the sociological theories of Proudhon and Pierre Leroux, the first phase (mcmiere) of V. Cousin (§ 71), and, above all, the idealism of Vacherot (La metaphysique et la scieyice, Paris, 1852 ; 2d ed., 18(32 ; La science et la conscience^ Paris, 1872, etc.). Vacherot, w^ho in some respects resembles the eclectics (§ 71), wholly differs from them in that he absolutely denies the personality of God. According to Vacherot, God is the ideal to which things aspire, and exists only in so far as he is thought, while the world is the real infinity. "Eliminate man," he adds, "and God no longer exists; no humanity, no thought, no ideal, no God, since God exists only for the thinking being." La metaphysique et la science, 2d ed., vol. III., Conclusion. [Representatives of the Hegelian movement in England: J. H. Stirling (see p. 496, note 3), T. H. Green {Works, 3 vols., London and New York, 1885-88; Prolegomena to Ethics, 1883), F. H. Bradley {Ethical Studies, 1876; Principles of Logic, 1883; Appearance and Reality, 1894), J. Caird (Introduction to the Philosophy of Religion, 1880), E. Caird (see p. 434, n. 2), B. Bosanquet (Logic, 2 vols., 1888), W. Wallace (see p. 497, n. 3), etc. ; in America, W. T. Harris, Editor of the Journal of Specidative Philosophy, founded 1867. — Ti{.1 534 MODERN PHILOSOPHY What discredited Hegelianism and philosophy itself — for there was a time when the two terms were employed synonymously — was the material errors which necessarily followed from its exclusively a-prioristic method ; was the authoritative tone which it assumed towards the leaders of modern science, Copernicus, Newton, and Lavoisier; was its presumptuous attempt to withdraw the hypotheses of metaphysics from the supreme jurisdiction of facts. If the philosophical mind {die spekidative Vernunft) per- ceives truth by an immediate and instinctive intuition, whereas experience discovers it step by step only, then its oracles, precisely because they are immediate^ i. e., unproved, and wholly unaccounted for, need the counter-signature of experience in order to have the force of laws in the scien- tific sphere. The immediate and spontaneous, as Hegel himself declares, is never definitive, but the starting-point of an evolution. Hence, a priori speculation, as he con- ceives and pursues it, cannot be the final form of science, but should, at the very least, be verified by experience, and, in case of need, be corrected by criticism. Moreover, the defects of the Hegelian method and the errors of fact following from it are due to the rationalistic prejudice of which the system is the classical expression. According to Hegel, the absolute is idea, thought, reason, and nothing hut that; whence he concludes that the idea, or, as the School says, the form^ is also the content, the matter^ of things. When he assumes that the ideal world of science can be deduced from reason alone, it is because, according to him, the real loorld^ the loorld of beings^ is derived from reason and reason alone. Now the absolute, or at least — since the absolute is unknowable as such — the primary phenomenon (^das Urphdnomen') is not tliought, intelli- gence, reason, but will.^ Thought is a mode of the cre- 1 See §^ (38 and 71. HERBART 535 ative activity of things ; it is not their principle?- It follows that the knowledge of things does not come from pure thought, but from thought supported and governed by experience. §67. Herbart2 Kant, the master, protested against the absolute idealism of his ''false disciples," and opposed to it his ideo-realism, which distinsfuishes between the form and the matter of our knowledge, considering the form alone as given a 'priori^ and the content, the matter, as solely and necessarily furnished by the outer and inner sense. Reason produces a ijviori the categories of quality, quantity, causality, and measure, which are indispensable to the knowledge of na- ture ; but it cannot produce a priori the ideas of iron, light, pleasure, and pain, which experience alone supplies. Ex- perience has its a priori conditions, which pure sensation- alism erroneously denies; but experience alone gives us complete and concrete ideas properly so-called, while the categories, which reason produces a priori^ are not, strictly speaking, ideas, but mere frames for our ideas : which is an entirely different thing. Schelling himself concedes that, in the last analysis, everything comes from experience, al- though experience presupposes a priori conditions without 1 According to the Christian dogma itself, which Hegel professes to translate into philosophical language, the \6yos is created and is not the " Father." 2 [Briefer philosophical writings, etc., published by G. Harten- stein, ;3 vols., Leipsic, 1842; complete works, ed. by G. Hartenstein, 12 vols., Leipsic, 1850 ft. ; complete works, ed. by K. Kehrbach, Lan- gensalza, 1882 ff. ; pedagogical works, ed. by O. Willniann, 2 vols., 2d ed., Leipsic, 1877. Cf. G. Hartenstein, Die Prohleme unci Grund- lehren der allgem.einen Metaphysik, Leipsic, 18;>6; rf. Kaftan, Sollen und Sein (a critique of Herbart), Leipsic, 1872; J. Capesius, Die Metaphysik HerharCs, Leipsic, 1878; Th. Ribot, La psychologie alle- mande confcmpnraine, Paris, 1879; Engl. tr. by Baldwin, 1886. — Tii.] 536 MODERN PHILOSOPHY which it would be impossible. That is, in truth, the real teaching of Kant. A number of thinkers, and particularly Johann Fried- KICH Herbart (1776-1841), professor at Konigsberg and Gottingen, followed the master. They occupied a position between Hegel, whose star sank in 1830, and Locke, whose empiricism, which had been temporarily checked hy the idealism of the Restoration, only to reappear, more power- ful than ever, as positivism, after the setting of the Hegel- ian sun. The most important philosophical writings of Herbart are : Allgcmeme Metapliysik ^ and FsycJiologie ah Wissenschaft, neu gegr'dndet auf Erfalirmig, Metapliysik^ und MatliematikP' What especially characterizes them is their systematic opposition to the principles, method, and conclusions of Hegel. Things are not merely our thoughts, as idealism holds ; they exist really and independently of the reason which thinks them (realism in the modern sense). Hence, the problem of philosopliy is not to construct the universe, but to accept it as it exists, and to explain its mechanism, so far as that can be done. Observation and experience form the indispensable foundation of specula- tion. A philosophy not based on the positive data of science is hollow. It has merely th^ import of a poem, and we cannot concede to it any scientific value. Herbart restores to philosophy the boundaries which Kantian criticism had declared impassable. Philosophy is defined as the elaboration of the concepts which underlie the different sciences.^ Such general ideas * are not free from contradictions, and should there- fore be revised. This work is the real business of the metaphysician. ^ Complete Works (Hartenstein), vols. III. and IV. 2 Works, vols. V. and VL Cf. Willm, op. ciL, vol. IV. [His Lehr- buck der Psyclwlogie has been translated by M. K, Smith, 1891.] ^ Lehrbuch zur Einleitung in die Philo.^opJiie. vol. I., ch. 2. ^ For example, the ideas of cause, space, and the ego. HERBART 537 The contradictions which philosophy is asked to resolve have been ascertained by the Eleatics, the Sceptics, and Hegel. But Zeno of Elea, instead of resolving them, con- sidered them insoluble, and hence inferred that nothing real corresponds to them. The Sceptics saw in this a reason for repudiating metaphysics. Hegel, at last, does not deny that our ideas are contradictory, but by a tour cle force un- heard of in the history of philosophy, accepts the contradic- tion without reserve, and declares that it forms the very essence of thought and being. That is, he pretends to dis- pense with the principle of contradiction. But we cannot, with impunity, violate the law which has governed human thought from the very beginning, and we shall have to reckon with it as long as reason is reason. The Hegelian paradox is not a solution. Scepticism has its raison cVetre ; it is even necessary, in a certain measure ; it forms the starting-point, in the history of thought, of the great philoso- phies (Socrates, Descartes, Kant). But to remain sceptical is to give proof of the incompetence of speculation. Doubt in its most absolute form, scepticism extended even to the existence of things, is refuted by one of the most simple reflections. Though it may be doubted that things exist, it is heyond donbt that they appear to exist. This appear- ance {phenomenon) is absolutely certain, and the most obsti- nate sceptic cannot doubt it. The phenomenon exists. If nothing existed, nothing could appear to exist. But, though we assume what is evident, namely, the existence of things, it is not so certain that they are Avhat we think they are, that they exist as they are thought (yEnesidemus, Sextus), that they are in time and space, connected by the tie of causality (Hume, Kant). This doubt, founded, as it is, on the contradictions and obscurities which even the most superficial reflection can discover in our ideas, is perfectly legitimate, provided it provokes philosophical thought. 538 MODERN PHILOSOPHY The business of philosophy, as we have said, consists essentially in revising and correcting our general ideas, in freeing them from the contradictions which they contain.^ The ideas of extension^ duration, matter^ movement, inher- ence^ causality, and egoity^ particularly, require elabora- tion. The idea of extension, duration, matter, is the idea of multiijle unity (hence the supposed antinomies of rational cosmology). To change, to become, and to move means to be and not to be. By the notion of inherence we assign manifold properties to the same substance ; i. e., we alhrm that one thing is several things (colored, odorous, sapid, liquid), that unity is not one. The notion of cause, like- wise, is contradictory from every point of view. We both affirm that the thing modified by an external cause is the same as before, and that it is not the same. When we speak of the self-determination of the subject (Leibniz), we be- come involved in the no less flagrant contradiction that a being is both active and passive, i. e., that it is not one but two. Finally, the notion of the ego with its diverse facul- ties is as contradictory as the idea of inherence, of which it is an application. In all these notions there is a confusion of being and non-being, the one and the many, affirmation and negation, i. e., of two things Avhich exclude each other, and which thought should clearly separate, Hegel to the contrary notwithstanding. From the confusion of two contraries arises the idea of limited and relative being. This conception Herbart un- conditionally rejects. Being, according to him, admits of neither negation nor limitation. It is absolute position, wholly excluding diversity of properties, divisibility, limi- tation, and negation. It cannot be conceived either as quantity or continuous magnitude, or as being in space and time (Kant). It is what Plato and Parmenides called the One, what Spinoza named Substance ; Init it differs 1 Einleitung in die Philosophie, pp. 194-202; Mefa/^hi/sik, p. 8. HERBART 539 from the Eleatic principle in that it exists independently of thought, and from Spinoza's Substance in that it is not one. There, are according to Herbart, a plurality of real beings or realities {Reale)^ and, since each reality is absolute position, a plurality of absolute beings; which seems contradictory, but is not so because extended beings alone limit each other, and the realities are supposed to be inextended. The realities of Herbart, therefore, closely resemble Leibniz's monads ; but they differ from them in an essential respect: the'* monads" are complex unities endowed with many properties, having their inner states, their modifications, and their immanent development ; the realities of Herbart are absolutely simple ; they have only one single property ; they suffer no internal change, they are immutable. ^ Real being {das Beale)^ then, is not what the senses show us ; for the objects perceived by the senses have many properties. What folloAvs ? Why, the sensible object (iron, silver, oxygen) contains as many realities as it has distinct properties. Thus the difficulty involved in the notion of inherence is resolved. This idea is contradictory only wdien applied to the real being (Kant's thing-in-itself) ; it is not so when applied to the phenomenal being, or the thing presented by the senses. The latter is always an integration of real beings in greater or smaller numbers, never a unitary real being. The ideas of causality and change are explained in the same way. The relation of causality cannot obtain either l)etween two real beings (external causality), or between a real being and its supposed characteristics (immanent causality) ; for each real being exists absolutely (by itself), while immanent causality (for example, iron considered as the cause of its properties) divides the one into many, i. e., contradicts the notion of real being. Hence, causality 540 MODERN PHILOSOPHY cannot signify anything but reality and, at the utmost, self- preservation (^Selbsterhaltuiig').^ Change cannot be assumed except under certain reser- vations. Change as affecting the real beings is out of the question in metaphysics. Not the substances, but only their mutual relations, are incessantly modified. Geometry shows that a thing can change relatively to another thing without changing itself : the tangent of a circle ABC becomes the radius of another circle D E F. The same is true of music : the same note is true or false, according to its relation to other notes. In pharmacy we observe the same fact : one and the same plant is both a poison and a remedy. But though the substances themselves do not change, their mutual relations change. The real beings, though absolute^ are related to each other. In order to understand this, we must imagine them to exist in a space which is not phenomenal space, but which Herbart calls intelligible space. In this space two monads can occupy different points, and then there is no relation between them ; but they can also, by means of a movement of whose laws we are ignorant, occupy the same point. Nothing can hinder us from assuming this, since we are not here dealing with material atoms. Two or more substances which occupy the same point interpenetrate (as though penetration did not presuppose extension). Substances which thus inter- penetrate may be of the same quality ; they may differ in quality, or, finally, they may be opposite in quality (differ- ence between Herbart and the Greek atomists). If they are identical in quality, their interpenetration produces no ^ Here Herbart contradicts himself ; for self-preservation is a re- flective act, which divides the monad in two, — namely, into a subject which preserves, and an object which is preserved. Now, does Her- bart believe that he can in no case contradict himself, because that would be a reflective act, a division in the monad, an impossibility? HERBART 541 change in their respective modes of being ; but if the su}> stance B, which comes to occupy the place of the sub- stance A, is of a different or opposite quality, there will be a conflict between the two monads, since two contraries cannot coexist in one and the same point. Each will tend to preserve itself; it will resist its rival, and affirm its indestructible individuality. Thus we may explain phenomena in general, and the phenomenon of thought in particular. The ego ceases to be a contradictory idea when we give up regarding it as a unity composed of different faculties, — a multiple unity, i. e., a unity which is not a unity. The ego has not many functions, but one single function : it tends to pre- serve itself in its indestructil)le originality. That is its only function, but it varies under the influence of the surroundings ; its only faculty manifests itself in a number of apparently different faculties, according as the soul is solicited by similar, differerit, or contrary monads. From such a conflict thought arises. Thought is the act by which the subject affirms itself, preserves itself, in opposi- tion to the object which solicits it. It is infinitely modi- fied, according to the nature of the object. Hence, the infinite variety of our perceptions. The psychological con- sciousness is the sum of relations which the real being called ego sustains to other real beings. Hence, inner perception is not essential to the soul ; it is a mere phenomenon, produced by the coming together of the ego and other realities, — a resultant of the combined actions of the subject and the object, a relation. If the soul were isolated from all other beings, it w^ould not think, feel, or will. Feeling is a thought arrested by other more energetic thoughts ; but this, in turn, may overcome the latter, and become thought when the ego is solicited by other objects. Similarly, will is nothing but thought (Spinoza) ; moral freedom is the permanent domination of 542 MODERN PHILOSOPHY reflected thought over feeling, i. e., a matter of equililv rium. Psychical life is a mechanism, tlie laws of which are the same as those of statics and dynamics. Psychology, properly undei'stood, is a true mechauism, an application of arithmetic, an exact science.^ The scientific bent of Herbart's philosophy, and particu- larly his application of mathematics to the science of the soul, — a bold and original attempt, — could not but make him the centre of a large school.^ Hegel's attitude towards 1 Works, VII., pp. 129 fe. 2 Outside of the Herbartian scliool proper (Drobisch, Ilartensteiu, Lazarus, Steiuthal, Striimpell, Tliilo, Waitz, Ziiuniernianii, etc.), the exact philosophy especially influenced the j^sychology of Friedrich EduardBeneke (1798-1851, extraordinary professor at Berlin) and the metaphysics of Hermann Lotze (1817-1881, professor at Gottingen and latterly at Berlin), author of MedizinischePsycholo(/ie, 1852, 1896 ; Micro- cosmus, 3 vols., 1856-64; [Engl. tr. by Hamilton and Jones, Edin. and N.Y., 1884]; Logik, 1874; [Engl, tr.'by B. Bosanquet, Oxford, 1884]; Metap1njdk\ [Engl. tr. by B. Bosanquet, 2 vols., Oxford, 1884. Lotze's Outlines, by G. T. Ladd, Boston, 1885 ff. On Lotze see E. v. Ilartmann, Lotze's PhUosopMe, Berlin, 1888 ; O. Caspari, H. Lotze, etc., 2d ed., Bres- lau, 1894 ; H. Jones, The Philosophy of Lotze, Xew York, 1895. — Tr.]. Beneke, whose originality is shown in his theory of the four fundamental processes of soul-life, rejects the psychological atomism of the master as well as his application of mathematics to the science of the mind. Lotze, on the other hand, emphatically protests against being called a Herbartian, and advances, particularly in his later publications, a sys- tem of concrete spiritualism which is dominated by the moral idea (Kant) and the monistic conception (Spinoza). He is the author of the theory of local signs in psychology. In short, psychology and peda- gogy are most indebted to the philosophy of Herbart. Consult, con- cerning the influence of this philosophy on psychology, Ribot, La psy- chologic allemande contemporaine, Paris, 1879, especially chapter II. : Uecole de Herhart et la psychologic etlinographique. [Other disciples of Herbart are : F. Exner, G. A. Lindner (Lehrbuch der empirischen Psy- chologic, 6th ed., Vienna, 1886, Engl. tr. by C. De Garmo, Boston, 1889) ; J. Nahlowsky (Das Gefuhlslehen, 2d ed., Leipsic, 1884) ; W. Volkmann (Lehrbuch der Psychologic, 4th ed., Cothen, 1894). Organs of the school : Zeitschrift fur exacte Philosophic, founded 1861, HERBART 543 the pioneers of modern science prejudiced serious thinkers against idealism and drove them into the camp of exact metaphysics. They entered this school for want of a better ; for the pliilosophy of Herl^art, which undertook to free thought from all contradictions, w^as itself full of the most glaring contrasts. While Herbart's ontology declares real being to be simple and inextended, his psychology is based on the opposite hypothesis. His theodicy, which is per- fectly conservative, and his teleology, which is Avhollj- spir- itualistic, seriously clash with his paradoxical theory of the multiple absolute, which logically culminates in polytheism, and his mechanism, which is closely akin to the material- istic theories. Moreover, his metaphysics contains the strangest contradictions. Becd being excludes the plurality of properties, change, and movement, i. e., in brief, life, and, ultimately, reality, Beal reality^ life, activity, is ex- cluded from the sphere of beings, and Herljart's Bealen^ instead of being realities, are lifeless abstractions, scholastic entities, and nothing more. Furthermore, his monadology shares all the disadvantages of the Leibnizian theor}^ which serves as his model. Like the " pulverized universe " with which he presents us, his philosophy possesses neither tlie unity nor the homogeneity which we have a riglit to demand from a doctrine claiming to be a metaphysic. It is, in every respect, the antipode of Hegelian philosophy, and, provoked by the logicism of its powerful rival, affects to ignore the monistic tendency. The latter reasserts itself in Schopenhauer, whose phi- losophy, a happy mean between speculation and positive knowledge, exercises a preponderating influence on modern German thought. now edited by O. Fliigel ; Zeitschrift filr Volke.rpsyclwJogie. und Sprach wissenschaft, founded 1859, edited by Lazarus and Steintbal. — Tr.] 544 MODEKN PHILOSOPHY § 68. Schopenhauer^ Arthur Schopenhauer, the son of a banker in Danzic, and Johanna Schopenhauer, an authoress formerly well-known in Germany, was born 1788. He studied at Gottingen (1809-1811) and Berlin (1811-1813), taught phi- losophy at the latter institution as a PTivatdoceiit from 1820 to 1831, then abandoned the university career, and spent the remainder of his life at Frankfort on the Main, where he died in 1860. The writings which established his repu- tation are : (1) his inaugural dissertation, Ueher die vier- facJie Wurzel des Satzes votii zurciclieiuUn Grmidc;'^ (2) Die Welt ah Wille %ind Vorstellung ; ^ (3) Ueher den Willen in der Natiir ; ^ (4) Die heiden Grmndprohlenie der EthikJ' He heard the lectures of Schulze ^ at Gottingen and of Fichte 1 [Complete Works, ed. l)y J. Fraueiistlidt, 6 vols., Leipsic, 1873-74 ; 2d ed., 1877 ; ed. by E. Grisebach, Leipsic, 1890 ff. ; ed. by R. Sleiner, 13 vols., Leipsic, 1891. Cf. J. Fraiienstadt, Briefe ilher die Sch.'scJie P/«7osojo/«>-, Leipsic, 1851 ; R. Seydel, ScJiojjenJiauer's System, Leipsic, 1857 ; Foucher de Careil, Hegel ei Schopenhauer, Paris, 1802 ; 11. Haym, A. Schopenhauer, Berlin, 1864; Th. Ribot, La philosophie de Schopen- hauer, Paris, 1874 ; H. Zimmern, Schopenhauer, His Life and Philosophy, London, 1876; W. Gwinner, Sch.'s Leben, Leipsic, 1878; W. Wallace, Schopenhauer {Great Writers Series), London, 1890 ; J. Sully, Pessimism, 2d ed., London, 1891; K. Fischer, Arthur Schopenhauer, Heidelberg, 1893. — Tr.] 2 1813 ; 2d ed., 1847 ; 3d ed., 1864. [Transl. (Fourfold Root of the Principle of Sufficient Reason) by K. Hillebrand in Bohn^s Library, 2d ed., 1891 (the same volume contains the tr. of On the Will in Nature). -Tr.] 3 Leipsic, 1819 ; 2d ed. in 2 vols., 1844 ; 3d ed., 1859. IThe World as Will and as Idea, tr. by R. B. Haldane and J. Kemp, 3 vols., Lon- don and Boston, 1884-86.] 4 Frankfort, 1836 ; 2d ed., 1854 ; 3d ed., 1867. [On the Will in Na- ture, Bohn's Library, see above.] 5 [The Two Fundamental Problems of Ethics.'] Frankfort, 1841 ; 2d ed., 1860. [Schopenhauer's Essays, selected and translated by Bax, Bohn's Uhrary. See also T. B. Saunders's translations. — Tr.] 6 See § 63, SCHOPENHAUER 545 in Berlin, and devoted himself, particularly, to the study of Kant, Plato, and Buddhism, so far as this was known in Europe. To Kant, Fichte, and Schelling he owes his car- dinal doctrine, which conceives the will as the absolute, to Plato, his theory of Ideas or stages of the voluntary phe- nomenon, to Buddhism his pessimistic bent and his doctrine of the negation of the will. His chief work. Die Welt ah Wille und Vorstellung^ opens with a glowing tribute to criticism. In asserting, with Kant, that the world is my idea {die Welt ist meine Vorstel- hmg), he does not deny the reality of the world ; he distin- guishes between the woi'ld as it is in itself, apart from my senses and my intelligence, and the world as I see and conceive it, i. e., the phenomenal world. The phenomenal world is 7ny perception, 771)/ idea, the product of ??«y intel- lectual organization. Indeed, if I were differently organ- ized, the world would be different, or, at least, would seem different ; it would consist (for me) of different phenomena. As a reality^ it exists independently of me, but as an olject of sensibility and the understanding, or, in a word, as a 'phenomenon^ it depends on the suhject which perceives it : it is a wholly relative thing, created by the ego and the a priori conditions of thought.^ On the other hand, consciousness emphatically declares that behind this phenomenal world, the product of our organization, there is a higher reality, which does not de- pend on us, an absolute, a thing-in-itsclf. Kant acknowl- edges the existence of the thing-in-itself ; but what he gives with one hand he takes back with the other. He denies to the understanding the right to apply to this tiling any of its categories, maintains that reason is incapable of knowing it, and, consequently, regards the phenomenal world, i. e., in the last analysis, the thinking subject, as alone know- able ; for the phenomenon is my thought, nothing but 7ny 1 Die Welt als Wille und Vorstellung, vol. I., pp. 3 ff. 35 546 MODERN PHILOSOPHY thought. It is true, the subject cannot get beyond itself, identify itself with what it is not, assimilate tilings as they are in themselves. But it is equally true that the belief in the existence of the world irresistibly forces itself upon us ; it is, consequently, true that the perception which we have of ourselves gives us, at the very least, an image of what the things outside of us are. It would, undoubtedly, be impossible for me to know anything of the essence of objects if I were merely a subject. But I am both the subject and the object of my thought, as I am the object of the thought of others. I am conscious of being an object among other objects. Thus the chasm made by criticism between the thinking subject and the things themselves is partly bridged. I have the right to convert the proposition : I (the subject) am an object, and to say : most probably — Schop- enhauer, the pupil of Schulze the sceptic, does not lay claim to absolute knowledge ^ — the object (all objects, the entire objective world) is what I am ; its essence is analogous to mine. This ancdogy of all beings, which dogmatism affirmed in Leibniz, we must assume even from the standpoint of criti- cism. We have the right, even as Kantians, to judge things according to what we find in ourselves. Only, we must make sure of what in us is truly essential, original, and fundamental. According to Descartes, Spinoza, Leibniz, Hegel, and all the rationalists, this essential thing is thought, intellect. Hence, inasmuch as all existing things are anal ogous, Leibniz concludes that all beings perceive and tliink in a certain degree ; but experience does not confirm this hyi:)othesis. Hegel, likewise, regards thought as the uni- versal typical phenomenon. According to Schopenhauer, the essential and fundamental thing in us is the Will, whereas thought is but a derived or secondary phenomenon, an accident of will. Now, we have every reason to believe, ^ Die Welt ah W'dle und Vurslellung, vol. II., chap. L., pp. 7oG ff. SCHOPENHAUER 547 and experience strikingly proves, tliat what is essential and fundamental to us is also the essence, the ultimate principle of the nature of all other beings. We are essentially will, and the entire universe, considered in its essence, is a will that objectifies itself^ gives itself a hody or a real existence. In the first place, my body is the product of will; it is my will become phenomenon, my desire-to-be made vis- ible.^ And the objects which I perceive through it are like my body : all are phenomena, manifestations, pro- ducts of a will analogous to mine. The will, the principle of everything that exists, is sometimes pure, i. e., not con- nected with an intellect. In this case it is identical with irritahility^ the mysterious force which governs the circula- tion of the blood, the digestion, and the secretions. Some- times it is connected with the intellectual phenomenon ; it is conscious, and in this case it is what we commonly call will and free-will. Will, in this special sense, is irritability acting knowingly, and according to motives, as, for example, when I raise my arm. Sometimes, again, our acts are both the result of irritability and motived will : the pupil is con- tracted when it is excited by too much light ; this is the effect of irritability, a reflex act ; but it is also voluntarily contracted when we will to observe a very small object. The power of conscious will is immense. We iwaj cite the cases of negroes who committed suicide by arresting their respiration. But, whether it be conscious or unconscious, irritability or free activity, and however diverse and in- numerable its manifestations may be, will as such is one. Whether it is conscious or not, the Avill acts in us without interruption. The body and the intellect grow tired and need rest ; the will alone is indefatigal^le ; it acts even during sleep and causes dreams. It acts in the body not only during its formation, but exists prior to the body. 1 Die Welt ah Wille und Vorstellung, vol. 1., § 18, 118 ff. ; TT., chnp. XX.,277ff. 548 MODERN PHILOSOPHY The will forms and organizes it according to its needs ; the will, in the embryo, transforms a part of the cerebral sub- stance into a retina in order to receive optical phenomena. The mucous membrane of the thoracic canal is transformed into lungs, because the body wills to assimilate the oxygen of the atmosphere. The capillary system produces genital organs, because the individual in process of formation ivills to propagate the species. Consider the organization of animals, and you will always find that it conforms to their mode of life. It seems, in- deed, at first sight, as though their mode of life, their habits, depended on their organization ; in the order of time the organization precedes the mode of life. It seems that the bird flies because it has wings, that the ox butts because it has horns. But intelligent observation shows the contrary. We observe that many animals manifest the will to use organs which they do not yet possess. The goat and the ox butt before they have horns ; the wild-boar attacks with that part of his snout where tusks are going to be ; he does not, as might be done, fight with his teeth. Hence, the will is the principle of organization, the centre of creative evolution. Wild beasts that desire to tear their prey to pieces, to live on plunder and on blood, have teeth and huge claws, strong muscles, piercing eyes (eagles, condors) ; such, on the other hand, as, by instinct, do not desire to fight, but to seek safety in flight, develop, instead of organs of defence, a fine sense of hearing, slender and agile legs (stags, roe-bucks, gazelles). The bird of the moor, which desires to feed on reptiles, has particularly well-developed legs, neck, and beak (stork, pelican) ; owls desire to see in the dark, and so have enormous pupils, soft, silken down, in order not to awaken the animal desired for prey. The porcupine, the hedgehog, and the tortoise cover themselves with a shell, because they do not desire to flee. The cuttle- fish conceals itself in a brownish liquid ; the ai, in order to SCHOPENHAUER 549 hide from its enemies, assumes the appearance of a tree- trunk covered with moss. As a I'ule, especially in the desert, the animal assumes the color which least distin- guishes it from the surroundings in which it lives, because it desires to escape the pursuit of the hunter. In all these cases, the will, or, more correctly, the will-to-be, the wiU~to- exist, is the principal agent. ^ Where none of these means suffices, the will provides itself with a still more efficient safeguard, the most efficient of all, intelligence^'^ which, in man, supersedes all the others. The intellect is all the more powerful a weapon because it can conceal the will under false appearances, while, in the case of animals, the intent is always manifest and always of a definite character. The will plays the same part, although this is not so ap- parent, in the vegetable kingdom. Here, too, everything is striving^ desire, unconscious appetit'wn. The tree-top, de- siring light, invariably tends to assume a vertical position unless it finds it elsewhere. The root, which desires moist- ure, often seeks for it in the most roundabout manner. The seed planted in the ground will invariably push its stem upwards, its roots downwards, in whatever position it may be placed. The toadstool performs real feats of strength, wonderful acts of will, breaking through walls, splitting stones, in order to reach the light. Potatoes growing in a cellar infallibly turn their sprouts to the light. Climbing plants seek supports and make visible efforts to reach and catch hold of them. Hence, here, as in the animal king- dom, everything is reduced to will, to that elementary will which we call irritability. There is no essential difference between irritability and the faculty of being determined by motives; for the motive regularly produces an irritation which sets the will in motion. The plant turns to the sun 1 See the critique of this theory in § 09. 2 Die Welt als W'dle uml VorslcUung, vol. I., § 27, pp. 179 ft. 550 MODERN PHILOSOPHY by irritation ; the animal likewise ; only, the animal is en* dowed with intelligence, and knows what effect the sun produces on the body. Considering its manifestations, it is hardest to recognize the will in the two extremes of creation, i. e., on the one hand, in man, on the other, in the mineral kingdom. Every animal, every vegetable, has its fixed character ; indeed, we can tell in advance what to expect of it. When we are dealing with a dog, or a cat, or a fox, we know at once that the dog will be faithful, the cat treacherous, and the fox cunning. We can predict with certainty that a cactus will desire dry surroundings, and a myosotis moist soil. We know at what time a particular plant will bud, when it will bloom, and bear fruit. But in man and in the minerals, at the summit and at the base of creation, the character is full of mysteries. We cannot discover it by direct observa- tion, and we can know it only after prolonged experience. This is a difficult procedure, especially in the case of man, who can conceal his character, and disguise the particular tendency of his will. Nevertheless, we find in man clearly marked tendencies, inclinations, and propensities, while the mineral kingdom has its constant tendencies also. The magnetic needle invariably points to the north. Bodies always fall in a vertical line, and we call this the law of weight or gravitation. Liquid matter obeys the same law in following the descending plane. Certain substances in- variably expand under the influence of heat, and contract under the influence of cold ; certain ones form crystals when acted upon by other substances with which they come in contact. Particularly in chemistry do we observe striking examples of such constant wills, sympathies, and antipa- thies.^ Moreover, this truth that the will lies at the basis 1 The objection is made that this is equivalent to anthropomorphiz- ing nature ; but if nature produced man, did it not create him in its own ima2:e ? SCHOPENHAUER 551 of all things is instinctively proclaimed in a number of cliaracteristic expressions. Thus we say : the fire will not burn ; the water wcmts to get out ; U fer est avide cV oxygens. These are not mere figures of speech, but must be taken literally.^ Hence, that which the Eleatics call the ez^ koL irav ; Spi- noza, substance ; Schelling, the absolute ; Schopenhauer calls will. But he denies, with pantheism, that this prin- ciple is a person. He regards will as the unconscious force which produces specific beings, individuals living in space and in time. It is that which, not being, strives to be, be- comes life, objectifies itself in inchvidual existence ; it is, in a word, the will-to-be. In itself, will is neither subject to the laws of space and time, nor capable of being known. But its manifestations occur in time and in space, which together form the 2^'i'inci2num individicationis. At least, the intellect conceives its manifestations as alongside of and following each other. The phenomena of universal will succeed each other in time according to uniform laws, and according to the im- mutable types which Plato calls Ideas. These ideas or con- stant forms in which the will objectifies itself in the same species, form an ascending scale, from the most elementary being to man. They are independent of time and of space, eternal and immutable, like the will itself, while individuals become and never are. The inferior Ideas, or elementary stages of the manifestation of will, are : weight, impenetra- bility, solidity, fluidity, elasticity, electricity, magnetism, chemism. The higher stages appear in the organic world, and the series is completed in man. Inasmuch as the dif- ferent stages of the voluntary phenomenon contend with each other for the matter, space, and time which they need, the struggle for existence arises which characterizes nature. Each organism represents the idea of Avhich it is the copy, 1 Uehcr den Willen in der Nalur, od ed., pp. »<) ff. {LinguisUk). 552 MODERN PHILOSOPHY minus the amount of force expended to overcome the in- ferior ideas which oppose it. The more the organism suc- ceeds in overcoming the natural forces constituting the lower stages of life, the more perfect an expression is it of the idea which it represents, and the nearer it comes to what, in the species, is called beauty.^ The will is a perpetual desire to be, the never-ending source of the phenomenal world. As long as there is a will, there will be a universe. Individuals come and go, but the will, the desire which produces them, is eternal, like the specific types according to which it produces them. Birth and death do not apply to the will, but only to its manifestations. Our innermost essence, the will, never dies. The religion of the Hindoos, Greeks, and Romans evidently aims to give expression to this truth in the joyful themes, feasts, and dances depicted on its sarcophagi. Death is not a subject for grief. On the contrary ; it is, like birth, the consequence of the universal order. But thoTigh the fact that we have in ourselves a part of the uni- versal will, a principle that cannot die, is consoling, because it guarantees us a certain measure of immortality, it is a source of sorrow to those who desire to free themselves from the pains of existence by committing suicide. Since death merely destroys the phenomenon, that is, the body and never the soul, or the universal will, suicide can deliver me from my phenomenal existence only and not from myself. The will is the endless source of all life, and hence also the origin of all evil. The world which it produces, instead of being the ''best possible world," is the worst of all. In spite of what the poets may say, animals are constantly preying upon each other, and we have simply to balance the sufferings of the victims against the pleasures of the victors, to be convinced that the amount of pain exceeds the pleasure. History, in turn, is merely an interminable 1 Welt als Wllle und Vorsfellung, L, §§ 30 ff., pp. 199 ff. SCHOPENHAUER 553 series of murders, rol)beiies, intrigues, and lies, and if you know one page of it, you know them all. The alleged hu- man virtues, the love of labor, perseverance, temperance, frugality, are nothing but refined egoism, splendida vitia. There is no virtue worthy of the name except 2^'^iy or sym- pathy, the principle of Buddhistic morality, and, Spinoza to the contrary, the basis of all true morality.^ All other vir- tues are grounded on the will-to-live-and-to-enjoy. And what is the use of this mighty effort, this merciless, never- ending struggle ? Life is its goal, and life is necessary, irremediable suffering. The more life is perfected, i. e., advanced in the scale of intelligence, the unhappier it be- comes. Man who is capable of conceiving ideas suffers infinitely more than the ignorant brute. Laughter and tears are peculiarly human phenomena. Since being is synonymous with suffering, positive hap- piness is an eternal Utopia. Only negative well-being, consisting in the cessation of suffering, is possible, and tliis can be realized only when the will, enlightened as to the inanity of life and its pleasures by the intelligence, turns against itself, negates itself, renounces being, life, and en- joyment. This doctrine of salvation by the negation of the will is the common essence of the Gospel and of Buddhism.^ Both Christianity and Buddha hold that man enters the world as a sinner ; he is the product of two blind passions ; for marriage, in the opinion of St. Paul, is merely a conces- sion to those v/hose will is not strong enough to conquer itself. The propagation of the species is an evil, — the feeling of shame proves it, — and it would be better not to be born than to descend into this world of lust and pain : such is, according to Schopenhauer, the meaning of the dogma of original sin and of the miraculous conception of the Savior. To recognize through the agency of the intel- lect that everything in our willing is vanity, is what Cliris- ^ Ueher das Fwidatnent der Moral, § 18. 2 Die Welt als Wille und Vorsieliunr/, 1., 319 ff. (§§ 53 ff.). 554 MODERN PHILOSOPHY lect that everything in our willing is vanity, is what Chris- tianity calls the effect of grace, whence spring the love of justice, charity towards neighbors, renunciation of self and our desires, finally, the absolute negation of Avill (regenera- tion, conversion, sanctification). Jesus is the type of man who understands his vocation. He sacrifices his body, which is the affirmation of his will ; he stifles the ivill-to-he in himself in order that the Holy Ghost, i. e., the spirit of renunciation and charity, may take its place in the world. Furthermore, it must be acknowledged that Catholicism, with its predilection for celibacy, its vows, its fasts, its alms, and other means of fettering the will, has remained more faithful to the spirit of the Gospel than Protestantism. Christianity is true in such of its teachings as are derived from the Aryan Orient, especially in its doctrine of the self- sacrifice of the will and universal charity ; but the Jewish elements ^ which it contains are erroneous, particularly its dogma of a personal God, as the creator of the world. To sum up, Schopenhauer concludes,^ my philosophy does not presume to explain the ultimate causes of the world; nay, it confines itself to the facts of inner and outer experience, which are accessible to everybody, and points out the true and intimate connection existing be- tween these facts, without, however, concerning itself with that which may transcend tliem. It refrains from drawing any conclusions concerning what lies beyond experience ; it merely explains the data of sensibility and self-consci- ousness, and strives to understand only the immanent 1 Schopenhauer's antipathy to the Jews and Judaism is only- equalled by his hatred of Hegel and " the professors of philosophy." His attitude is consistent with his Buddhistic principle of " renuncia- tion," which constitutes the essence of morality. Israel seems to be more determined than any other race 7iot to renounce existence ; it is, therefore, in the eyes of our philosopher, the most "immoral' of peoples. 2 Die Welt als Wille and Vorstdlung, II,, chap. L. SCHOPENHAUER 655 essence of the world. It is, in this respect, purely Kantian. Consequently, it leaves many questions unanswered, j)ar- ticularly the question. Why are the facts of experience just what they are and not different ? All such questions, however, are transcendent, i. e., they cannot be explained by the forms and functions of our intellect. The intellect bears the same relation to them as our sensibility bears to such qualities of bodies as we have not the sense-organs to perceive. The mind is fatally dependent on the law of causality, and understands only what is subject to this law. The dogmatic metaphysicians and transcendentalists who keep on asking luhy and whence^ forget that ivhj means hy ivhat cause^ that there are no causes and effects outside of time-succession, and tliat, therefore, the ivhy has no mean- ing in the sphere to which the forms of time and space can- not be applied, i. e., in the sphere of the transcendent, where there is no before or after. Everywhere the intel- lect strikes against insoluble problems, as against the walls of a prison-house. The essence of things not only transcends our knowledge, but, most probably, knowledge in general ; it is both unintelligible and unintelligent, ^ and intelli- gence is but a form, an addition, an accident. With the Eleatics, Scotus Erigena, Bruno, S})inoza, and Schelling, I accept the ev kol jrdv, the doctrine of the unitary essence of all beings ; only I am careful not to add : Trdv Oeo^^ and so I differ essentially from the pantheists. The 6e6^ of the pantheists is an x^ an unknown quantity by means of which they aim to explain the known ; my '' will," on the other hand, is a fact of experience ; I proceed, as all true science must proceed, from the known to the un- known. My method is empirical, analytic, inductive ; that of the pantheistic metaphysicians, synthetic and deductive. Pantheism is synonymous with optimism ; in my system, 1 There is no difference here between Schopenhauer and niate- riaUsni. 556 MODERN PHILOSOPHY however, the evil m the world is frankly conceded and its significance fully recognized. In this respect, my system differs from most ancient and modern philosophies, espe- cially from Spinoza, Leibniz, and Hegel. It is to Spinoza what the New Testament is to the Old. Schopenhauer, therefore, offers us an empirical ineta- fhysics^ and because he stands on the ground of experience he is the first to call that which '' constitutes the basis of being and its substance " ^ by its right name : Will. That is what constitutes his originality, his merit, the secret of his success in contemporary Germany, which has been sur- feited with a-priorism. His philosophy reunited elements which but recently seemed forever irreconcilable : experi- ence and speculation, realism and idealism, positivism and metaphysics. It is speculative, for it rises to the univer- sal, and it is empirical, because it arrives at it by induc- tion. It is an ontology, for it has for its object the essence, and, if we may venture to say so, the secret, of things, and it is positive, since it rests on the solid basis of facts. It is realistic because of the extreme concessions it makes to materialism ; it is idealistic and critical in that it denies the absolute reality of the phenomenal world, and makes it depend entirely on our intellectual organization. It gives promise of the future reconciliation of metaphysics and science, and hence its disciples are willing to condone its theory of ideas, borrowed from Plato and contrary to the essentially nominalistic natural-science of the times ; its extreme pessimism, which, though unquestionably superior to the self-satisfied optimism of Leibniz, rests on an imper- fect knowledge of human nature, and evidently exaggerates the import of our personal experiences ; and finally, the extreme bitterness of its diatribes against Fichte, Schelling, 1 Ch. Secretan {Revue philosopliique, VII., 3). True, the term is found in his predecessors, especially in Fichte and Schelling, but Schopenhauer gives it its final sanction as a technical terra. SCHOPENHAUER 557 and Hegel, from whom, in spite of its protests, it derives the monistic idea, and whose chief wrong really consisted in having l)een professors of philosophy. The most original among Schopenhauer's disciples, Eduard von Hartmann,^ has made the attempt, in his Philosophy of the Unconscious^ to reconcile Schopenhauer and Hegel, by adding to the will a second principle, which serves as its guide : idea (^die Vorstellung). The will, he reasons, reaches its ends as though it were intelligent. In the form of soul, it communicates to the human body such movements as it desires, as though perfectly conscious of the means necessary to realize its purpose. In animals it acts instinctively, like the most consummate intelli- 1 Born at Berlin, 1842. Besides the Philosophie des Unhewussten (1869 ; numerous editions) ; [Engl. tv. by E. C. Coupland, London, 1886], Hartmann has published : Kritische Grundlegung des transcen- dentalen Realismus (1875) ; Phdnomenologie des sitdichen Bewusstseins (1879) ; Das religiose Bewusstsein der Menschheit, etc. (1881) ; etc. [Cf. J. Volkelt, Das Unhewusste und der Pessimismus, Berlin, 1873 ; H. Vaihinger, Hartmann, Diihring iind Lange, Iserlohn, 1876 ; R. Kober, Das philosopUsche System E. v. H.'s, Breslau, 1881; J. Sully, Pessi- mism, ch. V. — Tr.] Other prominent disciples: J. Frauenstadt (1813-1878), (Briefe ilher die Sch.'sche Philosophie, Leipsic, 1854; Neue Briefe, etc., Leipsic, 1876, etc. Frauenstadt is not a servile imi- tator; he criticises and corrects the master in several important respects. ISTot only does he distinguish between the higher or human will and the inferior will of the animal, thereby opposing Schopen- hauer, who identifies them, but also substitutes for his pessimism a system which aims to reconcile pessimism and optimism) ; Bahnsen (Beitrage zur Characterologie, Leipsic, 1867 ; etc.) ; Mainlander {Phi- losophie der Erlosung, Berlin, 1876, 2d ed., 1879) ; Deussen {Elemente der Metaphysik, Aix-la-Chapelle, 1877); [2d ed., Berlin, 1890; Engl, tr. by C. M. Duff, Xew York, 1894; llichard Wagner, 1813-1883, the great composer (Collected writings, 9 vols., 2d ed., 1887-88) ; Fried- rich Nietzsche, born 1844, (^Unzeitgemasse Betrachtungen, Lei^^sic, 1873- 1876; Menschliches, Allzumenschliches, 2 vols., 2d ed., 1886; Also sprach Zarathtistra, Chemnitz, 1883-1884; Jenseits von Gut und Bose, Leipsic, 1886 ; Zur Genealogie der Moral, 1887. Works ed. by A. Tille; translations by T. Common, 1896). — Tr.] 558 MODERN PHILOSOPHY gence. As the curative or catagmatic power in nature, it heals wounds and fractures, like the most skilful physician. Hence it is intelligent^ but unconscious ; it knows without knowing that it knows. This distinction between intelligence and inner apper- ception is not WQ^Y ; we find it in Leibniz and in Schelling. But Hartmann was the first to formulate it witli perfect clearness, and to support it by a great mass of facts. It would, however, be a mistake to regard the doctrine that ideas guide the will as creating an essential difference between the disciple and the master ; for Schopenhauer, too, has his Platonic idcas^ which serve as stages in the evolution of the will. Besides, Hartmann's idea cannot hinder the absolute from 'willing^ i. e., from realizing itself in a world in Avhich the evil necessarily and inhnitely exceeds the good, and to which, though it be the best possible world, nothingness would be preferable. All tliat it can do is to guide the cosmical evolution, and to influ- ence the absolute, by producing a more profound feeling of the universal misery and a more complete knowledge of the secret of things (in a word, by developing con- sciousness), not to will to be : which would mean the end of the world. Here, then, the difference between dis- ciple and master is more apparent than real. According to Hartmann as well as according to Schopenhauer, tlie exist- ence of the world is an evil, since it is synonymous with pain, sorrow, and anguish, — feelings which recur, in dif- ferent degrees, in myriads of sensible creatures. But, iu Schopenhauer's opinion, tlie evil is irreparable : the woi*ld and, consequently, the pains are eternal, and only the indi- viduals that die are relatively redeemed. According to Hartmann, on the other hand, who rests on the principle that no development is 'ivitliout beginning or cnd^ and as- sumes a creation and an end of the world, the evil is reparable : redemption is universal, and even the abso- SCHOPENHAUER 559 lute is ultimately redeemed.^ Only, this redemption is not finals for we have no assurance that the latent state to which the will returns is final, that it will not be re-aroused, I that there will not be a new world, that is, a new hell. Chance has produced the present universe ; the same chance may, in the future, produce an indefinite num- ber of worlds, that is, hells. And here we are back in the doctrine of Schopenhauer. Voluntarism and idealism cannot really be reconciled, unless we reform the very notion of will^ on which the pessimistic system is grounded. Master and disciple both err, not in regarding the will as the essence of things, — that is what it is, — but in making it radically and irreme- diabty immoral by assigning as its goal life as such, exist- ence at any cost. Now, existence does not give the will the supreme satisfaction which it craves, unless it be devoted to a higher end. Hence, life is not the absolute end of the creative will, and this is not the will-to-live {dcr Wilh zum Leben)^ but the will which strives for the good, by using life as a means, or, should occasion demand, by sacrificing life {cler Wille zum Gufen mittels des Lehens). The good, for pessimism, consists in unmaking what the will has made, and, finally, — for the very fact of willing is folly,^ — in not willing at all; according to us, it con- sists in perfecting the will, in organizing it, in fashioning it by means of morality. 1 llartmann calls this liis cvolut'wrmtic optimism in opposition to Schopenhauer's absolute pessimism; i. e., he makes the historical evolution culminate at least in tlie ne_q;ativ(3 happiness of nothingness, while Schopenhauer recognizes in reality neither history, nor evolution, nor progress of any sort. '^ In reality God himself committed the " folly " of willing to exist, and, in this sense, his folly is " wiser than the wisdom of men " (St, Paul) ; felix culpa (Augustine). 560 MODEllN PHILOSOPHY § 69. Darwin and Contemporary Monism^ At this point of its evolution, German philosophy approx- imates the teachings of Hobbes and La Mettrie. Schopen- hauer's system is bound to spiritualism by a very slender thread. Schopenhauer censures phrenology for assuming a connection between the will and a definite portion of the brain : the will is the producer and not the product of organization, a primary principle, preceding the physical organization, and, consequently, independent of the func- tions of the brain. But though he refuses to let material- ism have the will, he abandons to it the intellect, which, he declares, results from brain-action. He holds, moreover, with Kant, that the phenomenal world, and, consequently, the brain itself, which forms a part of it, does not exist inde- 1 Besides the two principal works of Charles Darwin, Origin of Species, and Descent of Man, see especially, David Strauss, Der alte undneue Glaube, 1872 [seep. 562] ; E. Haeckel, NatUrliche ScJibpfangs- geschichte, Berlin, 1868 ff. ; [Engl, tr.. Natural History of Creation, 1875] ; Oscar Schmidt, Descendenzlehre und Darwinismus, Leipsic, 1873 ; [Engl. tr., The Doctrine of Descent and Darwinism (^International Scientifc Series)"]; L. Noire. Der monistische Gedanke, Leipsic, 1875; Aphoris- men zur monistischen Philosophie, 1877. [See also : T. Huxley, Man's Place in Nature ^ London, 1863; same author, Lectures on the Origin of Species, New York, 1892 ; H. Spencer, Principles of Biology, London, 1863-67; E. Haeckel, Anthropogenie, Leipsic, 187-1 ff. ; English tr., New York, 1895 ; E. v. Hartmann, Wahrheit und Irrthum im Darwin- ismus^ Berlin, 1875 (Truth and Error in Darwinism, tr. in Journal of Speculative Philosophy, vols. XI.-XIIl.) ; A. Weismann, Studien zur Descendenztheorie, 2 pts., Leipsic, 1875-76; H. "W. Conn, Evolution of To-Day, New York, 1886 ; A. R. Wallace, Darwinism, London, 1889 ; G. Romanes, Darwin and after Darivin : I., The Darwinian Theory y London, 1892 ; II., Post- Darwinian Questions (edited by Lloyd Mor- gan), 1895 ; O. Ilamann, Entwickelungslehre und Darwinismus, Jena, 1892; R. Schmid, Die Darwinsche Theorie und ihre Stellung zur Philosophic, Religion, und Moral, Stuttgart, 1876 ; J. G. Schurman, The Ethical Import of Darwinism, New York, 1887 ; T. Huxley, Evolution and Ethics, London, 1893; A. Schleicher, Die darwinsche Theorie und die SprachvissenschaftfWeimsiY, 1865; 3d ed., 1873. — Tr.] DARWIN AND CONTEMPORARY MONISM 5G1 pendently of the intdlect. The brain and the intellect mutu- ally condition each other ; neither exists without the other. The will alone does not, in any way, depend upon organ- ized matter. However, this will, which strives exclusively for existence, differs, neither in principle nor in fact, from the " force " of the materialists. Tlie Rcalcn of Herbart, on the other hand, are so much like " atoms " as to be mistaken for them. The monads of Leibniz perceive of themselves ; Herbart's " perception " remits from the interpenetration of his Realen^ and is not native to them : by themselves they are as unintelligent as atomism's centres of force. Accord- ing to Herbart as Avell as according to materialism, intelli- gence is a product, not a principle. Similarly, that which Hegel calls the creative idea is not conscious intelligence ; it is a principle that becomes conscious intelligence when it is provided with a cerebrum. Where, then, is the essential difference between an unconscious principle and what mate- rialism calls force-matter? Besides, Hegel, like Schopen- hauer, Spinoza, and Bruno, agrees with materialism in rejecting the dogma of the creation and government of the world by a supra-cosmic will, the immortality of the soul, and free-will, i. e., tJie essential doctrines of spiritualism. The Hegelian conception of things and the materialistic philosophy are fundamentally the same, however opposite they may be in form : both substitute naturalism and mon- ism for theism and dualism. Hegelians, abandon ambigu- ous terms ! Call things by their right names ! Do not designate the substance which exists prior to intelligence idea^ but matter ! What distinguishes us from the mateii- alists is, ultimately, the method we employ. Noav, ours is manifestly false, theirs is evidently the true one ; hence, let us unite with them ! So spoke the liberal Hegelians, particularly LuDWiG Feuerbach,i renowned for his works 1 Son of the jurist, Anselm Fenerbach ; 1804-1872 ; complete works, 10 vols., Leipsic, 1846 ff. [Cf. K. Griiii, L. Feuerbach,2 vols., Leipsic, 1874.] 36 562 MODERN PHILOSOPHY on Das Wescn ties Christcntlmms ^ and Das Wesen der JRe- ligion,^ who was afterwards joined by David Strauss.^ Thus materialism,^ reinforced by the descendants of Hegelianism and popularized by such talented writers as Jacob Moleschott,^ Ludwig Buchner,^ Carl Vogt,' and Ernst Haeckel,^ became in Germany what it had been in France since the eighteenth century : an intellectual power of the highest order, firmly resting upon the basis of facts and having in its favor the double advantage of per- fect clearness and comprehensive, thorough knowledge. 1 IThe Essence of Christianity'], Leipsic, 1841. "Anthropology is the secret of theology. God is man worshipping himself. The Trinity is the human family deified.'' 2 Leipsic, 1845. 3 1808-1874. Author of Das Lehen Jesu, Tubingen, 1835-36 ; [The Life of Christ, tr. by George Eliot, London, 1846 ff.] ; Der alte und der neue Glauhe, 1872 ff. ; [Engl. tr. by M. Blind, London, 1873. Collected works, ed. by E. Zeller, 12 vols., Bonn, 1870-78. Cf. A. Hausrath, David Friedrich Strauss und die Theologie seiner Zeit, 2 vols., Heidel- berg, 1876-1878. — Tr.] ^ [See P. Janet, Le matdrialisme contemporain, 6th ed., Paris, 1893 ; Engl. tr. by G. Masson, London, 1866. — Tr.] 5 [1822-1893.] Der Kreislauf des Lehens, Mainz, 1852 ; 4th ed., 1 802 •, Die Einheit des Lehens, Giessen, 1864. 6 [Born 1824.] Kraft und Stoff, Frankfort, 1855 ; 16th ed., 1888; [Engl, tr., Force and Matter, by CoUingvvood, 4th ed., London, 1881]; Naturund Geist, 1857 ff. ; SecJis Vorlesungen uherdie Darwinsche Theorie, Leipsic, 1868 ff.; [Die Stellung des Menscheii, etc., Leipsic, 1869 f . ; Engl, tr., Man in the Past, Present, and Future, by W. F. Dallas, Lon- don, 1872.] 7 [1817-1895.] Phjsiologische Briefe, Stuttgart, 1845-47; Kolder- glauhe und Wissenschaft, Giessen, 1854 ; Vorlesungen iiher den Menschen, Giessen, 1863. 8 [Born 1834.] Generelle ]\T<>rphnlogie der Organismen, Berlin, 1806 ff. ; Natiirliche Schopfungsgeschichte, Berlin, 1808, 8th ed., 1889 ; [Engl, tr.. Natural History of Creation, New York, 1892; Anthropogenie, Leip- sic, 1874 ff. ; Engl, tr., The Evolution of Man, New York, 1895; Ge- sammelte popular e Vortrdge. 1878 ff, ; Engl, tr., Popular Lectures, 1883. ^Tr] DABWIN AND CONTEMPORARY MONISM 563 Its alliance with political and religious radicalism gained for it the sympathies of the public, and it receives support from a number of recent discoveries and scientific theories. It appeals to the transformistic theory of Lamarck ^ and Charles Darwin ^ against the miracle of creation; to the anatomical study of anthropoid apes, against the view that there is an insurpassable gulf between animals and man, matter and mind ; ^ to the advance of chemical synthesis, against the phantom of the vital j^rinclple ; ^ to the theory of the equivalence and transformation of forces ^ and electrological discoveries,^ against the hypothesis of a 1 [1744-1829.] Philosophie zoologique, Paris, 1809 ; [new ed. by C. Martins, Paris, 1873]. 2 [1809-1882.] On the Origin of Species hy means of Natural Selec' tion, London, 1859 ff. ; \_The Descent of Man, id., 1871; The Expression of the Emotions in Man and Animals, id., 1872 ; etc. See Francis Dar- win, Life and Letters of Charles Darwiji., London, 1887. Bibliography in J. W. Spengel, Die Darwinsche Theorie, 2d ed., Berlin, 1872. Cf. § 69, note 1. — Tr.]. 3 Huxley, Man's Place in Nature, London, 1863 ; Vogt, Vorlesungen iiber den Menschen, seine Stellung in der Schopfung und in der Geschichte der Erde, French translation by Moiilinie, 1865. 4 R. Virchow [born 1821] Der alte und neue Vitalismus {Archiv filr pathologische Anatomie und Physiologic, IX., 1-2). 5 Sir Humphry Davy [1778-1829]. Faraday [1791-1867]. J. R. Mayer [1814-1878, Bemerkungen iiher die Krdfte der unhelebten Natur, 1842. His treatises were collected under the title, Die Mechanik der Warme, 2d ed., Stuttgart, 1874. Cf. E. Diihring, R. Mayer, der Galilei des 19. Jahrhunderts, Chemnitz, 1880. — Tr.]. H. Helmholtz [1821- 1895], Ueber die Erhaltung der Kraft, Berlin, 1847 ; Ueher die Wech- sehcirl'ung der Noturkrdfte, Konigsberg, 1854 ; both in Vortrdge und Reden, 3d ed., Braunschweig, 1884; Engl, tr.. Popular Lectures, New York, 1881]. G. A. Hirn, Esquisse de la the'orie mecnnique delachaleur, 1864. John Tyndall [1820-1893], Heat considered as a Mode oj Mo- tion, London, 1863 ; Matter and Force, id., 1866. Combes [1811-1872], Exposition de la theorie mecanique de la chaleur. Dupuy, Transforma- tion des forces. W. Grove [born 1811], On the Correlation of Physical Forces, London, 1846 ; 6th ed., 1874. ^ E. Dn Bois-Reymond [born 1818], Untersuchungen iiher thierische Elektriciiat, 2 vols., Berlin, 1848-84. 564 MODERN PHILOSOPHY separate force for the explanation of thought ; to the geo- logical theory of gradual evolutions and impercejDtible changes,^ against the" theory of cataclysms,^ behind which, according to materialism, lurks the belief in the arbitrary intervention of a supernatural power ; finally, to the many conclusive facts which prove, beyond the shadow of a doubt, that a relation exists between the brain and thought, against the spiritualistic distinction between soul and body. Of all these innovations, the Darwinian theory is the one which materialism appropriated most readily, and to which it is most indebted. This theory answers the follow- ing cardinal question, which had remained unsolved until the days of Darwin : How can the purposiveness which is revealed in the structure and arrangement of our organs be produced without the intervention of an intelligent creative cause, and through the purely mechanical action of unconscious forces? or, rather: How can we explain finality [purposiveness, teleology] Avithout final causes?^ Darwinism provides materialism with a satisfactory answer to the main objection of theistic spiritualism, and thereby becomes its indispensable ally. So close is this alliance that Darwinism and materialism are regarded as synony- mous terms. Ever since the eighteenth century two systems have been opposing each other.* According to the one, which rests on the supposed immutability of species, every animal and vegetable species has been created independently of all its congeners (the creationism of Linnseus and Cuvier) ; according to tlie other, v/hose principles were formulated 1 C. Lyoll [1707-1875], Principles of Gcologi{, London, 1830; 11th ed., 1872.' 2 Georges Cuvier [1709-1 8o2], Discoiirs sm^ hs revolnfiomi cle. la surface flu globe (Litrodnction to Reclierclie.'^ .oly technique^ then became a tutor and examiner in this school, which, under the Restoration, con- tinued the traditions of the eighteenth century. His Cours de pMIosophie positive ^ placed him among the original think- ^ Dr. Ed. Loweiithal, St/stem und Geschichte des Naturalis7nus, Leip- sic, 1861; 5th ed., 1868. 2 6 vols., Paris, 1839-12 ; 2d ed., with a Preface by Littre, Paris, 1864; [English version freely translated and condensed by Harriet jNFartineau, London, 1853. Later writings : Systeme de politique posi- tire, 4 vols., Paris, 1851-54 (Engl, tr., 1875-77) ; Catecldmne positiviste, 1853 (Engl. tr. by Congreve, 1858, 2d ed., 1883). See Littre, Cnynte et hi pMlosoplne positiviste, Paris, 1863; 2d ed., 1864; J. S. Mill, Comte and Positivism, London, 1865; 3d ed., 1882; B. Piinjer, Der Positivis- 7nuilosop]ufjue, 1865; Le cerveau et la pensee, 1867; Elements de morale, 1869; [Engl. tr. by Corson, 1884]; Histoire de la science politique dans ses rapports avec la morale, 3d ed., 1887; [La morale, 1874; Engl. tr. by Mary Chap- man, London, 1883]; Les causes finales, 2d ed., 1882; [Engl. tr. by Affleck, London, 1883] ; etc. [On this entire school see A. Franck, Moralistes et philosopJies , 1872; 2d ed., 1874.] tion to all this '■'■ mode'rateur tout-pmssant de Venseignement pldlosophique''' in the University, under the reign of Louis-Philippe. Cours de lliis- toire de la pkilosopJiie moderne, first series (1815-20); second series (1828-30); Fragments philosopJiiques, 1826; 5th ed., 1866 (5 vols.); etc. — V. Cousin, who was a zealous adherent of German philosophy during his earlier period, did not really teach a thorough-going spirit- ualism until he reached his official stage. See on Cousin a lengthy article in the second edition of the Dictionnaire des sciences phi- losopJiiques, and on his relation to German philosophy and especially to Hegel, a series of articles by Janet in the Revue des Deux-Mondes. 592 MODERN PHILOSOPHY losopliy with a great number of magnificent works, ^ it has the merit of having explained, in the acute analyses of Maine de Biran, the important role played by the will, a fact which the sensationalistic school fails to recognize. But while German spiritualism makes the serious mistake of assign- ing to the imagination too exalted a place in its specula- tions, and even shows a willingness to compromise with American spiritism, eclecticism, — the name given to French spiritualism by V. Cousin, — errs in sacrificing too much to rhetoric, and in not sufficiently taking into account the two factors which philosophy cannot neglect with im- punity : positive science and its monistic principle. ^ Some of its contemporaneous representatives, particu- larly the ablest among them, frankly acknowledge the justice of these criticisms. The pronounced advance of positivistic and materialistic philosophy is due to its close alliance with the physical and natural sciences. In order to combat it we must recognize the elements of truth it contains ; we must assimilate it, absorb it, as Hegel would say, in order to overcome it. Now, positivism is unques- tionably in the right when it declares the age of " romance- metaphysics," a-priorism, and fancy to be at an end. By subjecting philosophy to the methods of science, positivism deprives it of a prerogative which has no raison d'etre in the present state of human development. Only on condition 1 To the names already mentioned we may add those of Francisque Bouillier, Haureau, Matter, Willm, Remusat, Damiron, Saisset, Bar- tholmess, Jales Simon, Nonrrisson, Barthelemy-Saint-Hilaire, Ad. Franck, Ch. Waddington, Caro, Alaiix, Ferraz, etc. For Vacherot, whose idealism differs essentially from the eclectic doctrines, see p. 533, note 1. 2 Eclecticism was opposed from different and even opposite points of view, by Bordas-Demoulin (Lett re sur V eclecticisme et le docirinarisme, Paris, 1834), Pierre Leronx {Refutation de re'clecticisme, 1839), Taine (Les philosophes dassiques f)ywcais du XTX. siecle, 1^57; 3d ed., 1868), Secretan {La philosophie de V. Cousin, 1868), etc. CONCLUSION 593 that it proceed scientifically can philosophy, temporarily separated from the sciences, regain its former high rank among the branches of human knowledge. In our opinion, positivism errs in that it makes science purely utilitarian, or discrowns it, so to speak, by denying to the human mind all knowledge of objects and the essence of things, all metaphysical capacity. It is true, philosophy must identify itself with science in its methods and final goal. But take note that every science, worthy of tlie name, is the search for a system of laws, principles, or causes, i. e., a search for the universal, something supe- rior to the phenomenon, a suprasensible reality, in a Avord, * a jierac^vcriKov. Hence, every serious science is a partial metaphysic, and philosophy is really a general metaphysic, a metaphysic of the universe. It is furthermore true that knowledge is relative, and that the thing-m-itself (the term introduced by criticism) is never known ; but this re- lation is evidently determined hy the nature of the thing hiown as well as by our intellectual organization. And finally, experience, joined with speculation, is, without doubt, the indispensable basis of all positive knowledge. But experience, the reasoned study of facts, outer and inner observation, gives us, if not an absolutely clear view, at least a glimpse, of the essence of things ; that is, it arrives gradually, and not at once, at metaphysical conclusions which justify or refute the intuitions of speculative philosophy. Ignoring this threefold truth, positivism is absolutely sceptical of all hj^potheses concerning the first and final causes of the world. It confuses two entirely different things : dualism, a passing form of human thouglit, and metaphysics, its permanent and legitimate goal. It fails to see that its protest against metaph3"sics at the same time attacks the very sciences which it pretends to substitute for metaphysics. If this protest were just, then physics, chem- istry, the natural and moral sciences, would all have to give 38 594 MODERN PHILOSOPHY up formulating universal tlieories ; for every scientific tlieoiy is a relatively a priori hypothesis, so long as new facts may be adduced to contradict it, and as this possibility always exists, the most firmly established scientific theory cannot lay claim to the dignity of an axiom. After a the- ory has been confirmed by a great mass of facts, it acquires a certain stability and a relative certitude which is prac- tically equivalent to absolute certitude. Positivism over- looks tlie fact that the same holds true of philosophy ; it forgets that, though ahsolufe certainty concerning the first causes of the universe is impossible, we can at least attain to a degree of relative certainty, or probability, which is, practically, equal to al)Solute certainty. One phase of the history of metaph3\sics, the a-prioristic, intuitive, poetic period, is gone, — gone never to return, but metaphysics itself still remains, and its interests, as we have just seen, coincide with those of science. To the argument of positivism that metaphysics is in a state of endless clmnge, we oppose the entire history just outlined by us. If anything has changed and continuall}^ changes, it is the liypotlieses of physics, chemistry, and physiology; and if anything has remained in agreement with itself, for more than two thousand years, it is meta- physics. The great hypotheses of the unity, continuity, and immortality of being, existed prior to Plato and Aris- totle, and constitute the immutable substance, as it were, of ancient and modern speculation. To the argument drawn from the perpetual disagreement of philosophers, we answer that the historian of metaphysics is most impressed with the open or tacit agreement ex- istinof between rival movements and schools. We have discovered such agreement between Plato and Democritus, Descartes and Bacon, Leibniz and Schopenhauer, Herbart and Heofel. We have seen how tlie idealist Plato assumes the eternity of tlie /x^ ov, and the materialist Democritus CONCLUSION oyo proclaims the principle tliat everything in nature has its reason for existing ; we have observed that the intellec- tualist Descartes agrees with the liead of the empirical school in protesting against the application of teleology to physics ; we have shown that the atomist Herbart assumes a first cause, and that Hegel, his antipode, considers the atom as a necessary form of being ; that Leibniz, the opti- mist, and Schopenhauei', the pessimist, both teach that '' effort'' is the essence of things. Tliis agreement would be even more complete, were it not for the suljjective elements which play an essential part in the formation of systems. Take away from each that which is the result of the circumstances under which it was produced, tlie self-love of the philosopher, liis desire to be original, all the particular, accidental, and fortuitous elements due to his nationality and individual character ; take away, above all, the numberless misconceptions occa- sioned by the imperfections of philosophical language, — ■ and you will find, at the bottom of all these theories, one and the same fundamental theme, one and the same phi- losophy, one and the same system, to the construction of which each pliilosopher adds his share. Even where the disagreement between the thinkers is real, it is not abso- lute. Among the ancients as well as among the moderns, the following are the essential questions at stake : Has the universe one or many causes, a conscious or an unconscious cause ? What is the origin of our knowledge, and the true philosophical method ? Is metaphysics possible ? On these important, ontological, methodological, and critical ques- tions, philosophers are divided into monists and pluralists, spiritualists and materialists, idealists or rationalists and sensationalists or empiricists, dogmatists and sceptics. How- ever, none of these systems has ever been so radical as not to take into account, in a certain measure, the contrary teaching. 596 MODERN PHILOSOPHY To begin with ; has there ever been a monistic or plu- ralistic system in the absolute sense of tlie word ? We can deny it without fear of being contradicted by history. The most characteristic monistic systems are, in antiquity: Eleatism and Neo-Platonism ; in modern times : Spinozism and the philosophies of Fichte and Hegel. Well, we have seen how Parmenides was obliged to concede, at the very least, an apparent plurality of individual beings ; we have seen how Empedocles divided his '' Great Being," on the one hand, into two co-eternal rival principles : love and hate ; on the other, into four irreducil)le elements ; we have seen that Platonism recognizes, by the side of the Idea, a fXT] 6v co-eternal with the plastic principle ; we have seen that Spinoza discovers in his ''one and indivisible sub- stance " two " attributes," i. e., two things that cannot be reduced into terms of each other: extension and thought. Finally, the most radical among modern monists, Fichte and Hegel, begin by proclaiming, — the former, the identity of the ego and tlie non-ego ; the latter, the absoluteness of reason, and subsequently confess, reluctantly, no doubt, (1) that the non-ego remains for reason an insurmountable ol)stacle ; (2) that there is, in nature, alongside of the rational element, an illogical, contingent element, which presupposes a principle different from reason. Hence, even the most decided monists advance a relative dualism. Conversely, we have ascertained that the most charac- teristic pluralistic systems acknowledge the I'elative truth of monism. Democritus affirms the qualitative identity of atoms, and his pluralism is merely a plural monism. Leib- niz connects his "windowless" monads by means of "pre- establislied harmony," which, in Ins system, represents the monistic principle, and his pliilosopliy too is, ultimately, nothing but a plural monism, since all of his monads have the same essence : perception and striving. By insisting on the unity of substance in the universe, on the unity CONCLUSION 597 of forces, on the unity of laws, does not contemporaneous atomism clearly betray its monistic or unitary preposses- sions? Hence, the most rigorous pluralists advance a relative monism. Between materialism, which recognizes no invisible real- ities except atoms and infinite space, and spiritualism, w^hich adds to the universe a transcendent order of things, we have : Ionian hylozoism, which regards the cosmic sub- stance itself as intelligence, wisdom, reason, and harmony ; Peripateticism, which affirms both the transcendency and the immanency of the absolute ; Stoicism and its divine world-soul ; and modern Pantheism, which distinguishes between thought and apperception, and conceives God either as will (panthelism), or as impersonal reason (panlo- gism), which manifests itself in the world and becomes conscious of itself in the human personality. And take note of this fact ! With a few rare exceptions, the leaders of European philosophy are not to be found among the pure materialists, or in the camp of the spiritualists ; we must look for them between the two camps. We have seen, in the controversy concerning the origin of ideas, that Leibniz, the defender of the theory of innate- ness, and Locke, the champion of sensationalism, are much more closely related than they themselves suspect ; neither assuming anything to be innate but the facvdty of forming ideas ; we have seen hoAv Kant sides with both of them, by showing that the matter of all our perceptions is fur- nished by the senses, and that the form of all^ without exception, is the product of the sensible subject, the effect of the particular constitution of the mind: a synthesis which physiology and psychology tend more and more to confirm.^ When we consider the question of method, which is in- timately connected with the preceding, we find the same ^ See especially Helmholtz, Physiologische Optik, p. 455. 598 MODERN PHILOSOPHY tacit (and most frequently unconscious) agreement between the rival views. Aristotle, Descartes, and Leibniz are sci- entists of the highest order ; Bacon, Locke, and Hume are eminent reasoners. No intellectualist, not even excepting Fichte himself, has ever seriously denied that an empirical datum is, acttially, the starting-point of a priori specula- tion ; no empiricist has ever, actually^ repudiated deductive reasoning. And it is important to note, in conclusion, that, since the overtlu'ow of Hegelianism, competent thinkers are becoming more and more agreed as to method. This ques- tion will no longer interest the future. Philosophy is subject to the common law. Henceforth its methods are those of science : speculative observation, deduction based on facts, and induction. The distinction which Hegel draws between the philosophical and the non-philosophical sciences, is no longer recognized in our times. Every sci- ence is necessarily philosophical, every philosophy, woi'thy of the name, necessarily scientific. We fully understand at present, that, as Bacon excellently expresses it, the im- portant thing is not so much to know the abstract opinions of men, as the nature of things. Under the influence of this view, the mania for original systems will gradually disappear. Progress in philosophy consists less in the pro- duction of new hypotheses than in the empirical demonstra- tion of the true hypotheses which European metaphysics has bequeathed to us, and in the refutation, likewise em- pirical, of its errors. The personalities of the philosophers, their great and little ambitions, their individual likes and dislikes, all of which played an ail-too important part in the history of philosophy, especially during the first half of the nineteenth century, will gradually lose in influence, and theories will ultimately depend on the facts and on the facts alone. Henceforth philosophy will be what Bacon, Descartes, Locke, and Kant desired it to be : a science^ — • CONCLUSION 699 the highest science. Comtian positivism has the merit of having contributed liberally to these results. Though more violent and radical in appearance, the op- position between the dogmatists and sceptics is by no means an absolute one. All the systems of Greece reveal a more or less pronounced tinge of scepticism, while Hellenic scepticism culminates in a form of probabilism which amounts to relative dogmatism. In modern times we see how the type of metaphysical dogmatism, the system of Leibniz, ends with a question-mark : Since the monad has no " windows," how can it know that which is not itself ? And on the other hand, the fearless destroyer of traditional metaphysics, Immanuel Kant, had no sooner completed his work of destruction than he wrote his Prolegomena to every Future Metaphysics^ liis Metaphysics of Nature^ and his Meta- physics of Morals. Positivism itself, though asserting that metaphysics is a chimera, is the intimate ally of material- ism, i. e., a system of metaphysics, and thus involuntarily furnishes the proof ad homiiiein of the legitimacy, nay of the inevitable necessity, of an ontology, the final goal and highest reward of the labors of the scientist. Does that mean that materialism is the culmination of European philosophy and human knowledge ? It is true, this system is sujDported by facts when it claims that an intimate relation exists between inner perception and the regular functions of the brain ; it has for it the authority of reason when it proclaims the essential unity of things and the principle of universal causality, that is, in a word, monism ; but it is like idealism, its opposite. It has the appearance of a universal synthesis, but explains only one- half of that which it pretends to explain. We have seen what insurmountable obstacles confront all idealistic think- ers in their attempts to pass from the ideal to the real. Plato succeeded in the accomplishment of this task, only by sacrificing absolute idealism, and interpolating the hy- 600 MODERN PHILOSOPHY pothesis of a non-heing, co-eternal with the idea. Hegel solved the problem, only by declaring that the idea includes being, which amounts to abandoning idealism properly so-called: for the idea which involves reality, thought which implies force, is 77iore than an idea, 7}iore than thought, and the name idea, given to the principle of things thus conceived, is inadequate to the thing expressed. Material- ism is confronted with the opposite difficulty : How can we derive the one from the many, the indivisible ego from the aggregation of atoms called the brain? Hence, those among its adherents who are true philosophers love to call themselves, as we have observed, not materialists, but monists. They see that to frodiice intelligence means to contain it, potentially at least ; that the being from which the idea is derived is not the three-dimensional body, matter in the real sense of the term, but the higher unity whence proceed loth matter and thought. Now this synthesis of Idea and Force, whither idealism and speculative materialism are tending, is not a mere pos- tulate of reason, a metaphysical hypothesis, — flatus vocis, — but ?i fact, nay, the most immediate fact of every one's experience : we mean the Will. Modern science has re- duced matter to force, and Leibniz very aptly said : No substance without effort. Now, to make effort means to will. If effort constitutes the essence of matter, the will must be the basis, the substance, and the generative cause of matter. On the other hand, effort is also the source of perception, for there can be no perception without atten- tion, and no attention without effort. Perception proceeds from will, and not vice versa} Hence, the ivill is, in the last analysis, the higher unity of Force and Idea, the common denominator, and the only one to which physics and morals ^ W. Wundt, Physiologisclie PaycJiologie : Kein Bewusstsein ohne WillenstJiatigkeit. Cf. Theodor Lipps, GrundthatsacJien des SeelenlebenSf p. 601 : Das Streben Uldet den elgentUchen Kern des Seelenlehens. CONCLUSION 601 can he reduced : it is being in its fulness. Everything else is merely a phenomenon. Compared to the effort which produces them, realizes them, constitutes them, matter and thought are nothing but accidents : both exist only through the act which produces them. The will is at the basis of every tiling (Ravaisson ^j ; it is not only the essence of the human soul (Duns Scotus, Maine de Biran, Bartholm^ss), the primary phenomenon of psychical life (Wundt), but the universal phenomenon (Schopenhauer), the basis and the substance of being (Secretan 2), the only absolute principle (Schelling^). On this principle, as Aristotle says, depend the heavens and all nature. Materialism cannot explain the ego. Bi-substantialistic spiritualism, which regards thought as the essence of mind, and opposes it to extension, the supposed essence of matter, is incapable of explaining nature ; " extended substance '* and " thinking substance " are realized abstractions. Con- crete spiritualism alone, Avhich considers vnll as the ground of all things and the common substance of tlie " two worlds," is a truly universal metaphysic, combining, to use the words of Leibniz,^ " whatever there is of good in the hypotheses of Epicurus and of Plato, of the greatest materialists and the greatest idealists." Hence in this respect as Avell as in many others, we observe a significant agreement between the present leaders of speculative and positive metaphj^sics ; and this agreement — consensus dissentientium — is, unques- tionably, the most characteristic phenomenon in the philo- sophic movement of our times. Moreover, contemporaneous voluntarism differs essen- tially from the system of Schopenhauer.^ According to ^ Rapport sur la philosophie fran<;aise au dix-neuvihne siecle. 2 Revue pldlo^ophique, VII., 3, p. 304. ^ gee p. 487 ff. * Replique aux reflexions de Bayle. ^ For the difference between pessimistic voluntarism and melior- istic voluntarism, see my treatises : ]VUle zum Lehen oder Wille zum 602 MODERN I'HILOSOPHY this philosopher, the will strives for being and nothing but being. Now nature, or to speak in the language of the new metaphysics, the will, strives after being, undoubt- edly, but it does so in order to realize, through this relative end, an absolute end : the good. If it had no other end than being, it would find complete and supreme satisfac- tion in life, even without morality. Now experience superabundantly proves that the man who lives simply for the sake of living becomes surfeited, and that he alone is not surfeited with life who lives for something higher than life. Besides, a will that is supposed to strive, necessarily and fatally^ for being and nothing but being, could not turn against itself, as happens in suicide, and as Schopen- hauer himself urges it to do in his doctrine of the nega- tion of the will, although otherwise condemning the avTo-x^eipia. Finally, if the ground of things were the will- to-live at any cost^ we should be utterly unable to under- stand the voluntary death of a Leonidas or a Socrates, and of all such in whom there is somethinof miofhtier than the will-to-live. We may, it is true, refuse to believe in the disinterestedness of these sacrifices, in the good desired and done for its own sake, — in a word, in duty. But we may with equal right, and with no less reason, deny the reality of the world, and treat existence itself as an illu- sion. We must confess, there is no other proof for the existence of a world apart from ourselves than the impera- tive of the senses, the self-evidence with which reality forces itself upon our sensibility. Now, in fact^ duty is no less evident than the imperative of the senses. The illusions of sense, which philosophy detected at the very beginning of its history, do not hinder the world from being a reality, quite different, it is true, from that which the senses show us, but still a reality ; and in so far the Guten ? Ein Vortrag uber Eduard von nartmami's PJiUosophie, Stras- l)iirg', 1882 ; Ueber die Rolle des WUlens in der Religion, 1888. CONCLUSION 603 senses are veridical. Similarly, however variable and fal- lible conscience may be in the matter of its prescriptions, their very form compels us to recognize a moral order as the essence and soul of the universe. Whatever part anthropomorphism may play in the vocabulary of Kantian ethics, we must agree that this form is imperative, that there is something even behind our will-to-live, that there is above our individual will a higher and more excellent will, which strives after the ideal ( Wille zum Guten). This, and not the Wille zum Lehen of Schopenhauer, is the true essence and the first cause of being, sitbstantia sive Deits, Thus freed from the wholly accidental and passing alli- ance formed with pessimism in Schopenhauer's system, the monism of the will is the synthesis towards which the three factors which, as we have seen, co-operate in the de= velopment of Euroj^ean philosophy (§ 4) are tending. These factors are : reason, which postulates the essential unity of things (Parmenides, Plotinus, Spinoza), experience, which reveals the universality of struggle, effort, will (Heraclitus, Leibniz, Schelling), and conscience, which affirms the moral ideal, the ultimate end of the creative effort and universal becoming (Plato, Kant, Fichte). Nature is an evolution, of which infinite Perfection is both the motive force and the highest goal (Aristotle, Des- cartes, Hegel). BIBLIOGRAPHY [Modern works on Logic and Episteraology : M. Drobisch, Neue Darstellung der Logik, Leipsic, 183G, otli ed., 1887; J. S. Mill, Logic, London, 1843, 9th ed., 1875 ; K. Fischer, Logik und Meta- physih oder WissenscJiaftslehre, Heidelberg, 1852, 2d ed., 1865 ; J. Venn, Logic of Chance, London, 1866, 3d ed., 1887; same author, Empirical Logic, 1889 ; C. Sigwart, Logik, 2 vols., Frei- burg i. B., 1873-78, 2d ed., 1889-93 ; Engl, transl. from 2d ed. by Helen Dendy, 2 vols., London and New York, 1895 ; F. 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Spencer, Principles of Psychology, London, 1855 ; A. Ijain, Senses and InleUect, London, 1855,4th ed.. New York, 1894; Emotions and Will, London, 1859, 3d ed., 1875 ; M. Laz:irus, Das Lehen der Seele, Berlin, 1856-57, 3d ed., 3 vols., 1884; G. T. Fechner, Elemente der Psychophysik, Leipsic, 1860 ; W. Wundt, Vorlesnngen iiber Menschen- mid Thierseele, 1863 (see p. 58(5); Grundz'uge der phxj- siologischen Psychologic, 2 vols., Leipsic, 1873-74, 4th ed., 1893 ; H. Maudsley, The Physiology and Patliology of Mind, London, 1867 ; W. Carpenter, Principles of Mental Physiology, 4tli ed., 1876; A. Ilorwicz, Psych ologische Analysen auf physiologischer Grundlage, 3 vols., Magdeburg, 1872-78; F. YiXi^wi^wo, Psycho- logic vom empirischen Standpunhte, vol. L, Leipsic, 1874; W. F. Volkmann, Lehrhuch der Psychologic, 2 vols., Cothen, 1875, 4th ed., 1894 ; H. Steinthal, Einleitung in die Psychologic und Sprach- wissenschaft, 2d ed., Berlin, 1881 ; J. Sully, Illusions {Int. Science Series), 1881 ; C. Stumpf, Tonpsychologie, vol. I., Leipsic, 1883; vol. II., 1890; Ursprung der Raumvorstellung, 1873 ; Th. Lipps, Gnmdthatsachen des Seelenlehens, Bonn, 1883 ; H. Hoffding, Psy- chologic in Umrissen, tr. into German from the Danish, by Kurella, Leipsic, 1887, 2d ed., 1893; Engl, transl. from German, by M. Lowndes, London and New York, 1891 ; C. Lange, Ueher Gemuths- hewegungen^ Leipsic, 1887; G. T. Ladd, Elements of Physiological Psychology, New Y^ork, 1887; Psychology, Descriptive and Ex- planatory, id., 1894 ; H. Miinsterberg, Die Willenshandlung, Freiburg, 1888 ; Beitrdge zur experimentellen Psychologic, 1889 if. ; G. Sergi, La psycJtologie physiologique, from the Italian, Paris, 1888 ; W. James, The Principles of Psychology, 2 vols.. New bii5lioc;rapiiy 607 York, 1890; TIi. Ziehen, Lelifddca dcr plnjsiohu/ischen Psychologies 1891, 2(1 ed., 1893; Engl. trunsL, 1892, 2(1 ed., 1895; J. M. Baldwin, Handbook of Psychology, 2 vols., New York, 1891 ; J. Sully, The Human Mind, 2 vols., New York, 1892; A. Leh- man, Das inenschliche Gefiihlslebcn., Leipsic;, 1892: O. Kiilpe, Grundriss der Psychologic, Leipsic, 1893; Engl, transl. by E. B. Titchener, New York, 1895; A. Fouill(3e, La psyrhologie des idees-forces, Paris, 1893. Experimental Psychology, by Cattell, Sanford, and Tit(!heuer. — Kussmaul, Untersuchungen liber das See- lenleben des neugeborenen Menschen, Leipsic and lieidclbei'g, 1859 ; W. Preyer, Die Seele des Ki tides, \\\\ ed., Leipsic, 1895 (tr. in la- ter national Education Series) ; Me)ital Derelopment in the Cliild^ tr., ib., 1893 ; B. Perez, Les trois premieres annees de V enfant, Paris, 1882, 4th ed., 1888; Engl, transl. 1891; U enfant de trois a sept ans, 1886, 2d ed., 1888; IJ education morale diis le berceau, 1888; F. Tracy, Psychology of Childhood, Boston, 1893, 2d ed., 1894; J. M. Baldwin, Mental Development in the Child aiid the Place, New York, 1895 ; J. Snlly, Studies of Childhood, New York, 1896. — C. Darwin, The Descent of Man, London, 1871 ; Expression of the Emotions, 1872 ; G. H. Schneider, Der thierische Wille, Leipsic, 1880; Der menscJdiche Wille, Berlin, 1882 ; G. Romanes, Mental Evolution in Animals, London, 1883 ; Mental Evolution in Man, 1889; Galton, Inquiries into Human Faculty, London, 1883; Natural Inheritance, 1889; J. Lubbock, Ants, Bees, and Wasps, London, 1883; The Senses and Instincts of Animals, 1888 ; L. Morgan, Animal Life and Intelligence^ London, 1891 ; Introduction to the Study of Comparative Psychol- ogy, 1895 ; Espinas, Animal Societies. — II. Spencer, The Prin- ciples of Sociology, London, 1854; Th. Waitz, Anthropologie der Naturvijlker, Leipsic, 1859 If., 2d ed., by G. Gerland, 1877 ff. ; J. Lubbock, Prehistoric Times, London, 1865, 5th ed., 1889; Ori- gin of Civilization, 1870 ; E. B. Tyler, Primitive Culture, Lon- don, 1871 ; Anthropology , 1881 ; O. Peschel, Volkerkunde, Leipsic, 1874, 5th ed., by A. KirchhofT, 1881 ; J. Ranke, Der Mensch, 2 vols., 2d ed., Leipsic, 1894. — Griesinger, Die Pathologic und Therapie der psychischen Krankheiten, Stuttgart, 1845,4th ed., 1876; ^.m^t-YAnng, ,Lehrbuch der Psychiatric, bi\\ ed., Stuttgart, 1893 ; Mc^ynert, Psychiatric, Vienna, 1889; Lewis, 608 BIBLIOGRAPHY Text-book of Me7ital Diseases ; Starr, Familiar Forms of Nervous Disease, 2d ed., 1891 ; P. Janet, Detat mental des hysteriques, 2 vols., Paris, 1892-93; Ziehen, Psijchialrie ; also Th. Ribot, Dis- eases of the Will, Diseases of Memory, Diseases of Personality, mentioned before ; A. Binet, Les alterations de la personnalite, Paris, 1893. For hypnotism, see works of Charcot, Binet, Fere, Bernheim, Krafft-Ebing, Forel, Dessoir, Wundt, Schmidkunz, Moll, Gurney, Licgeois, etc. — Histories of Psychology : F. A. Cams, Leipsic, 1808; F. Harms, 2d ed., Berlin, 1879; H. Sie- beck, Gotha, 1880-84; M. Dessoir, Geschichte der neueren deutschen Psychologie, vol. I., Berlin, 1895 ; Th. Ribot's works on German and English psychology of to-day (see p. 586, note 7). Ethics: J. S. Mill, Utilitarianism (cited p. 581, note 2); E. DUhring, Der Werth des Lebens, 5th ed., Leipsic, 1894; E. Zeller, Vortrage und Abhandlungen, 3 series, Leipsic, 1865, 1877, 1884; Bain, Mental and Moral Science (p. 581, note 3) ; P. Janet (p. 591, note 1) ; A. Barratt, Physical Ethics^ London, 1869; B. Carneri, Sittlichkeit und Darivi7iismiis, Vienna, 1871, 2d ed., Leipsic, 1877 ; H. Calderwood, Handbook of Morality, London, 1872; H. Sidgwick, Methods of Ethics, London, 1874, 4th ed., 1890 ; F. H. Bradley, Ethical Studies, London, 1876 ; R. v. Jher- ing, Der Zweck im Recht, Leipsic, 1877-83, 2d ed., 1884-86 ; M. Carriere, Die sittUche Weltordnung, Leipsic, 1877; E. v. Hartmanu (p. 557) ; H. Spencer (p. 581); J. Baumann, Hand- buch der Moral, Leipsic;, 1879 ; B. Carneri, Grundlegung der Ethik, Vienna, 1881 ; Entivickelung und Gluckseligkeit, Stuttgart, 1886 ; Guyau, Esquisse d'u.ne morale sans obligation ni sanction, 2d ed., Paris, 1881 : W. Schuppe, GrundzUge der Ethik und Rechtsphilosophie, Breslau, 1882 ; W. li. Rolph, Biologische Probleme, Leipsic, 1882; L. Stephen, The Science of Ethics, Lon- don, 1882; J. H. Witte, Die Freiheit des Willens, Bonn, 1882; T. H. Green, Prolegomena to Ethics, London, 1883, 2d ed., 1887; G. V. Gizycki, GrundzUge der Moral, Leipsic, 1883, 2d ed., 1889 ; EngL tr. by S. Coit ; T. Fowler, Progressive Morality, London, 1884, 2d ed., 1895; Fowler and Wilson, Principles of Morality, 1886-1887, 2d ed., 1894 ; A. Dorner, System der christlichen Sitten- lehre, Berlin, 1885 ; H. Steinthal, Allgemeine Ethik, Berlin, 1885; BIBLIOGRAPHY 609 P. Ree, Die Entstehung des Gewc'ssens, Berlin, 1885 ; S. S. Laurie, MMca, London, 1885 ; N. Porter, Elements of Moral Science, New York, 1885 ; J. Martinean, Tijpes oj Ethical Theory, 2 vols., London, 1885, 3d ed., 1891; C. Sigwart, Vorfragen der Ethik, Freiburg, 188G ; W. Wundt (p. 58G) ; F. Tunnies, Gemeinschaft und Geselhchaft, Leipsic, 1887 ; II. Hoffding, Ethik, German transl. bv F. Bendixen, Leipsic, 1887 ; F. Nietzsche, Zur Gene- alogie der 3ToraI, Berlin, 1887, 2d ed., 1887 ; J. G. Schurman, The Ethical Import of Barivinism, New York, 1887 ; G. Riimelin, Reden und Aufsiitze, Freiburg, 1888 ; jNIartensen, Die christliche Ethik, 2 vols., Leipsic, 1872-78; Engl, trausl. in 3 vols., 1873-83 ; A. During, PhRosophische Gilterlehre, Berlin, 1888 ; S. Alexander, Moral Order and Progress, London, 1889 ; F. Paulsen, System der Ethik, Berlin, 1889, 4tli ed., 1895; H. Miinsterberg, Der Ursprung der SittUchkeit, Freiburg, i. B., 1889; F. Brentano, Voin Ursprnng sittliclier Erkennt- niss, Leipsic, 1889 ; Th. Ziegler, Sittliches Sein mid sitfUches Werden, Strasburg, 1890; J. S. Mackenzie, Irdroduction to Social Philosophy, London, 1890; A Manval of Ethics, New York, 2d ed., 1895 ; J. Dewe3^, Outlines of a Critical Theory of Ethics, New York, 1891 ; II. Gallwitz, Das Problem der Ethik in der Gegenwart, Leipsic, 1891 ; G. Runze, Ethik, vol. I., Prak- tische Ethik, Berlin, 1891 ; G. Simrael, Einleitung in die 3Toral- wissenschaft, 2 vols., Berlin, 1892-93 ; B. P. Bowne, The Prin- ciples of Ethics, New York, 1892 ; N. Smyth, Christian Ethics^ New York, 1892 ; C. M. Williams, A Review of the Systems of Ethics founded on Erolntion, New York and London, 1893 ; Th. Elsenhaus, Wesen und, Entstehung des Gewissens, Leipsic, 1894 ; D. G. Ritchie, Natural Rights, New York and London, 1895 ; J. Seth, A Study of Ethical Principles^ Edinburgh and London, 2d ed., 189G, — v. Oettingen, Moral- Statistih, 4th ed., Berlin, 1887 ; Morselli, Suicide {Int. Sc. Series). — Wo R Lecky, A History of European Morals, 2 vols., London, 18G9, 3d ed,, 1877, and L. Schmidt, Die Ethik der cdten Griechcn, Berlin, 1882, are histories of customs. — On the history of ethics see the works of Ziegler, Kostlin, Luthardt (cited in noto G, p. 8) ; Gass, Ziegler, Luthardt (p. 9, note 2) ; Yorliinder, Mackintosh, Jodl (p. 12, note 11), Sidgwick (p. 15, note 9), Janet (p. 14, note 7; CIO BIBLIOGEAPHY p. 15, note 9), and W. Whewell, History oj Moral Science, Ediubiirgli, 1863 ; A. Guyau, La morale anglaise contemporaine, Paris, 1879. Aesthetics : F. Th. Vischer, Aesthetik, 3 vols., Leipsic, 1846-57 ; H. Taine, Philosophie de Vart, Paris, 1865; Engl, trans, by Du- rand, 2d ed., 1873; H. Siebeck, Das Wesen der aesthetischen Anschauung, Berlin, 1875 ; H. Lotze, Grundzilge der Aesthetik, Leipsic, 1884; Engl. tr. by G. T. Ladd, Boston, 1884; Guyau, Les proUemes de Vesthetique contemporaine, Paris, 1884; E. v. Hartmanu, I. Die deutsche Aesthetik seit Kant, Leipsic, 1886; II. Die Philosophie des Schonen, 1887 ; H. Stein, Die Entstehung der neueren Aesthetik, Stuttgart, 1886; H. Cohen, I\a?ifs Hegriin- dung der Aesthetik, Berlin, 1889; Monrad, Aesthetik, Christiania, 1889 ; K. Kostlin, Prolegomena zur Aesthetik, Tubingen, 1889 ; Th. \J\\>\)%, Aesthetische Faktoren der Raumanschauung, 1891 ; also Psychologic der Komik, Philos. Monatshefte, 1888-89; W. Knight, The Philosophy of the Beautifid, 2 vols., London, 1891-93 ; K. Groos, Eiideitung in die Aesthetik, Heidelberg, 1892; L. Arreat, Psychologic du peintre, Paris, 1892; B. Bosanquet, The History oJ Aesthetics, London and New York, 1892 ; W. R. Marshall, Pleas- tire, Pain, and Aesthetics, London and New York, 1894; Hirth, Die Physiologic der Kunst. Philosophy of Religion : Scholten (p. 15), O. Pfleiderer (p. 12, note 11; vol. II., Genetische spekidative ReUgionsphilosophie) ', A. Rcville, Prolegomencs de Vhistoire des religions, Paris, 1880, 4th ed., 1886; English transl. Prolegomena to the History of Re- ligion, 1884, 1885 ; H. Lotze, Religionsphilosophie, Leipsic, 1881 ; Engl.tr. by G. T. Ladd, Boston, 1884; el. Kaftan, Das Wesen der christUchen Religion, Basel, 1881, 2d ed., 1888 ; C. P. Tiele, Outlines of the History of Religion, London, 1884, 2d ed., 1888; B. Piinjer, Grundriss der Religionsphilosophie, Braunschweig, 1886 (see also p. 12, note 11); W. Bender, Das Wesen der Re- ligion, etc., Bonn, 1886; Chantepie de la Saussaye, Lehrhuch der Religionsgeschichte, 2 vols., Freil)urg i. B., 1887-89 ; Engl. tr. by B. Ferguson, London, 1891 ; L. W. Rauwenhoff, Religionsphi^ losophie, German transl. by J. R. ITanne, Braunschweig, 1889; K. Kostlin, Der Ursprung der Religion, 1890; J. G. Schurnian, BIBLIOGRAPHY 611 Belief in God, New York, 1890 ; Agnosticism and Religion^ 1896 ; E. Caird, 2116 Evolution of Religion, 2 vols., London and New l^ork, 1893 ; and Max Miiller's Lectures on the Origin and Growth of Religion. Philosophy of History : C. Hermann, Die Philosophie der Geschichte, Leipsic, 1870 ; Bernheim, Geschichtsforschung und Geschichtsphilosophie, 1880 ; W. Dilthey, Einleitung in die Geistes- wissenschaften, Leipsic, 1883 ; A. Dippe, Das Geschichtsstudium mit seinen Zielen und Fragen, 1891 ; G. Simmel, Die Prohleme der Geschichtsphilosophie, Berlin, 1892; Droysen, Grundriss der Ilis- torik, Engl, tr., The Principles of History, by E. B. Andrews, Boston, 1893 ; Flint (p. 15, note 9). Jurisprudence, Politics, Institutions, etc. : Austin, Lectures on Jurisprudence ; Bluntschli, Die Lehre vom modernen Staat, 3 vols. ; Engl, tr.. Theory of the State ; Buckle (p. 12, note 11) ; Burgess, Politiccd Science ; Coulanges, La cite antique ; Denis, Theories et idees morcdes dans Vantiquite ; Donisthorpe, Individualism, a System of Politics ; Hearn, Aryan Household; Holland, Juris- prudence ; Laveleye, De la propriete et de ses formes primitives ; Lieber, Manned of Political Ethics; Lioy, Delia flosofa del diritto (translated) ; Maine, Early History of Institutions ; Ancient Law and Customs; Miller, Pliilosophy of Law; Mold, Encyclo- pedic der Staatswissenschaffen ; Pollock, Essays in Jurisprudence and Ethics ; History of the Science of Politics ; Puchta, Outlines of Jurisprudence ; ScliJiflle, Ban und Lehen des sozialen Kijrpers ; Sidgwick, Elements of Politics ; Spencer, The Man versus the State ; A Plea for Liberty ; Tarde, Transformations du droit ; Taylor, The Individual and the State ; \Yestermarck, The History of Human Marriage. — Tk. j INDEX [The asterisk indicates the important places in which authors or subjects are treated; ;<. stands for note.] Abbot, E., 8 n. 6. Abbott, T. 436 n. 2, 4, 6. Abbt, 433* n. 2. Abelard, 9, 202, 222* ff., 228, 235. Academic scepticism, 150 ff. Academy, 75. Adamsun, 481 n. 1, 434 n. 2. Adickes, 434 n. 2, 435 n. 3. Aenesidemus, 153* ff, 378 n. 1, 537; his critique of causality, 156 f. Aeschylus, 19. Aesthetics, bibliography of, 610; He- gel's, 524 ff. ; Kant's, 468 ff. Affleck, 591 n. 1. Agrippa of Nettesheim, 266*. Agrippa the Sceptic, 158. Ahreus, 587* n. 4. Alanus ab insulis, 231* 235. Alaux, 15. Albee, 390 n. 2, 391 u. 2. Albert the Great, 236, 240* f., 250 f. Alberti, 63 n. 1, 283 n. 3. xVlciuous, 166. Alcuiu, 201*. Alexander of Aphrodisias, 166* 269. Alexander the Great, 105. Alexander of Hales, 239*. Alexander, S., 609. Alexandre, 263 n. 1, Alexandria, 160 ff. Alfarabi, 216 n. 2. Algazel, 216 n. 2. Alkendi, 216 n. 2. Alley ne, 4 n. 2. Alzog, 9 n. 2. Amalric. 234 f. Ammonius Saccas, 166*. Analytic judgments, 438 ff. 'Ayd/JLvna-is, Plato's 98. Auaxagoras, 5, 48* ff., 60, 95, 118, 412 n. 1. Anaximander, 22* f., 46 n. 2, 412 n. 1. Anaximenes, 23. Ancoua, 291 n. 2. Andrews, 611. Angelus Politianus, 263 f. Animal psychology, bibliography of, 607. Annee philosophique, 584 u. 1. Anniceris, 73*. Anselm, 6, 9, 202, 210* ff., 221, 235, 362, 461 ; his conception of cause, 214 f. ; his ontological argument, 217 ; his proof for the existence of God, 214. Anthropology, bibliography of, 607. Antinomies, Kant's, 456 ff. Antisthenes, 70, 73* f., 98. Apelt, 146 n. 1, 474 n. 1. Apollonius of Perga, 161. Apuleius, 166. Arabians, 233, 236. Arabian schools, 210 n. 2. Arcesilaus, 104, 150 f. Archelaus, 54 f. Archimedes, 160. Arianism. 190. Aristarchus, 160. Aristippus, 70, 71* f., 152, 378 n. 1. Aristophanes, 64. Ari.stotle, 5, 6, 20, 75, 82, 102, 104* ff, 234, 385, 588, 604 ; his astronomy, 120 f. ; and Catholicism, 123 f. ; and the Church, 237 ; his concept of im- mortality, 128 ff., of matter, 112 ff., of motion, space, and time, 118 ff., 614 INDEX of philosophy, 107 f., of soul, 125 ff. ; his critique of niaterialism, 110, of Plato's idealism, 109 f . ; his ethics, 131 ff. ; his gods, 1:^2 L ; Ids uicta physics, 108 ff. ; his meteorology, 1 24 ; his philosophy of nature, 118 ff . ; his politics, 132 f . ; his sensatioualism, 130 f. ; his teleology, 124 ff . ; ins theology, 114 f . ; aud scholasticisui, 222 ff., 235 ff. Aristoxeuus, 133. xVrnistrong, 12 n. 11. Aruauld, 318* 322. Aruobius, 18G. x\rre'at, GIO. Arrianus, 146 n. 1, 147. A ry still us, IGl. Asse'zat, 412 u. 2. Ast, 76 u. 1, 11. 2. Athauasius, 187. Atheuagoras, 187. Atomisiu, 1 11. 1 ; and teleology, U5. Atoinists, Greek, 55 ff. Atticus, 139, 166. Auerbach, 323 n. 1. Augustine, 6, 9, 187, 188* ff., 215, 224, 322, 493 n. 1 ; Ids deterniinisni, 196 ff . ; his doetriue of creation, 190 ff. ; his ethics, 196 ff . ; ids psycliology, 192 ff.; his theology, 189 ff." Augustiniaidsni. 322. Avenipace, 210 n. 2. Avenarius, 586 n. 7. Averroes, 9, 210 n. 2. Avicebron, 210 n. 2. Avicenna, 210 n. 2. Eaabkr, 278 n. 6, 488, 589* Bach, 260, n. 2. Bacon, F., 3, 11, 273, 295* ff , 304, 389, 594. Bacon, K., 3, 9, 258*. Bahnsen. 557* n. 1. Baumker, 9 n. 2, 93 n 1. Bailey, 581* n. 3. Baillet, 305 n. 1 . I'ain, 104 n. 4, 581 n. 2, 581* n. 3, 605, 606, 608. Baiter, 76 n. 2. Haldacldui, 291 n. 2. Baldwin, 535 n. 2, 607. Barach, 219 u. 2, 226 n. 3. lUirbarus, llerniolaus, 263*. Barchou de renhoiiu, 12. Bardili, 473*. Barlaain, 262. Barratt, 608. narthuhnc.ss, 12, 286 u. 2, 399 u. 1, 60i Basil the Great, 187. Batteux, 133 u. 1. HaunKinn, 12 n. 11, 15 u. 9. liauingarteu, 369* u. 1. Baur, 9 n. 2, 148 n. 1, 185 n. 1, 533*. Bautain, 589*. Bax, 436 n. 1, n. 3, 544 n. 5. Bayle, 13 n. 1, 318*. Beattie, 431*. Beaugeudre, 21 1 u. 3. Beck, 7 u. 4. Beck, J. S., 577 n. 1. Beda V^enerabilis 201*. Bekker, 7 n. 5, 76 n. 2, 104 n. 4. liekker, B., 318, 321*. Bcinl)o, 264. Benard, 76 n. 2, 487 u. 1. Bender, 8 n. 6, 610. Beiidixen, 12 n. 11, 609. Beiieke, .542* n. 2. f>enn, s n. 6. Bonlliain, 3!n* ii. 2. Berengar, 211*. Berger, 182 n. 1. Bergk, 8 n. 6, 24 n. 2, 44 n. 1. Berginann, 15 n. 9, 605. Berkeley, 11. 303, 391* ff., 403, 430. Bernard, C. 192 n. 1, 435 n. 3, 436 n 5 585*. Bernays, 7 n. 1, 33 n. 1, 55 n. 2. P)ernliar(l, St., 260*. Bernhard of Chartres, 226*. Beridiard of Clairvaux, 223. Bernhardi, 8 n. 8. Bernheim, 608. Bernheim, 61 1. Bertholdt, G., 405 n 1. Bossarion, 263*, 267. Biedermann, 12 n. 11. Biel. 257. INDEX Clo Biese, 104 d. 4. Bilfinger, 369* n. 1. Bindemann, 188 n. 1. Binet, 608. Blampignon, 320 n. 2. Blass, 59 n. 1. Bliud, M., 562 n. 3. Bluutschli, 12 n. 11, 611. Boccaccio, 262. Boethius, 19S* f. BGhme, J., 10, 199, 278* ff., 488, 589 n. 3. Bohmer, 324 n. 2. Boissouade, 8 u. 2. Bolingbroke, 39* u. 3. Bonaventura, 241*. Bonhofer, 140 n. 1. Bouifas, 344 n. 1 . Bonitz, 78 n. 1, 104 n. 4, 108 n. 3. Bonnet, 291, 370 u. 2, 412 f.* Bordas-Demoulii], 592 n. 2. Borelius, 533* n. 1. Bosanquet, 15 n. 9, 497 n. 6, 533* u. 1, 542 n. 2, 605, 610. Bussuet, 322 n. 1. Bo-stnitn, 588*. Boucliitte, 587* n. 4. Bouillet, 7 u. 2, 157 n. 1. 180 n. 1. Bouillier, 305 n. 1, 320 n. 2. Bonreau-Deslandes, 13 n. 1. Bourne, Fox, 370 n, 1. Bouterwek, 473*. Boutroux, 590* n. 7. Bowen, 12 n. 1 1. Bower, G. S., 406 u. 2. Bowne, 581 n. 3, 609. Bradley, F. H., 533* n. 1, 605, 608. Bradwardine, 359. Bralimanism, 571. Brand is, 8 n 6, 104 n. 4. Breier. 48 n. 2. Brentano, F., 606, 609. Brewer, 258 n. 3. Brieger, 55 n. 3. Brochard, 148 n. 2. Brown, Thoma.s, 431* n. 3. Brucker, 13. Bruder, 323 n. 1. Brunnhofer, 286 n. 2. Bruno, 6, 11, 199, 27.3, 264 u. 1, 286* ff., 313,345,347, 491 n. 2. Brunschvigg, 323 u. 1. Brutus, 147. Bryant, 497 n. 6. Biichner, 562*. Buckle, 12 n. 11, 581* n. 3, Gil. Buddhism, 545, 571. Buddhism and rythagoreauism, 38 n. 1. Bade, 305 u. 1. Buff on, 51. Buhle, 13, 25 n. 1. Bullinger, 108 n. 3. Burchard, 58 n. 1. Burckhardt, 16 n. 1. Burdach, 495. Burgess, 611. Buridan, 256*. Burleigh, Walter, 256*. Burnet, 6 n. 1, 8 u. 6. Burt, 12 n. 11. Busot, 399 n. 1. Butler, 391* n. 2. Byk, 8 u. 6. By water, 33 n. 1. Cakalists, 164, 265 ff. Cabanis, 41.5* f., 590 n. 5. Cacheux, 241 n. 2. Caesalpinus, 272* 284. Caesar, 139. [573n. 2, 611. Caird, E., 434 n. 2, 496 n. 3, 533* n. 1, Caird, J., 323 n. 1, 533* n. 1. Calderwood, 608. Calvin, 276. Camerer, 323 n. 1. Campanella, 11, 56, 291* ff. Cantoni, 434 n. 2. Cantor, 159 n. 1. Capes, 147 n. 4. Capesius, 535 n. 2. Cardanus, 10, 267*. Carneades, 151* f., 430. Carneri, 608. Carpenter, 606. Carriere, 10 n. 1, 274 n. 6, 588* 608- Cartesian school, 318* ff. Carus, C. G., 495. Cams, F. A., 608. 616 INDEX Carus, P., 586* n. 7. Caspari, 542 n. 2. Cassiodorus, 200*. Cassius, 139. Categories, Kant's, 445 ff. Catholicism and Aristotle, 124 f. Cato, 147. Causality, Hegel's doctrine of, 506 ff . ; Hume's doctrine of, 421 ff. ; Kant's doctrine of, 445 ff. ; Sceptics' doctrine of, 156 f. Chaiguet, 8 n. 6, 37 n. 2, 63 u. 1, 76 n. 2, 296 n. 3. Chalybaeus, 12, 588*. Chapman, M. 591 n. 1. Charcot, 608. Charles, 258 n. 3, 411 n. 1. Charron, 274*. Chase, 104 n. 4. Chasles, 159 n. 1. Cheselden, 402 u. 1. Child psychology, bibliography of, 607. Christianity, 69 ; and Greek philosophy, 165; and Stoicism, 147. Christian Platonism, 185* ff. Chrysippus, 141*, 147 n. 3. Chrysostom, 196. Chubb, 391* n. 3. Cicero, 7, 147, 148 n. 1, 225. Clarke, 390*. Clauberg, 318*. Cleanthes, 140. Clement of Alexandria, 7, 9, 187. Clerselier, 316 n. 2, 317 n. 1, 318*. Cobet, 7 n. 6. Cohen, 437 n. 1, 462 n. 2, 468 n. 1, 584, 610. Coignet, 467 n. 1. Coit, 608. Coler, 323 n. 1. Colet, 199 n. 1. Collier, 398 u, 3. Collingwood, 562 n. 6. Collins, A., 391* n. 3. Collins, W., 391 n. 2. Colombo, Eealdo, 284. Columbus, 282, 296. Combefisius, 199 n. 2. Combes, 563* n. 5. Comenius, 278*. Common, 557 n. 1. Common-sense philosophy, 430* ff. Comte, 11, 472 n. 1, 573* ff.; his classi' ficatiou of sciences, 576 ff. ; his con- ception of theology, metapliysics, and science, 574 ff. Conceptualism, 222 ff. Coudillac, 11, 399* ff., 590. Condorcet, 414*. Congreve, 573 n. 2. Conn, 560 u. 1. Copernicus, 11, 160, 264 n. 1, 283* 390, 399 n. 1. Corson, 591 n. 1. Cosmological argument, Kant's critique of, 461. Cosmology, Kant's critique of, 456 ff. Cotton, 273 n. 3. Coulanges, 61 1. Coupland, 557 n. 1. Cournot, 574 n. 2. Cousin, 14. 25 n. I, 76 n. 2, 182 n. 1, 201 n. 3, 222 u. I, 223, 226 n. 3, 305 n. 1, 322 n. 1, 370 n. 1, 434 n. % 533 n. 1, 590* 590 n. 7. Crantor, 104. Crates, 104, 140, 150. Cratylus, 75. Creighton, 586 n. 3. Creuzer, 167 n. 1. Criticism, 1 n. 1, 370 ff., 434* ff. Critique philosophique, 584 u. 1. Crowell, 8 n. 6. Crusades, 262. Cudworth, 370*. Cumberland, 391 n. 2. Curtis, 370 n. 1. Cuvier, 564* n. 2. Cynics, 73* f., 98. Cyrenaics, 71* f. Daiine, 163 n. 1. D'Ailly, 256*. D'Alembert, 414*. Dallas, 562 n. 6. Damascius, 184 n. 1. Damiron, 12 n. 11, 317 n. 2, 399 u. 1 Dante, 262. INDEX 617 Darwin, C, 11, 46, 404 n. 1, 560 n. 1, 563* ff., 607. Darwin, F., 56.3 u. 2. Darwinism, 560* ff. David of Dinant, 234. Davidson, 104 u. 4. Davy, 563* n. 5. Dean, 12 n. 11. De Bonald, 579. Debrit, 590 n. 7. De Garmo, 542 n. 2. ])ege'rando, 13. Deism, 1 n. 1. Deists, 391. Delambre, 159 n. 1. Delame, 7 n. 8. Del Rio, 587* n. 4. De Muistre, 579. Demaze, 277 n. 3. Democritus, 55* ff., 66, 95 f., 134, 297, 406, 412 u. 1, 594 ff. Deudy, 605. Deuitte, 9 n. 2. Denis, 187 n. 2, 611, Descartes, 6, 192 n. 2, 220 n. I, 30.5* ff., 370 f., 378 n. 1, 453, 456, 537, 591, 594; and French materialism, 411 ; and Spinoza, 326 f . ; his physics, 313 f. ; his scepticism, 308 f.; his theory of interaction, 316 f. Desdonits, 434 n. 2. Desjardins, 298 n. 2. Des Maizeaux, 13 n. 1. Desnoiresterres, 399 n. 1. Dessoir, 12 n. 11, 608. Destnttde Tracy, 590* n. 5- Detraold, 264 n. 2. Deussen, 15 n. 9, 557* n. 1. Deutinger, 9 u. 2. Devey, 298 n. 1. Dewey, 344 n. 1, 609. De Witte, 474 u. 1. Dicaearchns, 133. Diderot, 291, 412* ff., 565. Diels, 6 n. 4, 8 n. 6. Dieterici, 210 n. 2. Digby, 296 n. 3. Diilman, 344 n. 1. Dilthey, 274U 6, 611. Diogenes of Apollonia, 53* f. Diogenes of Laerte, 7. Diogenes of Sinope, 74*. Diouysius, 199*. Dippe, 611. Dixon, 240 n. 2. Dods, 188 n. 1. Dogmatism, 1 n. 1. Donaldson, 9 n. 2. Donisthorpe, 611. Doriug, 609. Dorner, 188 n. 1, 605, 608. Douglas, 581 n. 2. Dourif, 147 n. 4. Draper, 12 n. 11, 159 n. 1. Dreydorff, 322 n. 1. Drobisch, 542* n. 2, 605. Droysen, 611. Dro'z, 322 n. 1. Drumraond, 9 n. 2, 163 n. 1. Dualism, 1 n. 1 ; Descartes's, 305 ff. Du Bois-Reymond, 407 n. 1, 563 n. 5, 585*. Du Boulay, 233 n, 1. Duff, 557 n. 1. Diihring, 15, 563 n. 5, 583* n. 1, 605, 608. Dummler, 73 n. 4. Duncan, 344 n. 1. Duncker, 7 n. 9. Duns Scotus, 9, 202, 246* ff. ; his doc trine of freedom, 248. Diipuy, 563* n. 5. Durand, 610. Durand de Laur, 148 n. 1. Dutens, 344 n. 1. Dynamism, 1 n. 1. Eberhard, 473 n. 2. Eckhart, 199, 260*. Eckhoff, 435 n. 2. Eclecticism, Greek, 162 ff. Eisler, 210 n. 2. Eleatic philosophy, 24* ff. Eleatics, 74, 80, 95, 537. Eliot, George, 562 n. 3. Ellis, 104 n. 4, 296 n. 3. Elsenhaus, 609. Elwes, 323 n. 1. 618 INDEX Einanatiou, 190 ff. Empedocles, 44* fl, 60, 95, 412 n. 1. Empiricism, 1 n. 1. Engel, 433* n. 2. Engelhardt, 199 n. 1, 230 n. 2. Epictetus, 14G u. 1, 148 u. 1, 147. Epicurus, 73, 75, 134* ff . ; his ethics, 138 f . ; his iiictnpliysics, 135 f . ; his conception of phihjsopliy, 135; his conception of soul aud immortality, 137 f. ; his tJieoh)},'y, 13G f. Epistemology, hihliograpliy of, G05 f. Eratosthenes, IGl. Krdmann, B., 434 n. 2, 435 n. 3. Erdmanu, J., 14, 344 u. 1, 533*. Erennius, 166*. Erigeua, Scotus, 9, 199, 201, 204* IT., 235. Espinas, 607. Essence and A])pearance, Hegel's doc- trine of, 504 ff. Ethics, bibliograpliy of, 608. Eucken, 12 n. 11, 15 u. 9, 106 n. 2. Euclid, 161. Euclides, 70, 74* f., 75. Eudjemonism, 75. Euhemerus, 72*. Eunapius, 8. Eusebius, 7. Everett, 481 n. 1. Evolution, 560 ff. Evolution of Man, 570 f. Exner, 542 n. 2. Experimental psycliology, bibliography of, 607. Eysseuhardt, 199 n. 3. Fabre, 15, Fabricius, 7 n. 5. Falckenberg, 12 n. 11, 264 n. 1 Faraday, 563* n. 5. Farel, 276. Farrer, 391 n. 1. Fatliers, 185* ff. Faugere, 322 n. 1. Fechner, G., 588* 606. Fechner, H. A., 278 n. 6. Fere', 608, Ferguson, A., 390*. Fergu.soii, B., 610. Ferrari, 295 u. 1, Ferraz, 188 n, 1, Ferri, 268 u. 3, 273 n. 1. Ferrier, 8 n. 6. Feuerbach, L., 318 n, 2, 344 n. 1, 561*. Fichte, J, G., 11, 74, 474, 481* ff., 495, 544, 596 ; his relation to Hegel, 498 f. ; to Schclling, 488 f. Fichte, J. II.,' 481 u. 1, 588* Ficinus, Marsilius, 167 n. 1, 264* f., 269 n. 1. Fiorentino, 268 u. 3, 273 n. 1, 286 n. 2, Fischer, E. L., 605, Fisclier, K., 12, 201 n. 3, 296 n. 3, 474 n.2, 5.3.3* 544 n. 1, 605, Fiske, 581* u. 3. Flint, 15 u. 9, 295 u. 1, 611. Florio, 273 n. 3. Floss, 205 n. 1. Fludd, 278*. FUigel, 542 n. 2. Fontenelle, 399* n. 1. Forel, 608. Forster, 462 n, 2, Fortlage, 12 n. 11, 146 n. 1. Foucher de Careil, 305 n. 1, 344 u, 1, 496 n, 3, 544 n. 1. Fouille'e, 15, 63 n. 1, 76 u. 2, 607. Fowler, 296 n. 3, 370 n. 1, 390 n. 2, 605 608, Fracastor, 284*. Franck. 15, 268 n. 3, 590 n. 3. Eraser, 370 n, 1, 371 n. 1, 392 n, 5. Frauenstadt, 544 n. 1, 557* n. 1, Frederick II., 368 u. 1, Freethinkers, 390*. Freret, 63 n. 1 . Freudentlial, 25 n. 1, 296 n. 3. Fries, A. de, 370 n. 1. Fries, J. F., 474* Frisch, 283 n. 3. Frith, 28r. n. 2. Froscliaminer, 590*. Fnlliert, 222. Fullerton, 323 n. 1. Gaisford, 8 n. 3, n. 5, Gale, 180 n. 7, 181 n. 1, 205 n. 1. INDEX 619 Galileo, I GO, 283* 306, Galliipi, 2D6 n. 1. Gallwitz, G09. Galton, 609. Gamier, 305 u. 1. Garve, 390 ii. f), 433 u. 2, Gass, 9 u. 2, 609. Gassendi, 274* 306, 318. Gaiinilo, 217, 461. Gedike, 7 u. 2. Geel, 59 n. 1. Geij^^er, 10 n. 1, 588 n. 6. Geuiiadius, 263, 267. Geuoude, 320 a. 2. Georgius of Trcbizoud, 263, 267. Gerbert, 211. Gerhardt, C. J., 344 ii. I. Gei-Iiai-dfc, O. 185 n. 1. Gerkrath, 274 ii. 2. Gerlaud, 607. Germain, Sophie, 574 u. 2. Gerson, 261*. Gervaise, 199 ii. 5. Geulincx, 318* 320 f. Gfr.irer, 163 u. 1, 286 n. 2, 323 u. I. Gilltert de la Porree, 227*, 235. Gildemeister, 473 u. 6. Giles, 201 u. 1, 227 ii. 3. Gioberti, 295 n. 1, 590*. Gizycki, G., 390 n. 2, 391 u. 2, 608. Gizycki P., 134 u. 1. Glaser, 108 u. 3. Glogau, 305 n. 1. Gnostics, 164. Goerenz, 7 n. 2. Goethals, 251. Goethe, 76 n. 1 . Gottlini,^ 74 n. 1. G(ddbadier, 166 n. 2. GoldTriedrich, 4r>8 n. 1. Gonzales, 241 n. 2. Goodwin, 166 u. 1. Gordy, 12 n. 8. Gorgias, 32. Grant, 104 n. 4. Gratry, 590*. Greece, 370 n. 1, .533* n. 1, 608. Sreek church, 262 ff . ; Gods, 1 7 ff . philosophy, bibliograjjhy of, 6 ff. am notes; philosophy, periods and origin of, 4 n. 5, 17 ff. ;' religion, 17 ff. Green, 434 n. 2, 533 n. 1. Gregory of Nazianz, 187. Gregory of Nyssa, 187. Griesinger, 607. Grimblot, 487 u. 1. Griniin, 12 u. 11, 305 n. 1, 606. Grisebach, 544 n. 1 . Groos, 610. Grote, 8 n. (i, 17 n. 1, 37 n. 2, 63 n I, 76 u. 2, 104 n. 4, 133 u. I. Grove, 563 u. 5. Gruber, 573 n. 2. Gr>in, 561 u. 1. Guhrauer, 344 n. 1. Guruey, 60S. Guyau, 133 n. 1, 608, 610. G winner, 544 u. 1. Haas, 148 n. 2. Haeckel, 560 n. 1, 562* 564 u. 3, 567. Ilaegheu, 320 u. 1. Ilagen, 274 u. 6. Ilaidane, 497 u. 8, .544 u. 3. Ilalier, 506 n. 1. IL'unann, J. G., 473*. Haniann, O., 560 n. 1. Ilaniiltoii, W., 430 n. 3, 431* n. 3, 4. Hamnier-Pnrgstall, 210 n. 2. Ilanne, 610. Harms, 1 2 n. 1 1 . 15 n. 9, 473 n. 5, 606, 608. llarnack, 9 n. 2, 167 u. 1, 185, n. 1. Harpf, 59 n. 1. Harris, 434 u. 2, 496 n. 3, 497 n. 2, 533* n. 1. Hart, 55 n. 3. Flartenstein, 15 n. 9, 344 n. 1, 434 n. 2, 535 n. 2, 542* n. 2. Hartley, 406* f . Hartmann, 11, 91 n. 2. 496 n. 1, 54'2 n.2, 557* ff., .560 n. 1, 608, 610. Harvey, 272, 284*. Hasse, 211 n. 4. Hastie, 12 n. 11, 4.'56 n. 6, 497 n 6 Hatch, 104 n 4, 390 n. 2. Haureau, 9 n. 2. Hausr.ath. 222 n. 1, 562 n. 3. Havet, 322 n. 1 620 INDEX Hayduck, 6 n. 4. Have, 586 n. 4. Hayin, 487 n. i, 496 n. 3, 544 n. 1. Hazlitt, 273 u. 3. Hearn, 611. Heath, 296 n. 3. Hebeustreit, 181 n. L Hedouism, Greek, 71* ff., 134 ff. Heeren, 8 n. 3. Hegel, 11, 14, 52, 56, 79, 183 u. 1, 202 n. 1, 203 n. 3, 249 u. 1, 264 n. 1, 285 n. 1, 291, 496* ff., 537 f ., 594 ff . ; liis ethics, 514 ff . ; aud Fichte, Kant, and Schellhig, 498 ff.; his logic, 500 ff.; his philosophy of art, 521 ff . ; his philosophy of mind, 513 ff . ; his phi- losophy of nature, 510 ff.; his philoso- phy of philosophy, 531 f.; his philo- sophy of religion, 528 ff. ; his politics, 533 ff . Hegelian school, 533 ff. Hegesias, 72* f . Heinicheu, 7 n. 10. Heinze, 142 u. 1, 145 n. 1, 163 n. 1, 305 n. 1. Heitz, 107 n. 1. Heliocentric theory, 283, 287. Helmlioltz, 563* n. 5, 585*1, 597 n. 1. Helmont, 278, 345 n. 1. Helvctius, 414*. Henderson, 434 n. 2. Heraclitus, 6 u. 1, 33* ff., 60, 75, 80, 123,-335,491 u. 4, 589 n. 4. Herbart, 11, 148 n. 1, 535* ff., 594 ff. Herbartians, 370* n. 2. Herder, 370 n. 2, 473* 475. Hermann, C, 611. Hermann, K. F., 59 n. 1, 76 n. 2, 78 n. 1. Hertling, 370 n. 1. Hesiod, 18 f. Heussler, 296 n. 3. Hibben, 605. Hicetas, 160. Higginson, 148 n. 1. Hildebert of Lavardin, 211* 225. Hillebrand, 544 n. 2. Hipparchus, 161. Hippasus, 37 n. 1, 46. Hij)polytus, 7. Hiru, 563* n. 5. Hirth, 610. Hirzel, 140 n. 1, 148 n. 1, 148 n. 2. History, bibliography of philosophy of. 611. Hobbes, 11, 300* ff., 318, 359, 370 n. 2, 378, 378 n. 1, 414. Hoffdiug, 12 n. 11, 606, 609. Hoffmann, F., 589 n. 3. Holbach, 11, 414* Holland, 611. Home, 391* u. 2. Homer, 18 f., 117 n. 4. Horace, 71 n. 2, 139. Horn, 78 u. 1. Horwicz, 606. Hoschel, 8 n. 4. Hough, 12 n. 8, Huber, 9 n. 2, 205 n. I. Hiibner, 7 u. 6. Huet, 318*. Hugo of St. Victor, 199, 227 *ff. Unit, 76 n. 2. Humboldt, A., 281 u. 2. Hume, 6, 11, 156, 317, 4l7*ff., 435,445, 537. Husson, 487 n. 1. Hutcheson, 390*. Huxley, 560 n. 1, 563 n. 3. Hylozoism, 597. Hypnotism, bibliography of, 608. IiJN-ToPHAiL, 216 n. 2. Idea, Plato's, 81 ff. Idealism, 1 n. 1 ; Augustine's, 125 f.; Berkeley's, 393 ff. ; Greek, 75 ff. ; Kant and, 473 ; realism aud, iu Middle Ages, 220 n. 1. Ideas, Kant's doctrine of, 451 ff. Immanency, 1 n. 1, 233 f. Immortality, Plato's idea of, 97 f. Induction, Bacon's, 298 ff . Intellectual intuition, 493. Intellectualism, 249 n. 1. Intelligible character, 465. louians, 21 ff. Isidore of Alexandria, 184 n. 1. Isidore of Sevilla, 200*. Israel, A., 278 u. 2. INDEX C21 Jacksox, 146 n. 1. Jacques, 108 n. 3. Jacobi, 9 u. 2, 473* 587. Jamblichus, 181*f. James, 606. Jammy, 240 n. 2. Janet, Paul, 14. 15 n. 9, 344 n. 1, 406 n. 3, 562 n. 4, 500 n. S, 591* u. 1, 608, 609. Janet, Pierre, 60S. Jansen, 322. Jebb, 258 u. 2. Jerome, 196. Jevons, 5S1 n. 2, 605. Jewish-Greek philosophy, 163 ff. Jhering, 608. Jodl, 12 u. 2, 609. Joel, K., 65 n. 1. 78 n. 2. Joel, M.. 210 n. 2. John of Danias, 200*. John of ]\[er«uria, 257*. John of Sah's1»ury, 227*. John Philoponus, 199*. Joly, 320 u. 2. Jones, 542 n. 2. Jouffroy, 590*. Jonrilain, A., 235 n. 1. 318 u. 8. Jourdain, C, 241 n. 2, 318 u. 7. Jowott, 104 n. 4. Jowett's Plato, 76 u. 2. Jnnilt, 260 n. 2. Jurisprudence, biblioe^r.aphy of, 611. Justin the ^Martyr, 186. Justin i.an. 184. Kaftax, 55 n. 2, 610. Kappes, 104 n. 4. Kant, 6, 17, 45 n. 1,51, 71, 101, 249 n. 1, 317, 369 n. 1, 378 n. 1, 397 n. 1, 431, 4.34* ff., 495. 537 ff., 542 n. 2, 587, 597 ; his aesthetics, 468 ff. ; his anti- nomies. 456 ff. ; his critique of cosmo- ]o2;ical argument, 461, of cosmology, 456 ff., of" judgment. 468 ff., of pliy- sico-theological argument, 461 f., of practical reason, 462 ff., of psychol- ogy, 453 ff., of pure reason, 437 ff.. of sensibility, 440 ff., of understand- ing, 444 ff. ; his doctrine of ideas, 444, 451 ff., of space and time, 440 ff. of will and freedom, 463 ff. ; his ethics, 461 ff. ; and German idealism, 473 ff. ; and Hegel, 499 f. ; his prim- acy of practical reason, 466 f. ; his schematism, 477 ff. ; and his succes- sors, 450 f. ; his teleology, 468 ff. Karsten, 24 u. 2, 44 u. 1. Kaulich, 9 n. 2. Kedney, 496 n. 3. Kehrbach, 434 n. 2, 535 u. 2. Kemp, 544 n. 3. Kenyon, 104 n. 4. Kepler, 160, 283* Kern, 25 n. 1. Keynes, 605. King, Lord, 370 n. 1. Kircldioff, A., 167 n 1, 607. KirchmaJiu, 15 n. 9, 323 u. 1, 434 n. 2. 583* n. 1. Kirchner, C. H., 167 u. 1, 182 u. 1. Kirchner, F., 15. Kleilter, 259 n. 2. Klett, 65 n. 1. Knight, 15 n. 9. 610. Knutzen, 433* n. 2. Kolier, 557 n. 1. Kocli, 305 u. 1. Kochly, 63 n. 1. Kouig, 12 n. 11, 606. Kustlin, 8 n. 6, 496 n. 3, 609, 610. Kopp, 184 n. I, 199 n. 3. Krafft-Ebing. 607, 608. Krause, 587 *f. Krauth, 392 n. 3. Krische. 21 u. 1 , 148 n. 1. Kroeger, 481 n. 1 . Krng, 473*. Kuhlenbeck. 287 n. 2, u. 3. Kiilpe, 607. Kurella, 12 n. 11, 606. Kussmaul. 607. Kv.acsala, 278 n. 5. La AS, 583* n. 1. Labriola, 63 n. 1 . Lachelier, 590* n. 7. Lacliniann, 7 n. 1, 55 n. 2, Lactantius, 9, 186, 196. 622 INDEX Ladd, 4, 542 u. 2, 606, 610, Laforet, 8 u. 6. Lagai-de, 286 n. 2. Lagrange, 11, 399 n. 1. Ljunarck, 563* 565. Lambert, 433* u. 2. Lameunais, 589*. La Mettrie, 411* f., 317. Lamothe-Levayer, 274*. Lancelot, 322. Land, 320 n. 1, 323 n. 1. Lanfrane, 211*. Lange, C, 606. Lange, F. A., 11, 14, 410 u. 7, 584* f., 605. Langley, 344 n. 1. Laplace, 11, 51, 399 u. I. Laromiguiere, 590 n. 5. Lasalle, 33 n. 1, 296 n. 3. Lasson, 260 u. 2, 287 n. 1, 298 u. 2. Lasswitz, 12 u. 11, 437 n. 1. Laugel, 37 n. 2. Laurentius Valla, 263*. Lauret, 581 n. 2. Laurie, 8 n. 6, 9 n. 2, 608. Laveleye, 611. Lavoisier, 407 n. 2. Law, 278 n. 6. Lazarus, 542* u. 2, 606. Lechler, 12 n. 11, 391 n. 3 Lecky, 9 n. 2, 12 n. 1, 609. Le Clerc, 7 n. 2, 273 n. 3. Lefe'ron, 239 n. 2. Leferriere, 140 n. 1. Lefevre, 15. Lehmann, 607. Lehiierdt, 10 n. 1. Lehrs, 8 n. 6, 17 n. 1. Leil)niz, 6, 11, 113 n. 3, 130 n. 3, 291, 293 n. 2, 343* ff., 370 n. 2, 372 u. 2, 382, 386, 390, 404, 435, 456, 538, 591, 594 ff. ; and Cartesianisni, 353 ff. ; and the Cartesians, 346 ff. ; liis determin- ism, 359 f., 364 ff. ; his doctrine of force, 346 ff . ; his doctrine of immor- tality, 358 f. ; his doctrine of pre estab- lished harmony, 349 ff. ; his notion of reciprocal action, 353 ff. ; his rational- ism, 363 f.; and Fichto, 366 ff . ; and Spinoza, 359 ff. ; his theodicy, 360 ff. , his theory of knowledge, 366 f. ; his theory of monads, 348 ff. ; his theory of nucouscious perceptions, 345 f. ; Wolffian philosophy and, 433* u. 2. Lemaire, 7 u. 1. Leo X., 264. Leontinus Pilatus, 262. Leroux, 533 u. 1, 592 u. 2. Lessing, 369 u. 1, 433* u. 2, 475. Leucippus, 55*. LeVy-Bruhl, 473 n. 5. Lewes, 15, 104 u. 4, 581* n. 3, Lewis, 607. L'Herbette, 574 n. 2. Liard, 55 u. 3, 606. Lieber, 611. Liebig, 298 u. 2. Liebmanu, 434 n. 1, 584 n. 2. Liebner, 227 u. 5. Lie'geois, 608. Liepmann, 55 n. 3. Lightfoot, 148 u. 1. Linde, van der, 323 n. L Lindner, 542 n. 2. Linnaeus, 564. Lioy, 611. Lipps, 600 D. 1, 606, 610. Lipsius, 185 n. 1, 274*. Littre, 573 n. 2, 574*. Lobeck, 19 u. 3. Locke, 6, 11, 130 n. 3, 253, 317, 366. 370* ff., 391 f. ; his faculties of un- derstanding, 380; his idea of the cer- titude of knowledge, 387 ff. ; his de- nial of innate ideas, 372 ff. ; and Leibniz, 366 ff. ; his simple and mixed modes, 382 ff. ; his nominalism, 385 ff. ; Ids free will, 381 f . ; liis phih^sopliy of language, 384 f. ; his primary and secondary (jualities, 378 ff. ; his doc- trine of substance, 383 f. ; his simple and complex ideas, 376 ff. ; his theory of space, 385 ff. Logic, l)ibliograpIiy of, 605 f. Lonimat/.sch, 7 n. 8. Long, 14S 11. 1. Longinus, 166*. Lotze, 542* n. 2, 58S*, 605, 606, 610. INDEX 623 Lowe, 217 n. 2, 481 n. T. Lowenthal, 573. Lowndes, 305 n. 1. Lowndes, M., 606. Lowrey, 370 u. 2. Lubbock, 607. Lucas, 323 n. 1. Lucretius, 7, 55* 134 n. 1, 139. Ludovici, 369* n. 1. Lullus, Kaymundus, 9, 259* 287. Luptou, 199 n. 1, Luthardt, 8 u. 6, 9 n. 2, 609. Luther, 276. Lutoslavvski, 286 n. 2. Lyell, 564* u. 1. Lyng, 533* n. 1. Lyon, 301 n. 1, 398 n. 3. Macchiavelli, 264* n. 2. Mackenzie, 609. Mackie, 344 n. 1. Mackintosh, 12 n. 11, 391 n. 2, 609 Macoll, 148 n. 2. Magellan, 282. Magic, 265 ff. Magiiin, 205 n. 2. Mahaffy, 8 u. 6, 12 n. 8, 305 n. 1. 43; n. 3, 436 n. 1. Mainion, 473*. Maimoiiides, 210 n. 2. Maine, 611. Maine de Biran, 589 n. 2, 590* 601. Mainliinder, 557* n. 1. Malel)ranche, 11, 195, .*^18* 320* f. 333, 370 n. 2, 391 f., 398 n. 3. Mallet, 22 n. 1, 74 n. 2. Maniiani, 295 n. 1. Mandeville. 414*. Mansel, 1^5 n. 1. Man-ianus Capella, 199*. Manns Anrelius, 146 n. 1, 147, 148 n. 1, Mariano, 286 n. 2, 295 n. 1. Mariiins, 182 n 1, 184 n. 1. Marion, 370 n. 1. Marshall, II. R., 610. Marshall, J., 8 n. 6. Marsilins Ficiiins, ser Ficiuus. Marsilius of Inghen, 256*. Marteu.sen, 609. Martha, 151 n. 1. Martineau, IL, 573 n. 2. Marti ueau, J., 323 n. 1, 609. Martins, 563 n. 1. Massol, 467 n. 1. Masson, 55 u. 2, 562 u. 4. Materialism, 1 note 1 ; eighteenth cen- tury, 404 ff. ; German, 560 ff. ; Greekj 55 ff., 75 ; of Hobbes, 301 f. ; and sensationalism, 402 n. 2. Matter, 185 n. 1, 166 n. 3. Matter, Plato's conception of, 92 ff, Maudsley, 606. Maupertuis, 399* n. 1. Maximus the Confessor, 199* Maxwell, J., 391 n.2. Mayer, 563* u. 5. Mayor, 8 n. 6. Mayr, 399 n. 1. McCosh, 430 u. 3, 431 n. 3. Mechanism, 1 n. 1. Mediaeval philosopliy, 5, 185* ff. ; l)ihli- ography of, 9 ff . and notes. Megarians, 74* f. Meiklejolm, 435 n.3. Meiiieke, 8 n. 3. Melancthon, 278. Melissus, 30* f. Mendelssohn, 369 n. 1, 433* n. 2. Menzies, 12 n. 11. Merz, 344 n. 1 . Meslier, 411. Meyer, 324 n. 1. Meynert, 607. Midland, 221 n. 1. Michelet, 12, 108 n. 3, 5.33*. Middleman, 10 n. 1. Migno, 9 n. 1, 188 n. 1. Migiift, 487 n. 1. Mill, J. S., 11, 431 n. 4, 573 u. 2, 574, 5S1* ff., 605, 608. Miller, 611. Miller, E., 7 n. 9. Millet, 305 n. 1. Mind, 586 n. 7. Miiito, 605. Mirabaud, 414. Modoratns, 165. 624 INDEX Modern philosophy, 286 ff. ; bibliogra- phy of, 11 ff. and notes. Moller, 185 n. 1. Mohl, 611. Moleschott, .562*. Molesworth, 301 n. 1. Moll, 608. Mollet, 391. Monad, 348 ff. Moncliamp, 317 n. 2. Monism, 1 n. 1, 560 ff., 596 ff. ; Plato's, 101. Monist, 586 n. 7. Monrad, 12 n. 11, 533* n. 1, 610. Montaigne, 273* f., 296 n. 3, 308, 322 n. 1.' Montesquieu, 11. Montucla, 159 n. 1. Morgan, L., 560 n. 1, 607. Morgan, T., 391* n. 3. Morin, 467 n. 1. Morley, 104 n. 4, 399 n. 1.412 n. 2. Morris, 15 n. 9, 437 u. 1, 496 n. 3. Morselli, 609. Moser, 167 n. 1. Monlinie, 563 n. 3. Miiller, H., 76 n. 2, 318 u. 6. Muller, K. 0., 8 n. 6. Miiller, M., 435 n. 3, 611. Miinsterberg, 606, 609. Mnirhead, 15 n. 9. Mnllach, 6 n. 1, 8 n. 6. Mnnck, 78 n. 1, 210 n. 2, 265 n. 1. Mnnro, 7 n. 1, 55 n. 2. Mysticism, 259 ff., 493 n. 1 ; medireval, 227 ff. ; Plato's, 91. Nahlowsky, 542* n. 2. Napier, 284*. Natorp, 55 n. 3, 59 n. 1, 148 n. 2, 283 n. 3, 305 n. 1. Natural selection, 565 ff. Naturalism, 1 n, 1. Nature, Plato's doctrine of, 91 ff. Naville, 180 n. 1, 589*, 590 n. 7. Neander, 9 n. 2, 185 n. 1, 188 n. 1. Nemours, 414 n. 4. Neo-Criticism, 573 ff. Neo-Kantians, 583 ff. Neo-Platonism, 167* ff., 210 n. 2,265 ff,, 493, 596. Newman, 104 n. 4. Newton, 11, 306, 390* 399 n. 1. Nichol, 296 n. 3. Nicholai, 369 n. 1, 433* n. 2. Nicholas of Autricuria, 257*. Nicholas of Clemanges, 261*. Nicholas of Cusa, 10, 264* 287. Nicole, 318* 322. Nicomachus, 165. Nietzsche, 557* n. 1, 609. Noire, 560 n. 1. Nolen, 434 n. 2. Nolte, 241 n. 2. Nominalism, 240, 252 ff. ; and the Ciiurch, 255; and Realism, 219 ff. Nominalists and Realists, 203. Notion, Hegel's doctrine of, 508 ff. Nourrisson, 14, 344 n. 1. Novaro, 320 n. 2. Numenius, 165. Objective and Subjective in Middle Ages, 220 n.l. Occam, 252,389. Oersted, 495, Oettingen, 609. Ogereau, 140 n. 1. Oken, 495. Olle-Laprune, 320 n. 2. Oman, 587 n. 2. Ontological Argument, Anselmus's, 217; Descartes's, 310 f . ; Kant's cri- tique of, 461. Ontology, 1 n. 1. Oordt, Van, 76 n. 2 Opel, 278 n. 2. Orelli, 76n. 2. Origcn, 7, 9, 187* 191. Orpheus, 1, 9. Oswald, 431*. Oxenford, 296 n. 3. Paley, 391* n. 2. Panietius, 147. Panentlieism, 588. Panlogism, 249 n. 1. Pantheism, 1 n. 1, 233 f., 597. INDEX 625 Panthelism, 249 n. 1. Panzerbieter, 53 n. 3. Paracelsus, 267*. Parmeuides, 5, 26* ff ., 74 f., 335, 538, 596. Parthey, 181 n. 1. Pascal, 306, 322* 463. Pater, 76 n. 2. Patrick, 33n. 1. Patristic, 185ff. Patrizzi, 273*. Paul, Kegan,322 n. 1. Paulsen, 4, 12 n. 11, 15 n. 9, 17 n. 2,434 n.2, 588* n. 8, 609. Paulus, 323 n. 1. Pearson, 140 n. 2. Peip, 278 n. 6. Pelagianism, 248 f. Pelagians, 197. Pellissier, 263 n. 1. Perez, 607. Peripateticism, 210 n. 2, 235 ff., 597. Peripatetics, 105, 267 ff. Perry, 12 n. 11. Peschel, 10 n. 1, 281 n. 2, 607. Peter the Lombard, 9, 232* f., 239. Peter the Venerable, 223. Peters, 104 n. 4. Petrarch, 262. Peyrou, 44 n. 1. Pfleiderer, E., 33 n. 1, 320 n. 1, 344 n. 1, 437 n. 1. Pfleiderer, 0., 9 n. 2, 12 n. 11, 610, Phredo, 75. Phelps, 12 n. 11. Phenomenon, Kant's definition of, 449 f. Pherecydes, 19, 38. Philo, 163* f. Philolaus, 37. Philosophical Journals, 15 n. 9. Photius, 8, 200*. Physico-theological argument, Kant's critique of, 461 f. Pico, 265* 272. Pierron, 104 n. 4. Pillon, 320 n. 2, 584* n. 1. Pindar, 19. Platner, 433* n. 2. Plato, 5 f., 46 n. 2, 56, 65, 70, 75 * ff., 105, 109, 112,134, 150. 185 ff., 385, 430 n. 2, 451 n. 3,491 n..5, 493n. 1,538, 594 ff. ; his ethics, 98 ff.; and geometry, 80 f. ; his myths, 79 ; his philosophy of nature, 91 ff.; his doctrine of pre- existence, 98 ; his rationalism, 89 ff. ; his psychology, 97 f. ; his realism, 82 ff., 101 ff. ; his teleology, 95 ff. ; his theology, 88 f. ; his theory of state, 99 ff. Platonic Academy in Florence, 263 f. Platonism, Christian, 185 ff.; and medi- aeval Peripateticism, 235 ff. ; and Scho- lasticism, 219 ff. Pletho, 263*, 267. Pliny, 139. Plothius, 7, 46 u. 2, 56, 91, 167* ff., 347, 493 n. 1, 496 u. 2 ; his ethics, 176 ff. ; his theology, 168 ff . ; his theory of emanation, 171 ff. ; his theory of intel- lect, soul, and body, 171 ff. Pluralism, 596 ff. Plutarch, 7, 166*. Polemo, 104, 140. Politics, bibliography of, 611. Pollock, 323 n. 1, 611. Pompey, 147. Pomponatius, 10, 268* ff. Porjihyry, 7, 37 n. 2, 167, 179* f., 200. Porta, 271*. Porter, 462 n. 2, 609. Port-Royalists, 318 n. 8, 322 n. 1. Posidonius, 147. Positivism, 1 n. 1, 573* ff . ; critique of, 592 ff. Prantl, 14, 15 n. 9, 106 n. 2, 146 n. 1, 166 n.2, 199 u. 5, .5.3.3* 606. Pre-existenco, Plato's doctrine of^ 98. Preger, 227 n. 5. Preller, 6 n. 1, 8 u. 6, 17 n. I. Pressense, 9 n. 2. Pre'vost, 305 n. 3. Pre'vost-Paradol, 273 u. 3. Preyer, 607. Priestley, 407* ff. Primary qualities. 404, 430 ; and second- ary qualities, 378 f., 392. Probabilism, (ircek, 159. Proclus, 8, 182* f., 184 n. 1. Protagoras. 5, 59* ff., 66, 71, 152- 626 INDEX Protois, 232 n. 2. Proudhon, 467 n. 1, 533 n. 1. Psychiatry, bibliography of, 607 f. Psycliology, bibliograpliy of, 606 ff. ; Kaut's critique of, 453 ff. Ptolemy, 160f. Puchta, 611. Piinjer, 12 u. II, 462 n. 2, 573 n. 2, 610. Pyrrho, 149* 308, 378 ii. 1. Pyrrlionism, 148 ff. Pytliagoras, 20, 38* ff., 56, 69 ; and Buddha, 38 n. 1 . Pytliagoreans, 37* ff., 75,80, 95 f., 120 n. 2, 160. QuADRiviUM, 200 n. 2. Kamus, 10, 277 *f. Ranke, 607. Raspe, 344 u. 1. nationalism, 1 u. 1. Rauwenhoff, 610. Ravaisson, 108 n. 3, 140 n. I, 146 n. 1, 590* n. 7, 601. Rawley, W., 296 n. 3. Raymond of Sabunde, 259 *. Raymundus Lullus, 9, 259 *, 287. Realism, 1 n. 1, 240; Plato's, 82 ff . ; Platonic, 101 ff. ; and idealism in Middle Ages, 220 n. 1 ; and nominal- ism, 219* ff. ; and nominalists, 203. Reciprocal action, Hegel's doctrine of, 507 f. Redepenning, 7 n. 8, 15 n. 1. Ree, 608. Reformation, 274 ff. Regius, Sylvaiu, 318. Reichel, 8 n. 6. Reicke, 7 n. 4, 434 n. 2. Reid, 11, 430* f., 587, 591; and cau- sality, 432 n. 2. Reimarus, 369 n. 1, 433* n. 2. Reinacli, 78 n. 2. Rein hold, 474,* 475. Reinwald, 233. Religion, bibliography of philosophy of, 610 f.; origin of, 17 u. 2. Remusat, 12 n. 11, 211 n, 4, 222 n. 1, 296 n. 3. Renaissance, 261 ff. ; bibliography of, 10 n. 1. Renan, 148 n. 1, 210 n. 2, 586. Renouvier, 14, 584* n. 1. Rethore, 399 n. 2. l^etrogressiou in evolution, 567. Reuchlin, 265* 318 u. 8. Renter, 9 n. 2. Re'villc, 15 n. 1, 163 n. 1, 610. Revue positive, 574 n. 1 ; philosophique, 586 u. 7. Riaux, 296 n. 3. Uibbeck, 148 n. 1. Rlbot, .535 n. 2, 542 n. 2, 544 n. 1, 581 n. 3, 584, 586* n. 7, 608. Ricliard of St. Victor, 230 * f. Richardson, 8 n. 6. Pvichter, 163 u. 1, 167 u. 1. Riehl, 434 n. 2. Ritchie, 609. Ritschl, 9 u. 2. Ritter, 6 n. 1, 8 n. 6, 9 n. 2, 12, 14, 21 n. 1, 37 n. 2; and Preller, 8 n. 6. Kivista di filosofia, 586 n. 7. Rixner, 267 n. 1. Robert of Lincoln, 236. Robert of Melun, 231 *f. Robert Pulley n, 232*. Hobertso'^, 104 n. 4, 301 n. 1. Roberty, 12 n. 11. Robine't, 412*, 565. Hr.th, 4, 8 n. 6, 473 n. 6. Rohde, 8 u. 6. Rolph, 608. Homan Stoicism, 147. Romanes, 560 n. 1, 607. Rondel, 134 n. 1. Roscellinus, 220 * ff ., 389. Rose, 104 n. 4. Rosenkranz, 412 n. 2, 434 n. 2, 487 n. 1, 496 n. 3, .533 *. Rosmiui-Serbate, 104 n. 4, 295 n I, 590*. Roussellot, 9 n. 2. Royce, 12 n. 11, 497 n. 1. Royer-Collard, 590*. Riimelin. 609. INDEX 627 Runze, 609. Kussel, 371 n. 2. Ruysbroek, 230 n. 2. Sainte-Beuve, 318 n. 8. Saiut-Germain, 305 u. 1. Saint-Hilaire, B , 104 n. 4, 108 n. 3. Saiut-Hilaire, G., 565. St. John, 370 n. 1. St. Martha, 200 ii. 1. St. Martin, 278 n. 6. St. Paul, 147, 177 n. 2, 178 u. 2, 194. St. Bene Taillandier, 205 u. 1. Saint-Simou, 574 n. 2. Saintes, 323 n. 1, 434 n. 2, Saintsbury, 273 u. 3. Saisset, 153 n. 2, 317 u. 2, 323 n. 1, 434 n. 2. Salzini^er, 259 u. 1. Sanchez, 274 *. Saunders, 544 u. 5, Sau.ssaye, Chantepie de la, 610. Scaliger, 271 *. Scepticism, I u. 1, 253 ; Greek, 148* ff. Sceptics, 537. Schaarschmidt, 37 n. 2, 76 u. 2, 78 n. 1, 227 n. 3, 305 u. 1, 323 u. 1, 324 n. 2. Schaffle, 611. Schaff, 185 u. 1. Schaller, 12 u. 11. Schanz, 59 n. 1, 76 n. 2. Scharpff, 264 u. 1. Schaubach, 48 u. 2. Schelling, 1 1 , 9 1 , 1 70 u. 1 , 1 95, 264 n. 1 , 482 n. 1, 487* ff., 601 ; and Ficlite, 488 ff. ; and Hegel, 498 f. ; his nega- tive ])hilosophy, 488 ff.; his positive philo.sopliy, 494 f. Scherer, 496 n. 3, 586* Schiebler, 278 n. 6. Schiller, 474 *. Sclileicher, 560 n. 1. Schleiden, 474 n. 1. Schleiermacher, 22 n. 1, 23 n. 1, 33 n. 1, 53 n. 3, 76 n. 2, 78 u. 1,322 n. 1, 587 * Schliiter, 205 n. 1. Schmekel, 140 n. 1, 148 n. 1. Schmid, B., 560 n. 1. Schmidt, C, 234 n. 1, 261 n 4. Schmirlt, F. X.. 277 n. 2. Schmidt, L., 8 n. 6, 609. Schmidt, O., 560 n. 1. Schmolders, 210 n. 2. Schneider, Ch., 76 n. 2. Schneider, G. H., 607. Schneider, J. G., 6 n. 2, 133 n. 1. Schneidewiu, 7 n. 9. Schoenlauk, 406 n. 2. Scholasticism, 201 * ff., 297. Scholten, 15, 610. Schoolmen, 201 ff. Schools, 201. Schopenhauer, 11,46, 113 n. 3, 192 n. v, 249, n. 1, 322 n. 1, 445, 491 n. 3, .544* ff., 594 ff., 601 ; his pessimism, 552 ff . ; his relation to other systems, 545 ff. ; his school, 556 ff. Schorn, 48 n. 2, 53 n. 3. Schreiber, 253 n. 2. Scliubert, F. W., 434 n. 2. Schubert, G. II., 495. Schuler, 277 n. 1. Schuller, 324 n. 1. Schultess, 8 n. 6, Schulthess, 277 n. 1. Scliultze, 263 n. 1. Schulze, 473*, 544. Schuppe, 605, 608. Schiirer, 163 n. 1. Schurman, 434 n. 2, 462 n. 2, 560 n. 1, 609,610. Schwarz, 606. Schwegler, 8 n. 6, 14, 108 n. 3. Schweigbiiuser, 148 n. 1. Science, Greek, 159 ff. ; modern, 281 ff. Scotch philoso})liy, 430* ff. Scotus Duns, see Duns. Scotus Erigcna, sre Frigcna. Sccretan, 496 u. I, 556 u. 1, 589* 592 n. 2,601. Sedail, 296 n. 3. Seleucus, 160. Seneca, 7, 146 n. I, 147, 148 n. 1, 225. Sensationalism, and materialism, 40J n. 2 ; and scepticism, 352 ff. Sepp, 148 n. 2. Sergi, 606. Servet, 284. 628 INDEX Seth, A., 12 u.U, 496 n. 3. Seth, J., 609. Sextus Empiricus, 7, 153, 158* f., 308. Seydel, 544 n. 1. Shaftesbury, 390*. Shedd, 211 u. 4. Sibree, 497 n. 5. Sidgwick, A., 605. Sidgwick, H., 15 n. 9, 59 n. 1, 608, 609, 611. Siebeck, 15 n. 9, 59 u. 1, 63 n. 1, 78 u. 1, 608, 610. Sieber, 267 n. 1. Sighart, 240 n. 2. Sigwart, Chr., 15 n. 9, 267 n. 2, 298 li. 2, 324 u. 2, 605, 609. Siminel, 609, 611. Simon, J., 108 u. 3, 166 n. 3, 182 u. 1, 305 11. 1, 318 11. 7, 320 n. 2. Simon, T. C, 392 u. 5. Simon of To urn ay, 234. Simplicius, 184. Smith, A., 391*. Smith, M., 536 u. 2. Smith, W., 481 u. 1. Smyth, 609. Sneath, 15 u. 9, 430 n. 3. Socher, 78 n. 1. Socrates, 6, 63* ff., 71, 75, 80,. 82, 150, 537. Socratic schools, 71*ff. Solon, 19. Sommer, H., 344 u. 1. Sommer, R., 369 n. 1. Sophists, 59* ff., 80. Sopho(;les, 19. Space, Kant's doctrine of, 440 ff. Spedding, 296 n. 3. Spencer, 7 n. 8. Spencer, H. 11, 560 n. 1, 581* ff., 606, 607, 608, 611. Spengel, 563 n. 2. Speusippus, 103* f. Spinoza, 6, 52,91, 192 n. 1, 220 n. 1,323* ff., 347 f., 359, 382, 391 f., 394 n. 1, 455, 462,465, 492 n. 1,495,499, .538 f., 542 n. 2. ; his definitions, 325 f . ; and Descartes, 326 f. ; his determinism, 335 f. ; and Leibniz, 359 ff . ; and ma- terialism, 333 ; his method, 324 f. ; his pantheism, 326 f£. ; his theology, 326 ff. ; his theory of attributes, 329 ff. ; his theory of modeK, 334 ff. ; his theory of passions, 338 ff. ; his theory of substance, 326 ff. Spiritualism, 1 n. 1, 587 ff., 590 ff.; Berkeley's, 393 ff. ; Greek, 75 ff. Stadler, 468 u. 1. Stallbaum, 76 n. 2. Stanley, 13. Starr, 608. Steffens, 495. Stein, H., 44 n. 1, 71 n. 1, 610. Stein, L., 140 u. 1, 142 n. 1, 324 n. 1, 344 n. 1, 345 n. 1. Steiuer, 544 u. 1. Steinthal, 542* n. 2, 606, 608. Stephen, L., 12 u. 11, 390 u. 2, 608. Sterrett, 497 u. 4. Stewart, A., 12 n. 11. Stewart, D., 431*. Stich, 148 u. 1. Stilpo, 75, 140. Stirling, 437 u. 1, 496 u. 3, 533* u. 1. Stobaeus, 8. Stockl, 9 u. 2. Stoicism, 69, 74, 75, 140* ff., 597 ; and Christianity, 147. Stoics, 491 n. 5. Strato, 133. Strauss, 399 n. 1, 533* 560 n. 1, 562* 566 ff. Striimpell, 542* n. 2. Straggle for existence, 565 ff. Stumpf, 606. Sturz, 19 n. 2. Suarez, 203* n. 1. Subjective and objective in Middle Ages, 220 n. 1. Suckow, 78 n. 1. Suidas, 8. Sully, 544 n. 1, 557 n. 1, 606, 607. Suprauaturalism, 1 n. 1. Survival of fittest, 566 ff. Susemihl, 78 n. 1, 140 n. 1. Symonds, 10 n. 1. Synthetic judgments, 438 ff. INDEX 629 Taine, 581 u. 3, 586* 592 n. 2, 610. Talamo, 201 n. 3. Tannery, 305 u. 1 . Tarde, 61L Tatian, 187. Tauler, 261* Taurellus, 10, 277* f. Taylor, 167 n. 1, 181 n. 1. Taylor, T. W., 611. Tchihatchef, 298 u. 2. Teichmuller, 8 n. 6, 21 n. 1, 33 n. 1, 78 n. 1. Teleology, 1 n. 1, 564, 566 ff. ; of Kaut, 468 ffV; of Plato, 95 ff.; and Atom- ism, 95. Telesio, 273* 287. Temple, 296 n. 3. Teunemauu, 13. Tertullian, 186, 196, 463. Tetens, 433* n. 2. Teuffel, 8 u. 6. Thales, 5, 20, 21* f. Theism, 1 n. 1. Theodorus, 72*. Theodoras of Gaza, 263, 267. Theognis, 19. Theophrastus, 133. Theosophy, 265 ff., 277 ff. Thilly, 4 n. 1, 344 n. 1. Thilo, 542* n. 2. Theology, Plato's, 88 f . ; Kant's Critique of. Things in themselves, 71, 444, 447, ff. ; Beck's rejection of, 477 n. 1 ; Fichte and, 484; Kant's, 451 ff . ; Schopen- liauer and, 545 ; Schulze's critique of, 473 n. 3. Thomas, 236, 584 n. 4. Thomas of Aquin, 9, 202, 241* ff. ; his determinism, 245 f. Thomas of Bradwardine, 256*. Thomas a Kempis, 261*. Thomas of Strasburg, 256*. Thumming, 369* n. 1. Til)erghien, 587* n. 4. Tiedemann, 13, 140 n. 1. Tiele, 610. Tille, 557 n. 1. Time, Kant's doctrine of, 440 ff. Timocharus, 161. Timon, 149* f., 152. Tindall, 391* n. 3. Tissot, 322 n. 1 . Titchener, 586 n. 3, 607. Toceo, 286 n. 2. Toland, 391* n. 3 ; his materialism, 405* f. Tonnies, 301 n. 1, 609. Torquatus, L., 139. Torrey, H., 305 n. 1. Torrey, J., 185 n. 1, 188 n. 1. Tracy, 607. Transcendentalism, 1 n. 1. Trendelenburg, 15 n. 9, 106 n. 2, 588*. Trezza, 133 u. 1. Trivium, 200 n. 2. Tufts, 15 n. 9, 468 n. 1. Turgot, 414*. Twardowski, 305 n. 1. Twesten, 587 n. 2. Tycho Brahe, 283*. Tyler, 607. Tyndall, 563* n. 5. Uei?erwp:g, 14, 78 n. 1, 392 n. 5, 605. Ulrici, 496 n. 3, 588*. Unconscious, Leibniz's doctrine of the, 345 f. Universals, 219 f. Usener, 133 n. 1. Vacherot, 166 n. 3, 533* n. 1. Vaihinger, 437 n. 1, 557 n. 1. Valat, 59 n. 1. Valois, 239 n. 2. Vanini, 272*. Vasco de Gama, 282. Veitch, 305 n. 1, 431 n. 4, 605. Venn, 605. Vera, 496 n. 3, 515 n. 1, 533* n. 1. Vesale, 284*. Vicajee, 318 n. 7. Vico", 29.5* n. 1. Victorines, 227 ff. Viete, 284* 306. Villers, 434 n. 2. Vincent of Beauvais, 239* f, Vinci, Leonardo di, 284*. 630 INDEX Viuet, 322 n. 1. Virchow, 563 n. 4, 586* Visch, 231 u. 2. Vischer, 610. Vitringa, 59 n. 1. Vlooteu, Van, 324 u. 2, 323 n. 1. Vogt, 562, 563 n. 3. Voigt, 10 n. 1. Volkelt, 4, 437 n. 1, 557 n. 1. Volkmann, R., 166 n. 1, 542*^" u. 2. Volkmaim, W., 606. Volney, 590* n. 5. Voltaire, 399*. Voluntarism, 249 n. I, 601 ff. Vorliinder, 12 u. 11, 609. Wace, 185 n. 1. Wachsmuth, 149 n. 2. Waddington, 148 u. 2, 277 u. 3. Wagner, A., 286 u. 2. Wagner, R., 557* u. 1. Waitz, 542* n. 2, 607. Wallace, A. R., 560 u. I. Wallace, E., 104 n. 4, Wallace, W., 133 n. 1, 496 u. 3, 497 n. 3, 533* n. 1, 544 n. 1. - Walter, 8 n. 6, 167 n. 1. Walter of St. Victor, 233, 260. Watson, 148 n. 1, 435 n. 3, 437 n. 1, 487 n. 1, 533* n. 1, 573 n. 2. Weber, 147 n. 4, 495 n. 1, 501 n. 2, 601 n. 5. Weigel, 278* Weismann, 560 u. 1. Weisse, 588*. Welldon, 104 n. 4. Wendland, 163 n. 1. Wendt, 71 u. 1. Werner, 9 n. 2, 241 u. 1, 241 u. 3, 258 u. 3. Wessel, 261*. Westerniarck, 61 1. Weygoldt, 140 n. 1. Wharton, 104 n. 4. Whewell, 12 n. 11, 391 u. 2, 609. White, 323 n. 1. Wiclif, 359. VVilbour, 586 n. b Wildauer, 63 n. 1 Will, 600 £f. William of Auvergne, 239*. William of Champeaux, 221* ff., 235. William of Conches, 226* f . William Durand, 253*. William of Occam, 253* f. Williams, 104 n. 4, 609. Willm, 12. Willmann, 15 n. 9, 535 n. 2. Wilson, 608. Wimmer, 133 n. 1. Winckelmaun, 76 n. 2. Windelbaud, 8 n. 6, 10. Wirth, 588*. Witte, 608, 473 n. 7. Wolff, 163 n. 1, 368* f., 435. World-Soul, Plato's, 94 f. Worms, 323 u. 1. Wundt, 586* 600 n. 1., 601, 605, 606, 608, 609. Wyttenbacli, 167 u. 1. Xknocuates, 104, 140. Xenoplianes, 20, 24* ff. Xenophou, 6, 65, 67. Zakarella, 271*. Zahn, 140 u. 1, 185 u. 1. Zeitschrift fiir exacte Pliilosophie, 542 11. 2. Zeitsclirift fiir Thilosopliie, 542 n. 2, 588 n. 3. Zeitschrift fiir wissenschaftliche I'hi- losophie, 588 u. 7. Zeitschrift fiir Volkerkunde, 542 n. 2. Zeller, 4, 8 n. 6, 12, 15 n. 9, 19 u. 1, 78 n. 1, 148 n. 1, 277 u. 1, 368 n. 1; 462 n. 2, 533* 565 n. 3, 608. Zeno the Eleatic, 31* f., 335. Zeno the Stoic, .5, 74, 140* ff., 151. Zenodotus, 184 n. 1. Zcvort, 48 u. 2, 104 n. 4. Ziegler, 8 n. 6, 9 n. 2, 226 n. 2, 609, Ziehen, 607, 608. Zimmer, 481 n. 1. Zimmerman, 542* n. 2. Zimmern, 544 n. 1. Zwingli, 276 f. Date Due 1 <>g '^ JAlb'51 NO 3 '52 NC17'52